Day 8: Rejection and low bridges

The day began with a rejection. A boondocking organization has a few host sites on my route. A request I made was rejected with this as the explanation: “I love Jesus Christ, our risen Lord and Savior. I pray one day that you come to know Him too. Speak to Him as a friend and seek Him. He loves you. I've heard many people who are living your lifestyle discover the love Jesus has for them. You don't have to do this, not when God sent His son to die for your sins. If you ever need Him, call on His name. He is always there for you. Confess your sins, ask for forgiveness. He is faithful. He will forgive you and wash away your sins. You can be a new person in Jesus. May the one true God's protection and grace be upon you, in the name of Jesus Christ, and may you come to know His everlasting love. He is an awesome God!”

I resisted the urge to espond. So far.

I am beginning to feel the Mother and see the magic, mostly but not all in vast amounts of nature, often the only vehicle in either direction. Twice today I almost got to feel her smack me. The first time was when an official-looking man would not allow me to cross a certain bridge being repaired because I was "a truck.” I was sent on an eight-mile detour along the river to cross another bridge and return back those eight miles to meet up with the intended route. I’m sure I did not go the way of the prescribed detour, because I didn’t see any trucks. I went down many a narrow road today, and crossed a few one-lane bridges. Well, the GPS took me on a one-lane road, about three miles long with two small pullovers on the opposite side of the street. I met one person coming out as I was going in, and another coming in as I was coming out – surely divine intervention. The road was so narrow, if I stuck my hand out the window, I could have touched rock, and that guardrail on the right did not look strong enough to keep me from swimming. Half of my brain was focused on keeping the bus in the middle of the road (Trust me, your driveway is wider.) while the other half was trying to think of what gods and goddesses to call on for help. I ended up with my Grandpa Salvatore Augeri because he drove a truck and lots of farm equipment. Good thing the veil is thin right now … and I had recently honored him at two rituals.
Then, after crossing the Delaware River on the “middle bridge,” I was attempting to get back on track when I came across the letters LOW BRIDGE scrawled on a metal girder. I didn’t remember seeing a sign with the height so I had to back up with cars coming toward me. * and when I got back to the intersection, there were cars coming from every direction. I’d like to think they’re telling the story about a crazy old lady with purple hair driving an old white bus half her age.

It was going to be a short haul today, so I remember thinking, and then saying, something like, “It won’t take us too long to get to the campground tomorrow, so we’ll have time to explore.” Again, the gods and goddesses heard me and provided that detour … just like they heard me say on Tuesday, “I really don’t want to have to drive so far tomorrow.” and I got to spend 26 hours at a service center.

Going to a campground was supposed to be a big treat. I was longing for a long hot shower and washing my dirty laundry. Well, it turns out the laundry is in the office, which is at least 1/3 mile from my site and the bathhouse is another 600 feet past that, up a hill. Neither place has space to park a bus. 

I’m thinking the stops I need along the next 600 miles to South Carolina need to start magickally appearing. Do I dare say it out loud?