Canton to Garden City

What am I doing here? This vast expansiveness has filled me with emptiness. I feel like I’m on a never ending death march. The towns I pass through are little oasises for life yet when I reach them at the end of the day, loneliness is what fills me. I walk for shade. I walk for water. The Kansans are kind and helpful people but they are weary. Everyone is more than willing to help but I have to ask for it. Sometimes, I don’t remember how. I know how to ask for water but how do you ask for good company?

At 4am my death march continued. After eating breakfast I still felt famished but the glow of the fireflies glittering the horizon above the wheat fields distracted me. I was surrounded by the predawn darkness and the sound of the oil rig’s click, click, click filled the air. The sun began to rise and as other’s began their day, I fought to continue mine. When I stopped walking I would zone out and tingling would begin to fill my limbs. I could feel my body becoming dead weight and my legs unable to bear the burden of me and my pack. I braced myself with my trekking poles, ready for the loss of my equilibrium. My body was quitting on me. I took a glucose tablet, hoping it would help, and kept going. Reaching McPherson would be my saving grace, I just had to get there. Once I got into town I called a woman, Jill, out of the blue and asked if she could host me. At her earliest convenience she came and picked me up from the nearby church where I’d been discovered sitting on the lawn. The pastor told me I could wait inside for Jill and in the mean time he asked me questions about my walk and introduced me to everyone that walked by. There was something about the way he asked his questions that told me he wanted more than a surface level response. So, I gave him the long versions. The long versions that helped me remember what I was doing and why. Jill came and got me and immediately took me to breakfast at her favorite cafe. She really felt like an angel. I ate a pecan, blueberry pancake that was the size of my face and all my troubles dissolved. She took me back to her home and showed me where I could rest. I slept the entire afternoon and only briefly woke up to feel the tingling, heavy weight of my arms. My body still needed more rest. In the evening, I went with Jill and her three granddaughters to go watch Wonder Woman and for the evening I was part of the family. From Jill I learned that I had an entire lifetime to live adventurously. That may sound silly but everyone tells me to “do it while you’re young,” as if the option to be spontaneous and adventurous only has a limited time span. With Jill, I saw her hunger for life sustained even though her body didn’t work as well as it did in her younger days. It gave me hope and made me wonder, “What’s next?”

I started walking at 6am and I felt good. I followed a gravel road the entire day and ended up at my 20 mile mark by noon. I sat under the shade of a tree and looked at my map. “What now?” The day was cool and I suddenly decided I didn’t want to waste the day. “I’m going to keep going,” I rashly decided. Ten more miles down the road and a total of eleven hours of walking, I walked through the doors of a Dairy Queen. That had been my motivation for the day, a salted caramel blizzard. While in there, a man told me about a spot for camping and showers and with that I reluctantly hobbled through town to find this spot. What a great relief it was once I got there.

I awoke at 4:45am and felt awful. Despite being dead tired I still woke up several times through the night. I had planned to do another thirty mile day but I had overestimated myself. It almost started to feel like an out of body experience as I took each step. At one point, I focused too much on that sensation and for a split second tingling soared through my entire body. What was happening to me? The chocolate chip granola bars I’d munch on began to make my stomach upset yet hunger grew within me. The dirt roads became sand pits, making it twice as hard to walk through, and then the trees disappeared. The landscape was fill with dead crops and flooded fields. My level of frustration with Kansas was increasing but I tried to tell my self to take it section by section. I listened to music and sang out loud along the country roads and occasionally stopped to serenade the herd of cattle I stumbled upon. After about 20 miles I knew I had to stop. My body wouldn’t tolerate another ten. I sat under a tree at the edge of town to rest. I couldn’t help but think how Kansas felt like a twilight zone. A car drove up the drive way to the property I was sitting on and a man, bent from the hip at a 90 degree angle, walked up to me and asked if I needed anything. He said he didn’t mind me setting up my tent but that there was a RV spot at the edge of town with bathrooms and showers. So I wandered a mile in that direction and scanned the park for its facilities. A pool with children screaming with glee were across the field and a man in a truck told me I could ask to use the pool showers. I made my way to the pool and got the okay before walking into the locker room with my stinky self and gear. Little girls ran through laughing until they saw me. Then, they looked terrified. I tried to crack a friendly smile as I hurried to the corner with a shower. I examined my worn body and pulled the stickers from my socks. My heels were blistering and my back was still being rubbed raw from my pack. I just had to make it four more days and then I could take a rest day.

 I wandered into town after another early morning and spotted a group of guys in neon yellow t-shirts ahead of me. They looked like they were making a game plan for the day’s work and I didn’t want to interrupt. I tried to quietly mosey by but as soon as I was spotted the boss called out to me, “You should work for us! We walk all day!” I was immediately drawn to the positive energy and excitement. I responded, “Depends, what’s the job?” They were pipeline surveyers and mostly from Texas! Talking to them made my morning and I thought it ironic that it took Texans in Kansas to be the ones to acknowledge me. I left town feeling the love from my fellow Texans and then a guy stopped and asked if I needed a ride. I declined but as he drove off I thought to myself, “I have a commitment to suffering.” It seemed twisted. I wanted out of Kansas but I just declined a ride. The wind was 20+ mph and I walked horizontally to continue forward. A SUV pulled over in front of me and Victor and Yvonne offered me water and then a ride. I felt that I needed to walk the remainder of the way and I didn’t need anymore water but I did find out that Victor’s mother lived in the next town. I asked if I could set my tent up in her lawn for the night and he made the phone call to ask. I was extremely pleased to have a destination for the night! We exchanged phone numbers so he could direct me to the house once I got closer and then kept walking with the offer of a ride hanging in the air if I changed my mind. Three miles down the road I stopped to rest under a shady tree and saw I had a message from Victor. “Need anything from Walmart?” I couldn’t think of anything but I knew from the message they were going to come see me once I got to his mother’s place. I was excited. I had a good feeling about Victor and Yvonne and I wanted to talk more with them. As I sat under the shade tree, seven miles left, I wondered why I was wearing my body down. What did I have to prove? My joints hurt and I had a lot of walking to do before I could get out of Kansas. So, I sent the message for him to come pick me up and threw in the towel for the day. Victor and Yvonne ended up offering me a shower and their couch and with that I got to listen to their life stories. They were with Bikers for Christ and shared how accepting Christ into their lives had saved them. They were starting a biker church where they shared the word of God through love and acceptance. All the while, Yvonne made sure I had plenty of food to eat and everything else I needed. They told me I was now part of the family and then offered to drive me to Dodge City, 80 miles away. I couldn’t accept that. That was a huge distance! Then again, I could. Kansas was hot, windy, and harvest season was about to start and that’d bring huge dust clouds. I agreed to the ride and it was settled that after church in the morning we’d go on an adventure to Dodge City.

Victor and Yvonne took me to their regular church, their biker church wasn’t meeting that day, and they assured me it was filled with love and acceptance. The service started with songs and everyone stood up and sang the word of God. It was lively and everyone seemed so happy. At the end, I went to the front with Yvonne and Victor. We had a prayer circle and held hands with the pastor and a few of the other members to pray for my journey. The amount of love I felt in those moments was overwhelming and I could feel emotion rising within me and tears starting to form in my eyes. The drive to Dodge City was quick and we stopped at Pawnee Rock and the U.S. halfway sign in Kinsley. They were going to drop me off at a motel but Victor had to approve of it first. The first two looked deserted and sketchy so we went on to the next. Motel 6 was settled on. Victor walked me up to my room and I knew it was strange for him. He had dedicated his life to protecting people and now he was leaving me in a random motel in sketchy area. As he left I heard him check the door behind him to make sure it locked and then there was just me again. I was apprehensive about being in Dodge City. I stared out my motel window and worked up the courage to walk to the Dairy Queen across the street. I felt exposed walking through the empty parking lot but hunger won out.

I walked 18 miles along the highway only stopping to pee. My right quad felt like it wanted to pull and my knee had a tweak in it. I made it into town before noon and ran errands: Doller General, Subway, Richie’s Cafe, Library, Post Office, and then the City Park. I tried finding wifi at the cafe but there was none so I sat in the air conditioned building and drank water. The waitress offered me fruit on the house and I wanted to leave a tip despite not getting anything. However, the woman refused. “But it is for you,” I said. She looked at me and said “Oh no, I can’t.” I felt a little defeated. I wanted to show my gratitude and didn’t know what else I could do. Next, I went to the library and there I found wifi. I wanted to work on my blog but I found myself unable to focus and tired. I sat in a chair for a while and tried to relax but I felt weird falling alseep with people around me. I decided I’d just go to the park and sit in the shade until nightfall. The temperature was going to be above 100°F but I figured I should try to acclimate in a controlled area (food, water, shade, people). However, I found myself harassed by flies and simply waiting. My only interaction was with an older couple that sat at a table across from me for a few minutes. But, they barely spoke english. Even so, I could see their kindness in their behavior and the few words they spoke to each other. When they left I looked at the route to Colorado, Utah, and Nevada and I didn’t know how I was going to do it. Anxiety rose within me. I was tired of walking highways. I was tired of having a limited window of time before the great plains turned into a furnace. I didn’t know what I was doing out there anymore. Why was I doing this? I was no longer the person I was when I started. Will these feelings disappear when I leave Kansas? I wasn’t sure. Then I dropped my bear spray on my toe. It filleted a chunk of skin off below my toe nail and I lost all composure. Tears rolled down my face and strange grieving noises exited me. I stared at my poor toe and watched the blood swell and then clot. At dusk I set up my tent under the pavillion and hid behind the picnic tables. I tried to hide in plain sight but failed when a kid went to throw away his trash. “Oh shit, there’s someone in there,” he exclaimed to his friend as he scurried away.

I woke up thirty minutes later than I would’ve liked and knew I’d be paying for it in the heat of the day. It got hot quick but I was thankful for the dirt under my feet. A guy, Tom, pulled over and talked to me a few minutes. He had walked the Santa Fe Trail as a history project and was excited to see someone else walking along it. He had gained a lot of spirituality and meditation time from the experience and I wanted to feel his enthusiasm for the plains but it didn’t come to me. He offered water and sunscreen before he continued his drive to his family reunion but I declined. I had a mile and a half left before my stopping point and despite feeling a tad over-heated and dry-mouthed I continued. I headed straight to the church but found a small playground/park area instead. There was water and shade so I decided that would be home for the evening. Across the street, a man sat in his yard under the shade of a tree. I went over to him to ask if it was alright to set my tent up at the park but I mostly wanted something to do and someone to talk to. He redirected me to the man with the answer, Vernal. I received vague directions to Vernal’s house and temporarily entertained the idea of finding him, again to have something to do, but I was tired of walking. So, I ended up hiding from the sun and wind by the volunteer fire department next to the park. I listened to a podcast, tried to sleep, killed flies, picked my scabs, and stared at the ground. My podcast told me that to have grit you have to have: interest, passion, purpose, and hope. How was I going to maintain grit when I was losing my purpose and hope? I had less than 100 miles to Colorado but would anything change? Later, while I made my “redneck MRE” a dog appeared from around the corner and was so excited it started knocking into everything. I thought a split second ahead and turned my stove off before he wiggled himself over my backpack and near my food. Out of the corner of my eye, I happened to see a rooster! The dog took off after it and they both promptly disappeared. After the few moments of excitement I continued making my food, which was not something I was excited about. It was beef stew potatoes that tasted mostly like salt and had zero texture. I unwillingly ate half of the bag and gave up on the rest. My morale sinking even lower. I needed to try to lift my spirits so I went over to the swing and tried to find the same bliss I did as a child. I posed the question to myself, “What makes swinging so much fun?” My only inclination was that it could make me feel like I was flying.

In the night, I was blessed by a white cat. As I slept I felt pressure on my head and saw a blob. I grabbed my glasses, strangely unalarmed, and saw the cat. It then reached up onto my tent and in fear of it creating a tear I said, “Back,” and it ran off. I was awoken by roosters in the light of day. I’d slept in because I only had 13 miles to walk but while I walked I sang and danced. I had a destination for the night, a homeless shelter called Emmaus House. I called and asked about the procedures for staying there. I’d have to go to the police station to get a background check but I needed to get to the house first to make lunch time. I knocked on the door and was greeted by a gentleman and two ladies. I had no idea what or where I was suppose to go inside the house. I wasn’t overwhelmed but rather uninformed. I couldn’t begin the entry process until I had the background check so I plopped my stuff pack in a corner, sat, and mimicked what the people around me were doing. I didn’t know who ran the place and who was staying there so I sat and waited for the food to be served. The gentleman, Chris, was sociable and I was able to talk with him about various adventures in New Mexico. The other guys were friendly but continued to watch TV. Lunch, three different types of beans and meat, was served and three guys came to sit at the table. Anyone could show up for the meals so now I was trying to figure out who was staying in the house. The guy on my left started to talk about hating to work and that he won’t work. I was a bit shocked at that mentality because I’m always doing something. I wanted to know more so I asked him what he liked to do. And his response was a vague, “Hangout.” The guy seemed like a nice enough guy but his body language shouted a complete lack of confidence. I could see he was one of the individuals that abused the welfare system. After I ate, I went to the police station to get the background check and while I waited I met two guys from Sudan that were reporting a lost wallet. They didn’t speak much english but I enjoyed the broken conversation. It made me realize how much I missed interacting with different cultures. When I got back to the shelter I went through the entry process and talked with the people that ran the house. They were lovely ladies but they shared that not everyone that stayed there was pleasant to interact with. In order to stay at the home you have to follow a select set of rules and each morning after breakfast you have to leave and apply for jobs. I felt out of place after I finished the entry process. Everyone was out applying for jobs and I wasn’t. I stayed in the women’s bunkroom until the evening grew nearer and then I emerged to find everyone gathering for dinner. People were joking with one another and a baby girl ran around. I began to feel comfortable and more like me. There was a couple with a dog outside, a couple that was there for dinner, a couple from San Antonio with their baby girl, and then Chris and me. It was this strange combination of people that turned into a makeshift family. No one was trying to impress one another and everyone just laughed. It gave me a strange sense of belonging.

I had very little sleep in the women’s bunkroom, which was in the basement. It was hot, stuffy, and the majority of the night it felt like things were crawling on me. Chris had wanted to walk with me so I waited for him before taking off. It was nice having someone to talk to while walking but it turned out I’m not a great multi-tasker. We’d be talking and I’d check the map only to realize we missed the turn. It definitely led to a couple extra miles. The roads going out of town barely had a shoulder which made walking along them difficult for one person let alone two. There was little wind and six miles in I already felt fatigued. This was most likely due to not eating breakfast. Chris and I hadn’t eaten because of our early start but we attempted to subside our hunger with granola bars. I knew too that Chris’s feet were hurting so before I even got into the next town, now two miles away, I’d decided I was done walking for the day. Once in town we went directly to the convenience store and got two corn dogs and waited for the nereby cafe, El Rancho, to open. There my anxiety level towards walking increased. I was having some sort of revelation but only in bits and pieces and I just became riddled with anxiety. “What if?” thoughts and uncertainty plagued me. Chris suggested we go to the park to figure things out and there we sat under the pavilion in the shade. I felt like I needed to make a rash decision but quitting wasn’t it. I needed to make a big decision but what? I was stuck with indecision while Chris waited patiently. I was stressing out and Chris started to feel the stress too. I decided I needed to make a few phone calls and with that it was decided that I needed a break. I quickly developed a plan: hitch back to Garden City with Chris and then find a way back to Texas. I figured walking with Chris had diverted my normal pattern of behavior of pushing through my anguish and continuing. That ended up being a good thing. I knew pushing through wasn’t working for me anymore and I needed a change, a big change. It was a wake up call for me. We found a ride back into Garden City at the gas station and were dropped off at the library. There, the third man that had eaten lunch with us the day before, George, came and sat at the table with me. I could only ever make out half of the sentences he said due to mumbling but I thoroughly enjoyed our conversations. I had asked him what he wanted to be when he was a kid and he said firefighter. Now, he was working at a Tyson food plant and I wondered what happened. “Life,” he said, “You start out wanting to do one thing and in the mean time you get distracted going in a different direction.” I realized how much of a luxory it was to work a job you’re passionate about. I found myself surrounded by people who were grateful to have a job regardless if they liked it or not. I wanted to ask George so many more questions but he had to leave for work. I sat there coloring a picture and rejoiced in the simplicity of the moment. Later, I found myself swimming laps at a hotel swimming pool and remembered how much I loved swimming underwater. The only problem was that with contacts I close my eyes underwater to keep them from popping out. So, I decided to take them out and swim in the depths of the pool, with my eyes open. I let the chlorinated water hit my eyes and a blurred peacefullness swept over me as my heart raced with the lack of oxygen. In those moments, I embraced my inner child. The following morning my mother drove eight hours to get me and take me back to Texas. Her love and dedication was impeccable and I don’t think I can ever thank her enough.

Osage City to Canton

Through the night the sounds of thunder paraded the sky and rain poured over the landscape. Although the storm brought cooler temperatures and overcast skies, it lead to a humid morning. As I continued on the rail trail it began to become overgrown and unkept, a forgotten passageway. My shoes and socks became soaked from the beads of water clinging to the grass blades. The conditions gave way to an abundance of mosquitoes and flies. Their relentlessness wore me. I could not pause to rest without being swarmed and if my pace slowed they’d catch me. I pushed myself physically to get from town to town and only saw one person, a mountain biker. He’d rounded the corner right as I flopped to the ground forcing myself to take a breather and take care of my feet. Due to my soaked socks and shoes, I walked sockless for a few miles to allow my feet and shoes to dry out. Unfortunately, my shoes began to rub my ankles and the top of my feet raw. Luckily though, my shoes had dried out enough to allow me to put on my dry pair of socks. But, there was another problem. My lower back and butt were stinging as I walked and when I looked to see what was wrong all I saw were raw patches of skin. The humidity and sweat had caused chafing from my pack and shorts but there wasn’t much I could do so I kept going. I finally hobbled into town but instead of relief I found anxiety. “Where do I go now?” I saw a sign for a meat processing plant and figured I could get water. I went inside and talked to the owner, Phil, who was concerned with me being alone but offered to help. The options of camping at the park or on his property didn’t sit well with him so we settled on me staying in his storage barn. He didn’t want people to bother me and he thought about what it would be like if his daughters were in the same position. He gave me a one pound bag of raw beef for dinner. I was obliged but knew I’d have a few hurdles to overcome when cooking it. You see, when I make my camping meals there never tends to be much sanitation and now I would have cow blood and grease on everything. I didn’t want salmonella or e. coli so my greatest ploy was to avoid touching the raw meat as much as possible with as little as possible. I dumped the meat into my pot and poked at it until it began to brown. My pot was 3/4 full and I could barely stir the meat let alone see if it was completely cooking. I poked at it and then dug a hole to allow stirring and this continued until I was certain all the pink was gone. I sat there eating my unseasoned beef wrapped in tortillas and was overcome by loneliness. “What do I do now?” I cleaned up the grease as best as possible and figured I’d have to wait until I found a public bathroom to clean my pot. I stretched on my sleeping pad and stared at the spider webs surrounding me. I started to grow nauseous but I knew it wasn’t from the beef. I was stressed, anxious, and had been in the humidity all day. All I could do was wait until morning.

I parted with the rail trail and said goodbye to the shade. I had 18 miles of highway walking ahead of me before I could rest. Halfway through the distance, I decided to take a midol capsule but not for the reason you’re thinking. I had been told that it helps with pain relief in joints which I was having plenty of due to the concrete I was walking on for six plus hours day after day. To my surprise, each capsule also had 60mg of caffeine and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing while walking. I noticed my pace quickened and a spike in energy. Joyful noises erupted from me while I walked effortlessly but the heat never subsided. I made it into town and although my joints didn’t feel awful, I started to get a headache. It was time for me to find shade or air conditioning. Thanks to Dawn, a lovely trail angel, I had direction once I got into town, she bought me lunch at the local restaurant. I forced myself to keep walking until I arrived and then I became a discombobulated mess. I walked into a room where two waitresses were folding silverware and they looked at me confused. I hadn’t thought far enough ahead to know what questions I was suppose to ask but finally the words, “A woman called about a hiker arriving,” exited my mouth and I saw the light bulb turn on for the one waitress. She came back with a gift card and told me I needed to go through the other double doors to get into the dining area. I left and wandered into the dining room where I quickly became overwhelmed with all the decisions I needed to make. Where to sit? What to drink? What to eat? Where’s the bathroom? I was purely functioning off the first thing that popped into my head. Once my delicious food arrived I began asking around about possible camping spots and the consensus was the pool. I remembered then about the hosting website, warmshowers and promptly looked at the map. There was a host in the area! Hot dog, I could shower, sleep in a bed, and talk to people! I called the host, Paul, and bam, I had a place to stay. After I got to the house, I conversed with Paul and his wife on their back porch and learned about the other people they’d hosted and what it was like to be foster parents for ten years. I wanted to continue to talk to them but I began to feel exhausted. They were understanding when I went to lie down to nap but I couldn’t help feeling that I was being rude. Even so, my nap was not restful. I eventually gave up on getting rest and called my friend, Steve. I had a mini breakdown. I could feel my fears overwhelming me and the night before I couldn’t sleep because I could see how messed up Kansas was making me and how purposeless I’d feel after I finished walking. I saw how I wouldn’t fit into society. Now, it was almost time for dinner and I had nothing but a nauseous feeling in my stomach.

Paul walked with me to the edge of town and I began another day of monotonous walking. I’d look at my feet as I walked and have to remind myself to look up at the surrounding landscape. All I could do was make observations and then assumptions. What I gathered was that trees led to shade which meant people and people resulted in water. The clusters of trees that I’d see in the distance would mean a few things: a house/farm building, a river, or they were windbreaks which often appeared to be property lines. I could see the beauty of Kansas in the golden wheat fields, the slow moving life that is missed when driving on the highways, and the hills (yes, hills and in fact Kansas is one giant inclined plane increasing in elevation all the way to Colorado). My highlight of the day had to have been seeing a turtle finish crossing the highway. It was my inspiration for the day. I began my way through a cluster of homes that was meant to be a town and I saw a man walking his dog. I yelled out to him, “Do you live here? Can I refill my water?” He was more than happy to help me out and rushed to put his dog inside so that he could help me. I had stumbled upon Rex and Peggy’s home and they were wonderful people. They gave me water to drink, a bathroom to use, and a bench to sit on while I waited out the heat of the day. They were great listeners and so lovely to converse with! I wanted to ask if I could just stay there and camp on their lawn but I had six more miles until my destination. I continued but despite the humidity and insistent gnats that kept flying up my nose, I felt rejuvenated.

After walking for a couple hours I went through a small town and saw a man and a woman doing yard work. I saw a water spigot and yelled to them, “Do you mind if I get some water?” The woman looked around confused. I yelled, “Behind you.” She had no idea where my voice was coming from but she finally spotted me. She told me I could try it but didn’t know if it was turned on. It wasn’t, so she took me to the front of the house to use that one. She ended up letting me use the bathroom, get cold water from inside, and rest on her porch until I was ready to keep going. She was so wonderful and her kindness was the highlight of my day! I wondered why I kept meeting all these incredible people during the day and never found them when I made it to my destination. I began to see the stereotypical Kansas as I headed south and then west: flat, shadeless, and ever expanding. Gnats bombarded me and flew up my nose. If I couldn’t immediately blow them out then I could feel them struggling, regretting their decision. Well, I tried getting one out while walking and I scratched the inside of my nose. Blood started dripping out of my nostril and found its way onto my sleeve. “Great, this is what I need,” I thought. I used my buff to help clot it and it stopped after a couple of minutes. I eventually arrived at another town and part of me wanted to keep pushing forward another nine miles but the temperature was peaking. I knew that if I kept going I’d get heat stroke, so I refrained. Never before had twenty miles felt so unsatisfying. I found myself under a pavilion near a baseball field at the edge of town. I wanted to cry. I wanted people and I wanted interaction. Well, turned out a baseball game was scheduled for the evening and people started showing up to set up. Now, I had people but I was still alone. It almost felt worse. The evening grew on and more people showed up but no one cared that I was there. They ignored me. I wanted to walk over to them and ask about the event to display my humanity but I felt like they viewed me as a creepy person at the park. Even if they didn’t view me that way, my level of social awkwardness had skyrocketed. I would wait in silence until they all left at 10pm and then I’d wake up at 4am to start it all over again.

The light from the street lamps gave way to a fog layering the horizon. Although beautiful I knew that would mean an extremely humid morning. I maneuvered in the darkness to pack up my tent and gathered the less than ideal cloudy water from the spigot. By 8am I’d walked ten miles and by 10am I forced myself to stop walking. There was 87% humidity and I was drenched by my sweat. There was no way my body could cool itself as the temperature kept rising. This left me with one choice. I had to find a house or business along the highway that had enough trees that could sustain shade for the entire day. The first house would only be shady in the morning so I continued to the next patch of trees a mile away. This one was perfect! There was a ditch in between the highway and the line of trees in front of the house/business where the shade was covering. I plopped down, laid out my sleeping pad, took off my shoes, and sprawled  out so I could nap. Gnats, flies, and mosquitoes were abundant so I covered my face with my hat and buff. The gnats would crawl under the brim of my hat and I’d see them crawling in front of my eyes. I laid there and tried to relax but I knew someone would eventually discover me. It took two hours but the postwoman finally spotted me and alerted the neighbors that there was a girl in the ditch. As I laid there, I tried to lie in a peaceful, restful position so no one would be alarmed AND I waved to the postwoman as she drove by but about 20 minutes later I had an audience. I heard a voice and lifted my hat off my face and saw a man and a woman standing at the top of the ditch with a truck of three other people to their right. I got up and said, “Hello! I’m okay, I’m just resting in the shade.” The man walked toward me and I extended my hand and introduced myself. He told me they were debating on whether or not to call the police to make sure I was okay. I understood they were wary of me but I didn’t understand why they didn’t at least yell at me to see if I responded. Anyways, the police weren’t involved and everyone went about their business. A worker eventually came and gave me cold water and then the owner of the property stopped to talk to me after he got his mail. It felt good to have a stimulating conversation and to be able to share my story. His black lab came over and plopped on top of me trying to play. The dog was so happy and so loving! Next, an older woman came out of the house and gave me a bag of apples and granola bars. The gesture was so incredibly sweet! She told me I could keep moving between the trees to get comfortable and stay in the shade but I knew I’d have to get moving soon. I pulled up the hourly temperature forecast and saw that it wasn’t going to get better so I started walking. The humidity had decreased but the temperature was 93ºF and I had twelve miles left to walk. Where ever there was a hint of shade I was there and I acutely listened to my body. At this point, I was fighting my way to get into town before nightfall and without succumbing to heat exhaustion. I found a shrub, surrounded by thigh high grass, that produced sufficient shade as long as I hugged the base of it. I plopped my pack down and embraced the tiny bit of shade when I start to hear a motor. I didn’t think much of it because it was just a passing vehicle. I refrained from looking into the road to spot the source of the noise and just then a massive sprayer machine, the farm vehicle that looks like a monster truck, went zooming past me. My life literally flashed before my eyes. The person driving had no idea I was in the bush and if any part of that machine would’ve been off centered from the road I could’ve easily been obliterated. My rest of the walk into town was no longer focused on heat exhaustion but rather being obliterated. My mind simply wasn’t in a good space and as I got into town all I wanted was to quickly find a spot for my tent. I knocked on the door at one of the first homes I saw and the woman said I could set up at the church but the sheriff will probably talk to me. I wandered further into town and found a girl walking her dog and she told me there was a park at the edge of town that I might be able to set up at. I was so exhausted that I just wandered around trying to scope out a place for my tent. I found an abandoned elementary school and thought about that but I happened across a church and investigated the area. Between the inclined ramp to the entrance and the actual church building I found a nook where I could set up. It was perfect but excitement didn’t fill me. I entered the nook and sat there. I had fought my way to get into the town before dark even though there was nothing waiting for me. For the first time in my life I felt homeless. I was an invisible person and I felt like no one cared about me. I had no where to go and no one wanted me around. I quietly sobbed to myself until I no longer had the energy to do so. It would be a short night because I needed to start walking at 4am, there was no place for me in this town.

Overland Park to Osage City

After walking six miles down the trail with me, Dee said goodbye. It had been a wonderful experience to meet and walk with another strong-willed female in the hiking world and even better to have someone that could relate to the various adverse statements surrounding gender, age, and appearance. I was now off to meet my next host, Chris and his family. I abandoned the bike trail and moved to the streets to use the signs to navigate. My GPS was acting finicky and I had to rely on my own navigational skills to find my way through the city. I finished walking across a crosswalk and then heard, “Amanda!” I looked around trying to determine the origin of the voice. Up ahead on my right, I saw arms flailing out a car window and then, “It’s Chris and Shannon!” They veered into a parking lot and I threw my pack in the trunk and jumped in the car. They told me they were running late for their daughter’s 23rd birthday dinner and that I was welcome to join. After an entire day of eating granola bars, an actual meal sounded delightful so I went with the flow and met the family and friends. I’ve found the moments when I get to partake in family endeavors are the most rewarding. In those moments, I get to be a part of something bigger than myself. I get to see the love that radiates from the people around me.

After two days of rest, a season of Game of Thrones watched, and a new appreciation for mulberries, I continued on my journey. I knew I was going to have hurdles to overcome in Kansas but today I took my time as I walked. I encountered a mulberry tree and started plucking them away and popping them into my mouth. I scoured through the leaves finding the ripest ones while trying to avoid knocking others onto the ground. I felt a childlike bliss and in those moments I had no worries in the world. When I got into town I felt strangely drained. Although there was still plenty of shade, my body was in a bit of shock from the humid heat. Keke and her baby, Rex, would be hosting me for the night but they had a wedding to attend. In the mean time, I hung out at the Busker Festival in the downtown area. It still had a few acts going on and I got to witness the last show, Pogo Fred who does extreme pogo sticking and holds multiple world records. I enjoyed the performance but as I continued to wander around I began to feel overwhelmed. The noises, the people, and the unfamiliarity all over-loaded my senses. I needed to get away from it. I found my way to the park and laid in the shady grass and there I waited for Keke to come and get me.

I was dropped off at the edge of town after breakfast and began walking on the gridded black top and gravel roads. The shade was minimal and I traveled up and down the many hills of eastern Kansas. I’d pass puddles of water and it finally occurred to me that I should utilize them. Not to drink but to dampen my hat and buff, a versatile piece of cloth that you wear on your neck or head. The puddle was brown and filled with bacteria and fungus but I wasn’t focused on that. I saw it as an opportunity. I had been doing my best to keep up with my hydration but that was irrelevant in the humidity. I needed a way to cool my body down and this was the best solution I could think of without expending my drinkable water. As the sun continued to race across the sky, I finally decided that I needed to fuel my body with peanut butter and jelly wraps. I found shade under a tree next to the road and began to munch away when a truck pulled up next to me. I briefly told the guy about my walk but he didn’t seem to care. He was verbose and not much of a listener. I was automatically wary of him and it didn’t help that he was caught up on the fact that I was out there alone. He told me about the murder rates in Kansas City and how dangerous everything was but eventually he decided it was time for him to continue on his way. Before he left though, he tried to give me a miniature baseball bat and a knife but I made sure to tell him I already had what I needed.

I reviewed the ADT route and was quite disappointed with it. It was entirely highway walking and the only decent thing about that would be that people were constantly near me. But, that in itself was a double edged sword. I’d have to be aware of the cars zooming by and I wouldn’t be able to peacefully pee anywhere. In addition to that, there tend to be less shade along the highways and the continuous concrete walking quickly wears on my joints. With all of this in mind, I walked out of town. I happened to check my email after a few miles and I saw that the Kansas coordinator had responded to the email I’d sent him. He informed me that there was a rail trail, Flint Hills Nature Trail,  that I could jump on in Ottawa. “What?!” I thought to myself, “I walked right past it on my way out of town and didn’t even realize it.” There was no turning back for me so I decided I’d catch it in the next town. The problem was that it didn’t exist on Google Maps yet and the information surrounding it was sparse. I would have to blindly follow it until I got to the more established sections. A few hundred feet in front of me I found a gravel path that was encompassed by trees and bushes. It reminded me of the Katy Trail in Missouri so I assumed it was the Flint Hills Nature Trail. There was no signage but I decided to follow it anyways. I could keep tabs on where I was via Google Maps and hoped that eventually I’d find a sign telling me what I was following. The shade was heavenly and I found more mulberry trees. The crushed gravel beneath me softened the impact on my knees and hips as I walked. Tired, hungry, and almost out of water I finally made it to the Vassar State Park Campground. The clouds above me looked like cotton candy but to the left it was a dark abyss. Rain sprinkled down while the sun shined bright in the sky. I hid in my tent waiting for the angry sky to bear a tornado. The winds blew at my tent with no mercy and I realized that my tent was only a curtain of comfort. It would do nothing to protect me from a storm. There was a bathroom shelter I could go to if I needed but that wasn’t much comfort to me. “What is this weather?” I thought. Thunder rumbled around me and I waited for the lightning. But I never saw it. At this point, I whole heartedly believed everything in Kansas was trying to kill me and this wasn’t even an actual storm.

After surviving the night, I made it to my next town in a hurry. There was going to be a care package waiting for me from a lovely trail angel, Dawn, that I was excited about but what really had me moving was a black wall in the sky. As I got to the outskirts of town, people told me there was golf ball sized hail coming and that I should find shelter. I pushed myself to get to the library before the storm hit. There I could rest, rehydrate, and pick up my care package. I sat in a chair in the corner, away from everyone, to spare them of my wild stench. I tried to make a logistical plan for my next move but quickly was becoming overwhelmed. I convinced myself I couldn’t stay in the town and opted to do nine more miles to the next town (the storm had passed). I walked up to the librarian to ask her a question before I left and she asked what I was doing. I was confused. I thought the librarian I’d spoken with earlier had told her. Through our conversation I ended up asking if there was anywhere I could set up my tent for the night and she began making phone calls to the various churches in the area. Turns out her mother, Donna, was able to get me set up in the apartment her church has for missionaries. Before I made my way there, Donna took me to eat at the local cafe and then to church with her. She had the happiest smile I’d ever seen. As the evening wore on I settled in the apartment and I had some over hanging thoughts: 1) There is no mold that fits every situation perfectly. This includes relationships, lifestyle, appearance, etc. The world is incredibly diverse and that staying open minded is key. 2) Don’t do things out of fear 3) Everything in Kansas was trying to kill me- tornadoes, lightning, hail, dehydration, heat stroke, bugs, etc.

Waverly to Kansas City

All I saw was a flat, colorless landscape with trees and hills off in the distance. “This is what the entire state of Kansas is going to be like,” I thought to myself. Strangely enough, I was okay with that. The gravel roads that I traversed were easy on my joints and I could walk in the middle of the road without fear of trucks zooming by. If they were coming, a large dust cloud would alert me of their presence. I found contentment in the isolation and wandering thoughts that circled my head. A house was up on my left and I knocked on the door to ask for water. There was no answer but I helped myself to the spigot on the side of the house. A puppy barked and ran under a shed, watching me from a distance. “Hello?” I called out. No one replied so I quickly refilled my water containers and continued on my way. The ADT route brought me to a green lawn with a man mowing on a riding lawn mower and a giant hill climb. As I approached the man I waved and although he waved back I couldn’t tell if he was continuing to mow in my direction or intentionally mowing towards me. What’s the difference? If he wanted to talk to me he was mowing towards me and if he was mowing in my direction then I knew he would awkwardly avoid my eye contact. Thankfully he was curious and walked to talk to me. I explained my journey and the American Discovery Trail and he told me he was surprised he’d never heard about it because he’s a paddler. A paddler?? He explained to me that there are river angels, like trail angels, and he helps people traveling on the Source to Sea, Montana to the Gulf of Mexico- the 4th longest waterway system in the world. My mind was blown! It made sense that there would be a huge community surrounding the water systems but I’d never been introduced to such a concept! He asked me if I needed anything (food, water, etc.) but I didn’t. After all, I was heading into town to resupply. I was about to be on my way when I thought a WiFi break sounded nice. What started out as sitting in the shade on the porch turned into a tour of the nearby town, the Missouri River, and the farmland Robin’s family owned. I didn’t plan on staying there the entire evening but as the hours passed I found myself enjoying the company of Robin and his wife. As the sun entered the western part of the sky, we all knew that I was going stay the night. After all, I was now family.

Why I walk: The reason as a whole of “why” I’m walking is personal growth, adventure, and human connection, just to name a few. However, I’ve concluded that the daily reasons I walk are different and distinguishable. At this point, over four months in, it is the only reliable thing I can count on. I wake up and I walk. I walk because I have no where to go. I walk because the unknown of stopping is much greater than that of continuing on. In a lot of ways, walking has become an identity and when I’m not doing it I have no purpose. I walk in hope of better weather. I walk because I know I’m not always welcome where I’m at. So, I continue to walk and hope that I will end up where I need to be.

I walked along a highway most of the day and the concrete made my body ache. Thunderstorms were all around me but I was able to walk in my own oasis of sunshine. I’d look up at the sky and see pockets of grey masses of clouds and rain underneath them. Was the wind blowing them in my direction? A red truck pulled up beside me and the man asked me a few questions about my journey before asking if I took rides. I was happy to converse with him but it wasn’t ideal to be doing it in the middle of the road so the truck drove further down and pulled into a driveway and waited for me. Susie and Steve jumped out of their vehicle to talk to me and I replied to their ,”Do I take rides?” question with, “Sometimes, but I have no where to go.” I knew I was headed into town but other than that I didn’t know where I was going to spend the night. They told me they had a nice camping spot and could bring me back to where I left off the following morning. A city utility worker happened to be parked in the same vicinity as all of us and Steve told him everyone’s name and what county they lived in. The utility worker didn’t realize it but he was going to be the witness if anything happened to me or Steve and Susie. It was evident to me here how Steve and Susie were taking precautionary measures for themselves as well as for me. It was a good reminder that when people help me it is an act of trust in both directions. They don’t know me and I don’t know them. I agreed to go with them and then I saw there were two more people in the back of the truck, their sons. I chuckled a little to myself because I couldn’t see their faces. They each had hydrangeas on their lap and their faces were buried in the plants. Whenever they asked me a question it was a voice coming out of the leaves. We drove to the other side of the Missouri River and into the storm. Rain began to pound on the truck and the windshield wipers struggled to keep up with the amount of rain. We got to an empty property filled with shipping containers and work in progress landscaping projects. There was one large shelter, a giant metal garage, and we all hurried inside to escape the downpour. Inside, several vehicles were torn apart, unfinished projects, and then there was a plastic table. I was confused. Where did they live? There was no electricity or plumbing here. Were they planning on leaving me here? I quickly was becoming overwhelmed by the massive amount of noise from the storm and the uncertainty of where I was. They explained to me that their sons lived in one of the neighboring towns and they lived a few towns over. Due to the weather, they were determining where would be best for me to stay. They told me their home was a mess but I assured them I didn’t mind. On the way to their home, Steve told me that if I felt uncomfortable they would get me a hotel room and they wanted this to be a positive experience. When we pulled into the driveway there were more unfinished projects surrounding the yard. I still didn’t know what to expect when I entered the home. Why did they keep insisting that their home was such a mess? Everyone tells me that. As they unlocked the door I saw exactly what they had been telling me. There was a single walkway throughout the house and clothes, magazines, and other knick knacks were in piles everywhere. I followed the path to the empty couch and tried to process the mess before me. I was overwhelmed and began to have a sick feeling in my stomach. While Steve and Susie went on a binge cleaning spree I thought about their hotel offer. I did my best to think about the situation logically. I knew that I was hungry and that was part of the reason I felt unwell and then I remembered that part of my journey is learning about people and their lives. It would be unfair to remove myself from this situation because it wasn’t what I expected. I could tell Steve and Susie were nice people and they were incredibly excited to help me. I decided I needed to stay and I changed my mindset about the situation. After my initial shock wore off, Steve and Susie took me out to eat at a Mexican restaurant and with a full belly life began to fill me again. There they told me one of the reasons they had stopped to talk to me was because when they passed me the first time I smiled and waved at them (I try to wave to most of the cars to pass me). I’m glad I was able to work through my initial shock towards Steve and Susie’s living situation because I ended up having a wonderful time getting to know them!

I was dropped off at the civil war battle ground in Lexington in the drizzling weather. It was such a strange feeling to be walking on a lush, green field where I knew hundreds of people had died. Despite this, I couldn’t help but think how cool of a camping spot it would’ve been if Susie and Steve hadn’t of picked me up the night before. One of the things that I have started to realize through all the historical places I’ve travelled through is that the reasons in each state  and town for fighting in the civil war were different. It was not a cut and dry slavery or no slavery issue. From what I learned at Lexington, it sounded like Missouri was tired of government control and that was the main reason the Missouri militia fought against the Union soldiers. Yes, it is all tied together but the way I learned about it in school made the reasons for fighting sound simple. I walked through the dreary weather and endured the rain. However, I wasn’t miserable. The rain brought a liveliness to me and I started to sing or rather make loud noises along the side of the road. At the last minute I decided to cut out the extra 20 mile loop the ADT took me on and settled on walking the highway the rest of the way to Kansas City. With this, I ended up at the Fort Osage Fire Department and rung the door bell. I had called the police and they unfortunately weren’t much help but the fire department was directly in front of me. They didn’t know where I could go but there was a piece of property next to them they said I could camp on. I was delighted to have a field to set up on but when I went inside to get water it was decided that I could stay in one of their extra bunks! I was introduced to the staff on shift and told that I could eat dinner with them too. Chicken pot pie was on the menu. Yummy! There was only one female staff on shift and it seemed she was given the responsibility to show me the ropes of the station. Everyone was incredibly nice but it appeared that I was at a loss for words. My shyness shined bright and I mostly only spoke when spoken to. However, everyone was engaging and I was delighted to tell them about my walk when they had specific questions. It was amazing to see how much of a family they all were. They end up spending more time at the fire station than they do at home. Cheyenne, the only female on shift, did an amazing job of checking up on me and making sure I had everything I needed. I was told that 6:30am was wake up for the shift change and that it was a possibility that the fire alarm could go off in the middle of the night. The night ended up being restful and alarmless but at 6:30am the lights flicked on and it was time to start another day.

I was on my way into Independence, one of the suburbs of Kansas City, and was told I was pushing it going that far into the city. I didn’t know exactly what I was heading into but I was sticking to the highway and had a host lined up to get me and drive me through the sketchier areas. As I walked out of town a group of older men called out to me. It was a group of veterans that were drinking their morning coffee outside a barber shop and they wanted to know what this crazy lady was doing. They heard my story and were acting like teenage boys joking and poking fun at one another. It sounded like they’d all grown up together and still helped get each other into small town mischief. They were a hoot to talk to and instantly my morning was wonderful! As I drew nearer my destination, my excitement level increased! My feet were soggy from the rain and wet grass but my spirit was not dampened. Right outside of Independence a guy called out to me as I exited a QuikTrip. He was excited to see an adventurer in the middle of the city. He told me he’d hitchhiked all over the country and followed the Grateful Dead on tour. He gave me insight on the Dead Kids, people that follow the Grateful Dead, in San Fransisco and Boulder and how to get help from them if I needed it. As I continued I simply laughed with joy. The Grateful Dead community has continuously been mentioned to me throughout my journey and the idea of reaching San Fransisco and finding them was amazing. It appeared I’d been following the bread crumbs of the legacy of the Grateful Dead. I reached the Truman Museum and explored the history of him, his family, and his presidency and then my host for the night, Dee, came to get me. Dee found out about me in two unexpected ways. First, she met Steve, friend biking across country, at a park and she had to find out what his adventure was and once he heard that she had hiked the Appalachian Trail he told her about mine. Dee then messaged me on my website and saw a post made by her friend Robin, the paddler that hosted me a few days before, about me. What an incredibly small world! Dee and her husband gave me a tour of Kansas City and showed me the amazing overlooks and World War I museum. What amazing people they are!

Boonville to Malta Bend

Notice: In an effort to continue blogging I have decided to temporarily skip to my most recent endeavors. Do not fret, the blogs pertaining to Indiana, Illinois, and Missouri will be written and shared. Those tales will be told, just at a later date. Please be patient. Right now, I’m enjoying my journey and actively working at staying present in the moments that pass me by. Thank you for sharing this adventure with me!

For seven weeks, I was surrounded by at least one other person on a 24 hour basis. I walked with Devon for five weeks, spent a week in St. Louis with my incredible friend Haley, and biked the Katy Trail with another amazing human, Steve, for a week. For seven weeks, I was not in the battle of life by myself. I could drop my guard and experience a different, broader style of living. I no longer had to consistently be strong and could rely on others to share the burdens of daily physical and emotional stress.

I found myself in Boonville, Missouri, knowing that the following morning I would separate from Steve, in the middle of no where, and continue on my path alone. I tried not to dwell on the fear of the unknown and instead, appreciate the present situation I was in. On our way to the nearby park we had planned to camp in, a man, Andy, hollered from his porch, “Where you going?” I wandered across the street to talk to him. His level of excitement was contagious and before I knew it he was offering to cook us dinner and give us a place to sleep. The offer was so sudden that Steve and I needed to mull it over. So, we continued with our plan to hike up to the park with the vista. There, the Missouri River traced its way through the land and the sun began to set. I told Steve that we needed to go back. My gut told me that Andy’s excitement was genuine and that it would mean the world to him for us to return. When we got back, Andy was still sitting on his porch and immediately called back to us, “I’m so glad you guys returned!” He showed us the house and apologized for the mess for he had recently moved in. Us being there reaffirmed his decision to move to Boonville. He knew he was close to the Katy Trail but he had no idea he now lived along the American Discovery Trail. We introduced him to, where we told him he could sign up as a host to help out any touring cyclists in the area. He was thrilled to learn all of this but upon meeting us he also regained hope. In his younger days he used his love for the outdoors to overcome his struggles in life but he’d lost sight of that. Suddenly, that love was being rekindled and the fact that strangers were willing to trust him rejuvenated his belief in himself. I’m continuously amazed by the impact just walking by has on people and to some extend I still don’t understand it. All I know is that I end up where I need to be.

Just as suddenly as the paths of Steve and me crossed, it was once again forking in different directions. Literally, there was a fork in the road. I was headed right by foot and Steve was headed left on his bicycle. It was a strange farewell because we both knew our paths would inevitably cross again but just like before, we wouldn’t be the same people we were. Thunderstorms were in the forecast but all I felt was the wind. The sun shined down through the clouds and the heat wore me. As I exited Boonville, people consistently offered me assistance. A trucker on the highway I was paralleled to parked on the shoulder and walked up to the road where I was. He offered me a ride and told me he already had a hitch-hiker going to Oregon. I declined but entertained the idea of being stuck in a semi-truck cab with two strangers for an extended period of time, to an unknown destination. Next, I rounded a corner to read about one of Lewis and Clark’s stops and an older gentleman fishing gave me his unwanted and untouched food from Hardee’s. I suddenly had a juicy ham sandwich and two apple pies and that just tickled me. As I continued further, I sat down in a patch of grass and a woman pulled over to the side of the road to ask if I was okay. “Are you walking on purpose?” She was confused but caring. My path then took me to isolated gravel roads instead of the highway and there I worried about heat exhaustion and water. After a while, I grew low on water (about one liter) and houses were few and far between. Any slight incline raised my body temperature and I’d have to rest in the shade to try to cool myself. The humidity was higher because of the nearby storms and I slowly fought the feeling of helplessness. I could see in the distance a few houses and increasingly grew upset with my decision to follow the ADT route verse sticking to the highway where people were. In the back of my mind though, I knew I was doing okay and wasn’t in danger. I just constantly had to keep my fear in check and listen to my body. Slow and steady was the way to go. I approached a house with a water spigot and knocked on the door but no one answered. Water was all I needed so I quickly moved to the spigot and helped myself. With water, I had a new found confidence and the road that I thought was never ending did end. I found myself at my campground destination and sat at a picnic table. I was the only one in the entire campground area and after an hour or so I decided to venture to the camp host to pay the camping fee and participate in a little bit of human interaction. When I came back, I once again just sat down. I needed to set up my tent but I was lost in thought and exhausted. I figured music would be a great motivator so I played Good Life by One Republic and unrolled my tent. As I sang/mumbled the words, tears involuntarily rolled down my face onto the tent mesh. The few tears turned into sobbing and then wailing. I sat down with my tent half pitched and released the mass of emotion. I was exhausted. I was lonely. I missed my friends. I missed the love. I felt I’d lost my direction and had forgotten how to walk solo. I feared the heat would consume me in the coming weeks and I knew a massive storm was moving in in a few days. I didn’t know where I’d find shelter. All I knew was how to keep moving.

I woke up mentally exhausted and failed to walk whole-heartedly. I meandered to the visiter center in the town of Arrow Rock (no, there aren’t rocks shaped like arrows but rather there was confusion in the translation of many arrow heads being made out of the rock there) and was greeted by some pretty excited park rangers. Everyone was friendly and they gave me maps of the town to check out the history of it all. I mosied to the edge of town and investigated the things I saw along the way but like I said, I was walking half-heartedly. As I began to hit the outskirts of town, an older gentleman started talking to me on the way to his mailbox. He went by the name of Phliprz (pronounced Flipper) and owned the Rokwgn. What is the Rokwgn?? Well, it is a 1956 Chevy that Philprz drives to rock concerts and has various rock bands sign. It is all part of his dream to share the power of music and so far over sixty bands have signed it. His stoke level for life was incredible and inspiring and he was telling me about his next adventure down to Rocklohoma with his son. I was moved by the passion he lived his life by. Before I left, he told me he’d send an angel with me and with that I said goodbye. The next town I went through consisted of a gas station that no longer sold gas. I normally would’ve walked past without a second thought but I figured I could use the bathroom, get a gatorade, and use wifi for a little bit. The store was called Hardeman’s and when I opened the door I was greeted with smiles and a hello. I moved straight towards the bathroom to avoid any staring that inevitably occurs when I walk into a building and there on the wall was the sentence, “Always believe something wonderful is about to happen.” With that, I began to try to bring a bit of spirit back into me. It spoke to me and when I went to pay for the gatorade the woman, Jackie, looked at me and asked if I was hungry. I softly replied, “I have tortillas and granola bars.” She kept looking at me and asked again except with “what do you want? It is on me,” tagged on the end. She brought me the special: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, and coleslaw. While I was enjoying that, a bicyclist, Richard, walked in and said to me, “You must be Amanda. I’ve been hearing all about you since Arrow Rock.” We sat and talked about our different adventures. He started in St. Louis and was headed to South Dakota before circling back around to finish in St. Louis. His method was to start at home and end at home. In the midst of all of this, Jackie told me that she was a mom and couldn’t even begin to imagine her daughters out in the world with no where to stay at night. She then decided she would take me home with her. It would be an hour or so before she got off work so I decided to walk in the mean time and she would pick me up on her way home. An hour went by and I expected her to pull up next to me at any moment but time continued to pass. Did I miss hear when she got off work? The sun felt like it was baking me and I wanted to rest in the shade but it was all off the beaten path. I refrained because I wanted to be easy to spot when Jackie drove by. As I walked on the gravel covered shoulder I began to feel discomfort in my right ankle and wondered if I had somehow slightly sprained it. I didn’t allow myself to worry about it too much and chalked it up to my leg muscles being too tight from the previous week of biking. Eventually, I did find a perfect resting spot and then Jackie appeared! She drove me to her home where I met her two daughters and husband and then she told me part of her story. She had grown up in the South Dallas area where the non-profit, Youth World, (the one that I’m partnered with) helps kids. She told me that if her parents hadn’t been wise enough to move the family out of that area then she could have been one of the kids that non-profit strives to help. After that, we both knew we had been placed in each other’s life for a reason. Her family was a hoot and it just overall felt right to be there. She told me too that it felt good to have my trust in her and that was a perspective I never considered.

I stayed another day with Jackie and her family. At first I didn’t know how to make the choice: to stay or go? The forecast predicted that there would be a hefty storm but something told me that it would miss the direct area I was in. In the morning, Jackie said to me, “It looks like you’re stuck here, there’s gonna be a large storm this afternoon,” and with that Jackie made the decision for me. Her daughters had adopted me as their hobo and that meant I was part of the family. The next morning, I left to embark on my journey once again and although it was sad to leave Jackie and her family it also felt good to keep moving. Not even an hour after I left, I had made a new friend. One of the yards that I passed had three dogs that came to say hello except one of them kept following me. There was a black lab, a chocolate lab, and a terrier. The chocolate lab decided he was going on an adventure! He just didn’t realize the extent of it. It isn’t uncommon for dogs to follow me but most of the time they return home or are stray. Before I knew it, this dog had followed me for ten miles and then fifteen! He was hilarious. Instead of walking along the road with me he’d swim through all the water in the ditches beside the road and when a car would near he’d hide in the tall grass before jumping out at it. He used his nose to smell out all the strange animals and found himself a raccoon to torment. He charged the raccoon and ran in circles around it while the raccoon swiped at him. I desperately tried to call him away and walk off but he wouldn’t follow. I didn’t want the dog or the raccoon to get hurt so I kept yelling at them until the dog grew tired. I slowly moved towards the two, now in a stand off, and grabbed the dogs scruff while using my trekking poles to keep the raccoon at bay. I tried to talk the raccoon into scurrying away but he wouldn’t budge so I decided to guide the dog away instead. It appeared that I had acquired a dog but I knew I couldn’t keep him. I saw he was drinking water when he needed it but I knew he was hungry. I gave him spam and a granola bar. That was all I could offer because I was headed into the middle of nowhere and had to keep tabs on my rations. I knew the owners must’ve been worried but how would I get him back home? Whenever I rested he’d lie next to me and at the first sign of continuing he’d leap up, excited for the adventure to continue. As the day went on, I knew he was getting tired but he kept pushing forward and would look back at me to make sure I was still walking. We passed a house that had three other labs and he disappeared among them. Next thing I heard, a man was talking to him. “Where’d you come from?” I popped up off the street and explained that he’d been following me for about 15 miles and I was trying to figure out a way to get the dog home. I knew the street the dog lived on so after a bit of contemplation the guy, Mark, agreed to drive the dog home and I tagged along to help point out the house. During the twenty minute car ride, the dog fell asleep in the back of the truck. Mark and I scoured the houses and finally saw the black lab that had accompanied the chocolate lab that morning. As Mark stopped the truck, a woman pulled over in her car and got out. It was the owner! The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. The dog’s name was Chewy and the woman had been looking for him the entire day. She was about to start making fliers but was relieved to have her baby returned. Mark drove me back and let me refill my water before I took off for the rest of the evening. There was nothing except farmland and empty roads out there but a certain peace filled me while gusts of wind passed me by. I found the Missouri River once again and I knew there would be some nice camping opportunities. Two men parked on the levee and I watched them disappear into the wooded area before they returned to their truck and left. I began scoping out the area and found a trail that they were using. What for? I did not know. I kept following it and discovered amazingly flat clearings that were perfect for my tent. However, I kept going and then discovered they had the same idea. I found both of their tents. I went deeper into the patch of woods and picked my spot for the night. I knew no one would disturb me there but I did not sleep well. I woke up in the middle of the night and heard sniffing around my tent. There was a patch of light shining through the foliage and my wild imagination thought it might be a flashlight, it wasn’t. All I could do was wait. Wait for something to discover me, wait for the darkness to consume me, wait for sleep to embrace me, or wait until the sun rose. Sleep finally embraced me and I woke to see the sun rise.

Elizabethtown to Hanover

Excitement filled me as I walked into Indiana. It was a fresh start to hold true to the American Discovery Trail. I didn’t want to reroute anymore and I wanted to find value in the nonsensical random twists and turns the trail took me through. As I walked through one of the suburbs near Lawrenceburg, two men were fixing a car on the side of the road and I got to talking to them. They told me that two girls were murdered the week before on the bike trail I was heading towards and the man had not been caught yet. I became concerned but the situation didn’t sound right. Regardless, I decided to play it safe and walk along highway 50. I worried about the heavy traffic and the high speed cars zooming past me but I figured the odds were in my favor. However, there was heavy construction and no where to walk, any side shoulder was decimated and there was barely enough room for the cars. I couldn’t walk that way. My only other option was to walk with traffic on the overpass but I had to get there first. I scrambled up a boulder field to reach the guard rail and then gracefully hopped over when there was a break in traffic. It wasn’t a huge shoulder but it would do. The sound of cars zooming past me didn’t terrify me like I thought it would but instead rose a certain excitement within me. I had a pep in my step and when I came across a Steak and Shake I knew I wanted a milkshake. A chocolate peanut butter shake at that! I walked on 50 until I got to the next town and then rejoined the ADT. I kept walking but made the mistake of resting too long. The day was chilly, consistently in the 30’s, and I was getting cold. My motivation for walking was lacking and I needed to find a warm place to sleep for the night, the temperature was going to drop to 13°F. I pulled out my phone and called one of the men, Daniel, that had been working on the car earlier. He had assured me he could find me a place to stay. He came and got me and took me to his ex-wife’s house but she ended up not being in town. He asked his neighbor and the fellow across the street but everyone said no. He then decided he could maybe find me a place in Elizabethtown, where I started in the morning, but after a quick phone call the answer was still no. Then it started to get a bit strange. Instead of trying to find me a place to stay for the night, I was now on a ride along journey. Daniel stopped at a few places and talked to people, and I was just there witnessing him run his errands for the day. By the time it started to get dark, Daniel told me he was all out of options. He didn’t have anywhere for me to go. I was a bit dumbfounded. I NEEDED shelter for the night. My 20°F sleeping bag was no match for the coming temperatures. I unwillingly told him he could drop me off at a trucker motel. Before I exited the vehicle, he looked at me and said, “Well, I’d help you out with the motel but I’m broke..” I was ready to leave the situation but I needed to confirm that he could come get me in the morning and drive me back to where he picked me up. He assured me he would get me in the morning. He hated people who didn’t keep their word so I was fairly confident he would be back to get me. Once I had wifi in the motel room I looked up the murder case Daniel had told me about. The only story I found that was similar was in Northern Indiana a month before, over a hundred miles from where I was. I was unable to find any information on a murder on the bike trail..

I gathered my things and sent a message to Daniel to let him know I was ready to be picked up. I believed him when he said he would keep his promise. However, after an hour of no response I knew I was on my own. I needed to find a ride or I’d have to rewalk the same path as the day before. Doing that would have been demoralizing so I forced myself to stop waiting for Daniel and walked into the front office to check out. As I began to open the office door, it opened. The front desk clerk had just ended his shift and was on his way home. I quickly asked if he knew where I could get a ride a few towns over and he said I could go with him. He was headed that way! I couldn’t believe my luck. I now only had to rewalk three miles. The town of Friendship was my destination for the evening. I had heard of the town but didn’t know much about it. Yet, I felt inclined to get there. My destination-oriented mind had me reroute on top of a ridge rather than following the scenic river road. As the evening neared, I walked into town straight towards the campground. The only problem was that no one was there. It felt strange being in a massive field with my solo tent and not knowing if or when someone was going to inquire what I was doing. I set my tent up under a tree and as I laid down for the night I heard a squirrel barking at my tent. It didn’t want me there. I opened my tent door and stared at it high above me in the tree. I wondered to myself if I could deter the squirrel away from me. I grabbed a cheap, hand held pepper spray a woman had given me and pushed the button. Nothing happened. Happy that I hadn’t actually needed it, I put it in my trash and continued to stare at the squirrel until it grew tired. When I could no longer bear the cold I cocooned myself in my sleeping bag.

I woke up with the sound of rain pittering and pattering on my tent. I tried to wait for a break in the rain but as soon as I started tearing my tent down it began again. My fingers numbed as I packed up the metal stakes and tent poles. I needed to get warm and try to get information about the weather so I adventured into the only general store in town. That’s where I was greeted by Amy. The first thing she asked me, with concern in her voice, was, “Are you alone?” I sat down at one of the tables and allowed myself to absorb the warmth around me. In a small town, a new face is a curious thing and all the regular customers were intrigued with my out of the ordinary presence. Amy came over to me and told me that she could find me a dry, warm place if I didn’t want to walk in the rain. I was extremely grateful! After a couple hours of conversation with Amy, her husband, son, and the other townsfolk, I disappeared in the little cabin I was going to stay in. As the room warmed up, I began to see shield bugs and lady bugs crawl out of the crevasses they’d been harboring in. I watched them explore their new world and wondered if at any second they’d lose their grip and fall from the ceiling. I wanted to read and work on my blog but sleep overtook me. When the general store closed, Amy and her husband, Scott, gave me a tour of the surrounding towns and took me out to eat so I could try the pork tenderloin Indiana was known for. Afterwards, Amy made sure we drove through the great town of Dewberry and their four-way stop sign. It was great because there was literally nothing else there! Scott and Amy enabled my hankering for ice cream while we were at a grocery store. I searched high and low for a small mint chocolate chip ice cream but there were only the larger tubs. I was about to grab a different type because it was a smaller tub but Scott and Amy just looked at me with smiles on their faces and said, “That one may be good but you WANT the mint chocolate chip.” I gave in to their persuasion and delighted myself with the minty chocolaty taste of the ice cream.

The next morning I walked over to the general store for breakfast before I headed out. The store buzzed with the morning gossip of a nearby car accident and right when Amy saw me she asked if I was staying. I knew she wanted me to but I felt an urgency to keep moving. It was finally time for me to leave and I could see Amy’s face was torn with worry. She grabbed me and hugged me. As I walked out of town I felt like I was leaving a part of me there. I knew I had found another forever family. The day was windy, cold, and gloomy but I did what I knew how to do and kept walking. I passed an amish house with two guys walking out and it sounded like they asked if I wanted a ride. Heck yea, I’d been trying to catch a ride in a horse and buggie! I’d worry about where it was going later. I stopped walking and waited at the edge of their property as the guys disappeared into the barn. A young woman, Bertha, then came out of the house and walked towards me. She conversed with me for a little bit but I saw that she was getting cold. Her two brothers rode out of the barn in their buggie past us and yelled, “You want a ride??” They made no attempt to stop but tauntingly said “C’mon.” I made zero moves to chase after the buggie but the idea and shock value would have been entertaining. Bertha invited me inside so that we both could get warm. Right before I entered the house she told me she had eight brothers and three sisters  and as soon as I walked through the doorway they were all staring at me. An overwhelming feeling began to fill me and even though I had a million questions to ask them I did not know how to ask any. Bertha did a great job facilitating conversation and filling the silence with questions but the uncomfortable silence pervailed. Her brothers slowly disappeared and four more girls from Kentucky arrived. I sat there confused as I listened to them occasionally speak pennsylvania dutch to each other. However, I was content being sheltered from the cold wind, if only briefly. One of the Kentucky girls boldly asked if she could try on my pack. I was enthused to share a small glimpse of the backpacking world with them. I exchanged addresses and promised to send them a letter once I got to the Pacific Coast. I continued walking through the country roads and when it was time to look for a place to sleep I wasn’t having a lot of luck. People either weren’t home, didn’t have a say so on the property, or had a guard dog. I kept walking however and arrived at a quaint home with a picnic table in their yard. I knocked on the door and a woman, Sarah, in a bright pink dress opened the door and exclaimed, “You’re hiking!” She was filled with joy and happily agreed to let me set up my tent while inviting me in for dinner. I started setting up my stuff and a man says, “Hello?” I turned around confused and saw that he was confused. I realized he must be Sarah’s husband, Joni, and hadn’t been inside to know who I was. When I went inside for dinner Joni told me they were mennonites, which I previously gathered from Sarah’s pink dress, and openly shared with me more of what that meant. They were intrigued with my journey and when they invited me to church the following morning, I agreed. I was concerned about not having nice clothes or not knowing the various songs/verses but Sarah reassured me the service was casual.

The morning was much colder than I’d expected and frost covered the tent. I hurriedly packed up my things so I could retreat to the warmth of the house. I went to church with Joni and Sarah and they reassured and guided me the entire time. Joni told me, “We’re all just common people,” and he was right. Sarah told me that the whole church was less than twenty people but I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. My unfamiliar face couldn’t be ignored and when I’m nervous a shyness erupts from me. I was getting worked up over nothing though because everyone was welcoming. The church service was similar to that of any church service except they didn’t currently have a pastor. Instead, members would take turns delivering the lesson/message and then discuss it. I felt the small town vibe and how their viewpoints demonstrated their heritage. There were comparisons with the jewish and amish faiths but the perspectives of an outsider, me, were unknown. I wanted to share my thoughts and ask questions but I didn’t feel like I was educated enough on the bible or the history surrounding it. One statement that did stand out to me however was, “There is opinion and then there is scripture and they don’t always match up. That is something that you have to come to terms with in your own life. ” I wondered too, how my gender, skin color, and religious orientation allowed me the opportunity to get to where I was in the first place. Afterwards, Joni and Sarah dropped me off at a Dollar General in Madison and I felt normal, except  normal was strange for me. I walked down to a pavilion next to the Ohio River to eat a sandwich Sarah had made for me. I happened to look to my right and I saw two people getting out of a vehicle except, I knew that vehicle! It was Scott and Amy. All I could do was laugh. Amy told me it was Scott’s idea to “go for a drive.” They knew roughly where I’d be but they didn’t know if they’d actually find me. I gave them both hugs before they left me, and I continued my walk to the next town. I found myself at a closed public library and sat at the picnic table out front. I hear the words, “You should savor every bite of your food because you never know when you’re going to have it,” as I munched on a granola bar. I turned around and a guy around my age walked towards me and sat across the picnic table. I looked at him and asked if he wanted a granola bar. Without answering, he began to fumble with his pockets and pulled out a set of head phones. He wanted to trade for the granola bar but I declined and gave it to him. He’d come to use the library wifi and although he was strange I could tell he had a good heart. He tried to tell me the roads I could walk to get to the surrounding towns and what ones were fastest. He didn’t understand why I’d walk the long way. He assured me I should take a different road; he knew they could be walked on because he frequently did it. As I continued on the ADT route I found a patch of woods that would be home for the night. I hid my tent behind a glob of vines and knew I’d have a peaceful night.




Jessup to Elizabethtown

After making a decision to walk backroads instead of the busy highway, I ended up 21 miles down the road knocking on the door of a trailer house. I saw a picnic table out front and figured it’d be a nice place to eat if I could set my tent up in the yard. The temperature was going to drop below twenty degrees and I knew I was going to have to deal with it. A woman with a radiant glow about her opened the door. She wanted to help me but it was her step-father’s home. She disappeared for a second and then came back with a man, her step-father. In the midst of telling me I could stay on the lawn, he offered the opportunity to stay in the guest room, inside where it was warm. Relief flooded over me. I walked in the door and the woman, Brandi, explained the plan for the evening. It was her and her step-father’s Friday night hangout and I was welcome to be there. They both shared their personal stories with me and I wondered why they opened up to a stranger. I wondered what my purpose was in meeting them and finally I came to a conclusion. I was there to listen. The step-father, Barry, told me to make myself at home and I knew he meant it. I offered to share homemade bologna and cheese that an amish family gave me but they didn’t want to take anything from my limited food supply. Instead, they told me to eat whatever was in the fridge and that later there would be pizza. I’m not sure if this is more of a reflection on me or the genuine welcome Brandi and Barry gave me but I went ahead and rummaged through the fridge and made myself a sandwich. I had just met these people but they didn’t feel like strangers. As always, the subject of safety popped into the conversation. Barry told me that he was glad I didn’t end up at any of the houses in town because some of the guys wouldn’t have hesitated to jump on me in the middle of the night. Although I appreciated his honesty and warning, it planted an unsettling seed in my mind. The seed of doubt. The seed of worry. The seed of fear. I knew I’d have a restless night.

A seventeen mile day with six miles of highway walking was mindless. The highway was well shouldered but the area around me was exposed and surrounded by chain link fences, I was pinned in. After the first mile, I developed the sensation that I had to pee. However, my options were limited. I could A) pee on the side of the highway and hope no one called the cops or B) keep trying to hold it and possibly pee myself. The distance to the next bathroom was about 5 miles, meaning roughly two hours via walking. I held my bladder and continuesly scanned the horizon for the sweet, golden arches of a McDonald’s. I was battling with the needs of my body. I needed to keep walking because I had to pee but my knees felt as if they’d give out (hours of walking with asphalt below my feet was taking its toll). My stomach tore at my insides, trying to find a source of energy. I had eaten my last granola bar. However, I kept going and I made it to the McDonald’s. I ignored the stares people gave me and went to relieve myself. What a glorious feeling. Next, I stood in front of the overstimulating menu screen. I needed food but just when I thought I knew what I wanted the screen changed and I became distracted by other menu items. After all was said and done, I ended up with 2 McChickens, 2 cheeseburgers, 2 McMuffins, 2 cookies, and an M&M mcflurry. I ate everything except a cheeseburger and McMuffin. I told myself that would be dinner as I walked to a nearby hotel. It was time to rest.

The hotel’s complimentary breakfast talk surrounded me and my walk. The daughter of the guy at the front desk was fascinated by what I was doing. She was middle school aged and asked me a wider variety of questions than the normal ones. It was refreshing. I was able to think critically instead of tapping into my rehearsed answers. She then began asking me about other subjects like college. This was one of the moments where I remembered the grand opportunity of inspiration my walk had allowed me. I realized that I was acting as a role-model and I wanted to be a good one, if only for a few minutes. A man and a woman sat at the table next to me and they had their own questions. The man was baffled at what I was doing. His facial expressions told me he was struggling to wrap his mind around what I was doing. The world he knew was not suitable for walking. He briefly shared with me a story of his: a coworker took him home to West Virginia to meet the family. The whole family was in an excited ruckus to have a black man in the house and the coworker told him that he wasn’t taught to hate black people but that none of them were worth getting to know. That was why it was such a big deal. The coworker decided that the man in front of me was worth getting to know. Now, the story occurred quite a few years back but I found that thought process intriguing and it allowed me to grasp another viewpoint on the world. My time came to leave the hotel and I neared Cincinnati. Approaching the big city was filling me with anxiety especially because people told me that I’d have to walk through the middle of the rough patches except they didn’t word it so gracefully. I walked through one of the suburbs and a guy pulled over next to me. He was around the same age as me and he told me that he just had to know what I was doing! He had just finished hiking The Camino in Spain and was intrigued to see a backpacker in the middle of the city. His excitement was contagious and I felt my energy level grow. Before he left he prayed for me and that was a happy reminder that I wasn’t alone. I kept walking until it started to snow. I sheltered in a nearby Inn where I roamed around in the medieval style waiting rooms. Thankfully, I had a host lined up for the night. Nikki, a friend of Devon’s, was on her way to get me. She took me home with her and introduced me to her son and husband. I loved witnessing the playful and loving family dynamics of their household.

Before Nikki dropped me off in Kentucky, she drove me through the sketchy parts of Cincinnati but along the way we stopped at an REI (outdoor equipment store) and Whole Foods. These both were familiar stores to me, ones that I visited frequently before I started my walk. It set me off into a spiral of confusion. These places were from another lifetime. Questions regarding my identity started to flow through my mind. Who am I? Who was I? Who am I going to be? My anxiety level sky-rocketed. I was dropped off in a park where the ADT travels through and there I met Janice. She had wanted to meet and interview me. I was obliged to answer her questions and to also hear her story. After the interview, she drove me down to Anderson Ferry so that I could cross back into Ohio. When we got to the ferry neither one of us knew exactly how it worked so we kept asking the only other pedestrian going across. Now having a clue but not really knowing what I was doing, I said goodbye to Janice and observed and copied the man’s actions. I followed him onto the ferry, waited next to him, and exited the same way he did. I was his shadow. I’m sure he was wondering what my deal was but he never said a word. As soon as I was off the ferry, I took off on my route. The area I was now in was still a bit concerning but not nearly as rough as some of the other areas. I walked and tried to find a spot to settle down for the night. I found an old foundation to a house and wrestled my way through the vines to get to the clearing. I thought it was perfect until I looked up and saw a man and his son walking in the woods. Not as peaceful as I’d thought so I kept going. I decided to call Nikki to see if she could come pick me up. We had already said our goodbyes and I felt like the effort to come get me would be a hassle. I didn’t feel comfortable in the area though and it was going to be another cold night. So, her and her family came to get me and along the way Nikki’s husband made sure we stopped to get Skyline chili, the food dish Cincinnati is known for. It was delicious. The only odd thing was the chili consisted of spaghetti noodles. Apparently, spaghetti noodles were cheaper and fed more family members back in the day rather than the traditional chili beans.

The next morning Nikki’s husband dropped me off in Elizabethtown. It was time to decide between the Northern and Southern route of the ADT and I already knew I was going south.

Vigo to Jessup

It is a funny thing how often people find me and ask if I’m on the ADT when I’m not. I rerouted around the dirt trails because of the rain and found myself talking to a man named Troy in the middle of the road. He was incredibly excited to find another hiker and reminisced about the last hiker he’d met. He told me he lived up the road and that he’d love to hear more of my stories if I had time to spare. He gave me brief directions on what house was his and drove off. His excitement was contagious and I was determined to find his house but experience told me that it never is as simple as it should be. I walked up the hill and looked around. He said he’d be waiting on the porch but all the porches were unoccupied. There was a fork in the road ahead of me and I vaguely remembered Troy’s directions. All I could remember was driveway on the left, green something.., and don’t go down the hill you’d normally go down. The road name changed if I went straight, which didn’t seem right, so I wandered down the hill on the right side of the fork. I didn’t see a familiar looking car so I went back up the hill and asked a man if he knew Troy. Nope. I couldn’t give up, I was too darn excited. I turned around and then walked straight at the left fork. The houses were further a part and I told myself if after I checked the first house on both sides of me and still had no luck then I’d turn around and keep walking my route. Still no luck. I turned around and started walking back, defeated, but then I saw Troy driving towards me. He came to rescue me from my misdirection! Through his windshield I could see him shaking his head and laughing. All I could say was that I was determined to find his house and needed to explore all my options. He wanted me to meet his family so he drove me back to his house, one house further down the hill than I’d walked, where I was greeted by a dog the size of a horse, a great dane/mastiff mix. I presented his kids with a riddle: if there are two fathers and two sons fishing and they each catch a fish, how are there only three fish?? Don’t worry, I won’t ruin the fun by telling you the answer. As the evening grew nearer, a thunderstorm rolled across the sky and it soon began to rain. Troy generously offered me a place to stay for the night and I was fortunate to evade the rain.

I was warned of the heroine epidemic of nearby towns and how the bigger city just 10 miles away had a large missing female population. Luckily, I wasn’t headed in that direction. I walked through the rain and avoided dirt trails. I saw no need to slip and slide in the mud trying to traverse a hill. I walked until dusk and decided to approach an older woman that had just arrived home. As I walked up the long driveway I called to her, “Excuse me, ma’am.” She couldn’t hear me. I called to her several more times before she finally turned around. I asked to camp in her yard but she looked distraught. She proceeded to tell me that the house was her son’s and she was only there to grab a few things before she went back to the hospital. Her son had just been in a car accident. My heart sank. I didn’t want to trouble her with anything extra but she said she thought it’d be alright. She’d try to let her son and his wife know I was there. Her only request was that I moved further away from the house and closer to the cemetery. Easily done. Before I walked toward the tree line, I told her I’d pray for her son. I saw her spirit raise slightly as she told me thank you and “that’s all we can do.” I pitched my tent next to a small wooded area, blocking the view of my tent from the road but leaving it exposed on the otherside. I prepared dinner and noticed a black SUV parked in the cemetery parking lot. I had an inkling that I’d get a visit from the police sooner rather than later. Next thing I knew, two police SUV’s were driving down the field toward my tent. I calmly got up from my things to greet them but also gave them distance. One of them asked for my identification and why I was walking. As I began to answer he smoothly turned on his body camera. My train of thought was lost and I became distracted with my thoughts of wondering what I sounded like on the video. After they deemed me harmless, the one told me that this situation was definitely not what he expected. His body language had became more friendly and open and he briefly told me a little bit about his journey purposefully being homeless in Arkansas for 2 months. I had so many questions to ask him but he had no time for conversations. The rest of the night I wasn’t bothered by anyone but I could see car headlights driving through the cemetery and knew they were investigating me. I felt bad because I knew the police were continuously being called about me and I didn’t want to waste their time or energy.

My tent was soaking wet. All the rain had froze during the night and the beautiful, sunny morning was melting it. I decided to check my route once more before I left and I had a new idea. Instead of walking to the next town the ADT would take me through, I looked at a direct route to Sinking Springs. I had grown frustrated with the Buckeye Trail shenanigans and random loops so when Google maps showed it was 26 miles, I didn’t think twice. The first thing that popped into my head was, “I can do that.” So, I started walking and for roughly eight and a half hours I dodged cars, fought the wind, and kept moving. I’d plop on the ground to rest and note my dehydration. I knew that once I got to my destination I could take care of my needs. With a limp on my right side, from the continuous uneven walking on pavement, I walked into town to the dollar store to resupply. I could pee, hydrate, resupply, and ask for a location to set up my tent. The women at the counter were lively and welcoming. When I paid, I inquired about a place to camp and the man behind me in line said I could set up in his yard. Problem solved. The man was rough looking but I wasn’t concerned. I’d observed his interactions with the women that worked there and they seemed to know him. The women were around my age and they were joking with him and seemed perfectly at ease with the idea of me setting up on his lawn. With that, I waited until he paid to introduce myself to him. His name was Donny. He drove us about a mile out of town where he introduced me to his cats and dogs and told me I could set up anywhere on the property. I wanted to watch the sunset so I chose the top of a small mound and got lost looking into the horizon. Donny had work to do so I only briefly got to talk to him but he gave me the low down on everything. There was an eighteen foot black snake that lived on the property that had been there before he moved there. It was harmless and probably wouldn’t adventure to where my tent was set up. He informed me that there was a neighboring woman in her 70’s that checked up on him and watched over his property. If I saw her in the morning, I should tell her that he knew I was there. Then, he told me he was proud of what I was doing. It felt good to hear that. I wanted to learn more about his story but as I said before, he had work to do. I went back to my mound and listened to the birds and felt the sun’s warmth on my skin. I went to sleep excited for a relaxing, peaceful morning.

“Who’s in there?!” were the confrontational words I woke up to at 7am. I was confused and disoriented. That wasn’t Donny’s voice, he had already gone to work. I then remembered the older woman he’d mentioned, his “guardian angel.” I told her Donny knew I was there and she went off on a thousand accusatory questions. “How do you know Donny?” “And he was just okay letting a random person on his lawn?” She immediately let me know I wasn’t welcome, the complete opposite thing Donny had told me the night before. She yelled at me that she was going to inform the sheriff and that I needed to be gone. The only thing I could muster up, in a pleading tone, to say was “Please talk to Donny first.” I heard a truck engine start and drive off. I sat there in my tent, crying, while beginning to pack up my things. The whole interaction had occurred while I was in my tent. I never unzipped the rain fly and the woman knew nothing about me, only my voice. I was grateful however that she knew not to cross the boundary of touching my property, my livelihood, my home. I was upset and angry. I had permission to be there, I was welcomed, and Donny was proud of my journey. Yet, my existence infuriated her. I sat outside my tent and made breakfast. Obstinance grew within me. I would take as long as I needed to to get ready. A truck drove back on to the property and parked. Another truck pulled into the driveway and a man got out to talk to the woman. They talked for a few minutes and then the man left and she walked back over to me. I tried to hide that I’d been crying. I had to be strong because I knew more verbal abuse was coming. As she walked onto my mound I told her, “Good morning.” She ignored me and immediately said, “You think this is cute? You want everyone to notice what you’re doing? Because they are and it isn’t cute.” I tried to defend myself in the beginning but I knew she was set in her opinions so I simply responded with, “Okay.” A part of me wanted to push her buttons and make her more livid but I opted to not be reactive and to try to be kind to her. She tried to take blows at me from every direction and it seemed she couldn’t decide what she wanted to insult: the nomadic lifestyle or the fact that a woman was doing it. “I know people like you.” “Some of us work for a living.” Before she left for the second time, she made sure to tell me that she’d notified the sheriff and warned me “to not go back that way,” as she pointed to the acreage that Donny said he didn’t care if I went on. With one final statement, “I’ll be watching you,” she jumped back in her truck and drove away. As I continued to pack my things she reappeared in her truck and sat and waited. Watching me. As I left the property, I waved goodbye to her as she stared at me through the rearview mirror. I was upset and felt drained. The people in town were kind and I wouldn’t let the livid, old woman ruin my perception of that. I knew her heart was in the right place; it just wasn’t on my side. Despite the evening, I was eager to get to the Serpent Mound (one of the major, historical mounds). I had been walking for over a week with this one destination in mind yet when I got there I was disappointed. I walked the lap around the mound and climbed the watch tower but the visitor center was closed along with all the information about the mound. I did what I knew how to do and I kept walking. I decided to skip a hundred mile loop of the Buckeye Trail and head straight for Batavia. I was low spirited and hurting but I kept walking. As I walked down a back road, a family said they saw me walking earlier and asked if I’d like to join them for lunch. Heck yea! Bean and ham soup with corn bread. Pat and Bill lived at the house and they had family visiting them. I got to see the joyous interactions surrounding the baby and I realized that the love around me was helping to rejuvenate me. Bill brought out his county maps and began brainstorming what route he thought was best to take. Even though I had my route planned, I embraced the joy that he received from looking at the maps. He reminded me of Papa Smurf and when we all went to bed he yelled to the entire household goodnight. He said it individually to each family member: his wife, the dog, the cat, and then there was my name. “Goodnight, Amanda.”

Belpre to Old Man’s Cave

My first day in Ohio was filled with massive clouds in the sky accompanied by a chilly wind. My feet were experiencing strange sensations from my new shoes. After walking only three miles I’d have to stop and rest. My toes on my right foot were experiencing a burning, tingling numbness and occasionally would send pain up the side of my leg. The only thing I could think of that would be causing that would be my feet adjusting to the new shoes. I took frequent rests and allowed myself to take my time. My first interaction with anyone was with two guys in a truck. As they drove by they slowed and asked if I was “hiking that trail?” and proceeded to offer me pizza. Pizza sounded pretty darn good so I said “Yea!” They pulled over on the side of the street and as I approached the truck I see pizza crust flinging out the window. “Uh, is this some kind of sick joke?” I thought. Thankfully it wasn’t and when I neared the window I saw a pizza box filled with four greasy pepperoni slices. I took one and started eating it. Between telling them my story and my hands being numbed by the cold wind, the pizza disappeared slowly. They told me I could have the rest of it and although I didn’t want to take all their pizza they told me they were just going to throw it away. I couldn’t have that. We came up with the innovative pizza sandwich to make my eating more efficient and they kindly waited on the side of the road with me. They didn’t want me to look strange eating and walking with a box of pizza. The funny part was while they sat, parked, on the side of the road people kept stopping to ask if they were okay or if they needed any help, including a police officer. On the other hand, these very same people disregarded me as I walked along the road.

The man that let me camp in his yard came out to check that I survived the below freezing night. He brought me hot tea and sat with me in the frigid weather while I finished my breakfast, my concoction of oatmeal. He saw me putting away my uncleaned pot and offered to wash it WITH soap. Then, he asked if I wanted to come inside to warm up next to his wood burning stove. Heck yea! So, instead of taking off and walking immediately, I talked with him and learned about his life. He did warn me about the coming area. “I’m not racist but it has a high mulatto population.” I’d never heard anyone use the term “mulatto” before but I could guess. I appreciated his warning and concern but I now held a preconceived idea of the area and was a bit nervous. Once the weather slightly warmed, I was off walking again. I had the same problem with my feet as I did the day before but this time I thought outside the box. I removed the insoles in both shoes and felt instant relief. To my understanding, the insoles may have been troubling my already high arches or taking up too much room in the shoe. Either way, I was grateful for the relief. As the day went by, I started up a hill a few miles outside the town I was warned about, Chesterhill, and saw a truck sitting at the top of the hill with a man in it. As I’m about halfway up the hill, the truck started down the hill and the man waves rather excitedly to me as he passes. I did my normal friendly wave back and about a minute later the truck reversed to talk to me. “You’re cute, what are you doing?” Between his strange driving, my warning about mulattoes, and the first words that came out of his mouth, I was annoyed and defensive. “I know you have a man, where he at?” he asked with a wink. I agreed with him and told him, “He’s around,” as I waited for the first break in questions. As soon as it came, I told him to “Have a good day,” and started walking before he could respond. I needed to find a place to sleep for the night but I was hesitant to knock on anyone’s door. Instead, I found a wooded area hidden from the road. As I sat in the woods, watching the woods and surveying the environment around me, I saw a herd of deer. I watched them graze peacefully until I heard a hunter’s deer call across the woods. Suddenly, I was filled with more unsettling thoughts. “Am I in the crossfire?” “Am I going to see a deer shot in front of me?” “What if the hunters discover I’m here alone?” The fear of getting shot outweighed the fear of being discovered so I set up my tent with the bright yellow rain tarp. The deer disappeared and I made dinner while the deer call continued into the night.

I got an early start to the day because I had to make it to the post office in town to pick up a gear package and then have enough time to mail a package out. It was dreary and rainy so I skipped breakfast and snacked on a granola bar. When I neared town, I met a woman, Krystal, on her morning walk. We talked a bit before she offered to walk back into town with me and show me where the post office and her house were. She wanted me to join her family for breakfast. I informed her that I would love to but I needed to pick up my package first. I thought about the mystery of chance as I picked up my package. On the one day I skipped breakfast, I met a woman who wanted to make breakfast for me in a town I was warned about (once I got into town the “mulatto” population was nonexistent). After I got my package, I met Krystal’s husband and her two little boys at their home. When breakfast was finished they were kind enough to offer me a place to stay for the night. The rain continued and appeared to make no effort to stop so I accepted their offer. I got the opportunity to learn about the Mennonite faith and to talk about my own faith in God. This was the first time I confidently told someone that I believed in God. In the evening, I went with Krystal and her family to an Amish farm to get eggs. I was excited to see an Amish farm and then to actually talk with them. They too were eager to learn about my walk across the country and before I left they gave me cookies for the road. I wondered though, how would they view one of their own daughters doing the same journey and would they be supportive?

Why do we do the things we do? I left Krystal and her family to walk in the rain. They had offered me to stay another night but I felt compelled to make progress despite the stormy weather. All was well until I noticed my phone stopped working. The screen had gotten damp in one of my saturated pockets and the screen consistently went blank. I sat down on the side of the road and looked at my trail directions, I’d missed a turn. Should I keep going straight or backtrack? I was now operating blind. In an effort to find shelter and resuscitate my phone, I backtracked to the nearest house which happened to have a cabin to rent out. I rented the cabin for a night and became panicked when I realized the severe consequences of my phone being out of commission. Should I get a ride into town? Where was the nearest cell phone repair store? Do I backtrack or go forward? If my phone didn’t revive itself, it was a game changer. The cabin I rented was cozy and heated yet lacked electricity. As night fell and the thunderstorm began, I sat in the darkness wondering “Why?” I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand why I left a loving family and ventured into the rain. I didn’t understand why my phone got damaged. I was afraid of losing communication with the outside world and I feared being alone. So, I sat in the darkness and asked, sobbing, “What am I suppose to do?” Suddenly, I had no direction.

After sheltering for a day and having my phone dry out, I started walking again. I had to walk the trails through the Burr Oak’s State Park and I worried about flooding. I approached one of the dirt trails and stared at the river of water. Was that the trail or a stream? I scoured the trees looking for the blue blazes that marked my path. Yep, they led me directly into the water. My determined spirit maneuvered carefully in the mud around the stream. I hoped the trail would gain elevation and escape from the water. I aimed for tiny patches of grass, trying to find solid ground beneath me, but only found quicksand-like mud. Twenty feet in on the “trail” and I saw the overflown river on my left and a newly formed marsh in front of me. My feet were soaked from unsuccessful attempts to continue. I knew my approach wasn’t going to work so I turned back. I had to reroute. Ironically, by rerouting, I decreased my mileage to my given destination, Murray City. The gravel roads resembled giant mud pits and I fought my way to dry ground. As I fought my way uphill a strange sunny, above freezing snow flurry started. I didn’t know what to think of the weather but continued to fight my way to Murray City. Once there, the general store I’d been hoping to resupply in was nonexistent so I meandered into the post office to find warmth. As I stood there, a man came in to mail a letter and I asked him if there was anywhere I could set my tent up. He didn’t hesitate to offer his lawn but I wanted to try to find warm shelter. The temperature was going to drop into the teens and I had no business sleeping outside with a twenty degree sleeping bag. I walked across the street to an American Legion. It was getting dark so when I gained permission to set up my tent on their property I did so quickly and then sheltered inside the building for warmth. I ate three sloppy joes and a chicken salad sandwich with french fries. While there, I talked with the locals and shared my story while listening to theirs. Everyone wanted to help me but most everyone disapproved of the journey. Eventually, a woman, Cheryl, offered me her couch. I was incredibly grateful and rushed outside to pack my tent up, now covered in snow.

Before I left Cheryl’s, I weighed my new pack for the first time: 35lbs! I decided to walk directly to Logan instead of taking three days to get there, thus going further rogue on the ADT in Ohio. Half way through the day, I found out that two people, Jamie and Jenny, I met in Texas at an REI Garage Sale (outdoor store having an awesome sale on used products) lived near Logan and would be able to pick me up that night! Talk about a small world! When I finally had wifi, I saw a facebook post from a woman saying that she was going to greet me with hot chocolate and blue berry muffins that morning but saw my tent was gone. It broke my heart reading that. I love meeting people and learning about their life and I felt she was robbed of that due to a miscommunication. I wasn’t gone, I had just been moved to the warmth of a couch. When I got into Logan, I plopped onto a picnic table, feet swollen, and waited for Jamie to pick me up. I was welcomed with such warmth and excitement! When we got back to her place I decided to take a full fledged bath. It must’ve been years since I prepared bath water for myself, my go-to is a shower, and I went all out and dumped epsom salt in there too. My body hurt. I breathed deeply as the warm water encompassed my body and I just laid there. I stared at the tiles on the bathroom wall and allowed my body to relax. The warm water was welcomed after a day of being exposed to the cold yet breathing in the warm air was creating a sense of anxiety. It felt heavy to breath so after a short while I exited and exposed my body once again to the cool air. I put on sweats that Jamie let me borrow and for the first time in a while, I felt like a normal person.

The forecasted weather was a beautiful, sunny day amidst a week of rain. I decided to take advantage of the day by having Jamie drop me off and hike with me through Hocking Hills State Park. She would hike with me to see “Old Man’s Cave” but before that we both had to pee. I was excited to have a state park public bathroom to use but when I walked into the door it was locked. I was disappointed but I still had to pee. I decided that I’d go next to the trail but had to try my luck at finding a time window where other people wouldn’t discover me. Finally my window came and when I returned to where Jamie was we both watched a man walk out of the women’s bathroom. We stared at each other and she started cracking up, “I bet it is unlocked now, they must’ve just finished cleaning it.” She giggled and ran to try the now unlocked door and laughed at me as she went to relieve herself . My pee luck is terrible. Now, with bladders empty, followed the trail to Old Man’s Cave. Icicles hung from the ledges above and rock cliffs surrounded us. This was what my soul needed. I couldn’t help but see potential climbing routes along the cliffs as we followed the trail. Some how we went from one trail head to another without seeing Old Man’s Cave. That was until we realized we were already there. Jamie’s quote of the day was “Sometimes the destination is within the journey.” It was time for Jamie to leave me in the middle of the woods. It was amazing spending time with her and Jenny because their enthusiasm for life was contagious and I now was able to take some of that enthusiasm with me. I went on to visit Ash Cave where I met a woman from Switzerland hiking barefoot! I had to start talking to her! I love the idea of hiking barefoot and was even more amazed that she was doing it in cold, slushy weather. Her feet were red from blood flow and they maintained a temperature homeostasis. I was baffled because I didn’t think my feet would ever be able to sustain themselves in the cold weather. She had finished the St. James Pilgrimage in France and does ultralight backpacking trips regularly. In fact, she had heard about the American Discovery Trail for the first time the day before and proceeded to tell me that meeting me was the highlight of her hike for the day! The encounter was heart-warming and motivating. Soon, very soon, maybe I’ll be a barefoot hiker.

Sun Valley to Parkersburg

Seventy miles on the North Bend Rail Trail were ahead of me. It was the last stretch before I would cross into Ohio on the Parkersburg-Belpre bridge. I hoped the rail trail would be more stimulating than the monotony I experienced on the tow path in Maryland. I had been in contact with the West Virginia coordinator, Sharon, and she told me she could host me for the night. I just had to get there. The trail passed through old tunnels that eerily made the hair rise on the back of my neck. As I appoached the tunnel, I could see the light from the other end shine into the darkness. My curiosity got the best of me and I wandered into the darkness without a light. I knew my visibility would decrease as I got further into the tunnel but I wanted to experience the sensation for myself. I attempted to avoid the puddles but inherently, I found them. As it got darker, my senses began to disassociate. I could hear my feet crushing the dirt below me with each step but my eyes told me that I wasn’t making any progress. The darkness gave me a strange floating sensation. Eventually I emerged into the warmer temperatures and began walking into one of the small towns along the trail. I checked my mileage. Six more miles until I’d reach the spot where Sharon could pick me up. I updated her on my progress while I had cell service and kept pushing forward. I was walking with purpose and eager to be on time to meet her. Along the way a trail angel, Greg, stopped and talked to me as I walked past his house. I enjoyed hearing a little bit about his story and meeting his fluffy, orange cat but I soon realized that I’d be late meeting Sharon. In an effort make up time, I was power walking down the trail. The trekking poles moved swiftly next to me, my feet pushed off from the dirt below, and sweat dripped down my face. I was moving with such intensity driven focus that I didn’t notice when Sharon bypassed some of the trail to get me. She yelled my name from the road but between the wind and my focused mind it was hopeless. I kept trucking along and moved past her. I finally made it to the meet point and apologized for being late but she was still laughing about trying to get my attention further back. My feet were achy and my body sore so I was overjoyed to have a place to rest and to add icing to the cake, Sharon offered me the opportunity to slack pack the following day.

Cereal was on the menu for breakfast and Sharon was apologetic about it. However, each bite of the crunchy granola clusters and fresh cut strawberries intrigued my taste buds. I hadn’t had cereal in months and the simple familiarity and the delicious crunchy texture were everything I needed but didn’t know I was missing. I had a twenty mile day ahead of me and energy was surging through me. It was a chilly morning and I felt like running. No pack and Julie’s light weight shoes on my feet, I wouldn’t have another opportunity to comfortably run for a while. I took off at a slow jog that progressively got faster as I warmed up. My pace had gone from 3mph to 5mph and I could feel the blood pumping through my body. Soon, it would be too warm to run and my energy reserves wouldn’t be sufficient but for now everything was glorious! Near the old train depot in Pennsboro a man asked how far I was going. I didn’t have my pack with me so I knew it would sound odd to say I was walking across the country. Instead, I opened with “Well, it’s complicated.” I explained slack packing and why I didn’t have my pack and then the guy asks me if he can take a picture with me. I was surprised but honored. It was the first time a random person asked to take a picture with me. After completing the twenty miles for the day, Sharon picked me up. I always offer to help with cooking and cleaning to show my gratitude to the host but sometimes I need a little direction. Sharon told me I could mix the beans. I thought “mix the beans, easy enough.” She brought out brown sugar, maple syrup, onion, and peppers. The first task was to open the can of beans. She handed me a fancy can opener that creates cut-free edges and I starts going at it. “Then just squeeze it.” she directed me. I looked at the can of beans and saw how squeezing the can would allow the lid to pop off. Before Sharon could see what I was doing, I squeezed the can and the lid went flying into the air while flinging beans all over my arm. Sharon and I just started laughing. She did however take a mental note that I needed specific instructions moving forward.

Before my time with Sharon had ended I shared my notes with her on recommended trail improvements and she helped me find the closest shoe store ahead of me. Although the temporary shoes Julie had given me were great, I traded Sharon for a pair that had shoe laces. After I got off the rail trail I would have to road walk again and that meant slipping into ditches to avoid traffic. Julie’s shoes just wouldn’t stay on my feet on that terrain. So, the legacy of the sisterhood of the traveling shoes continued and Sharon would be taking them with her to Lake Tahoe! I said my goodbyes and then started down the trail only, I felt lethargic. Three and a half miles into walking, I decided to set up my tent. I felt like I was disappointing myself and others but then I decided to throw those expectations to the wind. This was going to be the day that I learned how to accept myself despite not meeting my expectations for myself. I didn’t know what was worse though, not living up to my own expectations or failing the expectations I perceived others to have.

The next town I went into was Cairo, pronounced “Care-o.” The original state coordinators for West Virginia had a shop there so I stopped inside, said hello, and signed their guest book. As I kept walking down the street, a man named Paul, store owner, started talking to me and introducing me to the other townfolk. His energy was contagious. Next door, the post office gave me a post marked envelope to mail them once I got to California. I realized then that not only was I going to have a family across the country but also penpals! I am definitely a believer in the magic of snail mail! One of the postmen was kind enough to buy me breakfast at the town diner and I endulged in an omelet and chocolate milk. As I ate, I thought about the mysteries of perfect timing. If I had kept walking the evening before, I would be having a very different experience. That, and then the magic of literally walking in other people’s shoes.

I finally would be walking into Parkersburg, the last town before I would walk into Ohio. I had a list of errands I needed to do but I didn’t know how to accomplish them all walking. Everything seemed so far apart and I was becoming overwhelmed thinking about it. It was a beautiful, sunny day but that actually created a few problems for me. The odd, 75°F weather was causing me to overheat in the clothes that I had, and I ran out of water four miles before I would be able to get into town. I eventually found a cafe/family restaurant and walked in there to cool down and refill my water. The stares started immediately as I walked in but I ignored them as I sat down at a table away from everyone else. I felt obligated to buy something if I was going to sit down so I ordered a scoop of moose tracks ice cream. I sat there searching on my Google maps, growing in frustration, and feeling more and more paralyzed. What to do? Where to go? A man, maybe the owner, walked into the room spraying air freshener and asked me, “Sweety, how long were you planning on staying because you’re stinking up the place.” I was caught off guard. I couldn’t smell myself. He proceeded to tell me that “it wasn’t my fault” and that I should “find someone to let me shower.” I clearly wasn’t wanted there so I left but that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I had made it through the entire state of West Virginia without crying and on my last day in the state, I broke down. Tears began to pour from my eyes as I walked along the highway. I didn’t really know where I was going but at least I was finally moving. The tears blurred my vision as I avoided the cars. I wondered if the passing cars could tell I was upset and if so, did they care? For the first time walking, I felt shame. I finally made the decision to get groceries at the Dollar General. As I walked into the store I had to numb myself from the stares and lack of acceptance. I had the trifecta of things people want to avoid: smelling, crying, and strange. Then again, maybe people weren’t treating me any different in the store and I just noticed it more because I was in a fragile state of mind. The next on my errand list were shoes. I had to walk 40 minutes to get to the nearest shoe store, “On the Run and Walk,” and on my way I passed a high school that was letting out for the day. It seemed like these teenagers were completely dumbfounded on how to react to me. I could feel their discomfort as they walked past me unwilling to acknowledge me. On the other spectrum, some of them held an unwavering stare even as I matched their eye contact. I was an anomaly. When I made it to the shoe store, I found the corner furthest from everyone to set my pack down and wait for assistance. A man named Dorsey gave me three pairs of shoes to try on that he thought would work best with my wide feet and high arch. I sat there and tried each of them on multiple times. My feet were swollen and sore from the walking that day and I was struggling to pick which I thought would make my feet feel best once they were rested. Dorsey helped me find the best shoe for me at the best price! Unfortunately, the pair was a bit hard on the eyes: neon yellow accented with purple. You could see them from outer space. They are literally out of this world. Fortunately, I wasn’t looking for style. I shared my journey with Dorsey while I figured out the shoes and he gave me some energy Gu’s for the walk. I was grateful for his help and his support towards my walk. My feet had been hurting incredibly and to finally feel like I had a decent pair of shoes was a relief. Next, I wanted to try to find some summer trail pants. Sharon had notified me that she had a contact point for me to help me run some of my errands and that is how I met Shane. Shane picked me up and drove me to Chickfila before we went to search for trail pants. I freaking love Chickfila and between the familiarity and the good food, I was feeling great. My spirits were slowly lifting and it worked out perfect that Shane had a stuffy nose. Even if I did smell bad, he couldn’t tell. From Chickfila we went to a farm store called Royal King to see if they had what I was looking for. They didn’t but I wasn’t too disappointed because I got to see baby chicks and ducklings. We tried one other place but weren’t successful. I had been planning to stay at one of the shelters at the Salvation Army but Shane was kind enough to offer me his couch to sleep on. The day started off rough but it did get better and by the evening, I was feeling human. Thank you Dorsey, Sharon, Shane, and the other people who were kind to me. No one knew I was having a hard day but you all made it better.