Tuesday, Nov. 24

Yesterday afternoon I rolled across the Alabama state line, in time  to view a gorgeous sunset over Gulf Shores.  I'm in Orange Beach at a nice, quiet (relatively speaking) RV campground, and will probably stay another night tonight.  Wednesday I'll mosey up the road to Daphne and accept my friend Carol's gracious offer to stay at her place.  There I hope to finally receive my solar charger for the phone (though I have been able to stay connected juggling the charge on two batteries.  It has occassionally had me hanging out in the bathroom near an outlet longer than some of the RV folks are comfortable with).
  Yesterday at a rest stop overlook in Pensacola I met Paul.  Paul lives under a tarp by the interstate, and sometimes with his friend under a nearby bridge.   Paul helped me with information about local routes, and has done some impressive bicycle touring in his own right.   He was a genuinely interesting and engaging person, without a doubt the most meaningful exchange I had yesterday.  I didn't ask Paul how he came to find himself in his current position.    He did tell me he has lived in Pensacola all his life.   If I had to guess, it would be something like schizophrenia.  Though, in the few cases of 'true' homelessness that I have any experience with, there seem to be a variety of contributing factors, and no easy solution (if at all).   My heart was heavy as I left Paul to push on to Alabama. Oh this human experience...