Summerford, Ohio. 581 miles.
I enjoyed a rare taste of freedom yesterday. Pete Yoder, whose hospitality I'm enjoying at the moment, ferried my backpack here in his car, allowing me to walk for half a day with nothing to carry for the first time. It was a real treat. I don't mind my pack, but it weighs 40 pounds and sometimes, especially towards the end of the day, it can be a real burden as I constantly shift it around in an attempt to get comfortable.
I was in a bookshop the other day reading a book on ultra-lightweight camping, and it had a whole chapter on how to reduce your pack weight to 5 pounds. That's the kind of thing I can only dream of. I'm usually good at travelling light, and I constantly review the contents of my luggage (a couple of days ago, my 700-page guidebook was consigned to the bin because it's mainly about big cities, and this trip is mainly about small towns), but I really feel I need all the stuff I have.
As I walked, I spotted a hidden bend in the river beside the road. Show me any expanse of open water, and I feel a compulsion to immerse myself in it, so I dabbled for half an hour as the cars sped by a hundred yards away. The opposite bank was a firmament of star-shaped purple and yellow flowers, the air filled with pale-blue mayflies and monarch butterflies and the hum of crickets. So much goes on unseen by human eyes, especially in this vast country.
The landscape changes abruptly west of Columbus: horizons broaden, the sky and the clouds assume a more dominant presence, and the road is lined with huge expanses of corn and soybeans. It's beautiful, but you can have too much of a good thing.
After Pete had shown me round some of his own farmland, we sat down at the dining table with a pile of maps. 'There's lots more of this on route 40,' he told me. 'Basically, it's like this all the way across Indiana and Illinois. If I were you, I'd start heading south. Go to Kentucky. It's much more scenic - it even has hills.'
So that's what I'm going to do. Route 40 has served me well for more than 300 miles, and it could have taken me to Salt Lake City, but it's time for a parting of the ways.
I was in a bookshop the other day reading a book on ultra-lightweight camping, and it had a whole chapter on how to reduce your pack weight to 5 pounds. That's the kind of thing I can only dream of. I'm usually good at travelling light, and I constantly review the contents of my luggage (a couple of days ago, my 700-page guidebook was consigned to the bin because it's mainly about big cities, and this trip is mainly about small towns), but I really feel I need all the stuff I have.
As I walked, I spotted a hidden bend in the river beside the road. Show me any expanse of open water, and I feel a compulsion to immerse myself in it, so I dabbled for half an hour as the cars sped by a hundred yards away. The opposite bank was a firmament of star-shaped purple and yellow flowers, the air filled with pale-blue mayflies and monarch butterflies and the hum of crickets. So much goes on unseen by human eyes, especially in this vast country.
The landscape changes abruptly west of Columbus: horizons broaden, the sky and the clouds assume a more dominant presence, and the road is lined with huge expanses of corn and soybeans. It's beautiful, but you can have too much of a good thing.
After Pete had shown me round some of his own farmland, we sat down at the dining table with a pile of maps. 'There's lots more of this on route 40,' he told me. 'Basically, it's like this all the way across Indiana and Illinois. If I were you, I'd start heading south. Go to Kentucky. It's much more scenic - it even has hills.'
So that's what I'm going to do. Route 40 has served me well for more than 300 miles, and it could have taken me to Salt Lake City, but it's time for a parting of the ways.
posted by Phil at 9:44 AM
4 Comments:
Met you mum and dad (I think it was them) on the top deck of a bus in Brighton, travelling from the Marina to the Clock Tower. You mum was really pround of you and handed out your Coast to Coast card to me. And now here I am writing this comment. Fair play to you walking for such a good cause. We like walking as well but I do not know if I would be up for such a long coast to coast. Have done a coast to coast before but that was along the Caladonian Canal / The Great Glen way in Scotland, my homeland. All the best with your walk. Keep on truckin!
Glad to hear you have popped into a Starbucks-it all helps give "us partners" a little more in our profit shares. I am enjoying my new job and getting the hang of "calling out" the drinks. Try the Strawberries and cream frappacino- you might get addicted like Adam. Take care and keep your chin up.Melissa.
Hey, Phil!
It was cool to talk with you (while you were ordering your Subway sandwich) in Yellow Springs, Ohio and then via your cell phone --- after I checked you out on the web. I googled "coast to coast" "cancer" and eliminated the first one 'cause it said "run" and the 2nd one 'cause it said "ride" and the 3rd one was just right!
I told my favorite radio station, K-Love, about you and your story and they have stations all over America. Hopefully K-Love will help create a chain reaction of great things!
I pray God blesses you with a wonderful journey!!
Endless ways to communicate, enlighten and annoy... This is so much more fun than simply ringing your home phone on a daily basis from a well known banking institution in hammersmith! I feel that once starbucks enters your body all hope is lost! (Oh the humanity) Having checked out the official tour photograph, I am also a little concerned about the grey coloured second head you have developed. Very hitchhikers guide, don't you think. Do your glasses turn black in an emergency.
Great to hear from you, enjoy the journey...
Post a Comment
<< Home