Bay To Baie June 23, 2014 1,731.7 miles out from Mobile; 225.3 miles to Baie Comeau (about 200 miles north of Montreal)
"Southward Toward Home"
(and I ain't just whistlin' Dixie!)
Ok, here's the scoop. I'm way down the road from our last posting, regretfully ("regretfully" not because of the walking, but for having written so little along the way). The walking is going great, but the writing has tanked in recent months. I'll offer no excuses, save a busy schedule. We all have that, however, so I offer my apologies, along with a renewed and refined commitment to keep you posted.
The refinement involves this: Lord willing, and according to my present regimen, I'll arrive in Baie Comeau in less than a month. That's about 2 and ½ months ahead of schedule. So, I'm thinking I'll just turn around and come back, as it were, writing about a lot of the venues I've missed in the Northeastern parts of the U.S. Doubtless, there's some interesting places about which to write, and more importantly, from which to glean spiritual lessons and analogies. That's my plan, and I hope to write at least weekly in the months to come.
For now, I thought I'd bring you up to date on some developments that have taken place along the way (some I may have mentioned in previous posts). Most importantly, Frances now joins me on most of my walks. She started back in January, and passed the 700 mile point this past Saturday. She loves the journeys as much as I do, and having her with me adds a new and wonderful dimension to the endeavor. I get to see the sights through another pair of eyes, and enjoy the blessings and the challenges with another heart, namely, the one nearest and dearest to me. Even more, we both perceive that we walk as a trio, namely, the Lord, Frances, and myself, just as we seek to live the rest of our lives.
Frances joining me has also resulted in a new and fascinating possibility. For years, I have pondered the remote possibility of someday walking the Appalachian Trail, the nearly 2,200 mile trek between Georgia and Maine that spans 14 states, along with mountains, valleys, forests, and vistas of the Eastern United States. I never thought such a journey would actually take place. Frances, however, is now so enthused about the possibility that I think someday it might actually happen. We'll see, and it will doubtless be down the road a bit, ahem (!) if it is ever to take place.
I'm also coping with what I call an "injury of hypocrisy." Not long after I began "Bay To Baie," I wrote about walking having become my endurance activity of choice. I mentioned previous eras of running and cycling during my adult life, and the fact that I wisely gave those up due to chronic injuries they fostered. Not long after the entry, however, I went through a period when I felt so good walking that it seemed to me a little running wouldn't hurt a thing. It didn't - at first. However, I can still remember the moment when the tightening and pain of my plantar fascia in my right foot screamed at me. "Dummy, what do you think you're doing??!!! This hurts!!" Since that moment, I've dealt with the usual aches associated with plantar fasciitis, again, my injury of hypocrisy. If only I had chosen to abide in accordance with my own words… Dummy!
We're presently walking through a Mobile, Alabama late spring and summer. This normally means an excess of heat and humidity. The season, however, hasn't been too challenging. We did have an experience the other day, however, when we were caught in a rainstorm about a mile into our walk. Frances and I enjoy this when it happens, so long as lightning does not accompany the rain. The system passed pretty quickly, leaving in its wake the most humid late afternoon we've ever experienced. We made our way home in a literal haze of the wettest atmosphere imaginable. Living in the subtropics means that we are accustomed to heavy air. The humidity of this day, however, took the matter to a new level altogether. We pretty much swam to our house, feeling all the time that gills would have served us much better than lungs.
All this to say I'm looking forward to reconnecting with you on this journey. From the look of the Canadian map, there's not too many towns or outposts between our present location and Baie Comeau. I'll stay in touch nevertheless, and look forward to the journey southward toward home and far more consistent contact with you. Thanks for coming along.