@argonautphoto

Almost time! (It’s been 6 years!) Bringing @hawkeyehuey, my 12 year old, this year for his first! Friends: DM me your address and hopefully we can find you!!!

“Your payment will be wind and blisters. Amen.” This is a real advertisement I took out in the @sfreporter while walking across the country 20 years ago. I only got one reply and we became good friends, her name was Kimber Shining Star. No one came out and played music on the road but it was worth a shot. In New York City, at the end of my walk, I was met by friends playing Riders on the Storm so I did end up getting part of my wish. More stories at #3349miles

20 years ago today I was walking across the US from Encinitas, CA to NYC. I did it in 154 days. No cell phone, no support crew. More stories at #3349miles From my 2002 journals: Day 50, Santa Fe, New Mexico Mile 1,000 "I am not supposed to go into town until tomorrow night, but Alissa plays with the Cold Cold Bitches tonight at Bar B, and Bett thinks I need to go. I’m too close, it is ridiculous for me to be so close and not be there tonight... And opening the door of that bar she is the first thing I see. Sitting at the bar, facing me, as though she knew, in a long black leather jacket, with a cheerleader’s outfit underneath, and heavy blue eye liner. Tonight she is not Alissa Moreno, tonight she is Dirty Bliss, Keyboards, electric guitar, and vocals in the Cold Cold Bitches. A surprise… she can’t believe it, how did you get here? I walked. And the Bitches go on stage and here I am with so many people I know and love and they sing for me a song that goes... “I would walk 500 miles and I would walk 500 more, just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door...” And I HAVE and I DID." I started planning the walk from my “art commune” in New Mexico so I’ve come full circle. I was in love with Alissa. I walked with her in my mind the whole way from the Pacific Ocean. I decided I'd add another 5 days and go North to walk through Santa Fe because I'd been building temples to her in my mind all along the way. After the show something is off. I ask if maybe I shouldn't have walked through Santa Fe and she says maybe I shouldn’t have. "Before I came into town I pulled my heart out of my chest and when I came into this bar I held out the bloody mess and said this is for you, but this is the real world, you cannot do that here, what can she do with this bloody thing? She has to move to LA in a week and there is just too much going on, and just because I built temples to her and prayed and sang and walked 1,000 miles does not make the world stop…” (cont in caption)

Somewhere on the high plains of New Mexico 20 years ago on a 3,349 miles walk from coast to coast. 154 days, no cellphone and no support crew. Just me, Cosmo, a hula hoop, and a comet shaped dog cart with the bare minimum inside. Stories at #3349miles

20 Years Ago in my journal: “Day 47, Train Tracks to Willard Junction, NM today: 27 cumulative: 914 … I end up following the train tracks all the way to Mountain Air, New Mexico. At the edge of town a man starts yelling from his porch, there is a ceramic Jesus head hanging by the door and a picture of his daughter graduating from high school in the front window. Piles and piled of boxes and “HEY! what are you doing with that cart, wait, let me run in and get the video camera.” Film rolling, “OK, now tell me that again, what’s your name, what are you doing, where does your family live, come on in and meet the family.” If there was a sixth gear, that would be Robert. Robert is in his late fifties, he wears a shirt and a vest from the 1970’s and a white golf cap. He always carries a video camera with him and he records every conversation. Inside the house one of Robert’s videos of the grandkids (he has 20) at a Judo competition. His niece has big cheeks, she has a Mickey mouse slide viewer pressed up against her face (slide 2), and clicks through the wheel of photos over and over and over. Dinosaurs. Bambi. Cinderella. A large portrait of a woman stares down at a tank full of goldfish. A black Indian doll stands in a case decorated with feathers, it looks like a shrine. (Continued in caption) #3349miles

Cosmo was found, and named, shortly after reading Tom Wolfe's The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. “…in July of 1964 not even the hip world in New York was quite ready for the phenomenon of a bunch of people roaring across the continental U.S.A. in a bus covered with swirling Day-Glo mandalas aiming movie cameras and microphones at every freaking thing in this whole freaking country while Neal Cassady wheeled the bus around the high curves like Super Hud and the U.S. nation streamed across the windshield like one of those goddamned Cinemascope landscape cameras that winds up your optic nerves like the rubber band in a toy airplane and let us now be popping more speed and acid and smoking grass as if it were all just coming out of Cosmo the Prankster god's own local-option gumball machines— COSMO! Furthur." More about our walk at >>>> #3349miles

20 years ago today I was walking across the US. From my journals: “Day 46, Bernardo, NM to Train Tracks, today:26 cumulative:887 Walking another plain of gold grasses on flatlands leading to low mountains, as I often do these days in the West, I walk east of Bernardo (which is itself only 1 building) past a community the locals called "Out There." Tire piles and trailers welded together, and a settlement of junk yards and Mad Max caravans and buses, and broken RVs. Stopping to photograph a desolate stretch of dirt that ends in white sky, a van pulls up and someone in the driver’s seat says that they “like my rig.” "Call me Seminole Bob the Wanderer!" (Seminole Bob uses the pronoun he) Seminole Bob tells me he once walked across the United States too! from Miami, Florida to Seattle Washington, for the 1962 World’s Fair on a $20,000 bet. He walked with a donkey and in moccasins and won that bet and walked away with the money. He's also done some wanderings on a bicycle with a cart, and in a bus, crossing the country many times when he was my age. (Using the language of 50 years ago) Seminole Bob told me he travelled with an act called "Oweena, world famous transvestite,” and wants to show me the first chapters of his book by the same title. As was usual when I met people not far from their homes Oweena offered: “Come on back to the house!” and I follow the van back towards Bernardo to a camper top and a broken-down RV surrounded by various junk, where Oweena and his wife reside. Now that we know each other I am allowed to call him Oweena instead of Seminole Bob. I have found in my travels that there is often an introductory name, sometimes it is a second name, other times, wholly fabricated, used until the person trusts you. I have passed the test. Oweena’s wife Sharon (slide 2) has offered up some bacon and eggs, toast and beans, a cup of coffee and plenty more if you want it, and I never refuse food, and I do, indeed, want that meal. She tells me as she serves up the food, how she has traced her lineage through King Arthur and all the way back to Christ.” (Continued in captions) #3349miles

20 years ago today I was walking across the US. 3,349 miles in 154 days. Cosmo pulled our cart filled with dog food, water, sleeping gear, and warm clothes. She was a young sled dog and loved the road, was outdoors all day and had her owner’s total attention and love. Her duct tape boots were lined to not stick to her fur. We tried expensive rubber soled dog boots and they wore out on day 2. (The comments may fill with people freaking out about the duct tape but I assure you it worked better than rubber boots and caused no suffering.). Here she is at the Very Large Array in New Mexico with our water frozen solid. “Day 40, The Very Large Array to Magdalena, NM today: 26 miles cumulative: 808 …Just when I am sure that there is no way to salvage this day a white pickup truck stops and two men get out. B.W. and Roland Cox. And they have with them a picnic basket of sorts. I should note that I have had no food today, only energy gels because I forgot to buy food in Datil. A cold day without food, that is why I am sure it cannot be salvaged, but then B.W. Cox and his son bring me out of my hole. They saw me asleep on the side of the highway this morning on their way to church and then walking when they were driving back home. Mrs. Cox, who is not presently here, got to worrying about me and sent old B.W. out to find me. They don’t ask too many questions, just want to give me some warm food. When they are a few minutes down the road I stop to see what is for lunch. One large Mason Jar full of beans (and I mean very large) one mason jar full of BBQ pork, two large pieces of warm corn bread with homemade butter and honey, 4 granola bars, a bag of candy, and a bag of dog biscuits. Mrs. Cox has saved my life. Hallelujah, hallelujah, good food indeed. Amen. I believe!!! Hallelujah! In the goodness of man.” (Continued in comments) #3349miles

Fort Apache, Arizona, Day 31. miles today: 26 cumulative: 610 #3349miles

20 years ago today I was walking across the US with my dog Cosmo. No cell phone. No support crew. 3,349 miles in 154 Days. Below are excerpts from 2 days of my journals about footcare or lack thereof: “Day 36, Springerville, AZ to Red Hill, NM today: 25 miles cumulative: 701 ...I thought that at some point I would get into a rhythm and the physical pain would stop but it hasn’t and there are more than 300 miles between me and Santa Fe. Just before sunset I have to stop to deal with my blisters, they are back. And they are under other old blisters, deeper than any others that I have had, duct tape and mole skin and lets try this again. Cosmo needs duct tape too, (not for blisters) her boots have fallen apart and the rubber is worn through. Today she gets duct tape boots (lined so it doesn’t stick to her). After doing all I can my feet are not feeling much better, but there is nothing I can do about it so I keep going, hoping that there is some kind of other side to this month of pain. There has to be… Day 37, Red Hill to Quemado, NM today: 25 miles cumulative: 726 …4 miles into the day my blisters wake up and I start limping. Athletic tape and duct tape and another sock and anything to stop this ridiculous pain but nothing works and the limping continues. Today I know what it is like to walk on hot coals. Not for 25 feet, but for 25 miles. At first it is like walking on broken glass, gasping breaths, then warm feet, then hot feet, then numb feet someplace past pain. After 3 miles of serious limping with my weight on my toes, trying to adjust to protect the larger blisters on my heels, my calves begin to cramp. I have no choice but to let down my heels and go through the steps again, gasping, warm, hot, and then numb, just throbbing numbness. I am supposed to envision cool moss right now, but I am just staring at the horizon envisioning Quemado 15 miles closer than it is.” #3349miles

20 years ago today I was walking across the US with my dog Cosmo. It took 154 days. Day 27: Apache Jct. to Superior, Arizona Miles today: 27 cumulative: 509 I remember this day in the first image because we almost got killed by a car that came within inches of us, breaking off a reflector and flag we had jutting out as a warning. From that day forward, when the shoulder of the road went away, we would walk into oncoming traffic so at least we could see what was coming at us and maybe have a chance to jump. We often loitered when given a good rest stop. There was nothing to do but walk and rest and eat and sleep. Life had been pared down to pretty basic elements. After taking this photo I made a call to my grandma from a payphone (I chose not to take a cellphone) and then checked my feet for new blisters. Images of those to come. This night was a cold, cold, night. I remember when we breathed it looked like locomotive breath. Cosmo walked so hard I had to pull her back. She'd gone full-on sled dog. This was our first hill of many to come, 3 weeks of hills... Cosmo didn’t slow down even on the steepest sections. The cold was the secret. She was invincible in the cold. We started to walk lots of late nights for that reason. When we finally saw the lights of Superior after the long hill, we looked for a side road to get us away from the cars. It was 1:00 am. There were no side roads, but we could get 30 feet off the pavement behind some trees, and the sky was so clear that I didn’t set up the tent, and ended up sleeping curled around Cosmo in my sleeping bag in the dirt. #3349miles

February 4, 2002 Day 13, The desert south of Hell to Wiley’s Well Today: 28 Cumulative: 255 Context: I left Cosmo with some people at the Salton Sea. The road crossing the northern edge of the Chocolate Mountain Gunnery Range is too sandy to pull a cart on and I’m told it’s too dangerous for Cosmo because of large packs of coyotes. I am walking alone and my last host is watching Cosmo and the cart now and bringing me water tomorrow. It’s a good thing, as I only have water for probably 40 miles and the trail is 90. Except... they didn't end up bringing me water. From my journal: "Today my teeth hurt. I know right away when I sit up in my tent that I am in the desert and that I am out of water, I have been grinding my teeth in my sleep. If they don’t come today I will have to find a way out besides the Bradshaw Trail, some way to get to the Interstate. I figure I am near Augustine’s Pass, and the quickest way out is over the Mule Mountains, to a town on Interstate 10 called Hell. I am 13 miles south of Hell with no water. This is not a joke. The mountains would be harder walking, I will look for the wells on my map and hope for someone to pass by. No one drove by yesterday, and the chances for today are not good, it is a weekday and I am 45 miles from where Bradshaw meets the Palo Verde Valley. My maps show 5 wells in the first 10 miles today, one of them must have water..." But they didn't end up having water. The journals continue at length about all the ways they were dried up, filled with dead animals, or had trees that had grown up through them and sucked out every drop of water. 55 miles into the Bradshaw trail I eventually found the only person living out there, in a lone trailer in a field of volcanic rocks. Her name was Jan. I explain that I ran out of water and needed enough to get to Palo Verde or Ripley. “That’s 35 miles. Lots of people die out here. 5 died just this year tryin to walk this last bit without water, you’re lucky I’m here, you’d be dead too.” #3349miles

Jan 29, 2002 Day 7 Salton City to Mecca Today: 31 miles Cumulative: 158 Mecca was the only planned town on my map between Encinitas and NYC. I don’t know why, just liked the name and I was in my own kind of pilgrimage. Images were all shot on slide film with my Leica M6 and a 35mm lens. 1 - Pete, who works the citrus crops as a day laborer 2 - outside the gas station in Mecca 3 - Poor Richard's bait shop. #3349miles