X (formerly Twitter): Joseph Boaz
After rising at 1:48 a.m. (I never heard my 1:45 a.m. cellphone alarm chiming until then), I was on my way for my five-mile+ walk at something like 2:28 a.m., and had weighed at most 181 pounds fully dressed, but sans my jacket.
My stop three or so blocks away at the elementary school playground went well enough ─ I had my usual of late repetitions in the six sets of pull-ups and chin-ups (7-2-3-3-2-2), and I mostly held the very last pull-up between a pair of gymnastics-style rings for a 30-count. I was beginning to sag, admittedly.
Then I finished with a dozen slow, full-range decline push-ups on a cement ramp.
All was looking well as my walk proceeded thereafter until maybe just over 1¼ miles from home. I was following Fraser Highway and had crossed the intersection with 140th Street (Google Map), and then just after passing the creek that you can see to the right of that intersection, I turned into a wooded pathway that leads to the angling lane that you should be able to see that begins and ends on Green Timbers Way, for that was where I was next bound.
The initial path is very dark due to overhanging tree cover, so I used my Titan baton flashlight (and stun gun). But just as I was nearly to that curving lane, I encountered Charles "Stickman" McCarthy just loitering there in the dark.
This is the second time I have had a walk interrupted in that area by coinciding with him in the night.
I believe him to be homeless and bivouacked somewhere in the forest.
Normally he is a nuisance in that he is difficult to break free of because he is so socially deprived, but this time was the worst. He has been wanting me to help him establish his identity by undertaking an "oath of identity" or "oath of one and the same", so after he first launched into a confusing description of some legal debacle he is in relating to an assault charge that has somehow been filed against him relating to a Good Samaritan effort he had undertaken, we then got around to a discussion of the oath of identity.
I had told him that he would still need to establish his identity with proof, and he claimed to have quite an assortment of documentation ─ I never knew this before.
The next thing I knew ─ and this is after quite some time being engaged with Charles in conversation ─ he insisted on taking me to where he had his documentation hidden in the forest.
It happened to be further along Fraser Highway in the direction of 96th Avenue.
When we got to the area of forest, where I assumed his camp might be, I was nearly appalled at the debris strewn about, including a loaf or two of bread, and basically just pieces of garments and tarps, flattened cardboard boxes ─ garbage, really.
There was no shelter of any kind that I could see. He began rummaging through the debris strewn all about, claiming that his documentation was in a blue folder.
He hunted desperately, even checking in and around stumps and fallen logs when nothing was turning up under any of the masses of garbage.
He finally had to admit that he was at a full loss on where the folder might be, believing that he had only held it in his hands the day before.
We returned fruitlessly to Fraser Highway, and he was most apologetic.
And then for the first time in any of our encounters, he actually asked me if I could possibly help him out financially in any small measure.
I knew that I had $30 on me ─ two fives and a twenty. I took out my wallet and proffered him one five ... then decided to give up the other.
But as the weight of this poor wretch's obvious situation bore me down ─ was that mess in the woods actually where he called home? ─ I resignedly chose to also give him the twenty.
I still had to be free of Charles, not knowing how much of my time he had consumed. He was bound back towards 140th Street, but I declared my need to go on to 96th Avenue and head for 148th Street ─ I had to distance myself from the clinging chap.
And so I hastened to 96th Avenue and began walking it in the direction of 148th Street; but before I reached Green Timbers Way, I decided to see just how late into the near-dawn the night was.
To my deep chagrin, it was something like 4:08 a.m. To put that into perspective, I was only a third or so of the way into my walk; yet if I had not encountered Charles, I would have been getting home barely after 4:30 a.m.
There was no bloody way I could continue with my full walk ─ it would be broad day before I was back home, and maybe even after 5:30 a.m. if not even 6 a.m.
So I halted my progress, and turned about and headed back for home, taking a route entirely unrelated to what I had already travelled ─ I had no desire of being caught up yet again by Charles.
I believe that I was back home by 4:38 a.m., and remained outside a while to water front yard garden plants.
This disagreeable experience with Charles has now made me utterly desperate to avoid him, but the area we met is part of my favourite walking route. I am going to have to come up with some other walk if I am best to avoid him.
The problem is that he never carries a flashlight, so I can never tell if he is near in the dark. And my light only serves to give me away. But even if I carefully walk in the dark, then I can never know when he may be just ahead, and poised to ruin yet another of my outings.
So I am going to have to be far more vigilant and walk more open areas where I can see for some distance. This experience must not be repeated. But I love my dark places!
My day ran away on me.
I sunned in the afternoon following a nap, but thereafter I felt myself poorly and had to lie down maybe another hour, if not more.
The day was exceedingly hot.
Desirous of an evening walk to justify sitting up this evening watching some T.V. with my younger brother and having a couple or so beers, another walk was required.
Towards that end I drank a Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol) while watching The Flash ─ episode four ("Armageddon, Part 4") of season eight.
The episode was actually quite good!
If interested, I watched it on my computer at this link at MoviesJoy.on, and it played without issue.
It was approaching 9:30 p.m. before I had the muster to leave on a walk. I had considered including some grocery shopping, but my financial status is presently precarious. In fact, I am going to have to evaluate whether I can even grocery-shop prior to the arrival of my next pension deposit towards month's end.
It will probably depend upon whatever mortgage contribution I gain from my eldest stepson.
So I went forth on my walk when I did because the daylight is still extending for so bloody long ─ I hate these long days! I can handle the heat ─ as long as I can sun in the afternoon, it can get dark at 6 p.m. for all I damned care.
Anyway, yes, I undertook a workable route that may well spare me Charles henceforth.
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