Still in St Clairsville

I've had another few days off and plan to start walking again tomorrow.

I actually retraced my steps by hitching back to Uniontown to see friends - a journey which had taken me six days on foot took only a few hours by car. It was like being in a movie that was speeded up and played in reverse, reminding me of what a distorted sense of time and distance walking gives you. But then, who's to say it's my perceptions that are distorted rather than those of the drivers flashing by at 55 mph?

Everyone says hitching isn't what it used to be, but I disagree. I've done it a few times on this trip: there have been two bridges that pedestrians aren't allowed to cross, a five-mile detour from my main route to visit Fallingwater, and now this. It still seems exactly the same as my first time in the US twenty-seven years ago, with the same infuriating but delightful unpredictability. All these drivers have in common is their willingness to help a stranger - one guy was a lawyer, the next a coal miner.

It's been a happy and relaxing time, and I'm learning to stop being obsessed with racking up fifteen miles a day, seven days a week. I'm also learning to overcome my traditional British reserve and starting conversations with strangers at every possible opportunity. Being American, they always respond positively and I've met some really interesting people as a result.