Her Wheel Life

Spending the night here in this odd but awesome place, made me reflect on some of the weirdest places I have slept in. Underneath an abandoned Red Cross building, in the backyard of a small restaurant in Baja California, in a public park in the center of town in Washington State… to name a few. But one night particularly stands out amongst all these interesting memories. It was on a campground in Monterey, California. Sounds kind of unexciting, I know.

 

Okay, Pause. I just noticed there is a llama eating hay right outside the train. This is so confusing and awesome.

 

Anyway, moving on. About four hours before strolling in to Monterey’s Veterans Memorial Campground, Victoria (another solo bike tourer I had met) and I were taking a break in a small coastal town called Marina. I have a large Canadian flag attached to my bike, and Victoria - well she has an inflatable shark attached to her bike. As you can imagine, the two of us capture a lot of attention including the eyes of a lovely couple, Mary and John. They were seated outside a coffee shop, enjoying the California sunshine when they noticed our bikes. “Where do I even begin?” said John, “Where you guys headed? And what’s up with the shark?” They were fascinated with our journey. One thing led to another and we asked them if they wanted to have dinner with us on the campgrounds we were headed to that evening. They were so excited, and agreed almost immediately. “We will bring some freshly caught fish!”, they said. Victoria and I live out of our tents, but nothing will stop us from hosting dinner parties apparently. We said our “see-you-soons”, and biked another 20km until the beautiful coastal town of Monterey.

 

We explored the town, and bought some goodies for our dinner party. At around 4pm, we made our way to the campgrounds, which was a 5km uphill climb from town. The campgrounds had no ranger, so we simply looked at the map to find our way to the “hiker-biker” site (a site for those who do not come with a car).  

 

Victoria and I walk into the hiker-biker section. The vibe immediately felt different. We slowed down, our eyes scanning the area. There were no other bikes. “Do you have any drugs?” A man to my left shouted. I did not answer. To my right, two teenage girls hesitantly peered out of their tents. Their eyes fixated on us and on our bikes. Once they noticed I was also looking back at them, they quickly popped their heads back inside their tent. After a few seconds, I noticed Victoria and I had pushed our bikes through the entire hiker-biker site without stopping. We look at each other in bewilderment. “We cannot camp over there”, Victoria quietly says. “You took the words right out of my mouth. But what about our dinner party?! Mary and John will be coming in a few hours!” I respond. “Let’s indulge in a car-camping area. It is more expensive, but it will be more private and safe.” It was only 20m away from the hiker-biker site, but it definitely felt better.

 

A couple hours later, Mary and John drove into our campground bringing along some blue cod and wine. We had some fire roasted pepper and mango guacamole ready, and mushroom rice cooking on our little camping stove. #finedining We told them about the odd vibe on the campground. We hypothesized that this was the way the city managed their homelessness. When you have a campground that is so close to a touristy city, a cheap way to keep the town “pristine” and “pleasant” is to drive all the homeless folk to the campgrounds. During dinner, one man came near our campsite through the bushes. He looked confused and was shouting random words. It was clear he was going through a manic episode. Immediately, Mary and John expression changed. It was to our surprise, that this scene was all too familiar to them. “Well, our son sometimes goes through those episodes. He is just really confused.” Their son is a heroin addict. “He had a very normal upbringing. His sister wants to be a doctor! We are not quite sure how it all happened.” After an emotional discussion about drug policy in the United States, we stuffed our bellies with more food and took some terrible selfies with our new friends. But alas, the night had to end. We finally said our goodbyes, and after a long clean up, I snuck into my wonderful abode.

 

I always felt safe in my tent. But this night, I couldn’t sleep. I heard countless footsteps and voices near my tent the entire night. I was scared. And I was ashamed for it. In theory, I knew that these folks are harmless. Only a couple months ago, I was advocating for safe injecting sites around New York City. When people would argue that this would create an unsafe community, I would respond saying opioids don’t make addicts dangerous. What IS dangerous, is the processes they have to go through to get a hold of these illegal substances. Even with all that knowledge, I kind of understood why the city of Monterey pushes addicts out of sight and into the campground. It IS scary. It is definitely not the right approach, especially for the long term, but it is cheap and effective. What do you think about this approach? What would you have done differently if you were in my situation?

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*Some names have been changed in this story

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