Then Heather rolls past, I awkwardly say something like 'hello, surprise! Can I camp on your land tonight?'. She offers me much more and I park the Vespa, grab my stuff, and we bounce up the dirt road til we get to the top of the mountain.

Then I sit some more. And pick out the M&Ms in the trail mix D'Shawn made for me. I am so lame.

I got there and surprise, there's a gate to go up to the farm. So I sit, and wait for someone to come, and feel like SUCH a creeper.

This coastline is too beautiful to believe. I wish you could have been there.

I look so ghetto with this packing fiasco. I'm employing about a thousand bungee cords. Like a Vespa isn't hilarious enough on it's own.

And, go.

And she's off!

So, since I know all Betsy's secrets, including her password, I have taken it upon myself to update her blog when she is unable. News to date:

1. It is cold in California (wait til she gets to Kansas, it's so hot here the Devil is jealous!)
2. She is currently 1/2 hour down the road, repacking her load.

Gonna be a long 6 weeks!

Her mom