Host Rashida Alisha + her many friends come together for an "Adult Orphan Christmas" in Houston. I call it the "Adult Orphan Christmas," because I believe everyone (or almost everyone) who attended was not originally from Houston, and for a variety of reasons, was unable to spend Christmas with family members out of town. So, I absolutely LOVED Rashida Alisha's use of the occasion to invite so many splendid souls together to enjoy a very loving Christmas with one another!

Many Thanks to Rashida Alisha, pictured in bright green…

I didn’t leave the Parker household, in Katy, till about noonish. Theresa’s daughter, son-in-law, and grandson had arrived from San Antonio during the morning, and it was thoroughly enjoyable to be able to spend some time getting to know them before hitting the road. Having moved here decades ago from Gary, Indiana, Theresa gave me some tremendously helpful advice regarding how I would be able to best arrive to today’s destination, Houston’s Woodway & Voss, home of hosts JB & Glauce, with whom I’d be spending the next three nights. (Link: Today’s Route.) I left Katy, and entered Houston via the nation’s sixth largest city park, George Bush Park, which, covering nearly 8,000 acres, is nearly ten times the size of New York’s Central Park. I walked a handful of miles atop a 20-foot-tall dike on the northern and eastern perimeter of George Bush Park until reaching Briar Forest Drive, an arterial that added a mile or two to my day’s travels, but featured a sidewalk for the vast majority of its span. According to the Houston Chronicle, Houston ranks 8th nationally in most dangerous cities for pedestrians, one of the main reasons being a paucity of sidewalks, and especially given that I’m pushing a hundred pounds of possessions across the country with me, it’s definitely worth it to go a bit out of my way to find that friendly sidewalk.
Despite maintaining a smile as I was completing a 17-mile day into Houston, a noticeable cramp-like pain began developing just below the ankle of my right foot as I was stepping into this massive city. It’s not uncommon for innocuous little cramps or pains to appear here or there, and for the most part, I simply push right through them– they’re usually gone within a few minutes. That said, some pains will sometimes also choose to last a little while longer. Today’s foot pain definitely fits into that latter bracket; the pain grew steadily over the last half of the day’s miles.
Jeremie, a polite 23-year-old French man whom I’d met over a week ago on Hwy 71, near Fayetteville, lived in Houston, and suddenly decided to come and join me for the day. Jeremie was coming from the opposite end of the Houston metro area, and didn’t have his own transportation, so we had to rely on our phones over the course of the day to find and meet each other. Instead of taking public transportation, Jeremie hitch-hiked his way to me, and walked the last 4-5 miles till our paths converged. By the time we met, we both were within five miles of the Woodway & Voss intersection where we’d be meeting JB & Glauce. Jeremie is a sharp guy, and I really enjoy his insights and companionship. That said, he also didn’t have a way home for the night, nor any specific plan on where he’d be sleeping. Having recently come off a three-month road trip across America with a friend, Jeremie was broke. As Jeremie’s fun appearance arrived all of the sudden during the day, I hadn’t told my hosts I would be arriving with a friend. I informed Jeremie that even though I’d been on the phone with Couchsurfing hosts JB and Glauce for well over a week, we had yet to meet in person. We were all soon to meet at the Pei Wei Asian restaurant, close to their home. Knowing Jeremie had no solid plan for how to end his day, I informed him that I’d not feel comfortable suddenly adding someone new to the hosting request I’d made weeks ago, and I asked him to not ask JB & Glauce to be hosted. He nodded in agreement. Though it’s true that the experienced road traveler Jeremie is, and he’d probably host anyone in a heartbeat, he also understood that not everyone is a seasoned road traveler– nor are they comfortable inviting just anyone in off the road on the fly.
We met JB & Glauce at PeiWei late– at about 9pm. We all immediately hit it off really well. JB & Jeremie enjoyed chatting in their native Française. Glauce and I talked a bit in português as well. We stayed nearly an hour, till they closed. As we were headed out, I asked Jeremie if he had any plan.
“Maybe a nearby church?” he asked me.
I pointed to JB & Glauce, who’d best be able to point out to him which churches were in the area. Jeremie then uttered something to JB in French, JB nodded in approval, and we all just proceeded to their classy apartment for the evening. Jeremie had obviously asked JB if he could stay with him. The vibe was good, so I didn’t meddle.
I was hobbling upon arriving to Pei Wei, and the kind friend Jeremie had stepped in to push my cart for the last couple of miles, which really helped me a lot. An hour or so later, when we were all to walk the last mile together, my foot wasn’t feeling any better, and as I limped alongside in pain, the guys not only pushed it all the way for me– they carried it upstairs to the second floor apartment. Wow! What a tremendous help!
JB & Glauce set up two sleeping spots in their guest room, and though we’d be up a while longer, we ultimately settled in to a very rejuvenating night’s rest…

JB & Glauce, Houston, Texas

14 miles into the marathon, I checked my phone and e-mail for any possible late messages that may’ve come in from Sealy. I’d written to the Chamber of Commerce, the only two local motel contacts I could find on line, and a handful of churches (with on-line e-mail addresses). No response. It was time to make some phone calls.
I did a search for “churches” on Google Maps, and over a half dozen dots appeared on the map. I started calling from west to east, just as I’d be arriving. First up: the Lutheran church. I got a machine and left a message. Next: The Shepherd’s Way Church. TSW answered live and in person. I explained my project and request (for a safe place to camp or floor space in the church in which to sleep) to the nice lady who answered, and she asked me to hold for the pastor. After three minutes, I hear a charismatic southern voice in my ear: “Hello, this is Pastor Lucas.”
“Hello Pastor Lucas, my name is George Throop. I’m currently on a Walk of Inspiration Across America, from my home state of Washington to Washington, D.C. The Walk is designed to inspire to live healthier lifestyles, and thereby reduce the risk of developing cancer and other chronic diseases. I’m nearly 3,000 miles into the Walk, and the reason I call you today is because I’m currently walking the marathon distance between Columbus and Sealy. I’ll be arriving to Sealy this evening, and I’m simply searching for a safe spot to place my tent or possibly floor space within the church to sleep overnight before continuing east tomorrow…”
“Well I’ll tell you what, how about we get you a motel room here in town– that way you can shower and sleep well overnight!”
“Wow– I really don’t need that much. Floor space somewhere would work great.”
“We got a ministerial alliance here in town, and we’d love to do this for you.”
We continued in conversation for a few minutes, and he told me that I simply needed to arrive at the church before 8 PM to receive the voucher from him (he lives 17 miles away).
“I’m a mile away from exit 709– putting me at 12 miles away from you. It’s 3:30 now, and I’ll definitely make it there before 8 PM.”
Well, though a nice, hour long break would have been nice after 14 miles, I had to return the road immediately so that I could make it to The Shepherd’s Way Church in time.
I showed up at 7:30 PM to a very warm welcome from Pastor Frank Lucas. We sat chatted for over an hour, about life, about spirituality and Scripture, and about listening to the “God Compass” within us.
Pastor Lucas gave me a voucher for a room at the Super 8 motel, and a meal voucher at Tony’s, the local truck stop restaurant– where I stopped short of finishing the greasy football’s worth of grateful food they piled onto my plate.
Though I was very ready to spend my one night in Sealy without any mattress, I’m now nestled in a warm motel room as the chilly, glove-wearing day dips into a 27-degree night.
Thank You God

Once again, I’ve returned home for the memorial service of a passing Grandfather. This time, Grandpa John, my maternal grandfather. Grandpa John lived a long, productive life, staying busy with fishing and other hobbies well into his 80′s.

Grandpa John was a good man, well respected by his community, and well loved by his family.

I ended up staying home for 8 weeks, in which I caught up with family, performed volunteer work locally, walked in new-to-me places back home, and prepared myself for my Eastern Chapter of the Walk of Inspiration Across America, now that the barren, remote desert miles were behind me ~

Grandpa Fehr and Family at Christmas, 2008.

Granpa Fehr with daughter Shirley (right), and Cheri (left), Shirley's lifelong best friend

Stephen & Veronica’s wedding, this evening.
We met hundreds of miles ago, as I was walking lonely Texas highways. My signs were spotted, and the car turned around and came back to me. We’ve maintained contact ever since. They live in Austin, and as I’ve been staying in town in recent weeks, we’ve met up multiple times. What a wonderful wedding– I’m soooo very happy for them both!
Congratulations, Stephen & Veronica!!!

Congratulations, Stephen & Veronica Miller!!

Meeting up with Katie Visco today.

Katie ran across America in 2009, finishing in December. Even though I’d reached Phoenix on foot before even being aware of her (spring 2010), watching her interviews quickly made her one of the world’s most inspiring people to me.

Katie & I have been in contact for over a year, and upon arriving to Austin on foot today, I’m absolutely thrilled to have finally caught up to her in central Texas! She & I are going to do some hanging out before I leave this town…
The broader message of self-empowerment Katie delivers has not only been enormously inspiring to me as well as to many, many others… See Katie’s story at paveyourlane.com.

Goldthwaite.
After a short afternoon stroll of about a dozen miles yesterday, I stepped into Goldthwaite, population 1,800. Anita, a friendly community denizen, stopped aside the local grocery store and invited me to her nearby church movie and potluck. Sincerely thanking her for her invitation, I informed her that as it was nearly 6 PM, I first needed to find a place to stay for the night, for as has been the case with so communities I reach on foot, I’ve arrived with no one awaiting me– or so I believed. Pastor Reece Bishop from the Mullin church, who’s been so helpful to me since the very first handshake, recommended the First United Methodist Church’s Pastor Carlos Cloyd to me. Reece told me he’d attempt to contact Carlos, but that with only an office phone number, he wasn’t sure whether or not he’d reach him (or even if Carlos was in town). Reece also told me that he’d attempt to contact Butch and/or Doug at Goldthwaite’s Baptist Church. So, I began the search for shelter by following up on Reece’s recommendations. In the meantime, Anita told me she’d check out a possibility with some friends of hers, local nursery owners. This was to take her only ten minutes, and she told me she’d meet me at the Baptist Church.
The Baptist Church was closest, and the appearance of a couple of cars in the church parking lot appeared promising. The church itself was locked up, and despite the side door to their adjacent office being unlocked, my act of stepping in and loudly calling out yielded no responses. Anita had returned to the Baptist Church just as I was ready to move on to the FUMC. She told me that due to the prevalence of rattlesnakes on their grounds, that her nursery owner friends didn’t wish to be liable in the case that I was bit while camping out. Their decision was satisfying to me too. On to the FUMC, I figured.
Anita showed me the way to the FUMC, and as she was familiar with Carlos, she also explained the corner house in which Carlos lived, close to the church. A ten-minute stroll through the quiet & quaint Texas town took me past the little brick firehouse library to a large stone FUM Church. Finding Carlos’ home, I twice knocked on his door before returning to the church block. Nestled downhill and behind the church itself, the church’s office building had half a dozen cars parked out front– a good sign for a freshly arriving pilgrim. I stepped into the office to hear a serious, active meeting in progress in a conference room at the end of the hall. I stepped back out. I didn’t care to interrupt any “serious” meeting to sidetrack their business for my five minutes of story and request. I decided to wait outside the front office door, close my eyes, and patiently await my next course of action. I’d already scoped out the area: the sidewalks and/or grass of the church would make for an excellent camping area. The evening low was to reach 45 F, and there were many spots between the brick walls which would provide shelter from prevailing winds. One option was to simply return after dark and quietly set up camp, which is something I typically only do when arriving after bedtime to a town. (I did this late Saturday night outside Early’s Baptist Church.) As long as I’m not seen, I can’t be told “no.” But, as it’s most respectful to officially seek permission from the pastor/church staff, and as this option has proved itself far more fruitful across the miles for all parties, I remained outside the office’s front doors, eyes still closed, meditatively contemplating what to do next. Daylight hours were quickly ticking away. Intuition signaled that awaiting the meeting’s participants would work out best. Still outside, I suddenly heard the meeting room erupt in laughter, from inside and all the way down the hall.
“Now!”
Showing up unexpectedly, blindly, and perhaps unwelcome to a room full of people in an important meeting could truly bring an undesirable outcome. However, if that room has just erupted in laughter, then you’ll be walking into a room full of happy, enthusiastic smiles.
I opened the front office door just as a powerful laughter-shock followed the initial happy group eruption down the hall. This was getting better by the second. Twenty fast steps later, I stepped inside their conference room door, still outfitted in my traffic vest uniform, and with a ready-to-show, recent Brownwood newspaper article in hand. All eight people in the room looked up at me with the happiest, most enthusiastic eyes imaginable.
My search for a simple sidewalk space of safe shelter resulted in my being given a room at the local Redbud Inn, compliments of the FUMC. Carlos, who was in the meeting, had received Reece’s message, and had been expecting me. Carlos is every bit as cool as Reece described him to be, and he invited me to return today to speak with a local council of ministers about the Walk. This may translate into an after-bedtime arrival to Lometa tonight (20 miles away), or to another night in Goldthwaite, but as outreach of the message of inspiration is the primary aim of this walk, one in which simple logistics consumes the lion’s share of my “free” time, I’m very enthusiastic to meet and speak with the group.
Sixteen hours into it, the good times in Goldthwaite continue…