Let me begin by extending my most gracious thanks to all who were involved in organizing a most successful Journey Øakland, 2009. ‘Twas a most unforgettable evening.

note: for me, this night can be described as nothing short of rush after rush of bittersweet emotions, so bear with me.

Jøurney

1jour•ney
Pronunciation:
\ˈjər-nē\
Etymology:
Middle English, from Anglo-French jurnee day, day's journey, from jur day, from Late Latin diurnum, from Latin, neuter of diurnus
1: an act or instance of traveling from one place to another : trip
2: chiefly dialect : a day's travel
3: something suggesting travel or passage from one place to another

2journey
Inflected Form(s):
jour•neyed; jour•ney•ing
intransitive verb : to go on a journey : travel transitive verb : to travel over or through
— jour•ney•er noun

PREFACE:

It’s hard to say exactly what I expected Journey Oakland to be, or what it exactly meant to me … but needless to say, weeks upon weeks in advance I was excited for it.
Essentially, it has always held great meaning to me. After all, when I was green to the game, Journey Chicago 2008 was one of the first SFØ events kindly introduced to me. To me, Journey events are synonymous with SFØ. Not to mention Oakland is, and always has been, a homeland for me. I was born here and both branches of my family have made their homes here for at least the past three generations – my childhood summers were equally spent in Chinatown and East Oakland with my grandparents and great-grandparents. As an 'adult' with greater mobility and independence I have had no greater joy than to be able to fully appreciate and know Oakland in all its splendor.

PROLOGUE:

Leading up to the day, I spent many a moment spamming my friends on Facebook and Twitter with news of its coming. If they were not already SFØ players, they were all either very excited or very confused (sometimes both) and wanted to know more, and I was glad to provide them with the necessary details (taking care not to give too much away).


PREPARATION:

The day of the event came – I could hardly contain myself. I spent much of the morning in preparation – wishing I got more rest but knowing that I wouldn’t have been able to sleep longer because of my excited anticipation, printing out maps of AC Transit bus routes, going over my mental map of Oakland again and again in my head and taking note of all potential checkpoints, packing my bag to be as light as possible in addition to as well equipped as possible, etc. etc.

Noontime rolls around and I’m meeting up with JTony and Bryce at Fruitvale BART to commiserate. We obtain some delicious taco truck and head to the grassy median under the tracks where I spread out my maps of wondrous Oakland and begin indicating to them all the various spots I thought might appear as checkpoints, and their relative relation and accessibility to each other. They too are as eager to run Journey as I am – and we continue on in my trusty steed Velvet (1984 Volvo sedan, maroon) so I can better help them flesh out their own mental maps of Oakland ahead of time. We drive all over – from Fruitvale down East 14th through Chinatown, past the Crucible and up Mandela Parkway, cutting through downtown and over to Grand Lake. I park over near Lakeshore Drive, we grab some Colonial Donuts and camp out for a while by the lake, killing time and attempting to calm our nerves.

We catch the 6:11pm bus over to Broadway and West MacArthur – my heart beats a little out of my chest as we approach the amphitheater. I burst into a smile upon seeing familiar SFØ faces, and humbly excited in meeting the other half of the organizers I hadn’t already had the pleasure to meet. More and more of my friends arrive – we are very early so we get a little preview of who’s chasing and who’s checkpointing.

Closer to 7pm more and more people file and cluster into the space, more familiar faces emerge from the crowd – I’m already having an amazing time in just seeing us all in the same space, sharing the same thrilling anticipation.

JØURNEY:



_
Dax volleys instructions via megaphone to what is now a mass of runners – we all receive our armbands and maps. At this point we have formulated into a group: Myself, JB Monotony/Bryce, JTony, Praximity/Tyler, Tiny Dancer/Brittney, Anomaly/Steven/Stephen. Kristina provides us with sage words and well wishes and sooner than we expect we are off!


_
We made it a point to travel far and away from the direct path, and were satisfied to spot no chasers (or even other players) taking our route. We’re all jumpy and nervous (me more so than others) and I find myself frantically pre-planning the best route from each checkpoint to the next. I’m starting to get borderline neurotic… and frankly I’m not having the most fun I could be having, but I am still exhilarated to finally be running Journey after all this time spent waiting for June 20th to come.

We approach the first checkpoint (our minor planning dramas explained above) and are wary but excited that we have yet to see a single chaser.

Of course, within a block of the safe zone, a chaser appears from his hiding spot behind a parked car. We all bolt. His eyes lock onto me and I run. “Shit…” escapes from my lips. I run down a driveway in hopes of discouraging him to follow someone running away from an open, obvious pursuit path. Still he follows. I dash through someone’s garden, narrowly avoiding their tomatoes before hopping down an embankment into the neighbor’s driveway. Still he follows. I run into the street and volley myself through the approximately ten inch gap between a parked minivan and sedan and turn uphill. It’s at this point I immediately regret partaking in 1) the very hilly North Berkeley bike ride I took with friends Thursday evening and 2) the 22 mile San Jose Bike Party ride that did not end until 2am Saturday morning. I’ve spent the last of my reserve energy that I hadn’t already depleted on my fixed-gear excursions. I loose speed. Ultimately, he has longer legs. He catches me, out of breath and with a smile on his face and motions for my green ribbon. The green ribbon I was so proud to wear, the green ribbon so nicely tied into a bow by my teammate, the green ribbon that has meant so very much to me in a so very impossibly short amount of time.

“Hey, you’re fast!” he says, out of breath. It’s at this moment in time I am overcome with emotion. We stand on the corner, the chaser and I, and as I remove my ribbon I cannot contain myself. In anger I throw it at his hand and say “fuck.” Then, I shout it. As I rest my face in my hands tears and sobs shake my entire body as I make some attempt to process what just happened, and why I'm so upset about it. He says, “You know, the game is pretty fun from this angle too.” I appreciate his efforts – but his words are lost to me. I make some attempt, in between weeping, why I am so upset at being caught. I ask him if he plays SFØ. “No, but I’m a friend of Sean, Ian and Sam from Chicago.” I tell him that’s great, and ask how long he’s known about Journey. “Oh, a few months.” Months… sure, I’ve probably only known about Journey’s existence for about twice that… but I’m fairly sure he hasn’t been spending too much of his time shamelessly promoting and planning. It’s only a street game, after all. I continue to cry – I think of my teammates and wonder of their fate – none of them know Oakland like I do (but clearly that didn’t help me) I had no idea whether or not they even made it to the checkpoint. Don’t get me wrong, he was a very nice gentleman and made effort to calm me down (even though some of what he said didn’t necessarily help) and he encouraged me not to “give up” (ouch) on the game and just try to play as a chaser for a while. I thanked him for his compassion and apologized for the undesirable circumstance of our meeting, but assured him I could not continue with the game unless I was running it, as experiencing it at least once all the way through as a runner was all I really wanted from the night. At this point I receive a few calls to my cell phone – my teammates asking if I am alright. I have to pause and it’s probably the hardest words I can say that I’ve been caught. With their condolences I burst forth with new tears – I am thankful they have survived to the first checkpoint – a simple luxury I wasn’t even granted …on my very first Journey. I hadn’t even reached what was probably the simplest goal of the night.

Anomaly rounds the corner across the street, sees me, not knowing I have been caught shrugs at me and asks where the checkpoint is… the chaser leaves me and sprints away for a minute, only to return empty handed. I’ve obviously tired him out – not a very intelligent move on his part, tiring himself out so soon in the night. He wishes me well and I thank him, we part ways.

Dejected, not quite out of tears, I start crossing through the hills back to Lakeshore and my car. As I cannot bear to become a chaser I decide to at least pay visit to each of the checkpoints and offer my moral support to my surviving friends passing through. The walk is not long, but walking alone affords me time to contemplate my situation. As I am submerged in thought, runners pass me by, turning their heads around corners and rushing through the evening along their chosen paths. It is then the first two of the Four Noble Truths pass through my mind:
1) Life is Suffering.
2) The Root of All Suffering Is Attachment.
I consider how my very deep anticipation for running Journey all the way to the end has prevented me from even considering what would occur if I were to be caught, and that I am so upset because I was so adamant on completing Journey as a runner. I also come to the conclusion that Chance simply was not on my side at all in that moment … and it proved to me, just that much more, that despite how much you yearn for something, despite how much you prepare for an event, there is always equal chance that it will go fantastically or end in disaster.

When I’m within two blocks of my car, I spot Colin, one of the SF Tweed ride organizers (and its primary Twitter representative), now a chaser, walking up the opposite side of the street. We greet each other, and he too is puzzled why I am not chasing. Again, “giving up” is mentioned, but my reply this time is more poignant – I reply, “I just don’t have it in me to chase people like this, I’ve been this way since I was a kid.” (or something to that extent) I myself don’t get this statement much at the time, and he shrugs and mentions how he doesn’t mind chasing, he is an ex-punk! We reach my car, and I wish him a good rest of Journey.

In the car I come to grips with my situation and I am no longer [terribly] upset about my predicament. I drive by the second checkpoint only after assessing that parking is difficult around there and I don’t see any of my teammates coming or going, so I travel onto the third checkpoint in hopes of finding parking and waiting long enough for my friends to arrive.

The third checkpoint is a welcome sight: Lowteck greets panting, newly arrived runners with offers of lemonade and a spin of a wheel to determine their digestible fate. When he sees I’m neither running nor chasing he encourages me to still pay visit to the checkpoints and I assure him of my plans to do so. He also mentions that there’s a way I can re-enter the game… but he’s not at liberty to divulge any more information. I take this into consideration, but worry about how I haven’t obtained any signatures and the first checkpoint is most certainly closed by now. I am then presented with two petitions, one veeerrryyy anti-broccoli and one appealing for the ceasing of violent actions on the part of the anti-broccoli protesters. Reading over the two statements I mention to the other checkpoint guardian that this will be difficult to make an unbiased choice in terms of what to sign as I know the player who is very anti-broccoli (I look in Lowteck’s direction, he smiles in apprehension at my decision). Ultimately, I choose the petition attempting to stop the violent actions of the anti-broccoli coalition (they were demanding the stoning of farmers! Farmers just trying to make a living growing whatever will support their families!) and attempt to click the ballpoint pen a few times before realizing that it’s an electric-shocking prank pen instead of just the nerve endings in my funny bone randomly overloading. Lowteck, of course, shakes his head. “They deserve it, if they’re going to grow broccoli!”



He informs me that Myrna and Lincoln are working the second checkpoint (which I skipped over) and I make to leave to pay them a visit. However, at that moment Ian and Jackie emerge into the safe zone carrying red and orange umbrellas and wearing headlamps! They’re playing the “good-fairies” featured in the DC Journey – traveling safe zones! Suddenly it dawns on me… I have, in my possession, a red umbrella AND a headlamp. I immediately approach Ian and excitedly ask him if they’re in need of any other ‘umbrella people.' He’s unsure but thinks it’s a possibility, and kindly provides me with Dax’s phone number to ask him myself! At this point my spirits are lifted anew, and as I dial Dax’s number I am flush with emotion at a potential return to the game – but this time as a benevolent figure!
Dax graciously declines my suggestion, wonders what the devil I’m doing with a red umbrella on a perfectly clear day and makes a very serious point of demanding who tipped me off! I swore that there was no breech in his planning security and he encouraged me to come join them at the finish line to wait with the other organizers. I thanked him, but I was already set on visiting all the checkpoints first.



By that time I wasn’t sure if the second checkpoint was still open and didn’t want to risk parking far away and walking over only to find that it was closed. So, I traveled on to the fourth checkpoint.

Arriving at the fourth checkpoint, I was admittedly disappointed that this was the Chinatown playground chosen (as I admire the one with the junker ship so much more!) but was still thoroughly excited to find my friends Anna One and Magpie running an excellent checkpoint of mythological proportions!



minotaur smoke break!

It is at this checkpoint I decided to lay in wait for my teammates, as just having gotten word they were arrived at the third checkpoint and making their way over presently.
As I waited I conversed with other players (runner and chaser alike) and learned how many people who were tagged as chasers merely went home and started drinking early – probably out of similar (but most likely a lesser degree of) disappointment, and I was glad I decided to stick around and make effort to see the rest of the checkpoints as well as welcome my friends through the more-than-halfway point of the game.
A little while later my friend Jeremiah actually enters the safe zone, and I am quite happy to see him as I just mentioned the game to him the other day and had no idea he would actually play! He inquired as to why I was looking so doleful and I filled him in, and he very kindly says in so many words ‘buck up, camper!’ at which I smile (or at least attempt to).

After he completes the checkpoint task Jeremiah informs me of the ‘secret’ way to re-enter the game (as provided by one of the checkpoint guardians). The phone booth symbol on the map near checkpoint six … I seriously consider this proposition for a moment but decide against depriving someone else (who most likely wants to run again more than myself) of the opportunity to be resurrected.
Soon after he leaves my teammates arrive, all extending open embraces and solace. I fight back some tears and I’m genuinely glad they’ve made it safely. They happily complete the checkpoint task and regroup to plan their course of action to checkpoint five. Intermittedly they inform me of their adventures thus far – their extreme panic after I was caught, how JTony and Tiny were hiding in bushes nearby to where I was caught and witnessed my complete and utter distress (it’s at this point I definitely start crying again, Bryce offers me a hug), their reunion at checkpoint three and addition of another member, Ben [Sunshine]. I tell them about my experience at checkpoint three, calling Dax, and the odd coincidence of having a red umbrella AND a headlamp handy on the night of Journey.

Currently I’m feeling rather emotionally neutral or numb, and I can see how I appear really upset to everyone (frankly, it’s no lie, I was indeed deeply unsettled for both reasons of joy and of sorrow) and they encourage me to run along side them. It’s at this point Ben [Sunshine] mentions how he’s heard of many chasers laying in wait just beyond 880 (the freeway we need to cross under to reach the next safe zone, 2nd street). An idea occurs to me and I say it – I offer myself up as scout to their party – I’ll walk ahead of the group and warn them of any potential chaser activity. I’m feeling really good about this, I’ve rejoined with my group, and even though I’m not running with them I can still be a helpful force in their adventure.

We reach the safe zone for checkpoint five uneventfully – there were a few persons who I had to investigate up close (whether or not they wore orange arm bands) but no actual chasers were anywhere in sight. Walking along with the group, basking in the glow of their revelry at making it this far soon however brought on pangs of sadness about how I could have been also included in their accomplishments… if not for blind chance. Ironic, of course, that I was the only one of my team to be caught – I was the only one out of all of them with vast knowledge of Oakland, the one who was most outwardly excited for the game weeks in advance, and I definitely am not lacking in physical agility.

We reach checkpoint five, complete the task and have good enough fortune to encounter YellowBear and Bex ready to leave as another mobile safezone with their giant red umbrella. The rest of my team walks in good spirits with them to checkpoint six, and as I am temporarily uneeded I run off for a while in search of a restroom (drinking all that water in preparation for dehydration from running didn’t prove very useful).



We all end up at checkpoint six safe and sound, but unfortunately greeted by the sorry sight that the building’s security guards have kicked out our checkpoint! Despite this, we have a jolly time meeting up with Minch, Kristina, Shalaco, some other Corpus Callosum members and Herbie Hatman as they administer the task to my teammates.
Minch and I exchange biiiiiig hugs, she very kindly complements my haircut (Vulcan!) and as we seat ourselves in the rocking chairs by the roadside. Bryce is nearby as she asks how our night as been and is puzzled as to why I’m not wearing any armbands. What comes out of my mouth next is characteristic of the odd clarity of thought that has come over me – I tell her about how I was caught and how I felt completely unable to perform as a chaser as “I just don’t have it in me to take things away from people.” Bryce looks at me and after a pause says, “I think that’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard.” And in a way, he’s hit the nail on the head – it strikes me that my fundamental nature as a really, really (oftentimes ridiculously) Nice person has actually prevented me from participating in this game to my fullest. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sincerely flattered and humbled by what he said, I try very hard every day to ‘be the change I want to see,’ to be the most gracious, accommodating, and sincere individual as much as humanly possible. But, at the end of the day, it's just the nature of the world we live in that being nice sometimes isn't enough. I was clearly distraught over not being able to run Journey anymore and it really just brought tears to my eyes even thinking about ever making someone else feel the way I was feeling at that moment. (Of course, I realize exactly why I was so miserable, and that I take all the credit for. I was in extreme denial of ever being caught over the course of this game and I suppose in a rather harsh way I received my just deserts for being so attached.)

I’m really not looking for pity here, and I wasn’t at the time either – I was (understandably) caught up in my own misery and I tried my hardest not to impress that upon other people, but frankly I am TERRIBLE at disguising my emotional states.

Everyone gets through telling their jokes (with varying degrees of success) to Herbie and we bolster ourselves for the last and final leg of our good long run. Shalaco, now retired from his bicycle-chaser duties turns out to be a very helpful scout for farther-reaching distances while I carry on my job scouting about one-half to one block ahead of the group. Because of the time, location, and warnings of multitudes of chasers lurking along the lake we decide to camp out in the 12th Street BART station until the 51 Bus comes to take us to West Grand, where we can cut over to the edge of the final safe zone.

But despite it not being terribly late (around 12:15am), I receive a text from Shalaco that the final checkpoint has been shut down by the police and that we better get there quick (and not to worry about chasers, as they’ve all left). At this point we are already on the bus, so we resolve to take the most direct route and have me scout ahead just in case there are any more chasers around just for the sake of chasing and stealing ribbons. We’re also still set on edge by another text I just received from my friend Jeremiah who had the misfortune of being caught mere feet from the safe zone. As we approach 20th street Bryce and JTony become worried about the time and catching BART home – and after hearing that the final checkpoint is near-closed they take their leave for 19th Street Station as we carry on in their honor.

Once we leave the bus I scout ahead, checking to see that none of the people departing the safe zone appear interested in catching additional runners, and wave to my teammates it’s a clear shot to the safe zone. We round Fairyland and in seeing more people leaving we make a dash for the Gazebo and make it, by the skin of our teeth, to the finish line where Dax signs in my teammates and awards them their buttons.



They hoot and holler, collapse from exhaustion and joy and I watch with a timid smile on my face (probably not too visible in the darkness). Jeremiah comes over and I empathize with him also being caught, in many ways the situation of his capture was just as agonizing as mine – I didn’t even make it to the first checkpoint but he ran the whole game safely only to be trapped so near the final checkpoint.

I make a point to show Dax my red umbrella and head lamp and he offers a laugh, which is all I’m really looking for, and he and Rubin continue to pack up camp.

EPILOGUE:

My teammates express their great thanks to me for helping them through the latter half of the game, express their sorrow at my being caught and for these gestures I am deeply thankful. As I see it, I did not achieve my original goal of running my first Journey in its entirety, but I did fulfill my ambitions of helping my friends at whatever cost – and for this reason I am happy with the night.

We all part ways, hugs are exchanged and Tiny plants an amazing kiss of gratitude on my cheek – Jeremiah, Tyler and I resolve to get some celebratory drinks at the Ruby Room. It’s just the same as usual (with the exception of one bartender lighting the bar on fire – purposefully) but all of us are waaaayyy too exhausted to dance to the selection of fine tunes the DJ is spinning. So we sit, we drink, and conclude our night on a happy (though weary) note.




ENDING THOUGHTS:

Reading through the other praxis of the night, I admire the fact that not all the other people who “gave up” just went home or out drinking and made effort to visit the other checkpoints, and that those who became chasers were also faced with the same disheartening feelings at their newfound duties. I salute you, if only for proving I am not alone in my particular sentiments.

“What made my decision, though, was that despite the orange band around my arm, I still identified with the runners. I didn't want to inflict that same sinking feeling that I now felt upon other people aspiring to make it to the end.” – Future

“This was the moment that changed - nothing. I didn't even really feel like catching any of the friendly runners. I did, however, feel like seeing the other checkpoints. All of them.” – Ugly Igloo

p.s. - keep an eye out for my teammates' praxis! i would have submitted with them, but i didn't want to steal the thunder of their success!

And a great bow to everyone else:
Checkpoint Guardians and Umbrella-toters, I salute you.
Accomplished Chasers, I salute you.
Accomplished Runners, I salute you.

Again, Thank You Journey facilitators for hosting such an incredible event! You’ve brought joy and fun to so many people –what else does one need from life?