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October
1, 2000
T
Minus 12 hours and counting . . . .
Huey
and I went for an eight-mile walk (he in t-shirt and shorts, me with at
least 50 pounds on my back – what’s wrong with this picture?) to see
how Klondike and I handled the heat. WHEW! Is a
polite way to say it!
I
can’t believe it. After
years of dreaming, my dog and I take out first step out of Key West in the
morning. She sleeps
peacefully now and I finish last minute packing.
I
wonder where we will sleep tomorrow . . . .
October
2, 2000
The
Adventure has begun…
The
day started with over cast skies but by 10am the steady rain had moved in
from Tropical Storm Olivia. This is a good chance to see exactly where all
my leaks are.
An
old journalist pal of mine, Kip Blevin,
did a nice piece in the Key West Citizen on the trip, which
appeared this morning. It
seems that at least 90% of Key West has read the article because I’ve
been stopped a half a dozen times (and honked at by the other 85 percent),
on my way out of Key West, mostly with, “Hey, you’re that guy walking
to Alaska - I read about you in the paper!”
Sometimes it is followed by, “You’re nuts!”
But most of the time people seem deeply moved and encouraged by
what we’re doing. I’m not
sure I understand this yet but it is a wonderful feeling to know that what
Klondike and I are doing is meaning something to these people.
All
day people had been asking me if I had rain gear. Of course I do, but I didn’t want to get it out and wear it
in the oppressive heat - I’ve figured I would just walk in the rain and
dry out later. About 2:30 the
steady rain turned to a deluge -- the kind of deluge that slows traffic to
15 mph. I was fine but
Klondike kept looking up at me with this expression that said . . .
actually I can’t repeat what her expression said.
Shortly
thereafter I realized the fallacy in my thinking. As my boots began to fill with water I realized that I should
have at least put on my Gortex pants.
About another half mile down the road a red car splashed off of the
highway in front of me and a woman got out, wearing a rain coat, holding
an umbrella. She came up to
me and insisted that I take the umbrella and told me she was a teacher and
was going to have her students follow our adventure.
I tried to use the umbrella but the wind from passing trucks or
blowing off the ocean kept ripping it from my hands - now I know what Mary
Poppins must have felt like. I
am sure that it will work great to keep the sun off me when it comes out
again.
About
4 p.m. we stopped at a C-store for a break.
Moments after we stopped a fellow pulled up and walked over to us.
"Hey, man! How's the walk goin?"
I
recognized him as someone who had honked and waved at me several times
lately. I told him we were
doing fine and tried to ignore that his teeth made him look like a reject
from "Deliverance." He
said, "Hey, can I buy your dog a chicken leg?" I politely declined, so he grinned and disappeared in the
store. A few moments late a
came back out with a can of mustard covered sardines . . . one of my
favorites! He opened the can
and offered me a bite and said, "How 'bout this?
Can your dog have one?" I
said sure and all three of us stood under the awning and ate dead fish
covered in mustard.
"I
read about you this morning," he said, with another grin full of
crooked teeth. "Yep, I
get up at 5:30 every morning and read the paper while I take a
(BLEEP)...." I leaned up against the wall as I laughed nervously.
"Hey, maybe I can be one of the interesting people you write
about, huh?"
This
time he grinned but he had near perfect teeth.
In an instant he put his hand up to his mouth and put the crooked
teeth back in, flashed them at me again with a silly expression, and
headed for his car. All I
could think was, Only in Key West!
Due
to my heavy work schedule before we left, Klondike and I were unable to do
as much training as we would have liked.
Therefore, the first few weeks of this journey are going to be
grueling.
About
5:30 my 70-pound pack began to get the better of me and my feet and my
body went into full revolt mode. I
realized that I couldn’t make it much further today.
A few moments after that an angel, in the form of a gentleman named
Larry in a Toyota pick-up, stopped on the other side of the highway and
yelled across the traffic if we wanted a dry place to sleep and a warm
meal. All day I had been
turning down offers for rides so I pondered this offer - for about one
tenth of a second. Larry took
me back to his house and, on the way, sheepishly admitted that the only
thing he wanted was for me to autograph his newspaper.
He also said he had been watching me on and off all day and waiting
for evening to come to invite me to stay with him and his family.
With a grin he added, "If I didn't see you on the highway now
I would have started looking under bridges."
He
introduced me to his two sons, Jeff and Steven, and they chuckled as I
pulled my boots off on their porch and dumped what appeared to be at least
a half cup of water out of each boot.
A shower never felt so good!
As
we talked I noticed the words “Heat Moon” on the spine of a book that
was peeking out from under a piece of paper.
I grinned knowing it was a copy of William Least Heat-Moon’s
classic “Blue Highways," a copy of which I carried in my own pack
-- and was rereading. I asked
him about it and he told me that he had recently quit his job as a diesel
mechanic and had gone on his own driving adventure through the West and
was now trying to figure out what he wanted to do for a new career.
"But what I wanna know is why I didn't meet the kinds of
interesting people he did on his trip," he said, referring to Moon's
experiences in "Blue Highways."
"Maybe
you were supposed to have a more solitude adventure," was all I could
manage.
"Yeah,
I guess so," he concluded.
His
sons were in high school and it has been a long time since I have met boys
with such impeccable manners and politeness.
There wasn’t a moment that I didn’t feel like I was being
treated like a Very Special Guest. Sometimes
it was almost uncomfortable.
At
one point one of his sons prepared for Larry and I a burrito with chicken
he brought home from The Outback Steakhouse, where he works.
About half way through his burrito, Larry swallowed, wiped his
mouth and said, “You know, you should go after Outback as a sponsor -
because you’re on your own walk-about.” And he grinned around his next bite of burrito.
Tally
for the day:
At
least 500 horn honks
200
of which were accompanied by thumbs up out the windows.
1
postal worker with a big grin, thumbs up and a honk
15
dunkings from 18 wheelers (it’s
raining - a lot!)
10
waves and honks from girls in expensive cars
2
offers for rides
And
one older Cuban gentleman who spoke very broken English but understood, in
my very broken Spanish, that Klondike and I were on a grand adventure
October
3, 2000
After
a good long sleep, I awoke to massive amounts of pain shooting through
parts of my body that I didn’t even know I had.
I’m not talking about a little shoulder or backache, but rather a
mild inability to move. Eventually
I limped out (thank God for walls) into the kitchen to find pancakes
waiting for me and a good cup of coffee with just the right mixture of
cream and sugar - I like a little coffee with my cream and sugar.
Within an hour I bid Larry farewell and good luck on his new career
and Klondike and I stepped out into the rain once again.
Even
before we hit US 1, Klondike and I were stopped by a lady who said,
“You’re that guy in the newspaper!
My daughter saw you yesterday when she was coming home on the bus.
I just wanted to tell you good luck and be safe . . . you have a
beautiful dog.”
Out
on the highway the horn honkings and thumbs-up, punctuated with screamings
out windows, began again. Somehow
I had managed to dry out my heavy leather boots at Larry’s and was
intent on keeping them dry! Yep,
you guessed it; I was wearing my Gortex pants.
What a great weight loss program!
I
can’t explain the overwhelming sense of freedom and joy I have felt for
the last two days. I have
dreamed of these days almost non-stop for the last 5 years and it is
better than I had ever imagined. What
makes it so much better is the large amount of support I am getting from
the residents of Key West.
At
about 1 p.m., Klondike and I stopped in at a combination country
store/post office/bait and tackle store for a little lunch break.
As I was taking my gear off and getting Klondike some water I
noticed a green Jeep had pulled up with a gentleman inside who had passed
me several times already, honking and giving me the thumbs-up.
He got out of the car and somewhat timidly approached me and
stuffed a $20 bill in my shirt pocket, patted me on the shoulder saying,
“I really think what you’re doing is incredible.
Here’s something for you and your dog.”
Since
I was a child I was taught to politely decline such offers of generosity
as I had been receiving the last 2 days.
But after the gentleman stuffed that $20 bill in my pocket I
realized that in this particular case, it was now okay to accept such
gifts and to be thankful for them.
After
a light lunch of canned meat, orange juice, and sardines in Louisiana Hot
Sauce (half of which Klondike devoured) we headed back into the rain.
Another
couple of miles down the road two couples stopped in their car, ran across
the highway and asked if they could have their pictures taken with me.
Their leader, Chris, insisted on giving me another $20 bill and
asked if there was anything he could do to help.
Thank you, but no. We chatted for a moment and parted ways with waves.
Up
the road another four miles awaited a Boy Scout camp with a houseboat,
where I would stay for the night. (The
Pikes Peak Council Boy Scouts and the Florida Keys Boy Scouts have been
very supportive of the trip by arranging for me to stay at different camps
along the way.) About three
miles out of the camp my body started to go into revolt mode again.
Right about that time, two men pulled up in a Keys Cruiser (beat up
old car -- with or without windows) and one got out with a bag and walked
up to me. He gave me a
lopsided grin and said, “You’ve got a long road ahead of you,” and
shoved a cup of coffee into one of my hands and a bag into the other.
“Here’s some coffee and chicken for you, and a can of dog food
for your dog.” He patted me
on the shoulder and said, “Good luck," as his pal leaned out the
window and shouted, “Good luck!” too.
Klondike
and I trudged on in the rain and the pain in my body became overwhelming.
The last time I had felt this was when I had set the Guinness World
Record for pushups. I
wondered how Klondike was doing with her pack and kept talking to her and
encouraging her that we only had a few miles left.
Two
miles out of the camp another man pulled up and insisted on driving me to
my destination. This was the
third offer for a ride today. Even
though my body was screaming, I politely declined.
We had to make it these last two miles on our own. I knew that if I gave in and accepted a ride now we’d never
make it to Alaska. And
besides, there would be times in the future where we would have to take
rides.
Tonight,
Klondike and I dined on fried chicken, a glazed donut and a very large can
of Alpo in our dry houseboat.
Tally
for the day:
At
least 500 horn honks
20
dunkings from 18 wheelers (it’s
still raining - a lot!)
12
waves and honks from girls in expensive cars
1
offer for a ride to Marathon from a very pretty girl
2
offers from guys
1
offer for a shower, a hot meal, and a place to sleep or a ride to the camp
October
4, 2000
Heat
. . . .
Humidity
. . . .
Representative
numbers for both between 90 and 95.
I
am not sure I will ever be able to describe the places that my mind goes
when the heat and the humidity become overwhelming.
Klondike
and I can only make it two miles between breaks. Then after 30 minutes or so we are good to go.
Each
morning I wake up, or any time I take a break, my feet feel like someone
is holding a blowtorch to them. Sometime
it takes 15 minutes for the pain to ease, especially when I start walking.
Woke
up with a blister the size of Alaska on the ball of my left foot.
I am sure this won't be the last.
Thank God for moleskins!
On
a hot bridge in the middle of the day, a man slowed and handed me a bottle
of Aquafina! Another angel.
A
little further up the road a fellow pulled off and offered me a ride to
the next C-store, about a half-mile up the road.
There wasn't a shade tree in site, so I accepted.
His name was Terrance and he insisted on buying me lunch -- mustard
sardines and Saltine crackers! We
then talked about how much he had always wanted to hike the Appalachian Trail and how seeing Klondike and me had rekindled his dream.
About
6:30, as the sun hung low over the water, we entered the Big Pine key deer
refuge. Key deer are to the
deer species what a toy collie is to collies.
They look almost like full grown deer, but aren't even half their
size -- and this is the only place in the world they exist.
In
the evenings, if one is lucky, motorists will get a glimpse of these
incredible creatures. And we
were extremely lucky! Two of
them decided to come out and feed near the mangroves, in the grass by the
highway. Seeing them from a
car is one thing -- being able to be outside and near them, in their
environment, is another completely. I
am sure this will be one of my favorite memories.
A
little while later in the evening, as Klondike and I approached Bahia
Honda (bay ya-onda) bridge, I began to worry how we were going to get
across it as it was more than two miles long.
Then came the Seven Mile Bridge before Marathon.
We wouldn't reach them till early tomorrow, but they still
presented a problem.
Not
long after that, my dad pulled up and said I looked like I could use a
good steak dinner. He had
driven over an hour down the Keys hoping to find me, and I figured this
would be a good way to solve the bridge problem -- and get a good meal,
too!
It
was difficult as we drove over Seven Mile bridge, for I had dreamt of
walking that bridge for so long. But
now, in this heat, and considering that Klondike and I were only making
two miles before we had to take a break, it would just not be safe to
attempt it. In the miles
ahead I knew there would be many dangerous situations that we would not
have forewarning on, and I had no intention of doing something stupid when
I knew better. Walking the
bridge would have to wait.
A
steak dinner never tasted so good!
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