Authorized Trespassing

The Pennsylvania State sign stood before me. I took a picture of the sign and completed my second state. By the end of the day, I was going to finish my third state. The corner of Pennsylvania (specifically the corner between New York and Ohio) I was going to pass was roughly 50 miles long. This small stretch of the state along Lake Erie had a few hills but nothing too exciting. I was glad to pass through within the day. 

Like Pennsylvania and New York, Ohio didn’t offer a noticeable change in scenery. Not wanting to have to find a place to camp for the night, I reached out to Carol and Pat from Warmshowers, who lived near the border of the two states. They told me they were out of town, but I could set up my tent on their porch in their backyard. I wanted the night alone, having spent most of the last ten days at a new stranger’s home. I enjoyed the company and conversation but telling the same stories and asking the same questions had become exhausting, and a break was overdue.

I made my way to the back and sat on the porch to relax and eat cold pepperoni sandwiches. I looked at the lake, debating whether I should take a swim in the still cold water from the previous winter. I wasn’t going to have access to a shower that night.

Just as that thought crossed my mind, a woman emerged from the back door, which I was convinced was locked. My brain scrambled for an explanation as to why she was here and how I can explain why I was in the back of the house. Was this the wrong address? Was I unknowingly trespassing? Her face showed the same concern mine must have shown. She told me she was a neighbor and noticed the front door was slightly ajar and wanted to make sure everyone was safe. I explained how I ‘knew’ Carol and Pat. She seemed assured and left me alone. Carol and Pat called me to explain that the front door could only be locked from the inside and I should go inside for the night, lock the front door, and leave out the back in the morning. The contents of the fridge and freezer were fair game to plunder. 

Entering an unfamiliar home without hosts felt odd but comforting. Carol and Pat owned a small lakeside home with only one room besides the kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. Every room had cute chichi decorations with sayings such as “home is where the heart is.” I had the whole house to myself and free food at my disposal. It was surreal, but not shocking, that strangers from the internet, whom I had never met, allowed me to stay alone in their home. I’ve grown used to this unwarranted trusting of strangers on my trip. I go to bed in a deserted house—alone but mindful that kind people are everywhere.

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Cowboy Camping

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The Journey and not the Destination