I finally got booted off the freeway. Walking from the south end of Petaluma to Novato, I entered 101, where I walked against traffic down the freeway. At first, all was fine– it was the normal not-the-most-pleasurable freeway walking experience, filled with the smog and cacophony of countless cars whizzing by at high speed. But just after 2pm, as northbound traffic out of San Francisco began to thicken, I found myself walking on the shoulder, against three lanes of slow-moving vehicles. As the minutes progressed, the vehicles were only moving at parking lot speed, and then everything became a lot more fun than it ever has been along the freeway. Amidst the boredom of their daily commute home, drivers were noticing me, with large numbers of them honking and waving to the man with the WALKING ACROSS AMERICA signs. Of all the different surfaces I’ve walked (neighborhood streets, central city arterials, highways, freeways, and occasionally a bike bath or train tracks), the freeway has always been the least hospitable in people terms. But the traffic jam turned it into the most hospitable of all roadside experiences. I did get a couple of angry gestures from not-so-happy male motorists, but there were many hundreds of honks and waves of support to compare to the tiny handful of hecklers.
I would come to learn that the small handful of hecklers also called the police on me. After I’d made into the Novato city limits via the freeway, and was almost to the first exit, a California Highway Patrol car suddenly emerged from the then parking lot of three northbound 101 lanes. Barreling toward me, I could tell that I was about to have my first “run-in” with California police. As he swiftly closed in to my position, he had his door open for the last hundred or so feet of path to me– the way cops approach a situation when they’re ready to jump out and “take care of business.” “Chip” (I’ll call him; I didn’t get his first name) stopped and hopped up out of his patrol car, approaching me with a look of determination on his face. I immediately grabbed one of the handy photo ID business cards I carry (thanks Brian!), ready to introduce myself and explain what I’m doing.
“I don’t want to know what your cause is” were roughly his opening words– I don’t remember the words as exactly as I remembered his irritated introductory mood. “We’re getting calls about you– 911 calls– you’re backing up the whole freeway!” he tells me, as he gestures to the endless swarm of cars lined up behind him.
“I caused this!!???” I never would have guessed such a thing. I’d figured it was simply rush-hour traffic coming out of San Francisco. But then I noticed that as I was walking against traffic, cars in front of me were slow; once past me, they were moving much more quickly. It amazes me what a simply man with a sign on the side of a busy road can accomplish.
“You can’t walk on the freeway,” Chip tells me, as a scintilla of curiosity begins to emerge from him: “where did you start?”
“I began in Washington State. I’m walking across America to Washington, DC– all the way to the White House. I’m coming south through California as winter approaches, and I can’t be caught in Minnesota in the dead of winter.”
“Really!?” By now, Chip’s opening mood of irritation seems to have almost completely faded. Having recognized that I’ve alread made it this far on foot, he now appears to be rather impressed. Still a law enforcement officer though, he warns me that by walking on the freeway, another officer may cite me. (He obviously wasn’t about to exercise his power to do so :^)
“Where are you going tonight?”
“I’m being hosted tonight in the Bel Marin Keys. People are hosting me in many communities along the way. Tomorrow I’ll be in San Rafael. I really didn’t want to break any laws, and I apologize for this. What’s the best way for me to (legally) get from here to the Bel Marin Keys?”
Chip’s demeanor quickly transitioned to thoughtful as he started explaining what he felt would be the quickest, safest, best– and legal– way for me to reach the Bel Marin Keys.
“Good Luck to You! I wish you well!”
Though I’ve spoken to many cops along the way, the situation is typically that I see them parked along the roadside; I approach them, introduce myself and what I’m doing, and they’ve only ever been helpful to me. The angry 911 calls and then subsequent wait through a parking lot to find me obviously brought Chip to me with a different mentality. Still– I’d consider it a positive ending to what started out as an unsure beginning. There was another way to reach Novato from Petaluma, off the freeway, but it would have added many more miles, and I was hoping not to have avoided it. I did avoid it, and now won’t need the freeway again as I make my way into San Francisco.
Good Times!