Dec. 21, 2012 – Bakersfield, Calif. to Tracy, Calif.

No cat. No gas. No Sydney.

Jessie and I slumped against the van in the Bakersfield gas station, unsure what to do next. He seemed worn out. I was fed up.

I had awoken early after a second straight Walmart-parking-lot night, anxious to actually get moving for San Francisco. Unfortunately, Jessie and Sydney were moving slowly – it had been a late night with some wacky characters. I had initially been enthralled learning about life as a bum. But two nights was long enough.

By the time we finally pulled into a nearby gas station, the two realized they couldn’t find their feline. Furious at her missing cat, and enraged by Jessie’s goading, Sydney stormed off.

We waited and waited. We had no plan – since the duo shared a cellphone, Sydney couldn’t be contacted. As the morning turned to afternoon, I decided it was time to find a new way down the road. I grabbed my backpack, bid Jessie goodbye, and set off down the road.

It was a long, tiring, and sweaty walk north out of town. I spent the better part of three hours slowly moving north, praying with each passing highway exit that the next one would be more hitchhike-friendly.

As civilization dwindled, I chose to post up at a less-than-ideal spot, hoping for some luck. I didn’t have a Plan B. After 30 minutes, two different state troopers had told me to move off the shoulder.

I soon moved into desperation mode, gesticulating wildly at each passing car. It worked. Carla immediately pulled over with a big smile on her face, and we spent the next 10 minutes reorganizing her car so that I could squeeze in.

“I never pass hitchhikers,” she said brightly. “Never, never, never.”

The Seattle native had just started the trek north from Bakersfield for the holidays, and had about 16 hours ahead of her. That meant I had a ride all the way to Tracy, where I would need to jump off I-5 and head west to San Francisco.

It was a swell ride. Carla was thrilled to hear I was thinking about heading to Guatemala, and regaled me with stories of her time in the country. Within an hour, I was quizzing he field biologist about birds and telling her stories about my adventure.

We took a short break at a gas station for tacos, and then wound up digging into the crepes she’d just made that morning.

The ride was up about 45 minutes later – she was heading north while I needed to go south. Since I wound up leaving the car at a deserted exit, I knew immediately it would be a night in the tent.

With the wind howling wildly, I trolled the side of the road for a reasonably sheltered spot. That didn’t exist. So I pegged my tent firmly into the ground and forced myself to sleep.