Homeless but not hopeless
Thanksgiving marks a tough time for a man who lives out of his pickup truck.
By Les Gapay
November 27, 2008
I always sort of dread Thanksgiving, and not just because I am alone or because no one invites me to dinner. For me, the holiday marks the start of cold weather, and I know it will soon be uncomfortable to sleep outdoors.
For the last 6 1/2 years, since the previous recession caused my writing and public relations business to tank, I have been living in the back of my 1998 Toyota Tacoma pickup, which now has 369,000 miles on it.
For three seasons a year, I tend to stay in Southern California. Every summer, when it gets too hot here, I head for Montana, where I once lived. I try to follow the good weather, which is easy to do until winter. Recently, I've been staying out by the Salton Sea, where temperatures have been in the 80s during the day and about 55 at night. In weather like that, I can just use my sleeping bag as a cover.
A few years ago, when I was still making a little money, I used to camp at a developed campground with toilets, tables and fire rings, but now that I am subsisting mostly on Social Security, I can't afford it. Now I stay at a primitive campground at the water's edge. It has outhouses instead of flush toilets, but I have come to like its solitude and lack of pavement. In the morning, I can watch cranes and pelicans by the thousands.
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