Kundalini and the Art of Being ... 11was that the road at this point was still a long ways from anywhere.
It was a normal two-lane road, but I couldn’t tell where it went to or
came from, and there was absolutely no traffic. And my map didn’t
help at this point, since it was only a map of the Lost Coast.
I made an educated guess and continued hiking along down the
road in what seemed to be the best direction, as the sky darkened.
After another mile or so, I came to a fork, with a small sign point-
ing to the right that said “Honeydew.” I remembered that Honey-
dew was also an exit off Highway 101, the main highway running
through this area. This was a good sign. So I continued to the right,
figuring that I was perhaps thirty miles from Highway 101—and not
much farther to Garberville, and a warm hotel room.
It was completely dark by now, and I was starting to get scared.
I was completely exhausted physically and mentally, I could barely
feel my legs, I was soaking wet, I was cold in spite of the fact that I
hadn’t stopped moving in hours, and I was pretty certain that every-
thing in my pack was also fully soaked. I kept hiking along, hoping
and praying for assistance of some kind.
Finally a car came along. I put my thumb out, but it didn’t stop.
Not a surprise. Even I would be hesitant to pick up a hitchhiker in the
dark, in a driving rainstorm, in the middle of nowhere.
I continued hiking along up the road. Ten minutes later, I saw an-
other car. I waved my arms this time, and they stopped. I explained
my situation to the man and his young daughter in the car, and asked
if they might be going to Garberville. But they said they were sorry,
they were headed home just a few miles down the road, and couldn’t
help me. I continued trudging along down the darkening road as they
drove away, feeling as if my very life force were being sucked out of
me as the light of their car faded into the distance.
I was now feeling genuinely desperate. Having no other apparent
alternatives, I began looking off the road for somewhere to set up my
tent, hoping my gear might miraculously be dry enough that I could
survive the night through the storm. As my last thread of hope was
fading, and I was about to set off blindly into the dark woods, I saw