ergh

Update: Definite improvement overnight but still very painful. I think I'm going to stay one more day in the hotel to let it heal; I could probably push on as it is now, but it would keep my pace way down and I might just make it worse for the sake of only a few miles. It's probably a spur or one of those other weird mineral things that come with heavy exertion, dehydration, etc.

Woke up this morning with a crippling pain in my foot. Thought I might be able to walk/stretch it out, like the pains I get every morning, but no. If not improved by tomorrow morning I'll have to get it looked at and/or extend my stay here, as walking on with it as it is now is out of the question.

I hope it's not something that will require lengthy recovery, as I can't really afford to just live in a hotel for an extended period.

12 Miles...In the Rain...

All day, every day...feels good, so good...

Or so we used to sing in the Army. I knew it was a lie then, and I can reconfirm it now. But what does feel good is sitting on a bed, completely dry after a hot shower, with no weight on my feet.

Not much interesting to report from the last few days; it's just been a slog, racking up the miles, mostly along the side of the highway or very close to it. First hot and brutally humid, then rainy but blessedly cooler. A lot of the ground I've been covering has been long stretches of nothing, without resupply (most significantly water).

Met some lovely people from North Carolina...was it yesterday or the day before? riding their bikes along one of the above-mentioned deserted ways. We stopped for a nice chat right there in the middle of nowhere and they shared with me some of their water and snacks.

Also a very nice couple from Switzerland. They looked to be about 20 years apart, probably 50s and 30s, but you know, how you can just tell when a woman is really happily married? Like that newlywed glow. It's good to see. Anyway, I've gotten several opportunities to practice my German in campgrounds and whatnot. I've met Germans, Poles, Swiss, Finns, Czechs, Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, and probably more that I'm forgetting. Not many good pics either but here's an...

Iguana

Stupid Remarks

I'm not particularly sensitive to comments about my weight; I even make jokes about it myself. But I am getting pretty tired of it now. From a skeptical "are you in shape for that?" when discussing the trip with someone I thought was a friend before I left, to just about everybody I meet out here having to tell me how I'm going to lose weight (or whatever 'clever' way they phrase it), every Tom, Dick, and Harry has to put his two cents in.

Really? Am I overweight? Thanks for pointing it out, I hadn't noticed. It's not like it's pretty much the dominating feature of my life that I think about all the time because it negatively affects every aspect of my life. Oh, you think I'll lose weight out here doing this? Gee, I hadn't thought of that. I was just out here with this heavy-assed pack because I like punishing myself.

I know most of them don't mean to be assholes. It just gets old.

Seven Mile Bridge...Done!

Well, there is only one word for that...but I can't put it on my blog, so I'll settle for 'grueling'. Phew. It's Miller time.

Adventures Aren't All Riding Ponies in May Sunshine

Lest it seem that there's nothing to my little walk except strolling happily along sunlit beaches, let me share some of the other side of things:

New experiences: walking along the shoulder of a long, high bridge with interstate-speed traffic on one side and a plummet over a low barrier, into the ocean far below, on the other. Not recommended. Relieving one's self at the edge of a marsh known to be inhabited by crocodiles. One feels--exposed.

I spent a good part of the day a few days back huddled under a low bridge, sheltering from a sudden storm. It was...er...interesting crawling and climbing up under there with my pack on my back and my poncho dangling around my feet, trying to trip me up and send me tumbling down the steep embankment into the fast-moving channel below. I thought I might be spending the night there, and was going to post a picture for you, but it let up and I vacated the area.

The last few days have been pretty hard. Very few places to stop or to get refreshments, so I've been forced to go on (and on) seeking a place to sleep. A few of you know what it's like to ruckmarch until you absolutely know you can't go another step, then go on for several miles. Last night I was so exhasted that I was nauseous and delerious, and my feet currently have more moleskin than my skin.

No complaints, though. It's hard, but I love it. After all, adventure without hardship is just vacation.

 Key West Charlie, retired fireman and all-around good guy. Picture Bill Murray playing an old California stoner dude.

 Saltwater Marsh

 The rare and elusive Key Deer

 Well, maybe not so elusive.

 Gypsy Chickens

 Starfish

 I'm resting today

Tomorrow: Seven Mile Bridge. No shade, no water, no bathrooms, no place to stop and rest. And no separate path for bikers and hikers; just the shoulder.

Hey, it's morning!

The Keys are filled with feral chickens, reputedly a relic of Cuban cockfighting: they run loose everywhere and every morning...well you can guess.

I was sitting, listening to them this morning and thinking abiut how it sounds like they're saying, "Hey, it's morning!" and then another answers in the distance, "Hey, it's morning!" and how I wish I were that excited about anything at all. It's like every morning for them is the Second Coming...hey, there it is! I AM that excited about something!

More Serindipity

It's raining for the first time on my journey. Had to happen sooner or later. But I just happened, when it started, to be taking a break right next to one of the infrequent gazebos that stand along the Overseas Heritage Trail, so I'm waiting it out under shelter.

Also, some pics I took earlier today:

Shark Channel. Alas, no sharks.

Blue

Cheeseburger in Paradise

Stopped for tonight at Geiger Key Marina on; you guessed it: Geiger Key. Gorgeous place, great people, good food, cool music.. And I get to stay for free because they're full, but Clay who runs the place is letting me pitch my tent in a patch of grass by the parkin lot. I love how laid back people are here.

Jana

Patrick

Last night, from Boyd's Campground

Also broke through the wall today and into the exercise-induced endorphin rush commonly called 'runner's high'. Life is good. At the moment, anyway.

Day Two

The second day of anything strenuous is always the hardest. The first day's energy and excitement are spent, but you haven't started adjusting yet, and you're left with soreness and fatigue. It's then that you start getting those "What the ----- have I got myself into" thoughts. But this is when perseverence and courage are called for. I've been here before.

It's been a good first two days though. Serendipity has been with me; yesterday, I didn't have a plan for where to spend the night, the Navy lodge where I had first intended to sleep having been booked up. But, as I walked down US 1, a guy came running across the street to ask me what I was doing. Turns out he's a retired Army Ranger, and told me that the same base where I couldn't get into the lodge has a campground, and it costs $12 a night.

Next, as I was walking down the base road and thinking about how a mile or two out of the way seemed far more significant than it had sounded, the SPs stopped to hassle me about my machete. But instead of giving me a hard time, they ended up giving me a ride to the campground. It's not cheating, since it was out of my way anyhow.

Then, as I was checking in, two ladies were checking in too; one was retired Canadian Air Force, and had been told she could stsy there, but it turns out she couldn't. So I offered to have them as my guests, we ended up sharing a campsite, and they cooked me dinner, so I had a good meal and some company. Plus, I managed to catch another ride back out to the gate this morning.


Those who know me and my tendency to drive on in spite of the dictates of prudence and caution will be pleased to hear that I'm being smart this time: taking it as easy as possible, taking lots of breaks, and only going as far as it feels like my body can go without risking injury or exhaustion. I'm not worried about mileage at this stage; just letting my body adjust and getting into the swing of things. I'll start thinking about distance once I'm trail-hardened. Mainly, my hypoglycemia and chronic dehydration have to be watched carefully until they're overcome by fitness.

Also, thank God for beautiful weather so far.

One...

Southernmost Point

Key West Express

High- speed ferry from Ft. Myers to Key West.

Ginger. Doctor Ginger, actually; just finished her residency.

They Call Me...Bonk

I'm packing my gear in preparation to vacate the train; I put my foot on the step, grab the handhold, and boost myself up to reach the top bunk, where my gear is...and smack my head into it. Hard. So I probably get to start my journey with a concussion. Oh, well.

Some people think that I talk and don't follow through, but the truth is that it's always like this: something always goes wrong. My luck is just damned rotten, like I've lived under a cloud or a curse my whole life. I like to think that the devil hates me because he's jealous that I'm so awesome.

"It is love itself and not its responses or results that is the soul of life and its pleasures."

George MacDonald, The Cruel Painter

On Train Travel

So far, vastly preferable to flying. No fascist security. No bossy stewardesses.

On the first leg, I met a lovely young lady named Erin, and we talked literally nonstop all the way to DC. Not banal drivel either; interesting, intelligent conversation on a wide range of subjects. She used to be a musician,  but had to stop playing French horn after an accident required facial reconstructive surgery. Sad to have to give up what you love. But good conversation is one of life's better things.

For the main part of the ride, I got a mini sleeper. They treat you nice up here--I guess you'd call it second class. Cabin to myself, but I'll probably be wishing I had someone to talk to by the time the trip is over.

Washington

We had a delay on the way from Charlottesville to DC; someone had been hit by a train just ahead of us. Don't know why or how. Lord, have mercy upon him.

Arrived in the DC station to see this:

In case you're not seeing it that's a full wall ad for Al Jazeera. There's another on the floor.

I'm Sitting In a Railway Station

Just weighed my pack at the train station: turns out my estimate was a bit off. It's about 75 pounds. Feels the same as when I thought it was 50 though.

What Else I'm Carrying

The burden of my past: regret, sin, pain, disappointment, failure, abuse, despair, bitterness, anger, rejection, heartbreak. 

Not that I'm going to be miraculously perfect after I finish my journey: it's more that the whole thing is about letting go and leaving the past in the past, like Forrest Gump. Why the Ring? Well, I needed a symbol, and it occurred to me that, a) The Ring is the perfect symbol for the things in my own heart I'm letting go. I won't elaborate, because I'm leaving these things behind, not publishing them to give them new life. But also, it's that I discovered this book at around the same time that most of these things began to get hold of me, that is, in my late childhood/early adolescence. And the book itself has ever been a comfort and a refuge, like Rivendell, that I could turn to to escape the pain and despair of my circumstances, and a guide to light my way through the darkness, like the phial of Galadriel.

So, assuming that I succeed in my quest; that is, reaching the Cracks of Doom or, in my case, the Cliffs of Forillon, I'm going to cast the Ring into the abyss and turn away from the Darkness. And though I'll carry my scars forever, and sometimes they'll still pain and trouble me, I will live the rest of my life in hope and peace as best I can, in the Shire, waiting for that grey ship to carry me into the West.

What I'm Carrying

I know the question all the guys have been asking is, "what about your gear?" So here it is.

Rucksack, MOLLE (Modular Lightweight Load-carrying Equipment)

Bedroom 

Top - Stuff sack containing:
1) Tent, Individual Combat Shelter in Army parlance, commercial name Catoma Stealth,
2) Army issue Thermarest self-inflating sleeping pad
Bottom - Army Modular Sleep System in stuff sack
Left - Rain cover for rucksack

Kitchen

Clockwise - Water filter (Katadyn Base Camp), Canteen cup with cooking rest, Canteens, Optimus Svea stove with fuel bottle, funnel, primer pump, and three kinds of matches (regular, strike-anywhere, and hurricane), Army issue mess kit, US Army knife (like a Swiss Army knife, but...), Collapsible sink/bucket and dish soap/scrubber.

 Orienteering

Staff (yes, good old fashioned wood, with a metal spike at the end, and a rubber grommet to cover it on pavement), Compass, Ranger beads (for pace counting), and a waterproof bag with maps, and trail book.

 Emergency

First Aid and Survival kits. I put these together myself: the commercial ones never have the right stuff.

Survival Kit contents: space blanket, signal mirror, whistle, duct tape, 550 cord, magnesium firestarter, fishing/trapping kit with two weights of line, hooks, sinkers, floats, and snare wire, mini compass/thermometer, and, outside, a red bandana for signaling, slinging, or filtering water.

First Aid Kit contents: Carlysle bandage (Army-issue compression bandage), Celox/Quicklot, snake bite kit, self-adhesive stretch tape, various sizes of gauze pads, nonstick pads, and bandaids, medical tape, nitrile gloves, hand sanitizer wipes, alcohol pads, betadine swabs, scissors, syringe (for wound irrigation), Neosporin, Benadryl cream, Crazy Glue (for wound closure), Steri-strips, Tylenol, Motrin, Benadryl, Immodium, Visine

 Hygiene

Shaving kit with toiletries, TP, wipes, hand sanitizer, towel and washcloth, moleskin, vaseline (for chafing), foot powder, DEET, Stingkill, sunblock, Carmex

Maintenence 

Sharpener, solar battery charger with batteries, padded case, and waterproof Loksaks, 550 cord (or paracord), duct tape, sewing/repair kit, boot care kit (take care of your boots and they'll take care of your feet).

Leisure 

Notebook and pencil for writing, "The Grey Wolf" by George MacDonald, my pipe, with case, tobacco, tamper tool, and matches, ipod, waterproof/shockproof carrying case for my phone (which was being used to take the picture), and, er...for medicinal purposes.

Tools 

Glock entrenching tool (that's a shovel to you civilians), Gerber Gator machete (for brush, undergrowth, and perhaps gators or bears), Gerber LMF Infantry knife, Maglite LED (brighter than the old three-D-cell maglites, but not as good for a weapon), Leatherman

The Infamous CPAP machine, solar charger, and battery

Foul Weather Gear 

Army-issue fleece jacket, boonie hat, poncho, goretex gaiters, lightweight leather gloves and liners, cold-weather cap.

  Clothes

Clockwise - Moccassins (for camp), camp clothes (something dry to change into at the end of the day, and to sleep in if it's cool: plus an extra layer in case it gets really cold), extra t-shirt and boxers, silk long johns, extra bandana, handkerchief (never run out the door without a pocket-handkerchief), and an Army triangle bandage, which makes a great headscarf, neckerchief, or general-purpose rag, extra walking socks (Smartwool trekking socks, and silk liners: two layers prevents blisters), and a waterproof stuff sack to keep my clothes dry.

Cargo Vest

For convenience and weight-distribution. Plus wallet, watch, sunglasses, and a couple of the things that will go in the pockets.

 Food

Chicken and beef in foil packs, instant potato, noodle, and rice entrees, instant oatmeal, peanut butter (goes in the oatmeal to add fat and protein to breakfast), Cliff Bars, tea, beef jerky, raisins and peanuts, waterproof/odorproof OPsaks (to keep the critters from smelling my food), and a (reputedly) bear-proof Ursack to put it all in.

Drugs

My portable mini-pharmacy to keep me functioning despite my ailments. I carefully peeled the labels off the bottles and attached them to the mini-ziplocks with box tape. So that I get no hassles from nosy officials about carrying unlabled prescription drugs, some of which are quite liable to recreational use.

And here it is all packed up and ready to go, except for what will be worn or carried in the vest or on the belt. It's definitely not an ultra-light load (about 50 pounds), and I expect I'll get comments from obsessive ultra-lighters who weigh their matchsticks and saw the handles off their toothbrushes, But I like Army gear: I trust it, it's tested and proven, and surplus is significantly cheaper than brand-new commercial gear.