Tuesday, July 31, 2007: Alas! Alack! We were beset by a couple of small misfortunes today. First, I am very sad to report, a string of good fortune that has followed me ever since Arizona was finally broken. For the first time in over 2,500 miles of walking, I have developed a blister. The little toe of my left foot sprouted a big one yesterday...I'm certain it's a result of the far more drastic ups and downs of the terrain, probably more the result of downhill walking than uphill. I lanced it last night and Jonna wrapped it for me this morning so, even though it hurt a little it did not impede my walking today. It will continue to be sore for a while, though, until I finally walk through it.

Then, when we pulled into our campsite this evening I discovered that we finally managed to leave our step-stool behind again. We've lost two previous to this and tried to lose this one on several occasions. I vividly remember walking through northern Texas one sunny day with my walking stick in one hand and the step-stool in the other when Jonna took off before we noticed we had forgotten to tuck it away. But this time I'm afraid it's history. We stopped early this morning to do some laundry in Uniontown...and that's where it sits as I speak - in the parking lot across the street from the laundromat. And we're not going all the way back into Uniontown to retrieve it. Jonna came up with a great idea - a little late, but great nonetheless: the next step-stool we get, we're going to cut a hole in it, tie a rope to it and tie it to Nessie's posterior. That way, when we drive off without it, the banging and clattering will quickly remind us to haul it in.

I forgot to include a great big thanks to the Monro Muffler and Brake shop just east of WalMart in Uniontown last night. As I mentioned, this area is really hurting for RV camps, so we had planned on parking in the WalMart parking lot last night (the solitary good thing I can say about WalMart - all of their stores allow RVs to park in their lots overnight, which is very helpful), which meant we'd spend the evening on battery power, but first we had to fill the water tanks, which were completely empty. I can usually find a convenience store with an outside faucet that will allow us to fill up, but I spied the muffler shop and figured they might have a faucet, so I pulled in and asked. The man said sure, and I filled the tank. When I was done, I figured what the heck, and asked if we might possibly borrow an electrical outlet and park beside their shop overnight. I told him I'd gladly pay for it. He didn't have any problem with that, so we spent the night beside the garage quite comfortably. In the morning when I went to thank him and pay, he refused the money - so we had a night free of charge. If you need a muffler or brakes or other work done in Uniontown, I'll put in a plug right now for the Monro shop just east of WalMart. Nice people.

As I told you yesterday, I didn't walk the hill east of Uniontown. Nessie chugged and wheezed her way to the top and Jonna dumped me off three miles from where we left off the day before, miles that I'll make up shortly. The rest of the day was uneventful, but we're still in an area where RV parks are sparse. We could have backtracked quite a few miles and paid too much money for one park we had passed by, but we hate to backtrack unless we have to. Locals at rest stops along the way told us there was a park at Mill Run a few miles ahead of where we stopped, so we motored on ahead and back a narrow, winding road to find an RV park sure enough - but no electrical hookups, and we really wanted electricity tonight. A man at the park informed us of a park at Tub Run, which was only a few miles backtrack from where we left off. He was certain it had electrical hookups. So back we went - and just as he promised, there's electricity and a very pretty state park.

But once again we find ourselves in the land of no cell phone - and thus no internet. I'll try when I'm done to get this to Duncan, but the phones are showing no bars, so I'm pretty positive I won't get this out to Duncan until some time tomorrow. We've had surprisingly good luck with coverage so far through Pennsylvania. I often notice repeater towers poking above the tree lines along the way, so it seems they've done a pretty good job trying to get coverage through here. But tonight we're down in a valley beside a lake, surrounded by forest, so it's no surprise that we don't have a signal.

If the weather holds good tomorrow I should be able to make it close to where we want to break north for a day in Johnstown. Of course, if it rains we'll take that opportunity to head to Johnstown. So that means it should be either tomorrow in the rain or Thursday that I take my last planned off-route day of the trip.

Jonna has been fuming lately about a few recent instances when we've had a chance to hear some of the talking heads out of the Capitol discussing the future of the war situation and other political issues. It's like they've all convinced themselves that we're going to be remaining in Iraq for several years yet. It really gives one the impression that the people inside the beltway - be they politicians or pundits - are paying absolutely no attention to anyone except the people inside the beltway. The entire population is becoming more and more disgusted by the day and these people natter on in their own little fantasy world - as if the only ones who want this war over NOW are the far left peaceniks, and as if someone, somehow will be able to figure out a way to maintain an American military presence in Iraq and secure the territorial and natural resource perks that this sleazy adventure was all about in the first place. I'm not sure what it's going to take for them to realize that this just ain't gonna happen. Let's just take a little look at the balance sheet.

Monday, July 30, 2007:  It was a hot day, but not quite as humid as it has been so the walking wasn't too bad. Jonna had a rough day - a headache combined with the fairly oppressive weather and, I suppose, a bit of a feeling of being pretty lonely out here right about now. We leapfrogged our way into and through Uniontown and through Hopwood, just to the east, and stopped there for the day. Uniontown has a wonderful and I expect quite rare historical honor - it was founded on July 4, 1776. Pretty neat.

I did a radio interview this morning with a station back in Canton and thought it went very well. Rather than the usual five minutes or so, the host, Mr. Ron Ponder, gave me about 20 minutes of airtime - and didn't once ask me how many pairs of shoes I've gone through or how much weight I've lost, which was very refreshing. Theresa, our angel of a PR superstar volunteer, informs me that we have inquiries from a Hagerstown TV station and a reporter for the Washington Post - outstanding! I hope the pan out better than some of the other recent disappointments such as the WGBH radio interview that didn't happen and the Philadelphia Inquirer contact that didn't go anywhere. Speaking of such things, I've had several people email to say that the link to our website on Michael Moore's page isn't there anymore. That explains why our website traffic has been half as much as normal for the past few days - and the accompanying disappearance of new contributors. Don't get upset, folks. For one thing, we can only be genuinely grateful to Mr. Moore and the folks who run his website for doing as much for us as they already have. He has directly literally thousands of people to us, and I am certain that without his featuring us right there on his front page for so long, Jonna would have had to return to Hannibal and get a job to keep me going and I would have been trudging through Illinois, Indiana and Ohio with a backpack all by my lonesome, so we deeply, deeply appreciate all they've done for us. Secondly, the link has not been continuous throughout my journey - it has disappeared before when there's been a lull in new press coverage - and there's been a lull in new press coverage lately. I hope the link will return when a new story comes out, but even if it doesn't I can't complain.

I'm going to tell you right off the bat that there's going to be a discontinuity in my walk tomorrow. Beyond Hopwood there's about a two mile climb up a very steep and rather winding grade. Yesterday we had to climb it to get to where we spent the evening, and we nearly had to get the harnesses out and hook Finn and Spoof up to the front bumper and mush poor Nessie up the hill (picture that in your mind for a moment). But that was nothing compared to early this morning when we had to come down the hill to get back to my starting point. Jonna, always the wiser head between us, informed me in no uncertain terms that there was no way she was going to let me walk that stretch. The signs dictate that semis and buses maintain a maximum speed of 10 mph going down the hill. Hah! There's a brake check station halfway down the hill and a runaway truck ramp - and it all combined to paint a look of sheer dread across my better half's face. Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! So tomorrow begins with a ride, rather than a walk, up the two miles worth of hill and me resuming the walk from the top. It's OK - I'll make up the distance later - and to be truthful, the hill scared me as well. Hope there aren't many more like that.

Another disappointment this morning. We had stayed the night only about two miles from Fallingwater as I had mentioned, so when we got up this morning we ran down the road before turning around and heading back for my walk. It's closed on Mondays, which I read in the literature the previous night, but when we pulled in the entrance the gates were open. We drove back to the parking area and there was an admission booth there where the lady said that although the house was closed for cleaning and maintenance on Mondays, the grounds were open - at six bucks a head and a quarter mile walk from the parking lot to the house. With money very tight again and not wanting to delay getting back on the road, we sadly turned around and headed back east. I've been madly in love with that house ever since I first saw a picture of it - back when it was more often referred to as the House at Bear Run - and have always wanted to visit it. Maybe another time. *sigh*

Sunday, July 29, 2007:  Some good uphill segments had me sweating buckets again today, but I was still able to make decent miles - and I think it was just a warmup for what's ahead the next couple of days. This area is not particularly RV friendly and we had to drive ahead a good deal east of Uniontown - and we're still a day's walk from Uniontown - to find an RV park. Actually, we drove to Ohiopyle State Park, up and down through winding road that had Nessie huffing and puffing...only to find that they don't allow pets in the state park. We've come clear across the country and it's the very first time we've run into that. They were good enough to point us to an RV park just north of the state park where our poor, discriminated-against puppies were welcome. The RV park turned out to be less than two miles from Fallingwater - my dream home since I was knee-high to a cornflake - so we just might have to make a short side trip there tomorrow, although I just read in the guide that it's open Tuesday through Sunday. That's alright - if I can just get close enough to get a picture I'll be happy.

We were prepared to pack it in at any moment today, as thunder rumbled ominously and the skies darkened overhead on several occasions. But it held off where we were, although when we drove ahead later I noticed that some areas did in fact get rained on. Although I spent the first fourteen years of my life less than a hundred miles from here, this is countryside I've never seen before and it is quite beautiful. At a rest stop in Scenery Hill today, Jonna waited for me across the street from Mill's Tavern which, according to a plaque outside, has been in continuous operation since 1793. We reflected that, while such longevity brings a reaction of a bit of wide-eyed awe here in the states, such a business may well be considered a newcomer in most of Europe. We often forget how different our perspective is from that of most of the world.

I'm a bit amazed that we seem to have at least some cell phone reception out here in the back o' beyond, so there is actually hope that I'll get this out to Duncan tonight. We'll see.

Saturday, July 28, 2007: We spent the first half of yesterday at the waterpark at Cameron Run park, courtesy of Jay and Jennifer, as a last fling for Katelyn before she returned to Hannibal. In the five or so hours we were there she was probably out of the water for about ten minutes. We probably could have stayed a bit longer, but I knew I was going to have to go back and get some rest before heading to Baltimore Washington Airport to catch her flight.

Few airports are designed to accommodate RVs, so we wound up having to park in the cell phone lot and trek about a mile and a half to the Southwest counter, but despite an evening of threats the rain held off and we saw her flight off successfully. It didn't depart until 10 p.m. Then we walked back to Nessie and hit the road to try to complete a good chunk of the return to Washington, Pennslyvania before the night was over.

We made it most of the way and wound up pulling into a WalMart parking lot, drew the blinds and zonked out. Too early in the morning we hit the road again and finished the trip back to my starting point west of Washington. It was a pleasant day for walking, which was good because I was just sort of on automatic today. I did make good miles, ending a few miles east of Washington, and we decided to take a room at the Motel 6 for this evening because we were both completely exhausted.

And now we're back to a crummy internet connection again. I've tried twice already tonight and got on for about five minutes each time - long enough to read some emails but not long enough to respond yet. Also long enough to observe that, since Michael Moore's new movie has been out for a while now his internet traffic is probably decreasing markedly, which is also reducing our traffic, as it's the one major site that has been featuring my walk. It also means donations are way down as well. So it goes.

I was supposed to have an interview with WGBH radio in Boston this morning, which had Jonna particularly excited, but they never called. Maybe they'll catch up with me later. I'll have one more planned one-day break, probably about four days from now, to run up to Johnstown and see my mother and some of my relatives there, but aside from that and whatever weather gets thrown our way, the rest of the trip should be uninterrupted. It looks like my total mileage by the time I'm done should be somewhere in the neighborhood of 3,200 miles.

Thursday, July 26, 2007: I won't write much tonight - it's been a hectic day of getting us ready to head back onto the road and Katelyn ready to fly back to Hannibal. Instead of writing I'm working tonight on getting some pictures selected and formatted to send to Duncan before we lose out high speed connection. Expect to see them added to the last couple of weeks of journal entries soon to flesh them out a bit. I probably won't get them sent out until tomorrow shortly before we leave, but right now I just have to get them ready so I can get some sleep.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007: As Planned, we spent the entire day in Williamsburg today. It turned out to be a beautiful day despite beginning in overcast skies and sporadic rain. For Katelyn, it was an obviously enjoyable trip back to time to the period of Felicity, the American Girl character central to the books Jonna has been reading to her over the past couple of weeks. To me, it brought some more pertinent thoughts.

Katelyn dances in the parlor of Mr. George Wythe's home

We didn't pay the extra charge to tour the Governor's Palace, but that wasn't high on our list anyway. Far better was the opportunity to tour the home of a Mr. George Wythe. Mr, Wythe, you see, was one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. Morevover, the was the first signer of the Virginia delegation. This was not by chance - the honor of being first to sign from the Virginia delegation was specifically reserved for him.

Jonna and Katelyn rolling hoops on the
Governor's lawn in Williamsburg

I walked today in rooms where Washington and Jefferson walked, having come to visit Mr. Wythe and consult with him. I entered his library, lined with scholarly works in English, French, German, Latin, Greek. And I began reflecting that, just as Mr. Wythe being the first from Virginia to sign the Declaration was no simple accident, so the brilliance of our Constitution is not merely a matter of happy chance. The men who hammered out the document upon which our nation is built were learned men - and passionate about their scholarship. Mr. Wythe's library was filled with books in a multitude of languages because he was fully literate in all of them, as were most of our founders. These men were elites - land holders, slave owners - but they were learned enough to understand that if their fledgling nation was to have any chance to endure, it could not be modeled to serve men like themselves, but must be built around and for the common man.

So they studied. There were many things they liked about the structure of English society - and some they did not. The French and Germans had some great ideas. Many inspirations came from Rome and from the Greek city-states. All of these ideas came together in their document. And they did it despite many political differences - they were certainly not all of the same mind. Adams, I believe, felt certain when the work was done that this new republic had little chance of surviving its first seventy years. But by the time they had finished, I believe they produced a document that has exceeded any of their expectations - not just Adams'.

Two hundred and thirty years later we have another group of elites at the helm of our nation. But I observe with great sadness that they have neither the intelligence nor the insight of those earlier men. They seem certain that the structure of our nation can be, well, sort of rearranged a bit - and that it is a good idea for them to do so. They seem to have concluded that it would be better if our nation was designed not specifically to be of, by and for the common person, but rather to serve those like themselves - those with power, wealth and position - so that their ownership of these things might continue to increase.

So they set about to correct what they see as flaws in this quaint, antiquated Constitution of ours. They seek - by the end of this century - to build an America that is the sole, unchallenged - and unchallengeable - superpower in the world. They seek, by turning our nation into an aggressor nation, to exploit the peoples and resources of any and every country that will serve to achieve this goal. They seek to gain control of the vast majority of this planet's wealth and power. In order to facilitate their ends, they seek to scrap a multiple party system of governance and replace it with a single party, amenable to their goals. They seek to build an Empire.

But, because these modern elites are far from being as insightful and learned as those who laid the foundations of our nation, they have neglected to consider one very serious flaw in their plans. In order to do what they intend to do, they need the allegiance and work of the common folks of the nation - the people. They need the support of the people to achieve their political aims. They need the blood of the sons and daughters of the people to secure the territory and resources of uncooperative nations. They need the loyalty of the people in sharing their visions and their goals for their nation.

They will not have it. Because, as the people begin to see more clearly the desires and goals of this new band of elites, they will realize that not only do they not share those desires and goals, but there is no place in those goals for the sort of benefits - freedoms - the people possess under the present system. And the truth of the matter is that the people of this nation have no desire to turn their country into an aggressor nation. The people have no interest in acquiring one square inch of land - or yes, even resources - that is not rightfully theirs already. The people have no taste for building an Empire. And while for a time the people might be duped - by the simple but highly effective device of fear - into cooperating in actions that serve to further the goals of this new elite, the ultimate motives of those who manipulate them cannot be obscured indefinitely. And as those motives become gradually clearer, the people will not only refuse to cooperate in building an Empire, but will forcefully - if necessary - resist.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007: I was up fairly early this morning, but not for long. Today was a day to decompress, so I went back to bed and didn't crawl out again until after noon. It felt good. Jonna and I spent quite a bit of time today talking about plans for after the walk. We want to try to use what we've developed here on the website and through the people we've met across the country to continue to try to make a contribution to the national dialogue. Some ideas are beginning to gel, but not far enough yet to outline any specifics.

We're planning to take a side trip down to Williamsburg tomorrow. As we've traveled. Jonna has been reading the American Girl book series to Katelyn and is presently reading the story of Felicity, which is set in colonial America in the Williamsburg area. Katelyn tends to get totally immersed in stories. Late last year she became acquainted with Helen Keller's story. She learned sign language and for several months she wandered around the house with a ski mask backwards over her head. Becky and Joey had to learn sign language as well, and during this time they communicated with her by signing into her hand, and she would sign back. Now she's into colonial America and while she's been with us she's usually been dressed in long dresses Jonna's picked up at various thrift shops along our path, curtseying to people she meets and generally living in the late 1700s. She is, of course, thrilled at the prospect of visiting Williamsburg.

Other than discussing future plans for the website and the trip tomorrow we've pretty much let everything go for today. I need to download pictures from the camera and get some to Duncan to fill out the journal and hope to get that done tomorrow at some point - certainly before we head back to the walk. I guess I should refrain from my always too optimistic calculations that we're in good enough shape to complete the journey financially, because donations have fallen way off again - and if we run into any sort of mechanical problems or delays - well, suffice it to say that your financial support is still very much needed and appreciated.

There are lots of other thoughts floating around in my head that I want to share with you at some point, but I'll have to wait a bit longer until they alight and I can make some sense of them.

Monday, July 23, 2007: Jay dropped us off at the Arlington Metro station at about 9:10 this morning. We seemed to have brought a San Diego day with us - the temperatures were unusually cool and the humidity low for a July D.C. day; in other words, just about perfect. As people gathered, the most well-represented groups seemed to be Veterans for Peace and Codepink. We met several VFP members we've previously met in other places and several of the guys I met and walked with at Mario's inauguration up in Chicago, Their reports were not heartening. It seems that Mario's having a really tough time out there. He's somewhere in Ohio right now and our thoughts are with him. I know he set a very daunting schedule for himself and can only hope it will get smoother for him in the weeks ahead.

I met Cindy early - at least to the extent of a welcome and a hug - but it quickly became clear to me that I was not going to be playing any sort of role in today's activities. That was alright with me; I came purely to support what she was trying to do and not to accomplish anything for myself, so we spent the day as three more faces in the crowd. I was heartened to meet up with Boryana, a sweetheart of a lady from Massachusetts who flew in today to be a part of the demonstration - and to meet me. She spent most of the walk with Jonna, Katelyn and myself so we had a good chance to get to know each other. Another young woman - I didn't catch her name - came up to us and said she was there primarily because she had been following my journal and was responding to my call to come to D.C. That also really felt good.

Jonna and Boryana at the rally

Katelyn was by far the youngest person there today. I don't think there was another pre-teen in the crowd, so she was soaking up all the attention that brought her way. The walk seemed to be well organized and the D.C. police were helpful and cooperative as we made our way toward the Capitol building. When we arrived, Jonna took Katelyn next door to the new Native American Museum while I stayed with the crowd. Some of the organizers addressed the group - I estimate there were probably about 250 of us - then began to go into specifics of what to do and how to act if we were arrested. After a brief period of reflection, I elected not to continue with the group into the Rayburn building. I saw no point in risking arrest today - I have my own thing I'm trying to do and having to go through that particular hassle would be counter-productive. So when the group headed toward the Rayburn building I went to find Jonna and Katelyn. I had come to support Cindy's walk and I had done that.

Cindy prepares for the walk

Jonna and I are still trying to process today's experience, and probably will be for a little while. I'll talk about it more as that processing matures. Perhaps I'm just too naive, but one thing that I didn't have to process - and that both saddens and bewilders me - is the little counter-protest that was held across the street from where the walkers were gathering in Arlington. There were probably about a dozen people, mostly I'd guess between 30 and 40 years old. They had a bullhorn and signs and were clearly doing everything in their power to incite some sort of violent reaction from the walkers. To everyone's credit, they either completely ignored or laughed at the taunts - except for one young man who began to cross the street to try to engage in a dialogue. The police wisely ushered him back. We heard pretty much every name in the book over the bullhorn: we were traitors, cowards, terrorists, communists(!), aging hippies - whatever they could think of to try to get a rise out of someone.

From behind the media setup at Arlington

I thought to myself that these people were citizens like myself, who went to schools similar to the ones I went to. There, they certainly attended classes on American history, world history and civics. Yet it was quite clear to me that if Mr. Bush insisted tomorrow that we henceforth refer to him as Emperor, those people would gleefuly click their heels and shout out a "Seig Hiel!" It is hard for me to take in the realization that we have in our midst today an enthusiastic cadre of 21st century brownshirts. I can only shake my head and wonder how this can possibly come to be.

The march reaches the Capitol building

I got word just a short time ago that Cindy and some of the others did indeed manage to get themselves arrested this afternoon, so I think my decision to curtail my participation when I did was a wise one. Not that I'm afraid of being arrested but, like I said, I still have a bit to do. I located Jonna and Katelyn and we finished the tour of the Native American Museum then headed down to the Museum of Natural History. Katelyn has inherited from her grandpa an intense fascination with rocks, minerals and crystals. When she could barely walk she would toddle out to the gravel driveway, carefully pick out a few special stones and bring them back to proudly show me her finds. While I've lived in California the latent rockhound in me has led me into all sorts of explorations in the mountains and desert east of San Diego, and we've often sent a few specimens back to Missouri for Katelyn, who has her own collection carefully arranged and dsiplayed on shelves in her bedroom.

So it was a cinch that she'd be blown away by the minerals exhibit at the Natural History Museum - and she was. The beauty and stunning variety of all of nature is reflected in the breathtaking colors and shapes of the various minerals that can be found in every corner of the world, and the exhibit of course features prime specimens of a great variety. Katelyn commandeered our camera and began shooting everything in sight.

By the time we oohed and aahed our way through the minerals exhibit and took a respectable side trip to see the dinosaurs it was mid afternoon, Katelyn's energy was finally ebbing and Jonna's feet were protesting, so we walked just a couple of more blocks to the office building where Jay works - a scant two blocks from the White House - and he ferryed us all back to the house. Finn and Spoof had spent the day in Nessie and were more than happy to get out and race around the back yard for a while, chasing each other in a blur through the canopied ivy.

Sunday, July 22, 2007:  Nessie huffed and puffed over the hills today and we made it to Jay's place in Alexandria. Of course, we didn't get here as quickly as we had hoped - and along the way we decided on yet another change in plans.

I'm really nervous about the long stretches in Nessie. True, nothing has broken down recently, but I feel like we're pressing our luck. Then there was the reality of getting here later than we expected and being able to do zero sightseeing with Katelyn. Then there is getting her back here for her flight out of Baltimore on Friday, which would mean going back to Washington, PA, making another trip in to Baltimore, and another back out to where we left off again. So with all of that, we have decided to stay here until Katelyn leaves. It means a six day break from the walk, but I still think that, weather permitting, I should be able to cover the remaining distance by mid August. It may also give us the first chance to really unwind a bit that we've had in a long, long time - and also give me a chance to finish some of the ongoing work on Nessie that I just haven't had a chance to do. So a few days off from the walk it is. With Jay's internet connection it will also mean that I can finally get a few picture to Duncan and get the journal out easily every night and so forth. The single downside is that there is little if any cell phone signal at Jay's place, so if you can't get in touch with me it will be because, once again, I'm out of range. When we go into D.C. and such I'll be able to pick up a signal and get messages and such, but otherwise the phone communication will be difficult during this period.

Saturday, July 21, 2007: Three states in one day - it felt pretty neat. We made sure to let Katelyn walk with me a bit in each state - near the beginning in Steubenville, then through Wellsburg, West Virginia, and finally just a bit of a walk shortly after I crossed the border into Pennsylvania.

Most of the rest of the way if probably going to be a challenging walk for me - lots of ups and downs and some pretty steep grades. I expect my best mileage days are now behind me. Route 27 out of Wellsburg was a good initiation, but it was also a beautiful day, so it made up a bit for the huffing and puffing as I slogged up some nine percent grades.

There is a certain richness to the greens as we come through West Virginia and into Pennsylvania that in my experience is peculiar to this region of the country. When we had a family reunion several years back and I flew from California to Johnstown to reassemble with all the kinfolk it was the first time in many, many years that I had found myself immersed in this scenery. There is something very placid and calming about it. There are several little villages along this stretch of road whose buildings obviously date back to the mid to late 1800s, and they line the edges of the road as you pass through the towns like faithful, if a bit weary, sentinels. Charming is perhaps too easy of a word, but it is appropriate.

Would that the charm of the scenery along the walk could have carried over to the rest of the day, but that was not to be. We had decided that in order to be in D.C. for Cindy Sheehan's arrival on Monday, I would take two days off of my walk. The plan was to motor ahead into Washington, Pennsylvania and take the rare evening at a Motel 6 so we could get laundry done and have showers and some time to relax on real beds. We had figured that we'd rent a car for the two days rather than take Nessie so far off route.

We arrived in Washington and found the motel with no problem, and I checked the phone book for car rental places. The cheaper the better is my motto. Also my cell phone has decided to give me problems. Some of the keys aren't working so I can't do things like hang up a call or dial the number seven. So I also looked for a Cingular store. As it turned out, both the car rentl place I wanted to check out and the Cingular store were listed on Washington Road, within two blocks of each other, so while Jonna relaxed for a bit I set out to make arrangements.

I had checked the map in the phone book and the only Washington Street in Washington was a two block long thing near the middle of town, so I headed there. As I've mentioned before, I very rarely have any trouble finding my way anywhere, but Washington, Pennsylvania proved to be the rare exception. The map was in my head, but the roads did not seem to match the map at all, so afer a few minutes of searching in vain for Washington Street I pulled into a convenience store to ask for directions. The couple behind the counter, though they attempted to be helpful, had apparently just moved to Washington from Pahrump, Nevada - because they gave me three of four different sets of instructions, each pointing me in a different direction. I thanked them and set out on the one that most closely adhered to the map in my head. I did find Washington Street, but it was two blocks of nothing located along the railroad tracks. Nearby was an auto parts store and I figured they might know where something like a rental car place was, so I stopped there. The man behind the counter gave me decipherable instructions, so I set out once again. A right, a left, another right, then follow that road...you can't miss it.

His directions wound up taking me right back past the motel on the other side of town! The thing is, they were right. It turns out that the businesses that are listed in the phone book as being on Washington road are actually on a road shown on the map and identified by street signs as Murtland Avenue. I take it this is Washington's little joke on the uninitiated. Bizarre.

First stop was the Cingular store. I was prepared from previous difficulties with our phones for the song and dance: our phones are still under warranty, but the warranty is a mail-order deal; you can't get your phone replaced at a Cingular store, you have to mail it in. Jonna and I have identical phones that we got just before we started the trip and we hate them. You can read about our previous adventures in early journal entries. Since we don't have a mailing address where we can conveniently have a replacement sent, I thought that I might actually shell out the money for a cheap replacement phone, since we really need to have the constant communication capabilities. The guy at the store confirmed that my phone was messed up, then informed me that the cheapest retail phone was $160. Hah. But then he actually tried to be helpful. He told me that they're not supposed to tell customers this, but I could go to any of the stores where they sell the pay-as-you-go phones, buy one, and slip my menory card into it and it would work just fine.

So I ran across the street and bought a nice looking little Virgin Mobile flip phone that I thought would be ideal for me. When I opened the package I could not find any place in the phone to put my memory card. Back to the Cingular store, where the guy now tells me that it has to be an AT&T Go Phone. But you told me any phone, I sez to him. I meant any Go Phone, he sez to me. Back across the street. Return the phone. Buy a Go Phone. Not as nice as the other one, but it does work. Except it doesn't have all my contact numbers that I had stored away. I'll have to find a way to get them out.

Problem number on solved - sort of - so on to problem number two. Up the road to the car dealership that advertised rental cars. They don't have any. The only other place in town that has rental cars is Enterprise. Back to the motel. Call Enterprise. Transferred to the national reservation center in St. Louis. I want a car for tomorrow and the next day out of Washington, Pa. Yes sir, oh - I'm sorry - the Enterprise location in Washington isn't open on Sundays. It's now 7:30 in the evening on Saturday. Washington, Pennsylvania is fresh out of rental cars.

So we have a forced change in plans. We'll be driving Nessie all the way into D.C. tomorrow morning after all. Neither of us is too happy about that, but we've run out of options. It probably will cost us less than renting a car would have (not by much), but we really didn't want to put that many extra miles on Nessie right now. As we've learned from an entire string of really weird problems, too much can go wrong. But away we go in the morning.

Getting to D.C. a day early will give us a chance to show Katelyn some of the city, which is why we wanted to do this. She's going back home on the 27th and it will be her only chance to get a little tourist time in. Katelyn has finally collapsed, Jonna is done with the laundry and winding down with a book, the guys appear to be out for the evening, but are furtively redecorating the entire motel room with impressive balls of fur (Finn in particular is shedding something fierce right now) and I'm going to close out, try to get this out to Duncan, check emails one last time and give up for the evening. If we're going to have some time for Katelyn in D.C. tomorrow we'll have to get started very early.

Friday, July 20, 2007:  The day began in chaos then gradually smoothed to a rich and productive finish. By the time I made it into Richmond we had a good cell phone signal - and all of a sudden I got a message on my phone that said I had 19 voice mails! So I started listening to them and they were from as far back as two weeks ago. I don't know what is happening with our cellular communications, but this is the second time I've had this. Folks, I want you to all know that if I haven't replied to your call, it's because I never even knew it was there. I had no indication at all that I had any messages waiting out there until this morning.

That really blew my mind and we pulled over outside of Richmond and I plugged the computer in to the little inverter so I could run it off the engine battery and get up on the internet - and sat there trying to catch up on phone messages, get the journal to Duncan and read emails for a while. As I was doing that a reporter for the Steubenville paper called and asked if he could come out to do an interview. I was still at it when he arrived. The interview went very well, I thought.

Some of the phone messages were from Ron and Marti. Ron was a fellow Perry High graduate from 1967 and they were hoping to meet up with me. It was great to hear from someone from my class and I told him if they headed down toward Steubenville and called when they got near I'd tell them where they could find me. There were also some messages from Howard and Nancy from east of Canton. They also were hoping to meet us and I told him the same thing I had told Ron.

Back on the road, we ran into some construction where 43 and 22 intersect which made it difficult for Jonna to get through. On top of that, her cell phone was dead so we had to be pretty careful about our rendezvous as it would be awfully hard to find her if either of us got off track. I had been told that it was OK to walk on route 22, so I told her to head that way and wait at the next exit.

As it turned out, it isn't OK to walk on 22, but since I had told Jonna to go that way I had to take it. Fortunately I got to the next exit without having the gendarmes mess with me. Much less humidity today, so the walking wasn't bad at all. We veered up to route 43 again, which parallels 22, then played phone tag with George and Nancy, who finally found us in the parking lot of a Rite Aid drugstore, still trying to recover from the frustration of the phone, the construction and the route. They offered to take us to dinner - an offer we've not yet refused, so everyone ran on ahead to look for a restaurant while I continued walking behind them.

One great thing today - lots of people in Steubenville must watch the local news, because I received many friendly honks and waves along the way. One city councilwoman had heard about me from the newspaper reporter and stopped to meet me and shake my hand. Then three young folks - a guy and two young women - also stopped. They wanted to sign the petition in person. I told them it was with Jonna, probably a mile or two up the road, so they shook my hand and went to find her. As I walked past another truck waiting to move into traffic, the young driver shouted, "Go for it, Bill!" I turned around and smiled, and he said, "There are lots of us right behind you!" I told him I really appreciated that.

By the time I caught up with Jonna, Howard and Nancy the three young folks had indeed found them and signed the petition. We chatted in the camper for a while, giving me a chance to cool down and dry off before going into the restaurant, and Ron called again. I told him where to find us and soon he and Marti pulled into the parking lot and we all went in and had dinner and some great conversation together.

It was getting late and I was starting to fade from the busy-ness of the day, so we all said our goodbyes. Both couple surprised us with very generous donations before they left, which I think will ensure that we'll be able to make it the rest of the way to D.C. I walked just a bit more before quitting (it's a compulsion now), but didn't cross into West Virginia, ending in Steubenville. We then drove across the river and up to Tomlinson Run State Park, where we're ensconced for the evening. How great it is to meet such caring people. George had a very helpful thought that he shared with Jonna. He told her, "I sometimes it doesn't feel like you're making a difference, remember that you're making a thousand times more difference than most." That really felt good.

I got one of the occasional hate emails today, from someone named Lawanda. She wrote, "Why don't you walk to Canada and stay there with the rest of the libtard traitors!" I can't resist opening like that, so I replied:

"Dear Lawanda,

Thanks for your input, but I'm a bit confused.

Am I a traitor because I served my country honorably for four years during Vietnam?

Or am I a traitor because I'm trying to restore the balance of powers between our branches of government to their Constitutionally mandated parameters?

Or am I a traitor because I'm trying to stop the killing of our sons and daughters in a war that was begun on lies and is perpetuated on lies?

Or am I a traitor because I want to see the rights guaranteed to you by our Constitution restored to you?

Or am I a traitor because my allegiance is to our Constitution rather than to any president or political party?

I have an idea. Rather than me moving to Canada, perhaps you would be more comfortable in a place like, say, Libya, where they already have the type of government you seem to prefer. Or you can just keep on sitting there and waving your flag and calling people names for a while - and before long we'll be living under that type of government as well.

Peace,

Bill"

I'll either get a fuming rant back or silence.

Connections here at the state park have been extraordinarily good, so I've stayed up way too late trying to get caught up on emails and such. I haven't quite made it, but I'm out of steam for now. If you haven't heard back from me please accept my apologies and know that I'll reply as soon as time and technology allow.

Thursday, July 19. 2007: For the past few days I've been walking along some of the most beautiful - and most treacherous roads I've yet encountered on the trip. Route 43 twists and turns its way from Waynesburg down toward Steubenville among bright green forest dotted with pastures and an occasional tiny town. The theoretical speed limit is 55, but traffic can seldom go that fast, as drivers encounter one turn after another up and down the low hills. Blind curves and narrow shoulders make it risky enough that Jonna really didn't want me to walk this section - but there was no alternative. The good news is that we drove ahead after stopping today and it looks like the shoulder widens considerably for the remainder of the way to Steubenville. The bad news is that it was one of those duck-the-raindrops days and I only made a bit over eleven miles before we finally gave up and headed for an RV park north of Richmond.

It was an adventure just finding the park - hidden away back in the hills and forest. But it was worth finding; a beautiful park with lakes, creeks, lots of trails and a very scenic setting amidst the forests and low cliffs falling to the creekbed. Despite the continuing drizzle-on drizzle-off Katelyn has spent the entire evening playing in the creek that runs alongside our space. Fearing that she'd play herself right into hypothermia, we finally called her in a bit after eight o'clock. I continue to inspect her for gills.

Where you find water, there you will find Katelyn

When I pulled into the RV park and got out of Nessie to register, the proprietor immediately noticed my peace symbol belt buckle and commenting on it. This led to talking about my little journey and, before I could blink, he was on the phone to the Steubenville newspaper and TV station. About an hour later the TV crew showed up and we did an interview right here in the park. The newspaper is supposed to call me back tomorrow as I near Steubenville. These are extremely friendly folks here in a very well maintained park - the Austin Lake Park and Campground, listed in Woodall's in Toronto, but nearer Richmond, I think. A little pricier than we're used to, but it does offer quite a bit.

I'm told today is supposed to be the end of the rain, so I should easily be able to make it the rest of the way to Steubenville tomorrow. Even if the weather is excellent and the walking is easy I'll stop there tomorrow - I want to experience the little novelty of walking in three different states the next day; out of Ohio, through the West Virginia panhandle and into Pennsylvania. After trekking around a thousand miles through Texas, it will feel great to knock off three states in one day.

Once again we're in the land of no cell phones, so this won't go out to Duncan until we get where there's a signal tomorrow. I'm truly sorry I haven't been able to respond to most emails and donations over the past several days - believe me, I would if I could. I did get an email from an NBC reporter in D.C. today wanting to know when I expected to arrive, so I know the efforts people are making to let the media know about us are bearing fruit - and I appreciate that.

We're getting awfully close now, and I really don't know how I feel about that. Tonight I've been thinking back to the earliest part of my walk. I've been thinking back to walking, completely alone, across the silent grandeur of the Anza-Borrego desert and dwelling as I walked on the magnitude of the task I'd set for myself - and the certain conviction that I needed to do this. At times the emotional impact of needing to do this nearly overpowered me. Step by step, day by day I continued; the deserts, the prairies, the plains, the farmlands, the forests. So many places, so many towns. Much of it all blurs together now; where did I see that? Where did I meet him? The miles are too many to contemplate - it all becomes an abstract. And in the end, when there is so much to reverse and to correct and to heal in order to accomplish what drives my heart it seems like all the work of my feet, all the determination of my spirit, all the words I've poured out onto these pages amount to so very, very little in the face of the wealth and power that has been sucking the soul of our nation into dust for so long now. I come to the place where I feel as a kindred spirit to the prophet, who spoke of a voice crying in the wilderness. The task is so great; the accomplishment is so small. And yet...

And yet the small voice of that prophet has carried over thousands of years and brought hope to untold numbers of ears. I am no prophet. I am merely a citizen - not proud, but rather, humbled to have been born into such a society. Much has been given to me and, realizing that, I have never felt it improper that much should be asked of me. I confess that I find some comfort in the knowledge that I am not required to be successful - success is well beyond my control. I am only required to be faithful - and that, at least, it seems I have been able to handle.

I did not set out to change minds. It seems to me that changing one's mind involves a certain element of recrimination, either arising from one's self or foisted on one from outside: how could I have been so blind? Why didn't I grasp this sooner? What is wrong with me? There is neither point nor merit to this. I did not set out to change minds; I set out to open them. With my walk, with my words, I have hoped to generate in a few of my brothers and sisters that moment of discovery, that Aha! revelation that takes the shards and tatters of memory and rhetoric that have been flailing around in a caustic wind and brings them together once again into the structure of a remembered dream, a cherished but nearly lost hope. This is the moment that touches the spark, the moment that rends the darkness and begins to dispel those furtive, fearful myths that are incapable of surviving in the light. There is no recrimination in a person, for a while blinded, suddenly seeing clearly once again - there is only a new and deeper appreciation for the sight regained.

I can only hope that I have been able to assist some in reclaiming their sight. But my walk will soon be over, my singular moment passed. Having done my best - in many ways reluctantly - to raise my voice above the cacophony and be heard clearly for a moment at least by a few, I will step down from the stage I've brazenly attempted to commandeer and allow others with perhaps clearer vision than mine or more persuasive voices than mine to take their turn. But will I have done my part? I don't know. I do know this: I would like to be able to do more

Wednesday, July 18, 2007: It rained on and off through the night and we were wondering whether we'd get a walking day in or not, but it stopped and cleared up before daybreak. It wound up being one of those days when we put far more miles on Nessie than we did on my feet. First, back up to the starting point, then after a couple of legs a side trip into Carrollton to try to find a cell phone signal. We did, but only long enough to see the new emails - not to read them. Back to the road, then after another leg in to the library to at least get last night's journal out to Duncan. Then back to the road again, a stop for a few groceries, through Carrollton and beyond, and finally a few miles backtrack to the RV park. While the temperature remained moderate, it was another extremely humid day. Every time I caught up to Jonna I looked and felt like someone had dumped a drum of water on me. It's now after ten o'clock and my shirt is hanging on the bathroom door - still soaking wet.

We picked up the Canton newspaper while we were in the grocery store and the article was on the front of the second section - another very nice job, we thought. Since we're incommunicado I can't really tell if it produced any results on the website. We'll still be in cell phone neverland tomorrow and will have to run ahead to Steubenville to check email and get this journal out to Duncan. Steubenville is within a long day's walking distance I think, but I doubt that I'll make it that far if the humidity continues like it has been. There's also a decent sounding campground near where I should finish so we should be set for tomorrow evening. But if the weather doesn't go goofy on us we should be out of Ohio and - I hope - through the upper panhandle of West Virginia before we break off to run into D.C. for Cindy Sheehan's arrival.

This evening we had one of the more bizarre incidents of the walk to date. We were sitting in the RV park not long after finishing the walk and I was cooling down a bit, when we suddenly saw a small herd of cows - about eight head - come wandering through the park. Being furriners, we figured that perhaps this was nothing unusual at this particular park - for all we knew they had their own camper and were headed to Wisconsin. But shortly after they wandered past Nessie, we saw a few men trying to shoo them back out of the park and across the road.

So here we sat, watching a few guys who pretty obviously weren't accustomed to the task trying to coax Bossie, Clarabelle and the rest of the group out of the park. And Finn was in here mooching pretzels from me. It occurred to me that Finn has five herding titles. True, he's only ever herded sheep, but what are cows other than overgrown sheep without wool? And true, it's been over a year now since he's herded anything, but hey, he's a smart dog. So I grabbed my herding staff (yes, I have two of them with me, actually) and Finn and I went out to see if there was anything we could do.

The guys had managed to coerce the cows across the road, but they elected to turn east into brambles beside a creek rather than west toward where we had determined there home was. And there was no fence or anything to prevent them from coming back onto or across the road if they had a mind to. We stood there a while to see what the cows were going to do, and sure enough, shortly they emerged from the brambles and headed back toward the road. "OK," I told Finn, "They're just big sheep - let's see what we can do." - and I removed his leash and gave him a "Go bye" command - the command that would send him on a clockwise arc and cut between the cows and the road.

To my delight, Finn remembered perfectly and trotted on out along his arc. The cows weren't too sure what to make of this, but most of them clearly weren't too thrilled to see a dog in the field and headed back west, where we wanted them. One, however, decided to show her displeasure and advanced toward Finn, head lowered. I was very proud to see Finn stand his ground and, without backup, the cow decided she better not press it any further and joined the rest of the ladies.

I neglected to mention that this was also my first time ever herding cows - and I can tell you I was pretty nervous about it, both for me and for Finn. I figured Finn would be OK as long as he remembered and took my commands, but he can run a whole lot faster than I can - and cows are big suckers. I didn't care for the thought of a ton of surly beef getting torqued off and deciding she wanted a piece of me.

I kept Finn flanking the cows, driving them up the hill to the west. When they looked like they were going to break north I reversed him with "Away to me" (run a counterclockwise arc), then when he was in position to head them off there, I used "Stand" and "Walk up" to keep him between the cows and the road.

The only trouble I had was that Finn is used to the herding staff being used as a directional aid for him. But with animals this size and none too cooperative, I had to use it more as an intimidation tool for the cows - waving it vigorously and smacking the ground with it. Unfortunately, Finn being the mellow herder he is, was also intimidated by my using the staff like that, and at one point he decided he'd just rather not be out there with me going berserk with that staff and headed for Katelyn, who was standing back up on the road with the guys, watching this.

I managed to coax him back, though, and we had all of the cows moving out of the far end of the pasture and up the hill through the woods toward home by the time their owner arrived and finished shooing them homeward. I was quite proud of Finn. While some aggression and a bit of barking on his part would certainly have been helpful, he's not much into that. He'll do it with sheep if necessary, but his is a much more calm, controlled herding style. Even so, and even facing animals that he'd never seen before, I don't think anyone could have asked more of their dog, especially after more than a year away from the herding venue. He may not have won any titles today, but he sure impressed the folks standing around watching. And what are the odds that you'll find yourself in an RV park when a gang of rowdy cows comes barging through - and you just so happen to have a dog with you who can herd them back to where they belong? "Normal" is not a word that ever applies to our lives.

I also got a hairy eyeball from Jonna tonight. She does not always read what I write in the journal and, while we had a short period of cell phone reception this afternoon our daughter Becky called and mentioned that I had written about the vodka martinis at Therese's. I defended myself by pointing out that I did not say that anyone got soused - I just mentioned the numb upper lip and the silly grin. I don't think it appeased her very much.

Besides the herding incident, Katelyn got to swim this evening - and also got to inspect a miniature - but rideable - train layout and seven kittens, so she's had a ball. Time for us to turn in. If any more critters get loose during our journey I'm hoping they'll be sheep next time. Finn will love that.

++ It's four in the morning and the rain has been coming down for a couple of hours now. At the first clap of thunder our big, brave herding dog of a few hours ago made the otherwise too-tall leap up onto the bed and has been cowering between me and Jonna, trying to get even closer with each new crash of thunder or flash of lightning. I'm going to be amazed if I have a walking day coming up - rats. But you never know - if the rain stops, with the undulating terrain the road could dry quickly and I might be able to get a day in after all. If the rain stops. We both got up for a minute for necessaries and now Finn is curled up under the dinette at my feet while Jonna reads a few pages of Ezra Pound before we return to a too soft mattress - we need to remember to pick up a new set of inflating batteries - it's the only thing we have that takes D cells.

At the end of the article in the Canton paper, in an effort I'm sure to provide the customery "balance" to an article, the reporter included a quote from the woman in the house I happened to be passing when he caught up with me: "He's got a cause, but he wouldn't have that freedom if these wars weren't fought to keep the freedom for us," she said. "End all the wars, and you lose all your freedom." Sometimes I don't know whether to scream or cry. I want to go back and find her and ask her to explain that statement to me. It appears that we're now fighting in Iraq not to remove Saddam Hussein, not to rid Iraq of WMDs, not to bring Iraq a democratic government, not to stablize that government, but to secure our own freedom. Not only that, but it appears that this is the purpose of all wars - and if we stop fighting wars we automatically lose our freedom. I would really like her to tell me if she actually believes that a handful of sociopathic murders who used to be called terrorists but whom we've now elevated to the position of enemies of the state are capable of enslaving our entire country...and if she is able to recognize how many of those freedoms she's talking about we've already lost - at the hands of our own government - under the pretext of fighting this ephemeral war. I'd like to ask her, if securing our freedom is the purpose of all wars, since we did not achieve victory in Vietnam, what freedoms we had in 1962 that we do not have today because we did not succeed in that war. I'd like to ask her...oh, never mind. I'm going back to bed. And it's still raining.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007: No one slept in as I expected this morning - as a matter of fact, I think Therese was up most of the night and had already done a good deal of the cleanup before we were even out of bed. We gathered our stuff, crammed it all into Nessie and bid our precious hostess goodbye. Of course, since this wasn't a routine stop I neglected our checklist, and only a block from the house a lady pulled up beside us and hollered out her window, "You're dragging a cord behind you!" I thanked her and pulled over. I had forgotten to unplug Nessie. Fortunately no damage was done and I coiled the power cord and stowed it and we were off once again. Duh.

I had promised to make a stop at the Carleton Oaks retirement center in Sebring on our way back to the start of my walk, where we had a pleasant visit with half a dozen of the residents - still peace activists and keenly interested in our journey. Jonna dumped me off in East Canton (sounds rather abrupt, doesn't it?) and a while later I was visited by two photographers and a reporter from the Canton Repository. The reporter had called the previous day, a bit upset that he had missed me as I passed through Canton on Sunday, but I let him know where to catch me and we did an interview by the roadside.

The temperatures weren't too bad today but the humidity was nasty. I carry my own little humidity gauge with me - my Unfriendly Critter Alignment Tool (the thing that looks like a walking stick). When the humidity gets really bad, the UCAT gets sticky in my hand - and it was sticky today. And so was I.

With the start from Youngstown, the visit in Sebring and the interview, my mileage suffered today, but not too badly. I made it to just south of Waynesburg. We motored on ahead to a nice RV park south of Carrollton which is just about where tomorrow's walk should end, so we'll be based out of here for the next couple of days. The bad news part of that is that there is zero cell phone reception here, which means both the phone and the internet are unavailable until we get out of this little valley. So I'll have to wait until Jonna chauffeurs me out of here tomorrow to get this out to Duncan, check email and web traffic, catch phone calls etc. etc. And we'll go through the same loss of communication tomorrow night.

We're into lots of little rolling hills in a rural, wooded environment now - a pretty area. The terrain doesn't affect the walking too much yet, but this particular section had a major landfill along it, so there was lots of truck traffic today.

Speaking of which, we had a good laugh this afternoon. Jonna had pulled Nessie into a gated but obviously unused turnoff near the landfill at one point to wait for me. She and Katelyn were out walking the guys when one of the men working at the landfill came up to see if they were alright. While he was talking to Jonna, Katelyn handed the man one of my cards. Jonna says he took a quick look at it, then thrust it back to Jonna as if it were on fire. "Ma'am, I'm a veteran!" he informed Jonna as he puffed himself up. Jonna gave him a broad, sweet smile and replied, "Yes, sir - and so is my husband - the man who's doing the walking." She said you could see him deflate like a balloon. "Oh." he said quietly - then turned and walked away. In any group I suppose there will be a few who are a bit slower to figure things out.

I also got a rather obstreperous email from someone today who contends...well, to be truthful I'm not sure exactly what he's contending, but it seems to have something to do with it somehow being unfair in some way to do a cross country walk in the manner I'm doing it. I guess it's only supposed to count if you're all by yourself with a backpack and living off wild berries and roadkill along the way. I wrote back a little more politely (but not much) to inform him that this was a bit more than a cross-country hike - that I'm actually trying to accomplish something here. Besides, nobody told me there were rules to this before I started. My bad. I begin to think this is the sort of stuff the contemporary media is teaching people - if you don't like what someone is saying and can't come up with a valid argument to support your prejudice, attack them anyway - even if the attack has absolutely nothing to do with anything. Call them a nutcase. Call them an aging hippie. Accuse them of faking, or cheating...or whatever comes off the top of your head. It doesn't matter - just find a way...any way...to paint them in a negative light so you'll be able to dismiss them without ever having to consider the merits of their argument. But wait - I think there's already a name for this technique. It's called swift-boating, isn't it?

Monday, July 16, 2007:  It's been a hectic day but a good day from beginning to end.  We were actually able to sleep in for a bit today, which was wonderful, but then had to get busy getting things ready for the meeting this evening.  Meanwhile I received several calls today, some from news organizations, some from new well-wishers – and all of them appreciated.  One of the local TV stations called to see if I would be interested in doing a half-hour community TV spot.  Certainly!  So Therese drove us down to the TV station where Jonna and I were on together for a half hour.  It's surprising how quickly a half hour can pass, but it's so much better to have the time to expand on points, and I think it went very well.

There was still much to do when we returned from the interview, but Therese and Jonna figured it would be appropriate to celebrate the events – as well as our new friendship – with a couple of vodka martinis.  This was a nearly disastrous decision.  Jonna likes a good wine occasionally and once in a while will have a mixed drink.  I think Therese is pretty much the same.  I elected to take a quick nap while the ladies shared some time together.  When I got up, Jonna was listing noticeably to port…and confessed to me that her upper lip was numb.  She had that silly grin that I've seen a few times before, and I observed that their martini glasses were, um, rather large.  There was a definite buzz going on in the room.  But she and Therese both managed to pull everything back together before company began arriving.

Therese and the Gang

We had a very nice turnout – somewhere between two and three dozen people – and a ton of food.  Three different TV stations showed up at different points during the proceedings, and I know that at least one of them actually made it on the air.  I talked fro a while about what we're trying to do, fielded questions for a while, then spent the rest of the evening visiting with people individually and having a general good time.  I stuck with my Mountain Dew.

Once again I'm pretty well exhausted.  Jonna and Katelyn have already turned in.  Therese is still visiting with a few of the people who came for the event.  I wish I could describe for you how fantastic this experience has been; what an incredible person Therese is and how much the world could use a zillion more just like her…people who genuinely care about the people around them, friend or stranger; people whose passion is creating a better world; people who are fearless about pursuing the common good; people whose hearts reflect the very best that humankind has to offer.  We've met so many people like Therese, and already miss each of them dearly.  But they are the ones doing the work that must be done if our nation is to regain it's sanity and if we are going to leave our grandchildren a world full of hope and promise.  Paytown.org – Peace Action Youngstown, which is driven by Therese and headquartered in this grand old dame of a castle perched like an elderly matriarch on the corner across from the park watching the domain around her ebb and flow through the changes of society – needs your help and support to continue to be a presence for peace and justice.  Visit the website.  Support the work.  Do what you can.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007 : A very early morning thunderstorm had us wondering whether I'd be able to do any walking at all today, but it stopped and I got on the road earlier than usual in case it might start again. As the morning progressed the skies gradually cleared, and the early rain had cooled things off considerably from what they have been for the past several days. In addition, the last half of the day was spent on the much broader four lane section of route 30, so it all combined for an easier walking day than I've had for a few days now. We motored the few more miles into Wooster and are plugged in at the home of Mike's father in Wooster. Mike is the young man from Columbus who has arranged a speaking engagement for me there on Saturday. He showed up (with his wife and brand new baby) in Wooster about an hour after we arrived, treated us to pizza for dinner and we sat and talked and had a great time getting to know a bit about each other. I believe they're going to provide us transportation up to the Cleveland airport tomorrow morning to pick up Katelyn, which will be a great help as it means we won't have to maneuver Nessie through the Cleveland traffic - or the always too constricted environs of an airport.

I also received a call from another Mike this afternoon - the reporter back at the San Diego Union Tribune who has been following us - and doing some great articles - from the beginning. I believe he is intending to do another article soon, so our friends in San Diego can start keeping an eye open for that.

I did some checking last night and discovered that we're now within about 350 miles of our destination - a walk in the park, as the saying goes. I'm going to tentatively set our arrival date as August 15th and am pretty confident that, barring a couple weeks of steady rain, we should be able to make that. Also, I've redefined the remaining route after Canton, Ohio once again as you'll see on the Route page. This should be fairly solid. There will be an off-route trip near Farmington to drive up to Johnstown to see my mother and some of our relatives in the area, which will call for a day off at that point, and there will also be a break around July 23rd so we can drive into D.C. to meet with Cindy Sheehan when she arrives.

On the Youngstown plans, there will be a potluck at 6:30 p.m. next Monday, followed by my yammering for a bit at 7:30. I don't know the exact location yet, but should be able to provide that tomorrow.

It's way later than I want it to be right now, so that's it for tonight...except to mention once again that between July 23rd and September 11th there is a place you need to be. It's important - it may well be one of the most important things you'll ever do. I'll see you there.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007: I made it from the west side of Mansfield to the east side of Mansfield today, which was all I really intended to do. It was in the 90s again and humid, and actually I covered 14 miles in the process, so that wasn't too bad. I walked right back to Charles Mill Park where we're holed up again tonight. It's a good thing I started early because not too long after I was done a sudden strong wind rushed through the park, followed by a short but intense rain. I would have hate to have been caught out in that.

Things are getting more hectic and complex by the day and I'm going to do my best to stay on top of everything. Tomorrow I hope to make it to Wooster, where we will have a driveway to park in. Day after tomorrow we take a break to go fetch Katelyn in Cleveland. On Saturday, I've been given a forum at the Drexel Theater on Broadway in Columbus thanks to Mike, who works there and has been doing some great PR for us. I'll be there beginning at 6:30 p.m. and lasting until whenever, I guess. If you're in the Columbus area, please join us there. And if you can look up any of the Columbus media, a note to them on our behalf would be most appreciated. I have absolutely no idea what to expect - I may be there all by myself or there may be a good crowd, but I never turn down an opportunity to try to get people to think and speak up.

Right now I'm awaiting word from Therese of Peace Action Youngstown, who is planning an event for us in Youngstown. I think it's going to wind up happening Monday, but I don't know for sure yet. As soon as I find out I'll let you know. It's off route, but we'll drive up to be with the good folks of Youngstown.

Theresa, in Kentland, Indiana sent me a piece today that someone identifying herself only as "Proud Soldier's Wife" posted as a response to one of the You Tube videos of me out there. I'm still pretty much You Tube and MySpace illiterate so I wouldn't even know how to find it myself, and my internet connections are invariably so slow and unreliable that I'm unable to watch the videos, but I wanted to share with you what this young woman had to say:

She said, "I commend you for your stand. Your are welcome to come to Clarksville, TN, which is right outside of Ft Campbell, KY. My husband will be going over a THIRD time to Iraq and I am sick of it. My husband and I are the only married couple that has survived in his platoon. If any other soldiers were married, they are divorced sadly. American soldiers' families are breaking down and being torn apart for he president's personal agenda. Where is this to end? How many presidents will it take?"

I've not said much about this aspect of what's going on, but it really burns my butt. The very people who have been running around waving the flag in our faces and chanting, "Support our troops! Support our troops!" for the past five years are the very people who are quite literally abusing our men and women in uniform without conscience or concern. How Orwellian can we get? Vietnam was a terrible tragedy, but at the very least we did not put our valiant young men and women through the sort of nightmare our military is enduring today. During Vietnam, you served one twelve month tour of duty and that was it. This thing is a veritable nightmare for our armed forces - triple tours of duty, tours now extended to 15 months, Reserve troops called up and subject to the same insane tours. I heard just the other day of a Reserve officer who recently retired - he was in his mid sixties. Less than two months after retirement, he was called to active duty again. Today, in Cleveland, I read that Mr. Bush stated that it would be up to the military commanders to determine what our future military deployment in Iraq will be. The unstated subtext of that declaration is, of course, "I wonder how many more of them I'll have to fire before I can find one stupid enough to agree with me?" The fact that he can continue to force this in the face of public opinion, in the face of Congress, and now in the face of even his own party shows both how blind to reality this man is and how we have let all of this go on far, far too long - which brings me to my point for this evening.

Monday, July 9, 2007: A day of just about average mileage today, prevented from being any more by continued hot and humid weather - and some very welcome diversions.

The first diversion was a call in to the Stacy Taylor radio show back in San Diego. I wanted to get the words out about the confluence of our walks and the other events in D.C. this summer and urge people once again to be there, and they were gracious enough to afford me some air time to do so. But that always means a wait for callbacks and time slots and so forth.

Our other diversion was a serendipitous surprise. For some odd reason I decided to wear the white bandana today that Rocky had given me way back in Tucson. It was the first time I've worn it since Arizona. Then around noon I received a call from Vince, our dear friend from Tucson who was so instrumental in getting me contacts, support and the all-essential lodging while I was in that area and by myself during the period Jonna was up in Hannibal with Becky and family. It turns out he was passing through Columbus with his daughter, Alena (not sure of the spelling there) on their way to Massachusetts and wanted to meet up with us. An hour later we were in the McDonald's parking lot in Crestline, catching up on events and giving Jonna a chance to meet them. It was wonderful to see Vince again. But they were hoping to make Massachusetts before the end of the day so the visit was short. I'm sure we'll meet again.

I received an email today from a gentleman named Cody Lunsford from Dallas, who is planning, along with his wife, a daunting walk of their own beginning the first of next year. I encourage you to read about it at libertywalk.org and we wish them tremendous success. One part of his email surprised me though, and just in case there are others out there under the same misconception I wanted to make something clear to everyone. It had not occurred to me that those who are finding us through Michael Moore's website may well come to the conclusion the we are at least minor media celebrities by now with a huge following and that pretty much everyone knows about what we're doing. Nothing could be further from the truth. For some reason unbeknownst to me, Michael Moore has featured us on his website almost from the beginning of my walk - and words cannot express my gratitude for that. But that's it, folks. Website traffic continues to increase - we're up to an average of about 250 visitors a day now - but beyond that we remain essentially undiscovered. We have received local media attention to varying degress in most areas I've walked through, but no national media outlet has yet shown any interest in what we're doing, so for the most part we are very much anonymous. We also have no organization - or money - backing us. We have managed to keep afloat - just - through the wonderful generosity of some very special people, but at the rate we've been going we'll arrive in D.C. broke. That's just fine - as long as the broke part don't happen before the arrival part. So there it is, folks. No throngs of people welcoming us in each city I walk through, no book deals, no movie deals, no lucre oozing out of our pockets - just a walk across the continent trying to get people to think...and act. If you think more people ought to know about what we're saying and what we're trying to do you are more than welcome to do any and every chunk of PR you can think of on our behalf - and Jonna and I will appreciate it tremendously.

Sunday, July 8, 2007: I put in a shorter than usual day today for a number of reasons: (a) Jonna was worried about me after yesterday and would have done me bodily injury had I not taken it easy today; (b) it was nasty hot and humid again; (c) Jonna had not slept well at all last nignt and needed the rest, and (d) I had a lot of thinking and writing to do, because...

Hooray! Soozy in California sent me the New York Times editorial from this morning's paper, where the Times is now calling for an immediate end to the occupation of Iraq - not a phased withdrawal, not a bunch of benchmarks, but start getting them out right now. Of course, it would take about six months to accomplish it and I see that as acceptable, but what made me feel great was the number of ways their editorial echoed what I've been saying so long. I want to reproduce a few quotes from the article here with comment:

"Whatever [Mr. Bush's] cause was, it is lost." I still find this nearly incomprehensible. I've been saying for so long that we really don't even know what the administration was trying to do in Iraq, and five years and 3,600 of our sons and daughters later, even the Times confesses that it doesn't know what this was really all about in the first place. How incredibly tragic - and inexcusable - that we've let it go on this long.

"Continuing to sacrifice the lives and limbs of American soldiers is wrong." Not ineffective, not senseless, not unproductive. Wrong. It's about time.

"...the invasion has created a new stronghold from which terrorist activity could proliferate." In others words, our "War On Terror" has now proven to be exactly the opposite of what our leadership has been calling it - it has been a War For Terror.

"The United States military cannot solve the problem." And the Times editorial points out that the other avenues that might actually resolve Iraq's (and the world's) problem cannot even be explored until that military option is abandoned.

"Mr. Bush must drop his resistance to talking with both Iran and Syria." - and every other country in the world he views as a threat.

"President Bush and Vice President Dick Cheney have used demagoguery and fear to quell Americans' demands for an end to this war." In other words, the entire country has been the victim of the fear tactics used by terrorists - and they have emanated from our own executive branch.

I could go on, but there it is. And tonight I feel as never before that we have finally reached the tipping point. This war will be over - and we will be able to begin repairing the damage done both to Iraq and to our own Constitution - and it will now be sooner rather than later. With that in mind, I think that this summer is even more important, and I will be communicating with Cindy Sheehan again this evening to see if we can begin to solidify plans. I have made some decisions - chief of which is that - if she is agreeable, I will depart from my walk wherever I may be so that I may join her when she reaches Washington. I'm going to try to encourage Mario to do the same. I'll return to my walk and finish it, but I think we need as much of a presence as possible for as long as possible in Washington this summer. I'm hoping she will then be there when I arrive and we will both be there when Mario arrives.

I also intend in the very near future to set a specific date for my arrival so that I can give as much advance notice as possible. This will be very difficult, as it involves a little crystal ball work in terms of weather and other circumstances and I am determined to be true to my walk down to the very last step. But I need to try to provide some accommodation to planning so watch for an announcement here soon of exactly when I plan to arrive in Washington on the walk.

And now, to look to the future. I thought a lot today about - once we recognize how completely idiotic our approach to addressing the problem of terrorism has been - what we are going to do to get serious about it. As the time is approaching for that topic to finally be seriously addressed by our nation, I'm going to put in an early word.

I have come to the realization that, if humanity ever manages to extinguish itself in a glowing nuclear holocaust, it will not be a democracy that perpetrates that horror. Nor will it be a monarchy. It will not even be a dictatorship. If we ever go out in a radioactive blaze of nuclear armageddon, it will be a theocracy that will be responsible for it.

A theocracy - a system of government where a particular religion is also the governing authority of the nation - is the only form of government ultimately capable of such insanity - because of all forms of human government, it is the only one that inherently incorporates the danger of placing greater value on some form of afterlife than on this present life. This is a grievous error - in any religion - but it is an error to which religion is constantly prone. And once a religious organization crosses that fearful line where human life takes a back seat to whatever from of afterlife it espouses, it becomes unafraid of the prospect of annihilation, believing itself in so doing to be performing some sort of macabre favor to its followers and its god.

I do not believe this is either a natural or inescapable construct of religion, but it is a potential. And that potential is always an outgrowth of fundamentalist and literalist interpretations of religious doctrine. Every religious text with which I am familiar carries within it the possibility for followers to be persuaded that human life is without true value, and that the only thing that really matters is some form of eternal or other-worldly existence. If followers can be persuaded that this is true, they are then naturally more than ready to commit any and all sorts of genocide, homicide or suicide in the name of their religion. This is the root of terrorism, and it is planted in the fertile soil of the church, the synagogue, the mosque and the temple.

It is therefore the responsibility of the mainstream religious organizations of this planet, more than any other entity, to finally take a stand against the fundamentalist/literalist elements of their faith structures. Every organized religion is well aware that fundamentalist/literalist doctrinal interpretations are antithetical to the true nature of their faith, but none of them have had the courage to speak up or act decisively to educate their followers out of this twisted path. I think the primary reason the world's major religions have allowed their doctrine to be hijacked by the superstitious element within them is that they have become enamored of their success in terms of recruitment and wealth. Fundamentalist/literalist religious movements have one principle tool that forms the basis for their success - and that tool is fear. And it is extremely powerful. Fear of being left behind. Fear of going to hell. Fear of being judged unworthy if they do not perpetrate the radical action. Fear of those not of their faith, who will surely destroy them if they do not act first to effect destruction. The orthodox foundations of the world's religions have watched with a perverse admiration as unscrupulous charlatans in their midst have so successfully built religious empires by wielding fear effectively - and in many cases have even attempted to emulate the success they have witnessed.

Understand that this is not a new problem - it has existed throughout the history of religion and civilization. Atrocities have been committed by the deluded and grossly manipulated faithful in the name of every major religion in every generation for thousands of years. We have somehow come to see this as perversely natural, though monumentally tragic, and have done little if anything to stem this corruption of faith as it ebbs and flows through history. But we now live in a world where, if such movements are not exposed as the insane dangers they are, they hold the potential to destroy not merely a people or a civilization or a country, but an entire planet.

So it is time for our religious communities to wake up and realize both the danger of this perversion of their theology and the fact that they, themselves are the only ones who are capable of undoing the damage that literalist/fundamentalist religion is causing - damage that, if left unchecked, will ultimately become the death knell of humanity.

We must call upon the leaders of all of our religious faiths to - this moment - dedicate themselves to the single most crucial action they can perform, both for their own faiths and for humanity in general. Stand up, speak out and act immediately and decisively to either bring your fundamentalist/literalist elements back to their senses, or to clearly and emphatically disinherit them from your faith traditions altogether. They represent a clear and present danger to the entire human race - and you know it. And you also know that you are the only ones with the authority (and you are rapidly losing it) to regain control over this rabid, deluded element.

Since I am a former United Methodist pastor, I want to address my former colleagues directly - the pastors and ministers of the Christian faith. If you think that radical Islam fundamentalism has been a fearful and destructive thing, just wait until your own Christian fundamentalists take that next, imminent and totally foreseeable step and begin suicide bombings and terrorist attacks in the name of Jesus. You ain't seen nothin' yet. You have permitted the theologically challenged within your ranks to adopt literal interpretations of your scriptures - particularly the book of Revelation - combine them with a heavy dose of superstition, and create a cancerous deformity of your faith that now is perceived by the average American - and certainly the media - as the "norm" of Christianity. This "end-times" movement gleefully adopts the interests of Israel...because it has been led to believe that the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem is a necessary step toward their cherished outcome - which is nothing less than a planetary, holy blood-letting that will annihilate all the bad guys and rescue all the good guys - and they don't think there are very many good guys. This is anethema to your faith and your God and you know it. And you are the only ones who can correct it. This is where and how we begin to eliminate the use of terrorism, and I strongly suggest you do it before the next round emanates from your own house.

Saturday, July 7, 2007: It was a decent walking day today from west of Upper Sandusky to east of Upper Sandusky, if a bit on the warm side. Our biggest trouble today was the maps. We're trying to follow old route 30 but the maps have not been helpful. The road atlas doesn't label the small roads clearly enough to tell you what you're looking at sometimes, and the official Ohio state map shows that the new, four lane route 30 is open all the way through here, which is - of course - a lie. Fortunately, my GPS map was correct, so through the middle of Upper Sandusky today we reversed roles and I forged on ahead while Jonna waited behind so I could tell her which streets to take to stay on route 30. It worked out fine and, although this was my first under-20 mile day in a while I still made good progress.

Shortly afterward though I had a bit of trouble. We had stopped for a few groceries before returning to the RV park and as I was pushing the cart toward the front of the store I think I may have nearly passed out for a second. Very brief, but for an instant I wasn't sure where I was or where I had been for the past few seconds. It didn't make me feel good and Jonna said my color had drained. Hard to believe with the amount of tan I've acquired, but nevertheless she ordered me back to Nessie while she finished up. When we left there we went to do some laundry and I had a chance to collapse for a bit. I've been through hotter days and much longer days than today, so I don;t know what took it out of me, but I'm fine now and settling in for the evening.

I mentioned a week or so ago that we were having trouble with Nessie's coach battery, which seemed to have gone dead. I neglected to report that I fixed the problem - all by my widdle self. I hearkened way back to Yuma, when we first got Nessie on the road and had to stop to have her taillights fixed - they weren't working when we bought her. The mechanic had opened the hood to trace wires and then had gone back to the right rear to check the coach battery charge. I heard him commenting that the coach battery didn't seem to be getting any charge and he couldn't figure out why. While he was messing around, I was examining the engine compartment. I saw something there that was unfamiliar to me (not that most of what hangs off an engine is anything I know anything about) - a little circuit breaker-type switch was mounted above the battery; just a tiny thing with a little rod in the center not more than a sixteenth of an inch in diameter. It was obvious to me that the rod was in the out position, which usually means that a circuit is inactive. Being in some ways a typical male and thus possessed of a typical male's analytical skills, I pushed the switch to see what would happen. Understand that I had absolutely no idea what the switch was for or what would happen when I pushed it - but understand also that this the a typical mechanic's modus operandi...and it's also why, if you hang around garages even for a little time, you'll hear "Oh, shit!" quite a bit more often than you'll hear "Aha!" If you don't know what it does, mess with it. The engine could have fallen onto the pavement for all I knew. But it didn't. Instead, I suddenly heard the mechanic back at Nessie's posterior exclaim, "Huh! All of a sudden I'm getting a charge. Wonder what happened?" I smiled. I knew what happened. But I wasn't about to tell him. Let it be a mystery.

Anyway, the morning after we began having the coach battery troubles I remembered this little discovery and opened the hood to check the mysterious little switch. Sure enough, the little rod was thrust out again. I clicked it back into place. Later in the day, the coach battery was fully charged and everything was working again. I still have no idea if that little switch is supposed to be there - it obviously isn't original equipment, and it has wires coming from it that quickly disappear into the tangled mess that is the usual automotive wiring scheme. But I now know for certain that unless that little rod is pushed snugly into its little hole, the coach battery will not charge. That seems to be what it's there for - to sit quietly and really mess you up until you fiddle with it and realize it actually does something or - more accurately I suppose - prevents something from being done until you pay attention to it. I also don't know why the little rod sometimes decides to jump out and stop the coach battery from charging...and I absolutely refuse to worry about it.

Upper Sandusky had its Fourth of July celebration today, with a parade downtown and a fireworks display tonight. I walked through the middle of town not too long before the parade, as people were beginning to line the streets at the time. And the fireworks display is conducted from the high school, which happens to be directly across the field from the little RV park we're staying at, so we had front row seats for it. We were both quite impressed - for a town of about 12,000 people, Upper Sandusky really put on an impressive fireworks display.

Friday, July 6, 2007: Despite what is clearly depicted in the official Ohio state road map, this section of route 30 is a very narrow stretch of road with a very narrow shoulder. There are signs every ferw miles stating "Caution: Narrow Road, Heavy Traffic" - as if anyone in the vicinity didn't already know that. So I spent the day staring into the slavering maw of Rolling Death hurtling toward me at 88 feet per second, and passing so close to me that I realized that If at any moment I suddenly thrust my right arm out, I would no longer have a right arm to thrust out. Other than that, it was a piece of cake.

Seriously, I did not launch this project with either the intention or desire to wind up as a greasy spot along the side of route 30 in Ohio, and today's walk was more than a bit unnerving. Jonna and I began discussing alternative routes that would keep us near our path but of of this stretch of motorized depravity. Then, when we were done for the day and found a great little RV park a few miles ahead in Upper Sandusky, the lady at the RV park told us that the new route 30 (not yet open between Delphos and Upper Sandusky, despite what the road map shows) is actually open from Upper Sandusky on eastward, so the old route 30 we've been walking suddenly becomes a bucolic jaunt with all the traffic now diverted to the new four lane divided highway. That means I only have to survive about nine more miles of this before the traffic disappears, thank heavens. I should mention that despite - or perhaps because of - the perils of the road today, I made better mileage than I have in a long time. Perhaps the day quickened my pace as well as my heartbeat.

When the lady at the RV park discovered what we are doing she became genuinely excited and asked if it was alright if she called the local papers. We said of course, and just now have completed an interview with a weekly paper published out of Carey, a small town a few miles north of here. When she discovered we were planning on staying here again tomorrow night - since my walk is still nine miles west of here and we'll be passing through Upper Sandusky tomorrow - she offered us the night free of charge, which we gratefully accepted.

The runup to today's interview was amusing. The reporter called me on the phone and at first asked if I could email him a picture of me walking. I said sure. Then we began to talk. He asked a number of questions then, after a short pause, said that he might be able to make it out to meet me tomorrow as I walked. I told him that would be great. We talked a while longer. Suddenly he said, "You know, you sound like a reasonably educated man." I told him I have roughly the equivalent of a master's degree, although I've never graduated from any college. Then he confided - as several other interviewers have - that he sort of expected that I'd be a nut case, but that everything I said made perfect sense. I thanked him. By the end of the phone conversation, he said he'd be down to see me within the hour - and he arrived and we had a great little discussion. Jonna and I got quite a kick out of the metamorphosis that I must have gone through in his mind from traveling nutcase to reasonable, rational citizen that occurred as he talked with me over the phone. But as I said, it wasn't the first time - and probably won't be the last.

Other news - our younger granddaughter Katelyn will be rejoining us next Thursday. Becky and Joey are flying her out from Hannibal to Cleveland where we'll go off route to pick her up. She'll remain with us for most of the rest of July, by which time we ought to be just about within spittin' distance of Washington. Also there are plans in the works for a reception of some sort in Youngstown - another event we'll go off route for - but since it's a bit early yet to declare a set date for our arrival there the timing is still in the works.

Very early this morning (too early, to be truthful), I read this sentence in an MSNBC article about Sen. Pete Domenici's decision to support a bill that would begin bringing most of our military forces out of Iraq by next March: "He said at a news conference that parents of those killed in Iraq previously told him the United States should stay in Iraq as long as it takes. Now, he said, some parents have asked him to do more to bring the troops home sooner." And I find myself compelled by this write a bit about honor, victory and vindication.

I don't know how many people who have lost a loved one in Iraq are reading my ramblings - or how many of you know someone who has lost a friend or family member there - but this is particularly for you.

When I began my walk, Jonna and I had to sit down and talk seriously about our hopes and expectations for our little effort. We felt it was crucial, before I took even one step, to affix firmly in our own hearts and minds a clear objective for my walk by which we would determine whether our effort was successful. And we agreed that day on what the measure would be: we decided that, the day I set foot in our nation's capitol, our effort to end this war and reclaim our democracy would be a complete success. That's it. We did not pin our hopes on anything else. We could have - very easily - and I admit it was tempting to do so. Certainly we have hopes and dreams. In our wildest dreams I would have two million people walking quietly but determinedly with me when I arrive in Washington. Our fondest hope is that it will require three or four semi trucks to haul the paper containing the names of the people who have signed our petition by the time I arrive. And of course our fervent wish would be that the day after we arrive, our Congress would finally come to its collective senses and, in an emergency meeting, remove the war powers it has granted this president and demand the immediate removal our our military forces from Iraq and Afghanistan and a complete re-examination of the tactics our country is using to address the problem of terrorism.

But we realized from the very start that we could not allow our hopes and dreams to become our goal, because to do so would almost certainly set us up for ultimate failure and intense despair. And it occurred to me this morning as I read that sentence I quoted earlier that this is where your leadership has failed you most pointedly and most tragically.

They have convinced you - and many of them are actually convinced themselves - that in order for the service, the courage - yes, even the very life - of your son or daughter to have been honorable, it is necessary that whatever campaign they were involved in must result in victory. And I believe that by doing so, they have committed a terrible and tragic disservice to you, to our brave military men and women, and to our country; a disservice that must be recognized and corrected if our nation is to ever regain a healthy perception of honor, duty and country.

First of all, while puffing out their chests and thundering that anything less than victory is completely unacceptable, they continuously redefined or completely obscured the goal post to which they attached the banner that marked this victory. At first, it was the removal of Saddam Hussein - or the destruction of WMDs and the capability to deploy them. Then it was a freely elected representative government for the Iraqi people. They even had many of you convinced that victory had something to do with a redress for Iraq's fictional participation in the events of 9/11. And now the goal post is...well, nobody actually seems to be sure, but I believe it has something to do not with just a "stable" Iraq, but with a cooperative Iraq that will serve as a strong foothold for American corporate and financial interests - and a secure source of oil reserves - in the middle east. Many of your leaders have even been so insensitive, immature and thoughtless as to compare this war in which your loved one participated so selflessly to a football game. Among the many faults in this wretched analogy is that fact that in this particular "football game", every time our "players" scored another goal the minimum score requirements were increased or another quarter was added. In other words, they not only allowed, but demanded that you define the worth of your son's or your daughter's sacrifice based on an ever-changing or even undefined benchmark.

This has placed you in a position of never being able to feel that your sacrifice is truly worthy unless and until something that can be called "complete victory" has been achieved...and they are either unable or unwilling to clarify for you the nature of that victory. This is, I believe, unspeakably cruel, unforgiveable - and even demented - on their part.

You see, I served in the military - for four years during the Vietnam War. I at least had the advantage then of knowing, in my own mind and my own heart, the measure by which I would call my service honorable and worthy. I believe wholeheartedly in this great nation of ours and the principles upon which I have been taught it was founded and the ideals I understand it cherishes. I have always felt grateful and incredibly fortunate for having been born into this wonderful, open, caring society. As an American citizen, I have guaranteed to me rights, freedoms and liberties that are unparalleled in all of human history and, as a young man, I felt it was not too much to ask of me to relinquish for a time (because that's what you do as a member of the armed forces) a great number of those rights and freedoms - even to the point of possibly being required to risk or sacrifice my very life - in order that I might be able to live the rest of my life, along with my family and neighbors, in the comfort and freedom that I valued so highly for myself and for them. That's why I served, and that's why my service to my country was and remains an honorable and worthy sacrifice. I was never called on to carry a gun. I was never called on to fight in a war. But that - to me - was never the point.

And now you are made to feel - despite the fact that your loved one did carry a gun and was called upon to fight in a war and did make the ultimate sacrifice - that unless something else, completely beyond your control and actually never even made clear - is accomplished, their sacrifice cannot be considered to be honorable or worthy. Of all the lies that have been told you, this is the most damning. Your son's - your daughter's - life was deemed honorable the moment they raised their hand and swore it in service to their country - and nothing should ever be permitted, in your mind and heart or in the soul of this nation - to tarnish or diminish the sense of honor and valor you righteously own for them. Whether or not the campaign in which they were called to serve is ever judged by some - or any - third party to have been "successful" - indeed, even should history judge that the leaders who placed them blithely in harm's way were maliciously incompetent in doing so - cannot tarnish in any way the sacrifice your son or daughter made. Because their service was not to men or corporations - it was to country. The measure of their success was not some undefined, redefined or totally abstract "victory" - it was the service itself, in their heart and their soul, that achieved their honor.

Do not look to continue some misbegotten, incomprehensible spilling of blood as a way to justify or prove their honor. It is already proven, and nothing should ever be allowed to diminish that for you or remove that from you. Demand that our leaders end this terrible thing now, before others are called upon to realize the true honor and worth of the service their loved one offered to their country - even in the midst of a campaign that itself does not understand the meaning of honor.

Thursday, July 5, 2007: It was an uneventful day today. A mostly overcast sky kept the temperatures reasonable, and a cool breeze along with a wide, four lane route 30 in this area made the walking easy, so I turned in another 20+ mile day. RV parks seem hard to come by in this stretch of Ohio, so we wound up motoring about fifteen miles ahead to a little park in Williamstown. Not long after we settled in for the evening and impressive - but thankfully short - thunderstorm came rolling through the park. You have to understand that the guys are southern California dogs, and while it may occasionally rain in southern California - even hard once in a while - it is almost never accompanied by the sturm und drang of lightning bolts and claps of thunder. So when this storm hit it naturally scared them out of their fuzzy little skulls and both of them immediately tried to crawl into the space under the dinette, where Jonna and I were playing a game of canasta. They don't quite fit, so Jonna had to make a space for Finn to quiver on the seat beside her while Spoof trembled at my feet. Like I said though, the storm was short, and when the guys realized the world hadn't come to an end they soon returned to their normal, if wussy, selves.

I had reasonable cell phone coverage during the walk today, so I called Don Day. Sadly, he has not been doing well at all, so I would like to ask you all to keep him in your thoughts and prayers. The cell phone signal didn't follow us to the RV park though, so I may once again have some difficulty getting this enrty out to Duncan tonight. It's been all I can do for the past week to get email read, stats checked and the journal sent to Duncan, which means I haven't been able to maintain a signal long enough to reply to all our emails or send thank yous to people who have made a contribution. Please accept my apologies - and know that as soon as I can get enough online time you'll be hearing from me.

I hope everyone's enjoying the pictures from the past week and a half - that's how I spent my online time last night - choosing and sizing the pictures and getting them out through the ether to Duncan so he could post them. By the way, three cheers for Duncan - he's been doing a terrific job for us without hesitation or complaint and both Jonna and I are deeply grateful.

Another note: Becky, who usually gets our press releases out ahead of us, is presently in a position where she's unable to get any computer time whatsoever, so I'm going to ask everyone to feel free to do whatever PR you can for us. If you know of media outlets along our route, or have people who can let us swipe some electricity and water for a night, don't feel that you have to clear it with me - just jump right in there and make the call or send the email.

And one last note: if you think I was kidding with last night's post, be assured that I'm dead serious. Come to Washington. It's time for a 21st century Boston Tea Party - it really is.

That's it for tonight - it's near midnight and it may take me a couple of hours to get this to Duncan. Wish me luck!

Wednesday, July 4, 2007 (late): First, a quick update. I made it to Delphos today with an early start and overcast skies, then we motored in to Lima (off route) so I could treat Jonna to a motel room for her birthday. Having been out of cell phone coverage for the past day it was not until we arrived at the motel and got plugged in that we discovered Cindy Sheehan has returned and will be walking from Atlanta to Washington, D.C.

A number of events and conversations have coalesced over the past few days to bring me to the point of asking something major of you. I am continuing to meet a great number of people who are tremendously supportive of what I'm trying to do, but have essentially despaired - they have come to believe that all of this is beyond our control, that nobody in Washington is going to listen to anything we have to say, and that our nation is going to continue to slide out of our hands and into the hands of the politicians and corporations.

I continue to strenuously disagree and personally feel that things are coming together for something truly momentous to happen this summer. With Mario's walk from Chicago, Cindy's walk from Atlanta, my humble effort, the growing anger and frustration of the average people I'm meeting along the way, the president's ever-increasing disregard for the rule of law and the Congress' continuing refusal to exercise its Constitutional mandate to maintain balance and responsiveness in our governance, I am beginning to believe that we are approaching a tipping point, and may finally have the opportunity to reclaim our democracy. But I think that there is one last element necessary that will push this effort over the edge and bring about the change that must come - and that element is YOU.

I want to ask everyone reading this to resolve to do one single thing this summer. Whatever it takes, however difficult it may be for you personally, make one single commitment and carry it through. And this is what I ask: some time between now and September of this year - come to Washington, D.C. Walk, drive, take a bus, a train, a plane - it doesn't matter how you get there, just get there. Cindy is slated to arrive later this month, I should be there around mid August and Mario plans to be there by September 11. Join any of us or all of us, or just come when you can, but come.

What I believe we can do is literally shut down the city with the sheer number of disgusted, disenfranchised and generally pissed off Americans who want their leadership to pay attention to them. There are now millions upon millions upon millions of us and we can demonstrate this concretely to our temp hires in D.C. in a manner that they will be unable to ignore.

I won't pretend that it will be easy or in any way convenient - I can only propose that it will be necessary, powerful and effective. Bring a tent. Plan to rough it. You don't have to bring a sign or a banner - just your self and your outrage. Polls show that 77 percent of Americans now want this war over. That's well over 200 million people, folks, who share your opinion. 200 million people. Wrap your head around that number.

A round trip ticket from the west coast to D.C. can still be had for less than three hundred bucks. Break the piggy bank. Sell some of the junk in the attic. Hold a grage sale. Hell, skip a payment. We sold our house and just about everything we own to do this - you can squeeze it out - you really can. How important is it to you that your children and your grandchildren grow up in a country that is truly free, that is truly responsive to their needs and their voice, that is truly America? This is the time to demonstrate how important it is. Tell your friends and neighbors to quit bitching and do this one thing. Form a caravan. Come to D.C.

You may never have served in the military. You may never have held public office or signed a petition or carried a protest sign or joined the Peace Corps or written a legislator, but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that, just once in your lifetime, your country needs you. It truly does. Not me. Not Cindy. Not anybody else to speak for you or act for you. Your country needs you. Come to Washington this summer. Bring your hopes and your dreams. I'll meet you there.

P.S. One last thing Jonna wants me to add: if you find yourself completely incapable of making the trip - or even if you work up the courage to actually come - there is one other thing that you can do: beginning today and continuing for as long as it takes, write or call your legislators...daily. Don't give up. Don't stop. Things are truly beginning to build and it is imperative that we keep the pressure on every single day and at every single opportunity. Do it.

Wednesday, July 4, 2007: It is Independence Day and I am not going to do what you expect today. I could do a cheer for Cindy Sheehan jumping back into the fray, and while I'm thoroughly delighted at the news, I'm not going to do that. I could write a scathing rant about the pardon of Scooter Libby, but Keith Olbermann did an outstanding job with that. I could write a treatise on the meaning of this holiday - and in fact was in the process of writing a piece about faith and symbolism - but I'm not going to do that, either. Instead, I'm going to tell you about my wife.

It is, after all, her birthday. She's not quite as old as our nation, although it is a coincidence that has been a lifelong source of easy jokes for her friends and family. She confesses that, as a very young girl, she was thrilled that everyone celebrated her birthday - with fireworks, picnics and everything. It must have been a terrible letdown when she discovered it was not all for her.

Her name is Jonna Lee O'Dell and she marks her 61st birthday today. I would say "celebrates", but to be quite honest about it, she is not exactly thrilled at confronting the realization that she is in her 60s. I understand that and, although I am a terrible tease, I do not tease her about it.

Jonna Lee is my partner. We share many attributes and interests in common - chief among them an outrageous passion for each other and for life in general, and a keen distrust of authority figures. We are very much alike in many ways, and in other ways we complement each other in a fashion that strengthens both of us. She is my teacher, my student, my best friend, my companion, my comforter, my inspiration, my wife and - above all - my lover.

She is an incredibly strong woman. I have often said that if I ever have the opportunity to write a book about the endeavor in which I'm presently engaged, the title will probably be, "Walking Was the Easy Part". It was at first a source of aggravation - but has now become a source of amusement - that she has so often been asked what she does with her time while she waits for me to catch up to her on my walk. The question has always been asked with the clear implication that she must sit around twiddling her thumbs, bored out of her skull for hours on end while I trudged valiantly through the heat of the day and the dangers of the roadside to collapse in her arms and have her soothe my fevered brow at the end of the day. In fact, she works far harder than I do in order to keep our little mission rolling, orderly, efficient and together from day to day.

Jonna Lee is one hundred percent female, a fact that absolutely delights me, but also at times frustrates and confuses me. I have had to learn that when she gets mad, she gets over it - and it's still sometimes hard for me to remember that. It's also difficult for me to grapple with the fact that, often when she is in tears it is the natural and best place for her to be at that moment and my efforts to reassure her, though sincere, are neither effective nor a good idea. Among her strong female attributes is the role of nest builder, so when I asked her, in essence, to kick our nest out of its nice, comfortable tree, strap wheels to its belly and launch it on a careening adventure across the continent, it certainly hit her heavily at her very core - but she did it not only without complaint, but with a willingness and a determination to see this through every bit as intense as my own.

To say that I could not do what I am doing without her would be to damn her with faint praise, because she is not merely my strong support; she accomplishes what I can't and forces me to stretch myself to achieve what I otherwise wouldn't. She mourns and despairs with me when it's appropriate - and kicks my butt when it isn't. When I dream of a woman, it is always her - and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Today, I just wanted to let everyone know what an incredible woman she is, and wish a very public Happy Birthday to my lover, my partner and my passion.

After a good night's rest I was feeling quite a bit rejuvenated today and we forged on ahead into Ohio, making it as far as the rest stop just west of Van Wert, my first twenty-plus mile day in a while I think. We motored on ahead into town to pick up a few supplies, then down to Timberwood RV park just southwest of town. We have absolutely no cell phone signal - and this no internet - here, so I will probably unhook later and run closer into town to check email and get this journal entry off to Duncan.

Apparently the TV interview aired yesterday because I had several people honk and wave today, and Mark, driving what I think was a highway maintenance truck, pulled up just before I crossed the Ohio border and got out just to shake my hand and thank me. That kind of thing always makes me feel great. I also got a couple of calls from Mike in Columbus, who is going to try to put something together for us in Wooster and drive up to meet me when we get nearer to Columbus. Janelle, from Columbia, Missouri also called. She had done a radio interview with me when we were in her area and wanted to do a follow-up, so we talked for a good length of time. I just want to let everyone know that we don't mind at all when people call. There will be times when we won't be able to talk due to other circumstances that may be occuring at the time, but we always welcome the calls - and it's very aggravating when we find ourselves in a location such as we're in tonight where there's no cell phone reception. If you don't get through it isn't because we're not answering or because we've shut off the phone - it's simply because there's no signal.

I forgot to mention last night - Andy and Corrine from Chicago have put an antique bicycle up for auction on eBay, with all proceeds from the sale going to help keep me and Jonna trekking toward D.C. It was used to ferry our airmen to and from their planes in England during World War II. Since I'm unable to get online as I write the journal tonight I can't provide a link directly to the page, but you should be able to find it on eBay by entering the search words "world war bicycle" - without the quotes.

I just wanted to mention the swift and apparently successful reaction of the folks in Great Britain to the recent discovery of car bombs. It's a good thing it didn't happen here, because we would probably have declared war on something and started bombing Ecuador. Speaking of which:

Dateline - July 3: In a surprise news conference this morning, president George W. Bush, apparently fed up to his eyeballs with Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert, officially declared War on Humor. The first phase of this new front in metaphoric warfare was a massive air strike against Great Britain and France. The president justified the strike against France by citing that country's long-standing and seemingly inexplicable support for old Jerry Lewis movies; and the strike against Great Britain was in response to the known fact, established by our crack CIA intelligence team, that this country remains the principle source of Monty Python's Flying Circus reruns.

Mr. Bush was quick to establish clear parameters for this war: bathroom humor and sexual innuendo remain acceptable, so a vast majority of prime time network programming remains unaffected; but political humor in any form is now considered to be an act of war.

"I'm tired of being the butt of jokes," the president declared, and displayed a new sign which will occupy his desk in the oval office until our valiant military forces establish a swift victory in the War on Humor. The sign reads, "The Butt Stops Here."

On the heels of this announcement it was discovered that Jay Leno, David Letterman and Bill Maher had fled the country and have begun broadcasting from a secret location in Luxembourg, so special forces units are diligently conducting a house-to-house, search and destroy mission in Canada. So far, they have failed to apprehend any of the humorists and Pentagon officials have begun re-examining their tactics with an eye toward looking for them in Iceland.

Scooter Libby, newly appointed czar of the Homeland Anti Humor Agency (HAHA) - a lifelong humor victim simply because of his name - announced, "The humorists have infiltrated every level of our society and represent an international plague of the most fearful sort - 9/11. We will therefore not rest until every humorist is apprehended - 9/11. After all, there is no Constitutional right to humor, and that is as it should be - 9/11." He then immediately raised the humor alert level from puce to a sort of pale, bluish mauve.

As patriotic citizens of this great democracy, we are all called upon to do our part in the War on Humor. In an emergency Congressional resolution passed by Dick Cheney since Congress was in recess and unavailable to act quickly and decisively to address this grave threat to our safety and sense of decorum, it is now a federal requirement that any citizen hearing political humor - especially references to such things as smirking chimps, My Pet Goat, hunting mishaps or anyone talking in a phony Texas accent - must immediately report such incidents to HAHA, which can be accomplished by simply talking into your telephone.

Monday, July 2, 2007:   Nobody got enough sleep last night so, despite the fact that it was another beautiful walking day, it wound up being a short mileage day. Jay took us out for breakfast, but our grandson definitely got up on the wrong side of bed...he was not happy and he really didn't care one bit who knew it. Poor little guy - being away from mom, having these two strange geezers pawing all over him and coping with lots of noise in unfamiliar surroundings - if I didn't half over half a century on him I would have been pouting, too.

Dave in Fort Wayne and Theresa back in Kentland are still putting in lots of time and making lots of contacts on our behalf, so I wound up getting phone calls from two TV stations and one newspaper while I was walking today. Only one of them actually showed up, just when I had arrived in the downtown area at the end of my first leg this morning. That's also where Jay and his son and Jonna planned to catch up with me so, as I was interviewing, Jay pulled up in his rental car followed closely by Jonna in Nessie. The cameraman may have gotten some good footage, as there were three generations of us walking together for a couple of blocks. But as I said, the little one had had quite enough and wasn't about to smile any more than absolutely necessary. I felt sorry for both him and Jay, because I know Jay would have liked to see him in a good mood before they had to fly back home, but two years old is two years old and sometimes we just have to work with what we get.

We had started a bit later than usual because of breakfast, and by the time the interview and filming was over it was creeping up on noon. Jay had to drive back to Indianapolis to catch his flight so we said our goodbyes and they were off. Dave had also caught up to us on the street just before the cameraman had arrived and he also went on his way. It just so happened that I had stopped in front of a thrift store, which is something that Jonna is pathologically incapble of resisting, so I continued on while she browsed.

But the short night, combined with the hectic nature of the past couple of days - and I believe possibly a touch of whatever Jonna was suffering from a few days ago - had really taken it out of me, and by the time Jonna finished up at the thrift shop and managed to catch up with me both of us were totally exhausted, so we decided that despite the beautiful weather it was time to call it quits for the day. We checked our various references and wound up turning back into Fort Wayne, where we settled in early at the Johnny Appleseed Municipal park, a nice little place with a few electric hookups right between the river and the Fort Wayne Coliseum. I may have to wander out later in the evening and try to get the journal to Duncan while operating on battery power, because the trees seem to be doing their best to obstruct my internet connection.

Meanwhile, as I said, Theresa continues to work fervently on our behalf back in Kentland. She's set up a store for us at Cafepress.com where you can by all manner of items sporting a variety of WTETW designs that she's created. If I understand it correctly, 20% of every sale will go directly to helping us continue our journey to Washington, D.C., so check it out at http://www.cafepress.com/wtetw - and thanks once again, Theresa - you are truly an angel!

A small personal note: a few days ago I received a call from a reporter back in San Diego. I didn't catch her name and we got cut off, but if she's following along in the journal I'd like to ask her to call back and apologize for the lousy signal that cut our conversation short.

Tomorrow we should easily make it into Ohio, and I want to offer one more apology. I warn people frequently that our route is extremely flexible and am sorry that I'm often unable to give more notice when we change plans. Our present plan is to leave Fort Wayne on route 30 and stay on route 30 at lest until Canton, Ohio (where I graduated from high school, by the way). This is more northerly than we had originally intended to go, but there is a reception in the works for us in Youngstown and, while Youngstown will not be on our route, we'll head up there at the closest point to be with the good folks there and then return to the walking route. I'm not sure exactly how our route will look east of Canton, but that's a couple of hundred miles away yet and I'll try to figure it out before we get there.

Sunday,  July 1, 2007 :The good news is that it's been an event filled day; the bad news is that I'm exhausted and have just about enough energy left tonight to give you the highlights. Wish I could do more.

The best part of the day was that our son Jay and our youngest grandson flew out from Washington, D.C. to pay us a surprise visit today. Sine we've been living on opposite coasts this is the first time Jonna has seen our youngest grandchild and only the second time for me. He'll turn two in September and he is a charmer from head to toe - pale blond curls, beautiful light blue eyes and a personality to match. They caught up with us in the afternoon, shortly before the last leg of today's walk which took me to the 3800 block west in Fort Wayne.

Jay and Son

Earlier in the day Millard, a new friend from the area, bicycled out to meet us and join me on a leg of the walk. Somehow he missed us the first time around and biked far more than he intended to intrying to find us. After walking a leg with me I'm sure he had gotten more exercise than he intended, but still showed up at teh Third World store in Fort Wayne (611 W. Wayne) for the press conference at 7 p.m. Dave, our primary Fort Wayne contact, was there as well, and it was a delight to see Mario again, who had driven in from where his walk has taken him - just a bit west of Fort Wayne.

My heart goes out to Mario - he's going through the walk-through-the-pain phase of his journey right now as his body adjusts to the daily walking and was clearly in quite a bit of pain. I hope he heals quickly and his body soon finds the stride.

Jona and I agreed that Indiana was having a San Diego day today - perfect walking weather with scattered white clouds in a bright blue sky, pleasant temperatures and a bright blue sky. That combined with Millard's company and Jay's surprise visit made walking a complete cinch.