Chicago Beckons

We camped again last night, and I’m happy to report there were no unplanned trains or security spotlights to disturb the weary sleep of the pilgrims.  There was a brief incident with a GMC truck alarm from the camsight adjacent to us, but fortunately, the owner quickly resolved the mournful bleating of the truck’s horn in relatively short order. Turns out he didn’t even know he had an alarm, and he didn’t have the key fob to easily silence the racket, but all was resolved with only a few minutes of honking.

Kurt - Renaissance Man Bringing Marine Corps Discipline and Heart to Running The Last Resort in Hanna, Indiana

Apart from that, I cannot thank Kurt, the owner of The Last Resort Campground in Hanna, Indiana for his great  help in making our stay a pleasant and restful chance for recovery. Kurt is a Marine who just recently finished up eight years serving in peace and in combat.  He bought the sprawling and beautiful campground last October, and he’s basically a one man show. He keeps the grounds pristine, runs a recycling program, checks in guests, maintains the pool, and is just an all around good guy. This morning, he had coffee going at 5:30, and we spent about an hour swapping sea stories. It was just what the doctor ordered before returning to the road.

Some folks have strongly recommended that we liberally apply sunscreen.  Rest assured, we are well supplied. What we could really use right now is some wind and rain screen, but sadly, I believe it’s still under development.  In spite of the rain, we headed out into the unknown. After only about twelve miles, the clouds began to lift, and we once again began the process of trying to dry ourselves out.

At about the same time the rain stopped its soaking barrage, we began to see signs that the rural landscape was slowly yielding to its suburban cousin.  We landed in Valparaiso, IN at the end of a little less than fifteen miles. Dad remarked that “it’s a really clean city.”

He’s right.  It’s a clean little town with all of the luxury that one might expect of a well-to-do suburban domicile.  Target, DQ Grill and Chill, Qdoba, Barnes and Noble, and others are all a quick walk from our corporately endorsed hotel.  

It’s everything you could want in a town, but somehow I found myself missing the character of some of our more memorable stopping points. We’re still too far out from Chicago and Gary for the real urban grittiness to have kicked in yet. There is no street art or murals. The train tracks are placed well to the south so as not to disturb the suburban slumber of the commuting workforce.  There are no bodega’s where Dad can go in for a stocking cap and come out twenty five minutes later having made friends with the clerk and the Coca-Cola distributor making his rounds.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m grateful to be here. We made the short trip to Target and loaded up on cloth tape and liquid bandage to keep the blisters at bay.  The selection of shiny new merchandise was almost overwhelming, but I do miss the grittiness….the character and the character building that goes hand in hand with “Stealth Camping” and the trains that accompany those nights on the road.

Tomorrow is another day, and Chicago is beckoning.

Big Sky and One Meter Around Me

The rain from yesterday cleared out in the afternoon, and we were able to find what we thought was a primo “Stealth Camping” site at an undisclosed location in Walkerton, Indiana. We checked the surroundings for security lights.  That’s a mistake from the Duanesburg, NY airport that we didn’t want to repeat.

No lights.  No clear line of sight from any roads or parking lots.  Access to a convenience store and power outlets. Well drained grassy spot that would accommodate our tent. Check, check, check, check, and check. We set up the tent, and were just crawling in for a good night's sleep.

Dad in our train infested camping site - Walkerton, IN

Pro tip.  Always check your surroundings for an active railroad track that might be about twenty yards away from your campsite and hidden by a thick stand of trees.  Fortunately, not more than fifteen, but definitely not less than twelve trains passed through announcing their presence with a piercing shriek of their whistle followed by five or six minutes of metallic rumbling as they lumbered through the area.

The morning dawned bright and clear, and we headed west.  Today was almost all county roads. The traffic consisted of a couple of garbage trucks, an odd tractor or three, and a small handful of rural mail delivery cars.  The postwoman drove from the passenger seat, and I’ll tell you that I haven’t quite gotten used to seeing a minivan or a jeep headed my direction with apparently no one at the wheel.

Other than that, it was quiet.  The sun warmed our skin, and the breeze carried away our perspiration leaving a glorious cool sensation. The sky stretched overhead in a light blue dome from horizon to horizon.

Westbound county road - Indiana

The only distraction was the crunch of our feet in the gravel, the twitter of birds, the occasional irrigation pump, and the wind rustling the leaves of the trees. That last one always sounded to me like a driverless minivan delivering the post, so I spent a little time looking over my shoulder which is surprisingly difficult while walking with a pack.

Long story short, it the silence prevailed. The road arrowed westward, the blue sky arched overhead, and I was left with my thoughts.

These quiet times are when I realize the extent of my own internal chatter.  What were we thinking? What’s our destination going to be like? Will I run out of water three miles out and have to endure cotton mouth at the end of the day.  Then I catch myself and look at the sky and the road fading into the distance.

All is well right now.  In this moment, I’m good and safe and secure in this one square meter around me. Take the next step, and the rest will work itself out in the time that it’s needed. That’s the rhythm of the road and the message of the blue dome floored in greens and browns, broken by the occasional farmhouse or barn all around me.

One Thousand Miles

One Thousand Miles - 1:11 PM - Wednesday - 13 June 2019 - North Township, Marshall County, Indiana

This is what you might look like just after finishing one thousand miles on foot in seventy-three and a half days.  The last six hours were completed in a cold driving rain.

The best part was that we were only halfway through and had thirteen miles to go to get to our final stopping point for the evening.

Looking back, it's hard to imagine how far we've come.  On day one, we managed just a little over thirteen miles, and we were wrecked. I remember thinking, "There's no way this is going to work, but we can't just pack it in now. I wonder what tomorrow's gonna be like?"

That's been a theme. "I wonder what tomorrow's gonna be like?" Then, after (hopefully) a good night's sleep, we get up and walk. Some days have been harder than others, but I can tell you that I haven't been disappointed with any of them.  

It's good to have a milestone to serve as a reminder to look back on the past, but it's even better to ask, "I wonder what tomorrow's gonna be like?"  

Approaching the future with a sense of wonder and curiosity has been a great lesson over the last one thousand miles, and we hope that we have a few more left in our feet going forward.

Week 10

We're back on the road tomorrow, so hopefully this will be the last "cop out" post for a little bit.

This is the first two day rest period we've taken since leaving Rochester, NY, and though necessary to get a little rest and recovery, I'm  ready to get back on the road.

I completed a job interview, which was both a good experience and a stark reminder that the time on the trek is limited and precious.  I'm ready to get started again.

In the meantime, I'll leave you with another backward glance to week ten of the pilgrimage.  I hope the opportunity for pictures will greatly improve tomorrow.

https://goo.gl/maps/WLx5mRvfQJJ4aSGRA

   

Zero Progress

Nappanee, IN

Contrasts

I'm going to be straight with you.  Today was a hard day. It wasn't our longest day, but we clocked in twenty four miles, but it wasn't the distance.

The wind was out of the northwest at between fifteen and eighteen miles per hour, and it was relentless.  Not right in the face, but off the starboard quarter just enough that it did a pretty good job of pushing us around.  The traffic was also pretty heavy, and when a truck passed it was a little challenging to know where to lean.

You'd lean into the wind as it approached, try to shift back to upright when it was alongside, and then guess how the wake was going to combine with the wind as it blew past.  Neither of us was knocked over, but there were moments of choice words a number of times.

On the upside, neither of us had our hats blown off which is an improvement over previous wind rich days.  Also, the sun came out in the afternoon and dispensed with the sideways blowing mist that accompanied us through the morning.

Beauty and Dashed Dreams - US Highway 6 Near Nappanee, IN

I finally took an opportunity to snap a few photos.  I liked this one because of the contrasts.

The yellow wildflowers are growing in a corn field that hasn't been planted.  By this point in the growing season, corn is generally about knee high, but the small number of fields we've seen planted are either just germinating or quite a bit shorter than expected for this time of year.

These wildflowers represent the dashed hopes, dreams, and years of hard work by a farmer.  As the days pass, and the soil remains saturated due to the unusually we spring that has occurred all through the corn belt, these fields are less and less likely to produce a crop.  

Walking through mile after mile of unworked fields,  I feel a deep sadness for the folks that have bet their livelihood on bringing in a crop this year but are going to have to put off those hopes until next season. It's hard to imagine the resilience that it must take to deal with this kind of setback. Some won't recover, but those that do are going to have a tough time over the coming eighteen months.

It makes our little wind problem, which is predicted to be completely resolved tomorrow, seem like a minor annoyance in comparison. I'm deeply grateful for the perspective that the Universe has shared with me over the course of this pilgrimage.

Jay's Adjustments #2

Adjustments #2

My  last posting addressed adjustment in expectations.  This one is about more personal physiological adjustments
Adjustment to diet:  I have attempted maintain diet practices  that were targeted toward maintaining a level of health I find desirable and essential: a balance emphasizing calorie, protein, supplements, etc.  Relatively easy to do in the environment of normal living considering availability and ease of transportaion. Not so easy when you're limited to bi-pedal transportation moving at 2.3. mph, and the restricted availability of suitable foodstuffs in what are essentially gasoline convenience stores. It's easy to fall into a trap of unthinkingly eating what's readily available without considering the long term impact on health and fitness.  A proper, adequate diet remains a concern, to which I haven't found a structured, consistent approach. Every day presents a different diet scenario and every day's eating behavior has both short term and long term impact on what we're attempting. So, DIET ADJUSTMENT considerations.  What must I do to remain healthy and fit?  Not very glamorous, but essential to success in our effort.

In Honor of June

In Honor of June - Ligonier, IN

Walking and Social Media Rest Day (W&SMRD).

Today, I took a stroll through Ligonier, IN to visit over thirty murals that adorn this small Midwestern town.  This one caught my attention when I was thumbing through the shots.

In honor of the month of June, and the continued progress toward love and acceptance in our communities.  We're all in this together, and love conquers fear, in the long run, every time.