Here’s a large percentage of the actual route I took when covering Florida. According to this map, the trip from Florida City, FL to Yulee, FL (where I was famously picked up by the police officer who didn’t want me to be eaten by the alligators spotted on US-1 that morning) covered 383 miles. Add the two remaining stops between Yulee and Billyville, GA (which Google Maps won’t allow me to do, as I’ve reached the ceiling on the number of stops it can process at one time) and we’re at 429 miles for the state of Florida.

So get your checkbooks ready, pledgers. Most of you owe the CDF at least $42.90.

No, that’s not a misprint on the headline there, but good eye, reader. I’m in Chicago, or “Chigaco,” as Jeanette and I have decided to call America’s second greatest city (HBO’s amazing new show, Tremé, has me convinced that New Orleans, even post-Katrina, is America’s greatest city. And screw New York) during our latest trip to the locale. We’ve decided to transpose the C and the G because we spied someone else doing the same at a service plaza in western Ohio.  Continue Reading »

Woo! Clip Art!

Hello on a gray Tuesday afternoon, reader. I’m already rediscovering just how many stressors can be placed on a guy’s time when he hasn’t officially and completely removed himself from the grid. Of course it’s wonderful to be home, but in at least a small way, I miss the simplicity of walk in the morning, write in the evening. So today, I’d like to take a look back at some of the things I’ll miss about life on the road, and award them accordingly.

Let’s get to it. Continue Reading »

I’m sorry to hit you with such a cliché title, reader, but there’s just no way around it. Wednesday was in fact the best day of my life. 

“Wednesday?” you might say. “What gives?” 

Yes, Wednesday. I’m afraid I’ve been lying to you, reader. Telling fibs. For more than a week, I’ve known that the actual date of my return would be Wednesday the 14th, not Thursday the 15th, as I’ve suggested on several occasions. The lie comes from a noble place, though, I promise. See, I wanted to surprise Jeanette… Continue Reading »

View Larger Map

I’ve seen much of this country. Having walked nearly 1,300 miles at this writing, I feel like that’s a fairly safe statement to make. And in that nearly 1,300 miles, I’ve set eyes on a great many beautiful things. But nothing, dear reader, is as beautiful as the sight of the map above. 27.6 miles to go. While there have been occasions in the past when I’ve covered such a distance in only one day, I think my legs would give out on me if I were to try such a thing again. So, tempting as it is to consider soldiering my way home as quickly as possible, I’d better commit in writing to two more walking days. Two more walking days it is, then, reader. Continue Reading »

BOOYAH!

Hello from bustling Morgantown, reader!  In my previous life, I would have never called Morgantown “bustling.” I would have found Morgantown (at least in its current student-less state) a little hickish and quaint. But that was my previous life. Now, having passed through many dozens of little blips on the map, it looks huge and teeming with life. Bustling.

Having walked more than 1,200 miles, I feel like I imagine a man might feel were he weary from war. I don’t remember where I read it – or maybe I heard it on the History Channel, back when said channel still discussed topics of history and not the trivial exploits of ax-wielding or ice-road-driving men – but I remember reading/hearing an account of what it was like to be a soldier returning home after World War II. To say that such a thing was eye-opening for an entire generation would be an understatement, and to compare the rigors of my walk in any true way to the horrors of that war would be, well, ridiculous. But what I can say is that more than ever before, I know the new-eyed feeling that those men reportedly felt. I believe I now know what it’s like to look on a once-familiar place as if a stranger, to find discomfort in things you used to find comforting. I sure hope I don’t feel that way when I get home. Continue Reading »

Jeanette will post this week, reader. It’s just going to have to wait for tomorrow after work. Adama went and crazied out her whole Tuesday evening (lots of wrist-chewing, garbage-raiding, and park-escaping, apparently), so she didn’t get a chance to finish up the blog set for yesterday. Feel free to hold your breath, though, because it’s coming.

Meanwhile, thanks to the holiday weekend (and general laziness), the things I intend to write about today are a little outdated. Today is, what, Wednesday? So I guess my story happened exactly one week ago, June 30th.

First, a little background. Picture Sean Penn. Now, picture Sean Penn at the age of 22. More specifically, picture a 22-year-old Sean Penn in the act of playing teenage burnout Jeff Spicoli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Here’s an actual picture, if you’re having trouble recalling the film. Okay. Now picture a random 41-year-old whitewater rafting guide with the good fortune of looking more like the 22-year-old Penn/Spicoli than does the real-live 49-year-old Sean Penn. Got him? Cool. Continue Reading »

Fear not, intrepid reader. Tuesdays with Jeanette will be making an appearance today; it’s just gonna have to wait until after working hours. Call it a holiday delay. The mail might be a little backed up, but Jeanette will indeed deliver. Meantime, in the spirit of West Virginia, don’ go ninjin’ nobody don’ need ninjin’.

Well, reader, the three-day weekend is upon us. If you’re an office reader, I’m sure I already missed you today. Here’s to hoping you have no reason this weekend to sit down in front of your computer to read this. I wish you great weather and better company. And remember, fireworks are explosives and are not to be trifled with. They are never, ever funny. Okay, sometimes they’re funny. And other times. Yeah, okay, still other times, too. Fine then. Fireworks are decidedly funny. Go nuts this weekend.

Me? I’ll be spending the weekend with my dad and stepmom, trying to cover the 72 miles between Summersville, WV and Weston, WV. 12 down, 60 to go. Wish us luck!