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.

Today, I walked a trail that was once a railroad – my second such trail of the trip. From what I understand, there’s an entire network of trails such as these spanning the country, but I’ll be damned if I can read the map. This brings me to something that’s been gnawing at me for a while: Why does the internet seem to lack a credible (and more importantly, free) resource for trail-routing? Why can’t I plug two cities into a mapping tool, click “find,” and be presented with the most logical and trail-heavy route? Sure, I can get walking directions on Google Maps, but that site depends on trails only when they’re absolutely necessary. I’m not saying I would’ve preferred trails to the roadside for the majority of this trip (I don’t regret my route for a second), but it might have been nice to have the option once in a while. Maybe this resource does exist and I’m just not internet savvy or knowledgeable enough to find it. Or maybe we’re looking at a hell of a business opportunity here, reader, you and me. What do you say we put together a business plan and start shopping around for seed money? Take the weekend to think about it.

Anyway, rail trails are indeed excellent walking grounds, especially in the Virginias, where things are proper hilly. Instead of hiking a long, twenty-two mile up and down today, I enjoyed a nice eighteen-miler over a flat trail padded with crushed limestone. Sure, I didn’t encounter as many weird people (unless you count the kinds of people who bike the trails every day as weird) or see even half the hilarious road signs I might have otherwise, but I tell you what I did see: plenty of scenic riverfront overlooks and variable forest land. It was peaceful. Earthy. Nice.

So here I am in Morgantown, right on the cusp of Pennsylvania. I’m sitting at a Buffalo Wild Wings as I type this, having enjoyed a four-pack of chicken tenders and a gigantic salad. It’s raining outside. And I’m clearly running out of steam on this blog post.

I will tell you this before I close for the week, reader: Despite the growing pain in my right Achilles, it feels better to be within a hundred miles of home than I ever would have guessed. I knew things would start to get all tender and wistful when I finally sniffed the finish line, but I never could have imagined this level of jubilation and pride. People (read, “Jeanette”) always told me that I was underestimating the scope of this walk. And you know what? I was. The day before I set out on this trip, it finally hit me that what I intended to do would require more determination than I probably possessed. But even as I embarked on the walk itself – even during those dark times in the Carolinas – I continued to underestimate what this trip would mean to me. I knew it would shape the book and I hoped it would help raise money for the Children’s Defense Fund, but I had no idea how much it would change me.

Now that I’ve set foot in a familiar place for the first time in months, I can see that my perspective on life has changed. We’ll see what that means to me in the end.