The longest direct road distance from one corner of the Continental United States to the other is 3,700 miles, from the NW tip of Washington State’s Olympic Peninsula, to Florida’s Key West. On my own circuitous route across the Lower 48, I’ve now walked this many miles. I’m ready to soon continue walking many more on the road to the White House!

Special tribute to my mother, Barbara, who was born on June 20, 1951.

Interestingly, two times during this Walk, I’ve seen big, bright falling stars– the only 2 times in my life that I’ve ever seen falling stars grow large and bright, lighting up a portion of the night sky. The first: February 14, 2010: the last day of my thousand-mile walk from home to Santa Monica, and the 35th wedding anniversary of my mom + dad. The second: June 20, 2011, final day of spring, and my mother’s 60th birthday. I was returning “home” from Katie Visco’s “Soupla,” in Austin. Katie, born just a few days before my mother passed away, ran across America in 2009. (I didn’t find out about her till I’d walked as far as Phoenix.) A vortex of powerful, positive energy, Katie is one of the very most inspirational people I’ve ever met…

My mother’s exceptional energy impacts my intuition throughout the miles.

Often, when in especially challenging situations (including this past weekend), I simply head outside, breath, look up at the stars, wait patiently, and the right answer will come to me.

The two sky-brightening stars I’ve seen on separate occasions have been affirmations to me that I’m on the right path, I’m meeting the right people, and I’m doing what I’m here on Earth to do ~

Happy Summer Solstice, Everyone!!!

Having spent the previous two nights in the desolate desert outdoors with Colin & Shay, walking our greatest amount of miles ever between water stops, on the dry, dusty and dirty afternoon of Sunday, March 14, 2010, the three of us reached a highway-side gas station/convenience store on the outskirts of Blythe.
It’s not uncommon for people to take notice of the signs I walk with: “WALKING ACROSS AMERICA”, spelled out in jumbo, reflective mailbox letters on the front & back. In smaller letters, “ENJOYTHEWALK.ORG” is spelled out on accompanying front + backs signs. Especially while “in uniform,” carrying these large signs across thousands of miles, I’m always enthusiastic to talk to people about the Walk. Despite any stares, however, I almost always leave it up to them to initiate any conversation (or not). Those who really wish to communicate will do so, one way or another…

Arriving almost gasping to this busy truck stop, I remotely remember the presence of an attractive young lady with a small dog near a gray Jetta in the side parking lot. Much more vivid in my mind is the van full of contemporary hippie youths with whom Shay rode forward the last 8 miles of the day—I knew the hippies were “her people,” and part of me wondered if she’d suddenly decide to journey onward with them. Since that day, there hasn’t been a single word of follow-up contact with the hippie van. Heather, however, the young lady with the dog, has since become a very special friend, and despite the fact that she and I have yet to meet in person, I feel a far stronger connection with her than I do with the majority of the people that I’ve actually met across the miles. Fascinating how these things work.

On Monday, March 15, 2010, the day after our final full day of walking across California, and stopping at the highway-side gas station, I received this letter from Heather:

Subject: I was born June 18, 1985

I don’t really know where to start, or if this even means anything….

I was in Blythe this afternoon as your and another male and female were strolling into the gas station with Subway, across from the country home cooking. I was outside standing at my gray jetta, parked by the grass with my puppy.

I was returning from a weekend trip to Arizona, at which I was picking up one of my best friends whom is from Vancouver and on vacation, and bringing her back to my home in San Diego. I saw the three of you and your signs and wanted to come say hello and ask why you were walking, but for some reason just didn’t. I saw your enjoythewalk.org sign and figured I could go to the website and my questions would be answered. Except when I did, I noticed that you were from Vancouver (if I read correctly), where my best friend that was in the car with me is also from. As I read along about your mother (rest her soul) I noticed that she passed on the exact day that I was born.

Strange coincidences? Small world? I’m not sure. I was hesitant to write you, cause I know how weird this may seem….but it keeps popping into my mind and I wanted to share it with you.

I hope you’re enjoying beautiful California, and hope to talk to you soon…..

All the best,
Heather Sullivan

A special new friendship was born that day, and continues to flourish as Heather and I have since kept in touch across the years and the miles. We’ve discussed many perspectives on life, including religion, spirituality, paradigms, outlooks, goals, etc., etc. In short: we ain’t just talkin’ ‘bout ball games…
Over a year into the friendship, the day before Mother’s Day, amongst other words, Heather wrote me this message: “…I know I never met her…but I’m thankful for your MOTHER, Mrs. Throop. Even after her life here on Earth… she has brought together an AMAZING friendship, and I am very thankful for that.”

Heather recently learned she is pregnant, and I couldn’t be more enthusiastic and elated for her and the growing expansion to her family. Heather is an especially sweet star in the sky, and I truly look forward to remaining in contact with her through the years and across the miles…

Happy Birthday, Heather Sullivan!!

May the Universe’s Infinite Light +  Love fill your heart and keep your soul strong through your every passing moment!!!

Selma March Historic Route

Today, just shy of 1,000 days since beginning the Walk (today is day #998), I follow the footsteps of Martin Luther King, Jr., and other Civil Rights heroes of the day, as I walk the Selma to Montgomery National Historic Trail into Montgomery.
The Selma to Montgomery Marches were three marches in 1965 that marked the political and emotional peak of the American Civil Rights Movement: http://en.m.wikipedia.org/​wiki/​Selma_to_Montgomery_marches

Many Thanks to the Roten Family for hosting me for a pair of nights in Hope Hull, Alabama.
The story of how I met them, indirectly, is fun to share:
Upon preparing for the Walk, in 2009, I did my share of online research of those who have walked across America or are in the process of doing so. BJ Hill had finished his Walk across America in the beginning of 2009, and had received great local coverage across the nation. BJ made national news on ABC  as well. Upon talking to BJ on the phone for an hour, asking him a long list of questions about my upcoming walk, BJ also advised me to talk to Garth Poorman, who had also recently begun his own pilgrimage, from NY to New Orleans. I contacted Garth, who gave me great advice.

We’ve all loosely stayed in touch across the miles.
Though it had been well over a year since I’d been in contact with Garth, Lee Peacock, a newspaper reporter in Evergreen, Alabama, was taking my story when he shared with me the story of a Christian man who’d visited Evergreen in 2009, as he was walking across America.
“Garth Poorman?” I asked.
“Yes!” Lee’s eyes lit up.
From there, I knew I had to catch up with Garth again.
On the phone with Garth a couple of days later, he told me he’d like to contact some of his former hosts–to see if they may wish to host me as well. Walking the opposite direction Garth did, I’d be unzipping almost his exact route from Evergreen to Atlanta. He soon sent me a list of names and contact info for all towns inbetween.
Many of the bases I’d already covered. Hope Hull, however, was an exception. I contacted Dustin Casey, his Hope Hull host, and was rerouted to their neighbors, the Roten Family.
Brian & Stacey Roten happily invited me into their lives for a pair of nights, before I proceeded into Montgomery itself.
They showed me the area, introduced me to friends and neighbors of theirs, and even took me to a local, multi-denominational Wednesday-night church service– which was a fascinating experience for me.
The Roten Family ended up being the only family who hosted me via the Garth connection–as many of the other blanks between Montgomery and Atlanta had already been filled in. We continue to stay in touch across the miles. Great People!

Had it not been for the severe thunderstorms, I don’t know that I’d have stopped even for a single day in Fort Deposit. However, the storms kept me there through three nights. What a beautiful blessing. I truly loved spending time with the Carlsons.

Thank You Pastor & Mrs. Carlson for a wonderful three-night hosting experience in Fort Deposit.

“Crashing” a funeral for the first time.
Of course, I didn’t know why the cars were there till I showed up.
After 10+ very early miles, I showed up to the United Methodist Church yesterday morning in Fort Deposit to seek shelter from much more severe storms that were said to be on their way. After answering their questions of what + when + where + how + who + why, they ultimately invited me in, fed me, housed me, and showed me around the area. I’ve been writing a much larger narrative to this story, and once I can enjoy more than internet on the phone, I’ll seek to place the longer story on the website. .
Four inches of rain have poured down since I arrived yesterday. In Gulf Shores, which I already walked through in Southern Alabama, the same storm system struck a boy with a bolt of lightning (he’s now in the hospital, in critical condition). Tomorrow may or may not be walkable…

I’m so glad I was kicked off Interstate 65 two days ago. Had I been able to continue walking I-65, I would have saved over three miles for the day. Walking across America, as soon as I figure out which points on the map I wish to walk through, despite how circuitous some of these points may make the overall transAmerica route, once I do plan the points, I typically always seek the shortest/fastest way to walk from Point A to Point B, to C, etc. The efficiency-conscious part of me speaks loudly when planning any given day’s miles, and I typically make serious efforts to not have to go any further outside my planned miles than I have to. (Like the restaurant cook who works the 12-hour shift, then arrives home with little or no motivation to start cooking again at home.)
The shortest way possible on Wednesday would have made for 16.9 miles, with over 80% of them being on the shoulder of the roaring I-65. Once booted off I-65 by Alabama State Patrol, suddenly the 16.9-mile day turned into a 20+ mile day. The daily status of my body was OK, and I knew I could make it, but at the time, I still would have rather opted for the shorter route. Only later did the beauty of the banished-from-the-freeway reality take hold. Walking ultra-rural Hank Williams Memorial Drive, passing through historic railroad communities such as Garland; feeling the carefree, car-free stillness and birdsongs; breathing the sweet sweat of surrounding flora; enjoying the sun-shading “hug” of large, shoulder-close trees, I found those final fourteen fabulous forest miles to thoroughly cleanse and refresh my soul & spirit. And I was better off sleeping outdoors that Wednesday night as well.
Though I still seek to avoid too many steps out of the way between Point A and Point B, I now find myself seeking out the more rural roads. (Though I’m sure to experience plenty more of it,) I’ve had my fill of the busy highway car-cophony for now. And I’m ready to at least add some extra steps to achieve a greater nature experience. Today, I’ve been invited to spend the night at the local Sherling Lake Campground. Not only does this shorten my miles and provide me with some rest for today, I’m also betting that tonight’s delightful dose of nature will further energize my spirit once again!

http://www.sherlinglake.com

Just a few miles shy of Greenville this afternoon, telling me that someone who’d seen me walking Highway 31 gave him a call, Andy Brown, of the Greenville Advocate, stopped to take the Walk story. We chatted for a good 20-30 minutes, and asI had no host lined up in Greenville, he called the local police chief for me to explain my story + “plight” of the night. The chief instructed me to go to the police station upon arriving to Greenville, and they’d be able to direct me from there. As I’m deliberately easy to spot, they recognized me on my way into town, and told me that via a local ministerial alliance, they’d organized a room for me at the local Jameson Inn. Wow– truly above and beyond the call of duty there! GPD Sgt. Miller arrived shortly after I did to fill out the necessary paperwork. After what ended up being a 19-mile day, and about 40 miles since yesterday, that first shower was too refreshing to attempt words. My body is likely to be calling for some rest tomorrow. But, I’m only granted one night here at the Jameson. So, we’ll see what happens…

Mood: Abundant Gratitude