The End

On Saturday, August 21st, 2010, Raisin and I arrived in Corpus Christi, completing my circuit around the perimeter of Texas. With my sidetrips, I estimate I've walked around 3200 miles. Raisin must have made some records too breaking 1000 miles traveled, herself walking about 700 miles of the distance.

Several people accompanied us in the home stretch: my cousin Ted walked over 5 miles from Ennis Joslin in flip-flops, his dad Tony joined us about 3 miles out, and three neighbors, Tony, Alicia, and Nora, jumped on about 2 miles from home. Several other neighbors came out to the corner including a busload of children (or so it seemed), and my mother forced a big American flag into one of their hands (a flag of Texas may have been more appropriate, I don't know). Pictures were taken, smiles and handshakes flew, and then we retired to home.

Some surprising details: Mrs. Perez (Alicia) who had had some kind of internal surgery last year was the fastest walker (faster than me!) and was practically skipping. My uncle Tony, an athlete in his youth, overheated in the sun and had to cool off with ice water and a wet towel on his head. Ted got blisters from the flips. And Raisin, who had walked 100 miles in 4 days, had gone lame, so I had to carry her home.

At my parent's house, there were even more relatives and another neighbor, and we all sat down to eat some tamales my mother had made especially for the homecoming. (Actually, I slipped away and took a quick shower. I weighed just under 140!) An hour later, everyone was full and tired and went home to clean up and relax.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It's been two weeks now. I got sick some time around Laredo and was hoping that the Airborne I took from Becky Garcia would help me out. Nope. If anything, the whole thing lasted even longer. I walked with this chest infection for the better part of a month, and only today finished off a five-day antibiotic treatment. Ironically, my friend and doctor believes I've had walking pneumonia!

Perhaps as a result, I've found myself sleeping and goofing off. It's easy to fall head first into the ocean of the internet. I was late with my last syndicated column and still have one more Caller-Times column to write. Maybe I don't want this thing to end.

Raisin, on the other hand, has wiped her paws of the whole hike. Since finishing, I've taken her on two short walks, but she's acted suspicious and uncooperative the whole time, like we could hit the road any minute. She's a 14 lb dog, in general a little thing, and that last 125 miles really took it out of her. Raisin's doing great now, her disdain for walking replaced with a disdain for the bathroom and baths.

Have I learned anything from all of this? Am I a changed person? The answers to these questions will always be yes because there's no way to undo the past. Yes, I've learned a thing or two, tons of things actually, and yes, I've grown in the last year. But it doesn't end there. I expect my experiences to have a profound influence on the rest of my life. However, I could have said the same thing about elementary school, the Peace Corps, or my first girlfriend, whom I affectionately refer to as G-1.

Life builds on top of life. Any given experience exerts its influence both up and down in time, illuminating past events and making it easier for a person to navigate future ones (in theory, at any rate). My project, while unusual, is no different in this respect than any other ways in which people choose to spend their time.

On the other hand, perhaps the questions demand a little less philosophy and a little more straight talking. Though it goes against my general principle of avoiding the dissection of a life event, I will nonetheless list ten things that I've learned in the last year:

1) I shouldn't fear a homeless person any more or less than I do another person on the street.
2) There are more good people in this world than bad.
3) Walking on sand for more than an hour is a brutal way to treat feet.
4) There's a lot more in the Texas Panhandle than open space.
5) Visiting my dad's childhood friend was the best way to learn about my dad.
6) The value of a handwritten letter in the middle of nowhere is inestimable.
7) God is out there and right here.
8) 115 degrees is really hot.
9) A kindness to a stranger can be as simple as a conversation.
10) Texas is really big.

Take from that what you will.

As per me, I have several writing projects left which will keep me busy for a few weeks, and then... who knows. There's a bicycle in my future which - given my history with my legs and feet - is my parents' worst nightmare. I want to learn to speak and write Spanish, swim better, make a business teaching boardgames to families, and solidify a career in writing.

One at a time, though. First, the bike.

Until next time, travelers...

In the News & On the Road Again

I fractured my pinky toe in Texarkana. I didn't think it could slow me up by that much, but I was wrong. By the time I hit the third week of November, I realized I had to take some time off in order to pull the whole thing off.



I have been backpackless now for 42 full days. I've walked a bit, done toe exercises, taken it easy. I visited family and friends for three holidays in a row, and with the new year, I am stepping into a different and very heavy backpack.



I'm a little worried about my toe but more concerned with the arctic weather being pushed down into Texas. I have a lot of warm clothes and a nice Marmot down sleeping bag rated at -5 F. If it ever does get down that low, however, I might be squeezing out several one-word Tweetable Quotes.



In the meantime, here are a few articles that have been published in the Corpus Christi Caller-Times:


Galveston and the Bolivar Peninsula, A Year after Hurricane Ike

An Original Texas Survey Marker


Happy New Year 2010! I hope for everyone that it's a great year.

Until next time revellers...

The Start

It’s four in the morning, and I can’t sleep. Even my parents’ dog, Tweety, who has taken to sleeping on the floor in my room, has been up these last fifteen minutes, somehow tuned in to my anxiety.

. . .

Today, I’m starting the hike. From Corpus Christi, I’ll head northeast along the coast. I don’t know how far I’m going today or exactly where, but this doesn’t bother me.

. . .

My restlessness seems to have taken root in the overall unknown of the project. I can’t tell you how uncomfortable this is. I do take some solace that this general mode of life has existed with regularity for quite some time. But I stand on one side of a divide right now, tossing and turning in a comfortable bed; stepping over it will soon separate me from the life I’ve led.

. . .

On the Appalachian Trail, I had to hitchhike from time to time away from the trail along a busy road to get to a grocery store. Hitchhiking is no big deal along the A.T. because people have gotten used to seeing thru-hikers in their area. However, I still remember the first few moments of sticking out my thumb. It was a very humbling experience. I got rejected, as is the norm, for quite some time, and I felt stupid having my hand out there, secretly wishing there were an easier way. It’s the same feeling, the uncertainty of sticking out my thumb, that I’m having right now.

. . .

I’m reading a book my mom wrote for her children called Stories I Want to Tell You. In it, she recounts many of her mother’s and father’s stories of growing up and living in Texas, as well as several of her own. I’m thinking of one in particular in which my grandfather’s family put him on a train to Texas from Mexico City. He was wearing a nice suit, had some pocket change, but otherwise was unprepared for the country. In my grandfather’s later years, he referred to that trip as enormously stupid. He hadn’t known the language, nor anything of the country. Perhaps it is a common trepidation felt between travelers, no matter what the era, against an unknown vastness.

. . .

I want to try for another hour of sleep. I’ll be hiking the first few miles with my friend Darren, and I’d prefer to be awake and in good spirits when I do.

. . .

I have added a few photos to this post, things either one or both of us will pass in the first few miles. Enjoy! My favorite is the juxtaposition of the two signs. That just strikes me as too funny.

I don’t know when I’ll post again, but I’m hoping for sooner than later.

. . .

Until next time, faithful walkers…