Last night ended up being fairly interesting. I met a fellow who moved to Golden City from Georgetown, Delaware. What are the odds? He just turned 18 and moved out there for his 15 year old girlfriend. I didn’t want to tell him, but that won’t last. While talking to him I bumped into another cyclist named Aaron Hanson. He worked in the military as a remote viewer. The man’s knowledge remarkable from every aspect: religion, war, you name it. We talked for hours about the Illuminati, China and the Red Army, Samurai’s being decadent, ICBM’s, the phony drug war, the list goes on, but the part that struck me being his Luciferian beliefs. Saying Christ himself said he was the morning star which in Latin translates to Lucifer so it brought a whole realm of contradictions in the Bible. So much that he scared off one of the boys who sat down next to us under the pavilion with his Chihuahua. The kid just met me and told me his whole life story. He dropped out of school; took an online diploma course; got into pills and other drugs and wanted to become a radiologist after getting his pharmacy tech certification. His older brother, a junkie, into shooting dope. He roamed place to place avoiding the police due to his multiple parole violations. I just listened and gave advice where necessary. The topic that made him cringe and leave from paranoia was the conversation about ICBM’s pointed at America containing the Marburg virus, which Aaron said no cure exists and eats you from every orifice. I would have ran too if I drank rum and took five Xanax.
This is where my story becomes weird, coincidental and unexplained. I woke up on the concrete next to my bicycle around 9 AM. A beat up cavalier rolled into the park, headlights shining bright in my face, rust on the driver’s side door and a man hopped out puffing on a cigarette. His glasses worn, with cracks in the lenses and a scruffy beard covering his entire face. He walked up to me as if I was the chosen one and said, “You’re going to Seattle right?”
I thought how did this man know? The trail ends in Oregon…I said, “Yes I am.”
“Well you’re going through Arizona too, right?”
Again I felt like he read my mind and thoughts from the night before. I spoke with James about coming to visit in AZ due to the flooding and snow throughout Colorado.
I looked at the man, puzzled and stunned and said, “Yes, I actually just changed my route.”
Well I have this message for you when you go through Arizona. Tell the Hopi, an Indian reservation off Highway 160, “Their white brother lives. He has a petition before red cloud. Watch your blood type. Watch Z man he is omega…the world changes quickly.”
The man turned around, walked back to his vehicle and left without another word. I paused and could not formulate thoughts in my mind. What just happened? This hovered through my mind the whole day while I rode into Kansas. Before I parted ways with Aaron he told me to read Ellis Crowley’s, “The Tarot.” He said, “Brian you’re the old fool on the cliff.” You’re journey may end up making you the magi holding the tarot, the most powerful card in the deck or your life may end before you. Either way it’s on your terms…this is the path you’ve chosen and you’re following it.” I felt like I read through a series of Chinese proverb you find in fortune cookies. With those final words he wished me luck on my journey and envied me for what lies ahead. We said bye and parted ways.
I continued on down the road fifteen miles and met Jason and Ryan from Seattle, Washington. They trekked eastbound towards New York. We exchanged information on places to stay, places to see and what was ahead. Apparently, there is a group five days ahead of me going eastbound. Maybe I’ll bump into them.
I continued onward and stopped at Pittsburg to charge my electronics, eat and bask in the shade. What a day!
I ended up pedaling another 15 miles landing in Girard, Kansas.