The important thing was to make the move out of the hotel. Now the reality was that Jimmy wasn’t prepared to go anywhere. He had only the few items in his duffel bag. He needed proper gear if he planned on camping as opposed to hoteling it.
He walked the couple of miles to the Army Surplus store down on Embarcadero. He had a good idea of what he wanted.
He got a good sleeping bag, good down to 15 degrees. He knew it was overkill, but he didn’t like the cold at all. Even late spring can bring uncomfortable temperatures at night. Better to take something off than to have to put something on.
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He found an army one-man survival tent big enough inside for him and all his gear. It had a sewn-in floor with extended rainfly. He got a camo tarp for an additional ground cloth or an extra wind or rain topping. And stakes. And rope.
A rucksack pack. With an internal frame and big enough to hold everything.
A simple cook kit and a compact butane stove and an extra fuel canister. A pair of thermal underwear. A small solar battery charger for his cell phone. And lighters.
He figured it all weighed close to twenty pounds and with his stuff he already had, pushing twenty-five. That didn’t count the water and food stuffs he would need.
He would deal with it for now. Even though heavier than he was comfortable with, what he had was necessary.
He made his purchases and took everything around the corner to Union Point Park that fronted the estuary.
Sitting down at a picnic table, he began packing everything he had into the rucksack. He packed, and repacked, to find the best arrangement. He adjusted the shoulder straps and the pack felt good on his back. It carried well, though a bit heavy.
Satisfied for the time being, he took off the pack and sat back at the table and thought about his next move.
He was also hungry, and he needed to get water and foodstuff to hold him for a while.
Two shadows appeared at his side, and he turned to face a couple of guys up to no good.
“Gimme your pack, old man!” said one of them, holding a knife at his side.
“And your money!” said the second one.
Jimmy sized up the situation. “My money is inside my jacket.” He reached in for his wallet, but he pulled out instead his .38 Special, thumbing the hammer back.
He said, “No.”
Their jaws dropped and they stared bug-eyed, then took off.
Holstering his .38, Jimmy watched as they cleared the park and disappeared across the street. He looked around. Some kids were playing basketball and a few people walked along the estuary. No one noticed.
He walked around the picnic table a few times to settle himself and think. It was almost 11 a.m.
Shouldering his pack, he walked to a nearby convenience store for water and some travel snacks.
He called Uber for a ride. Just minutes later, he was on his way to the downtown Greyhound Bus station.
He bought a one-way ticket to Tucson. It was leaving in twenty-five minutes.
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Some of us old guys, like Jimmy, can still take care of ourselves.
On to Arizona!
Can’t wait to see what happens on that greyhound bus to Tucson!