over the top

three feathers

I began the day with three only
Tucked in my hat band
One, the last I found in Oregon
Two,the first in California
Three,the pretty one I found "down east" in Maine.
Walking through the Tolwa Indian Nation and the few miles to the river bridge my hat band is full. By no other standard, this is a good day.
As I approached the bridge a man stopped and asked me to wait bor him to go to town and get his truck so I can get safely across the narrow bridge. Since he simply appeared at the right moment, I accepted. I walked to the other side of the road to wait, there at the spot I crossed was another very large feather. A good sign.
It is probably not too long but traffic has been steady and busy. It is a good excuse to relax and enjoy my first day at the edge of the giants, the Redwoods.
The safe ride approaches...

daylight from Brookings to the border

I have been walking during the night the past few night but on my last day in Oregon the winds have died down, I think I can make ilthese last miles without getting in trouble over the pedestrian-fog line infringement law. Have a wonderful day Oregon. And Thanks for the memories!

Not just a bridge

It's the highest bridge in Oregon. We walked it around seven. Traffic was light so I had time for a few pictures over the side. The Thomas Creek Bridge at 340 odd feet is a birds eye view of the tree tops where mountain and sea meet. Some bridges are for walking. I'm glad I crossed this one on my own power.

Gold Beach

We left Ophir at twenty until one with 'nary a car or truck for hours. Though I was tired and aching we managed to get to the bridge into Gold Beach in time to pass without causing an incident. After meandering into town, having breakfast and coffee, I stopped at the grocery. When I came out the intercity transit bus was outside and heading back up the coast so I was able to retrieve the van, get a place to park for the day, nap awhile before getting a few new patches on the World. Now if I can get back to sleep I will start the long trek to Billings,or Brookings, they all blend together after a time which will take two days even without traffic and sunshine the entire way there..
This morning at the check out line at the grocery a man was there with his granddaughter. He was paying for the candy bar she had chosen. I asked her if she would like one of my oranges to go with the candy bar. She lit up with a smile and gladly took the fruit. The grandfather thanked me also.
Though I walked all night only being seen by trucks and a few early commuters I felt I had done something good giving the girl a better choice.
Once I get to California I hope to walk more in the daylight but for now I should conduct my disorderliness, for the most part at night.

"Touchy, feely" in the Dark

The winds had died down, we left at midnight. The only ones out and about in Port Orford were the homeless. The young man on a bike knew of a rest area by the beach with a shower. It wasn't time for that. The other man appeared standing on a wall over the beach. He had an even "dusty" hue, even under the parking area lights. He had a large box of food that he offered to share from. I was freshly loaded for the walk so he hefted it up on his shoulder and disappeared in the night. Few cars passed in the still moonless night. A few miles down the road we slowly came upon a flag crew under bright lights. They were sending traffic over the one remaining lane of the highway the ocean had not reclaimed. I scared the worker, in the distance the Antarctic flashed a white beacon against the lights as it rolled toward him. He knew of us and had seen us the previous morning but still was not prepared for the visual as we orbited close. We then walked down into Humbug canyon. Only the white line was visible most of the way through with the sound of rushing water on one side and the brush of rock and fauna touching my staff as I skirted the other. Walking the canyon at night is the only way to get the World past there without creating a traffic problem in my view. In the daylight the wind and heavy traffic make for slow going at times. We made ninteen miles before exhaustion had me stop at a bench at the Ophir rest center overlooking the beach.. Just before we stopped I had seen from the road a group of horse back rider in the distance walking along the beach. A short time after I had sat down. The handler of the horses came up with some children. He had led his horses alone the beach many times but couldn't figure why the horses become excited until he had led them back to cross the road and then saw us rolling closer. Once I explained my purpose, and my situation, he offered a ride so I could retrieve the van. I was very thankful, being so tired I was going to fall asleep there at the park table. The children watched the World until my "road angel" and I returned. I slept without interruption into the night. Now with just nine miles to Gold Beach the road is dark and silent. The scenery is different along the ocean in the dark of night, but not less beautiful to the senses. I'll get to see it later when I drive along at fifty miles "per".

Prime time

This part of the coast is apparently known for it's winds. They calm from late at night thru early morning. We got on the road under starlight. With no moon some places were pitch dark. We at one point walked up on what seemed like road kill 'till it moved toward us in a defensive manner so I whirled the World between us. We startled a few deer sleeping close to the road. The first two hours only two trucks and eight cars went by. On my drive to retrieve the van I was astonished at some of the. Would be hazards had I been walking in daylight. The wind is whipping now. We may do this again tonight out of Port Orford.
Have a Nice day.

Soul Searching in the Mythical State of Jefferson

After the "turn" in the road a calm stayed with me while I worked the World past the fork in the road to Coquille. Edging over the lanes I rolled along tight hand rails to stay on the south 101 to Bandon. Occasionally someone would stop, but most of the time a car would slow and a passenger would snap a drive-by shot as I held the World off the white line standing in a ditch or lumbering along washed out cliff edges of hard sand that much of this Oregon Dunes region seems to rest. Not a picnic, I wonder as they slow to almost a crawl as I strain to keep the World from rolling down a ravine and retired couples bear down on them in a motor home as big as a house pulling the V-W bus they travelled with "back in the lean years" that requires no special training to drive, to click a blurred photo through their tinted windshield. Some may pull off and wait for many minutes watching my progress to catch an image when I get close, then drive on without a word. If I have a spare hand I give them a wave but usually the white line,the wind direction, the angle of the road, the change in pressure and elevation as it effects the pressure of the World, has my attention. When someone stops I do my best to answer their questions, share my story and sometimes hear about their journey. Cross county bicyclists, cross the world bicyclists, homeless travelers, families on vacation or a weekend trip, local motorists or a soldier on a soul searching mission. The latter I met Saturday morning. As I rolled up he had pulled off safely, opened the trunk of his car to offer me food and water and saluted me upon my approach. He had driven 1200 miles "balls to the wall". I guess he just needed to stop long enough to have someone like me to tell him to slow down. I recommended the dunes; a man had told me the day before that a walk out in the dunes had a special mystical quality that he took advantage of when he needed to clear his mind. I told the soldier it's hard to find yourself at sixty miles per hour, that he was far enough from Salt Lake to calm down. After we parted I took my own advice breathing in the smells around me and feeling the soft bed of pine needles under my feet along the ditch line.
On the road you don't have to go far to find solace or revisit your demons. While calmly pressing forward I weaved through road construction barriers to a site where a slide had washed out a hillside. A weekend parade of large rock trucks filled in every few minutes to dump their loads down a steep outside bank turn bordered by concrete retaining wall, jersey wall. The boss-man allowed me to roll along the three foot foothold between the wall and the sheer drop to the fresh rip-rap far below. At moments like these I don't have the luxury of giving in to my crippling fear of heights.the World is depending on me to balance it along the edge to safety. At the days end a man and his grandchildren picked us up to save the World from the narrow bridge before Bandon. It was close to nightfall and he wouldn't stop until we got to his house at the edge of town. I had walked 19 miles or so. I complained with a wink and a smile.
This brings us to Saturday night. I am writing this on Monday. It took all day Sunday and until lunch on Monday to walk about fifteen miles. The Sunday afternoon travelers had time to stop and talk. Talk they did, and I talked back only making it half the distance to Langlois where I stayed the night at Art101, an organization that collects shore debris that washes up and makes art from it. We all should do our part to maintain the world. Monday had few visitors. People were commuting to work or driving back from the weekend escape. Just as I approached Langlois I was stopped by the county police. They had received more complaints of the man in the road with the World. Again I was informed about the state law that prohibits anyone, at any time from crossing the white line. A 24-7 imaginary wall to keep motorist safe from dangerous pedestrians. He thanked me for being so cooperative and I asked him to please send the word "up the line" that it is not my intention to be charged with disorderly conduct and if the flow of calls gets to be too much to let them know I will "cease and desist" if told to do so. After five thousand miles my being given a pass to skip to the California border after walking hundreds of miles in Oregon will not hurt my feelings. Time will tell.
This to shall pass.
Be calm, breath.
Don't look too far ahaead and loose sight of the step you take next.
Walk a little, for your health.

the Turn

We were walking with traffic, as a bike would, on an inside bank with no edge. We were rolling in the ditch when, at the sharpest part of the turn was a washed out portion of roadway, a bush to the edge of the white line and a reflective four foot high metal marker. Cars and truck blasted by in both directions, the noise from them all powering around this steep banked turn was tremendous. I stopped just feet from the obstacle I stopped to gather my senses. Next to my face, poking through the thick dark hedge was a vine's flower. I had to pause and get a picture with my phone. As I snapped I was reminded of a story. A man was walking in the jungle when he came upon a tiger who chased him to a cliff. His only escape was to climb down a vine over the edge. Once there he could not climb all the way down because at the bottom waited another hungry tiger. Then a mouse came along and began to nibble at a sweet spot on the vine that he held onto with both hands. Weakening he noticed a beautiful strawberry just few feet away. The most succulent fruit he had ever seen. "If I could just have a taste" he said to himself...


The road was then silent. I passed the turn alive and well.

The Bend, the Bay, the "once over".

It seems like random. The people we meet. The seemingly wrong turn that leads to an uplifting conversation. Someone stops in a parking lot giving the people inside long enough to come out of a business that leads to an offer for a safe place to stay. Random.

We left from the fire station in North Bend at a normal time of seven thirty with the goal to walk only the few miles to the south end of Coos Bay. We stopped for breakfast where a man who had taken a series of photographs of our ride over the bridge and our walk into North Bend to the station. He had made a disk of them along with some choice pictures made from paper, old school fashion. I had my hat off during the rodeo over the bridge when I held the World in the bed by it's strapping. That picture showed off the farmers tan on my 'noggin', white as a babe's buttom. I was worried I'd loose that feather I had found on the Spinreel Road I had tucked in my hat-band. Next time I'll the feathers fly. Don't get me wrong, I like my bald head, but from behind in the sun against a blue background I look like Uncle Fester's light bulb. It's bad enough I look like uncle Fester from the front. Never-the-nun-the-less I do appreciate that he took the time to save the memory and find me again and give them to me. I then had a delicious breakfast talking with the man who gave me a ride last night. Then as I walked toward Coos Bay I talked with all the ODOT workers who I'd met since last night. They happened to be repairing the roadway on 101. We made our way to the Coos Bay Boardwalk where I stopped to talk and get a picture by the arched sign when I was invited for lunch at the fisherman's seafood market then walked down the walkway along the Bay. There a man ran across several lines of railroad tracks and through a ditch to come talk to me. He had seen us on the local news. He had suffered the tragedy of diabetes in his family and had to come see me. I guess the take charge of your Movement-movement- love yourself by walking- idea is something everyone can get excited about.

I have to cut this ramble short. I am 21 miles to the next stopping place. I have spent the afternoon gluing and repainting the weather-worn World today thanks to the Vietnam Veteran who stopped me in the parking lot of Kelley's Accounting who came out and soon offered sanctuary for the World. Once I got the van moved up I spent the day with paintbrush in hand. I must take time to maintain the World.
Have a good evening. I rarely check what I have written. I hope it makes sense.

Another safe passage

Thanks to the Oregon DOT and OSP who were going to close the mile long bridge into North Bend for us to roll over. For the good of all I asked for a ride. By the time I would have made it over the bridge traffic would have been backed up for miles and walking every inch is not something that I would stubbornly cause hundreds to be bothered idling as I lumbered along. In the end Just a few autos had to slow to the actual speed limit over the bridge. The Odot worker who provided the ride helped us find a place to park for the night, after he got off work he took me back to Lakeside for the van and treated me to dinner and dog food for Nice (the dog). I can't thank him enough for his help or the authorities in charge for allowing me to safely pass.
Have a great day Oregon!

Over the Fog Line

Early this morning I walked the Spinwheel Road, the old highway before the bridge that spanned a valley. Only in case of emergency when traffic is diverted do today's tourists venture on this first glimpse of the Oregon Dunes where the pines grow righ to the sand that tower over them. The tracks from the recreational vehicles accentuates it's vastness. It was there ,my friends, I must admit I took Liberty with the road as only a few cars passed by, I walked the line with the World in one hand guided by a string and my trusty Dog, Nice (the dog), in the other also led by a string. With n white line to speak of, I walked the yellow. It was there a couple of "the ancients" passed and I'm sure I disturbed their regular drive to town down the "old road". Having little to do when they returned home but to call the authorities. When, after posing the World in the road with the dunes in the background and made my way back to the highway I was not surprised when a trooper showed up with one thing in mind. To make the reason for these calls to go away. Once we clarified what constitutes a breach of the peace and an act of disorderly conduct of any kind concerning the "fog line", I switched sides and rolled the World in the ravine with me walking the line, dog by my side walking on the line. Safer,by far.
I then met a man who had seen me the day before but today had time to stop. I happened that he had taken care his father during his struggle with diabetes. From that he changed his ways, lost eighty pounds, ate "like a squirrel" with many small meals daily, looked fit and muscular as the best I've seen. He is just what I am talking about. It takes time, it canhappen. Even with me perhaps.
I'll nibble on a snack and be on my way in my disorderly fashion.
Love yourself, walk a curb, it is fun.

Reedsport

The last sixteen miles of the picturesque road to Reedsport was clouded by a troublesome leak that reared it's ugly head when I got ready to leave from Wells Creek. A rip on the edge of the valve which I had glued long ago finally came loose. It was raining lightly and any attempt to fix it wouldn't hold. I put a "band-aid" of sorts on it with the contact adhesive and a piece of a plastic bag that held for the first four of the nineteen mile journey but each time I had to add air the tear became worse. The first few miles I added air at the mile markers by the road. Then it was twice each mile when I finally made it to town the battery was running down on my rechargeable pump and the hissing from the valve was getting louder. Every five or ten minutes I had to stop for air. A few blocks into Reedsport I met Guy who owns the motorcycle repair shop. When I explained my problem he offered to let me bring the World in the shop so I could clean the old goop and let the new set up overnight. It was a good thing because tit rained first thing in the morning and continued either misting or raining all day as I started down 101. The highway was narrow, not like 38 which Guy told me had once been voted the best scenic touring roadway in the nation, with guardrails on both sides in spots. We had ample room to pass along with the trucks, cars and cyclists. I had many stops talking to travelers from England, Sweden, Canada and more. The Coffee News of Reedsport and the weekly both had articles about us so the locals were enthusiast when they stopped to talk. I met a family from Louisianna who had seen us early this year who told me they had talked about seeing us and that it would be "cool" if they saw us on this trip. We got to Lakeside after the rainy day and some nice folks who were heading back to Reeedsport gave us a ride to Shemps (sp). I just talked to a ODOT supervisor who called ahead so the long bridge into Coos Bay won't be a problem.
Do try to get the blood flowing today. Not with video games but with actual exercise.

Scottsburg and it's bridge

Both run down and about to fall apart. I
I touched up some bare spot on the world but it rained last night making it all wet again so I was Faux finishing the highway on my way to Scottsburg. Now that we have crossed the bridge I need to get relaxed for this sixteen miles remaining along narrow roads. It will be fun.

Wells Creek

The fifteen or so miles from where I started on the edge of Elkton were not so hard. It's when there were cars tankers,loggers, chip trailers, motor homes,etc. that made the way interesting. One good thing about having to stop and hold the World on the edge of a precipice to wait for a clear path I get to relax and take in the beautiful scenery. I am convinced more each day that Facebook has begun to take away our ability to communicate. All people want to do is snap a photo and speed away, often without a "fair the well". Today, again, I met several people who are managing their diabetes with exercise being a large factor in control sometimes helping to eliminate the need for medications. I met a woman yesterday who looked out the window to see a big ball rolling up a steep hill. I was behind it at just an angle that she couldn"t see me. She ran out the door and up the drive all the way to the road before I appeared. She was so excited and happy to know what I was doing once she realized the World wasn't on it's own. Today she gave me a ride to the Pavilion where we began the day. It is fun to put a smile on someone's day. I sat for coffee with another woman who lives on the proprty that at one time was the boat works. It has a water wheel that still works, at leats spins, fed by water off the cliffs and hills above the home. By the river . It was also known a the $3 hole for it's public boat landing. I enjoyed hearing the history of the center of a community from forgotten days before moving downstream myself.
In the morning it's bridge running time and nineteen miles to the big city.
Keep walking!

Elkton

We left for Elkton just after four this morning after a relaxing evening at Drain. It was overcast with scattered sprinkles. There is a tunnel along the way, we got a ride on the back of a truck to be safe. The last person I spoke to last night was a diabetic. The first man I spoke to this morning had been diagnosed three months ago and by loosing now just a few pounds each month he is already lessened his medications and is using pool-aerobics to. Work his knees after surgeries have slowed him down. It was good to talk to both of them, two people who are taking control. One has lived withit for decades, the other for just months, both with the right attitude.
We were hardly into Elkton when I was given a crazy ride back to Drain. Then after I had lunch I walked out of town to the Elkton community education center where I will sleep. At least fifteen miles to the next little town.
Love yourself, take it off-road and work it out.

Down in Drain

We made our way to the Drain of Oregon just as the heat of the day set in. Now we are on the shady side of The Family Bowling relaxing. I have decided to head over to the coast to take advantage of the cooler temperatures while I can. In the morning we will start for Elkton. There is a tunnel I will have to catch a ride thru. One of those"pride can get you killed situations. I've walked a lot of miles, don't look too break any more records by walking every inch so taking a short ride for safety is permissible.
Have a fun weekend, walk a little.

Curtin is Closed

We managed to follow the railway for a short distance until it paralleled a short spur of the Curtin road a few the small town. If there were a short gravel passage from the Dead end of Longview and the end of the gravel tip of the Curtin road it would have made to trip much easier. No walking the hot rails or rolling thru brambles to get over the few yards to the one lane road. After a good night of sleep I have am up with the roosters across the road that have reemerged as US-99. Today we're going down to Drain.

Dead End

Apparently the one guy who knows the way through this little stretch is wrong. A man and wife who have lived here for twenty eight years don't know the way through. Unless..

taking the "Longview"

All day into town I asked the locals how to get past I-5 where US-99 dives into it. There is the shoestring road, part gravel and snaking through "wilderness", until one finally knew the shorter road through that begins with a turn posted Dead End. One out of twenty knew the way. Off to Longview Raod we go!

Goshen, Creswell

We left from the power lines Over the "old guys" shop as the sun rose above the transformers down two-lane. We have walked several days with high totals, we were both tender-footed. Creswell was not far so I took my time. I had to anyway because of high grass and watery ditch. The photographer from the local news met me early and soon returned with good news. She had talked to the Comfort Inn who gave us a room for the night. I could shower and Nice(the dog) could have a cool rest. When we had made our way to town we met with the editor, met or saw pass by many important locals, had a relaxing meal, posed for a few pictures before rolled to the hotel over the freeway bridge. I could tell I need a couple relatively easy days (less than the fifteen-plus we have been walking), I had a headache, one from being tired, a lack-of-sleep drunkeness. I spent the day wondering why I had posted my previous post concluding exhaustion my thoughts. What was I thinking?! Though we walked only six miles I was more tired than any day in the past week. I am very grateful for the generosity of the good people in Creswell for great timing when we need help. The helpful photographer-organizer-town mom also made contacts for the next town. All's well in Creswell.
Sore and tired as I am still it's less than ten miles today. That should be a breeze. Unless the breeze blows against the World.
Have a great day Oregon.

the "way back" file

Don't want to talk about the walk today, of the woman I met while getting a coffee who told me she went on vacation with her diabetic aunt to the Rose Bowl, had to do a lot of walking resulting in her aunt not needing her shots from the activity but when they returned home she would not keep walking. "Some people you just can't reach." I thought I might tell one of my most embarrassing days, not a moment but that's just too much writing. So here goes...suspended from school the day of a jazz band competition, father and teacher went to bat for me so I could play that evening. Had a drum lesson that day after school, there my dad surprised me and told me to pick out a drum set, he thought that ordering them would lift my spirits after such a bad morning, he wanted me to feel good for the competition that evening. After we returned home from the lesson my father said he had some thing to do and would see me at the band competition later. This was his usual pattern. When I arrived with another band member who drove with my little drum kit I had at school. The one I had played since I first began to play. The one that I had finally learned three jazz "feels", three jazz songs. When I arrived at the school gymnasium-auditorium I walked in the side doors in the corner by the stage wall. There, along the wall was a line of brand new cases filled with my brand new drum set. Not ever played, tuned or tightened. The bleachers were rolled out on the opposite side. The bleacher was filled with parents,family and staff from six schools all talking amongst themselves like you might imagine at any school function... A hush filled the room and all eyes were on me...then my father appeared insisting I put them all together and knock this competition "out of the park". I could only get him to settle for me to set up the few I needed to play what I knew. We had fifteen minutes make that happen. It was like a sudden death survivor puzzle trying to find the drums I could use (did I mention the new set had 13 drums, with cases and a large hardware crate with wheels filled with stands,etc?) for the competition. I. Was able to get them cobbled in some alignment similar to what I had been practicing with three minutes to spare...Then I hit them with a stick, the drum heads had not been tightened, never been played in the store. I could get better sound out of a five gallon bucket. There were so many things my mind was trying to process when it was time to play the three songs I had feebly mastered enough for my teacher (who hated me) to smile when I played. I started the first song second, the second song first and the last song first. I ruined all three songs. It was horrible. We came in last for the first time in my instructors career... My father had come with his girlfriend. They had filled his AMC-Hornet and her Crysler-Matador with all the drums to get them there. He handed me the keys to his ccar and said he would see me at home and he left. I had never driven a car. I was underage and never driven a stick-shift, never used a clutch. My band mates felt sorry enough to help take to my homewhat I couldn't get in the Hornet. I learned to drive only being able to see in front and to my left. I had never been on that side of town and had a bout five mils to get home. I stalled that car more times than I could count but got home where my band mate helped me get the drums out of his car and left without saying much. My father and I never spoke of that day. He let me drive the Hornet from that day on everyday for almost two years before I got a permit. I found out later my father had used money from an insurance settlement from when I broke my back as passenger in a car that hit a garbage truck head-on at sixty miles per in the fog, a bad day but not my most embarrassing day.
I walked through Eugene today all the way to Goshen. I put shoes on Nice (the dog) during the heat of the day. Met some good and friendly people today. Many encouraging stories.

Sunday,Monday

Walking to Monroe the shoulder went from just enough to sharp steep and none existent. I felt at times like a bull fighter with the World as my red cape. Especially when one couple stopped for a moment then turned around again and again for questions and picture while other cars tried to pass. It was comical how they kept getting in the way of traffic again and again while I balanced the World on the edge of the line unable do more than stand there and watch the scene play thru. We did well to get to Monroe before the heat but to get to half of a mile though town took a long time as we. Skirted from shaded spots until we got to the tiny park at the edge of town. With the narrow road and it being Sunday where most were concerned for either the weekend drive or were on there way to and fron churh I had to rely on the good graces of the couple who helped me the day before to give us a ride to the van in Covallis. I was tired from two nights of staring at four A.M. But I knew if I was going to get past this narrow stretch of highway I needed to begin even earlier. A county officer came to check on me after dark and gave me advice for the old river highway. I beagn walking at the stroke of midnight to avoid the night shift logging trucks on 99W and enjoyed use of the whole road under moonlit country road. Instead of burning sun I had the cool reflections off the moon and the occasional mist of irrigation from the sprinklers in the fields. The only visitor I had was when I was an opossum who didn't notice I was sitting in the grass with Nice(the dog). The big ball must have intrigued him. He didn't play possum though, his hissed and crept back to the barn across the road. As it became closer to dawn I could hardly walk from being so tired so I lay down by some trees for a twenty minute power nap outside of Junction City. It energized me enough to get into a store for some coffee. It was still cool so I ventured on past Junction City into the greatwide open and wide shouldered 99S. I asked myself why I kept going and soon started to look for a tree to crawl under. I stopped at a diner/ cattle auction house for some breakfast. There I was given a tourist map and directions to a city park on the north side of Eugene. I was on side roads but with lite traffic I made good time and people tended to have time to ask what I was doing. Each state is different and Oregon has a lot of people who like to take pictures on their phones, smile and drive on. A face book phenomenon. On of those who stopped me and talked also called the news so I had an interview while I walked. The reporter put a microphone on me and I walked for a long way concerned about breathing to load or saying something bad as I jumped on and off the road whole cars passed, or were too cautious to pass even when we were fully off the road. A man and his son who talked while I was on camera later came and rode us to Monroe arriving just as I got close to the city park. He gave us a bag lunch and dog treats. We had a good conversation on the way there and I am grateful he went "out of his circle" to help. He said he'd never done that for a stranger before. I returned to the World I had tied to a tree and did my best to sleep despite the heat. I did get a little shut-eye before the sun moved behind the trees. I awoke drenched in sweat. But feeling able to do a small amount of maintenance on the World. An Eugane policeman was at the park making a crime investigation. One that occurred while I slept. I let him know I'd be there overnight and got a little info on how I may best cross the city. Getting a good night of sleep I kept waking up to the Eddy Money song "power of love". I plan to walk a short distance today. Not like the past three day where I walked over fifteen miles each day. Also as I got up and went to the facilities at the park a young woman was sitting on the sidewalk, she was tired cold and hungry so I gave her some of my bagged lunch a pair of socks. She had lost all her things in town (stolen) and is making her way home to her parents two towns north. I have never offered a place for a nap but while I write this and prepare for the day she fell quickly asleep on the bed in the back of he van snug under a blanket with Nice (the World's guard dog) for protection. When I told her he would protect her, or any woman from harm she fell directly to sleep. I hope when she ends the day she will be safe back to her parents home. While she ate she said the World is full of ugly people.. and a few good people. There are more good people than she thinks, I think.
Keeping the movement moving! Save a life, see the World, enjoy a walk.

Sleepless in Eugene

We left at midnight from Monroe to beat the heat and the traffic. A county officer directed me to the back roads and to my delight in four hours I saw two cars and a truck. Weary from three days over fifteen miles I must rest.

Nice walk...

We left the state park at four in the morning and followed the old road until it converged with the new old 99 just as it became light enough for us to be seen. We humped it into Corvallis getting to town just as the heat of the day set in. We walked. To downtown stopping for shade many times. A young couple called as we walked through town and offered to help later in the day. Once I got to the Fire Department downtown where noone answered the door I asked at a few places not getting a safe feel for leaving the world while I got a ride fifteen miles away so I opted to deflate the world for an afternoon so I could drive to Albany and get my phone serviced and then clean my pile of dirty clothes. The sweet couple invited me for dinner and a shower. I then went back to 99, fouund a place that would let me park, reinflated (blew up) the World, glued a few spots that inevitably come apart when I let the air out and crush it in the van. I may have skipped a couple miles but my van doesn't smell of dirty clothes and blankets, my phone will now again send photographs, I too am clean. Well worth the time I would have spent getting to this spot. If I can again get going early we can get half way to the next town before it gets hot.
Thanks to all the people who have been there for us going out of their way to keep us safe.
Now I must get some sleep for the early start.

The bike path to Monmouth from Rickreall was a welcome sight with only two joggers , seven cyclists and one on roller-blades were all I had to contend with. The wheat fields and wild rose pouring onto the path that runs along beside the highway were the hardest obstacles to avoid. Only one person stopped to talk from the thousand cars and trucks. A woman about my age who, after I told her I was walking to help show walking can help control, prevent or turn around diabetes, enthusiastically agreed. She was walking two miles during the weekdays and getting seven to nine miles in on the weekends saying it makes a world of difference for her. She said you can diet but nothing gets those toxins out like exercise to keep her diabetes in control. As I reached town I had to stop to pour the wheat harvest from my shoes. I stopped at J's 99 Grill, it looked like the place in town that serves everybody who is anybody in town. I like to find the place where the patrons come to eat while solving the difficult questions facing the World. For the first time since I was given my "Gen-you-wine ruff and Tuff big Texas" cowboy hat I swung through a set of cafe' doors to the grill. Blame it on those "spaghetti westerns". The air inside smelled like a grandmothers' kitchen cabinet sour with the oils of a thousand meals. There I was given a phone number to call for a man I met yesterday as I walked by his job sight on the pipeline. I made my way down the old 99's route for a few more miles to a small state park. While I walked along I came upon two men fishing over a small bridge with just a guardrail spanning the creek. One was walking back a forth tending his poles, the other at first looked from a distance like he was sick. He was a very large man bent over the rail laboring to even breath. His large shirt hardly covered the underside of his belly. His shorts had no chance of covering his "plumbers" crack. His exposed calves rippled with cellulite and were larger than my own fat thighs. He never raised up or did more than turn his head my way and looked as if he was weary from standing. I left it alone and walked by. The man who gave me a ride brought his son who , during the ride back to Rickreal said he had seen a man in the gas-food mart who had to be over for seventy five to five hundred pounds getting a pile of suger filled drinks and snacks. I asked about the clothes confirming that it was the man fishing. The young man said he would have felt for him had he not had so much on the counter. He left it alone too. As I rolled up I saw a great view of a huge old bird flying along the tree by the river and all afternoon I heard the cackle of the bald eagle in the trees close bye. I hope to leave early in the morning to get our walking in before the heat. During the hot summer days this will be our pattern, to start early and end in the early afternoon. It is sixteen miles to the next city and if we don't get there early we will spend a lot of time under some shade tree by the highway.
I don't mind repeating... It's a Movement-movement. Love yourself, go for a walk.

Rickreall

The sky was clear as we walked the "baker's dozen" from Amity. While strolling from shade tree to shade tree along the road we passed miles of new gas pipeline construction, progress. As always many who stopped to talk were diabetic, too many. We had hardly passed Rickreall's signpost when a man walked from his home and offered to help. After we got the van parked by his driveway and had some homemade hummus made with a substitute from the garden, zucini' (I can't spell). I was asleep well before dark and slept well. We probably will not walk over ten miles today as we are getting used to the increasing heat. Nothing like the east's heat wave but it is getting hotter.
Enjoy the day, maybe have a walk to take in some fresh air and scenery.

Amity

Nice(the dog) was in no mood all day for anything but laying down (and protecting his World). We were hardly out of the college parking lot when he wanted to lie in the grass for the first time. I was patient with him. I had taken him through some bad spots the past few days. We were at the edge of Amity when we met a family who has a lot by their house for us to park overnight. It was next to the school where the fireworks were. I touched up the world, had a nice dinner then Nice(the dog) and I fell asleep before the last fireworks had gone off. I was up before dawn but we didn't get going until six thirty. We've walked about six miles in the sun going from shade to shade this morning. Nice is feeling better as long as we go at his pace as much as I can. We obviously have a good working relationship to get this far.
It's time for us to leave this shade tree...

Doggy Nap

When Nice (the dog) doesn't feel like walking the best thing I have found is to find a spot and let him get some sleep. I have a good view of the trestle we just ran under and have place to sit on a guardrail in the shade where if someone has to pull off the road they can. It is a holiday, I can relax a little. There is,however, a sharp smelling dead thing up wind...

The Right of Way, the Wrong Way and By-way

Out of Newburg the road was wide enough where I didn't have to walk in the ditch-line. When we got past Dundee that changed, the edge was too narrow and the ditch was more of a steep trench. The railroad tracks looked inviting. I checked the GPS and saw it ran with the road for a long stretch with the occasional drive or road intersecting. Morning traffic was heavy so I jumped on the "right of way" and hopped down the tracks. It's more of a dance, with the uneven ties of varied age from new to crumbling. At each crossing I would check to see if the road widened before going on. Everything was going well when I came upon a trestle. It didn't look very long, the cross ties were close together, I had a good view of the line each way but when I got high over the water the view gave me flashes of vertigo while I watched my step. On my walkman radio the song """Locomotion" encouraged me, keeping my rhythm and my brain from reverting to my childhood fear of heights. "Come on everybody, do the locomotion with me.". At my next opportunity I went back to the ditches, thorn scrubs, fast cars, ever stronger wind in our faces and road-kill. I ran a tight bridge or two and made my way to a bypass around most of McMinnville with a wide shoulder where we could all walk without having to balance on a fine line twixt' death and the briar patch. With the long and straight bypass that turned just enough we made up some pace until we got to the well groomed grass in front of the airport where Nice (the dog) flopped down for a rest. I didn't mind, I was ready to let the wind cool my wet back and give my legs a moment. We were about to go after I had some fresh cherries and Oregon Hazelnuts I had gotten from a nursery we passed earlier when the city police came in response to a call. I had been stoped by a State trooper a half of a mile back so we deduced some concerned citizen was calling in the calvary. The county officer drove by just as I got going again but didn't stop. They were the only cars that I'd seen all day. He came by just as I was frantically waving to someone who had stopped in the middle of the road to snap a picture with cars barreling down on them. I guess he saw my animated frustration, there was a wide emergency lane to do that in a safe way.
I did not get far past the airport when I found a place to stop and our ride to relay the van appeared. A warm and happy working mother.
It's getting late in the morning so I must get going to get some miles in before the Forth of July celebrations get too rowdy.
Have a sane and safe Holiday. Oh, and enjoy your walk.

Tigert to Newburg

Leaving the van in the parking lot we walked south on 99. Early we came to a "jersey" wall dividing the narrow pedestrian walk. I had to balance the world atop the wall that was very, very long. I bobbled once when someone slowly paced beside us but kept the World in control the full length. " The main thing is - don't get excited!" I talked to an officer from one of the four or five small cities we walked past. He gave me a patch. I stopped at the Sprint store to see how I could again send pics to Facebook. No luck. I had loaded the newest version two weeks ago and have not been able to share the sights. Apparently the link to my FB page from here is broken too. Oh, woe is me! How will I go on without a complete facebook experience? I met a man who offered his home as a stop for the night. At the time he said he was 3 miles away.6 would be closer to accurate. I had to push up a long hill then push down the longer opposite side because the wind was blowing so hard. The walk to my host's house was laborious from then on. I finally made it and after getting back with the support van I got a shower. It felt so good I fell quickly to sleep. This morning I will keep walking in this beautiful cool Oregon weather.
Love yourself, go for a walk.

The power of Fingerpaint

Yes, the previous post was a cry for help. I almost didn't post it thinking I should give Portland a chance. It's not only Portland but all large cities people live in a rush. I was pacing myself for a long steady walk through the night when I got a call from a woman (road angel) who saw the worldguy.org tags I crudely have painted on the world. She looked it up, read my last post prompting her and her husband to action. They came to give us a ride to the north side of Portland. Thinking I was just letting off steam turned out to be a cry for help. Thanks to Karla!

the big busy city

In the cities people are way too busy. Time for a picture. Little conversation. I may have to walk until I am out of the metro area of Portland just to find someone for a ride, or perhaps a cab. The folks in Portland are enthusiastic enough and still distant. I need to have patience. Or maybe I need to walk all night.

Scappoose to Portland

Overcast all day with a little rain when we got closer to the city. I don't mind a little sprinkles. Will take it over a hot sun. I will enjoy it while I can. It is hot over most of the nation. The first person who stopped was nice woman, we talked for awhile. She even gave me her number in case I needed a ride. As I was leaving she recited a list of friends and family with diabetes. I have met few who have no one in their life who does not suffer from it, heartbreaking. Along the river the shoulder was tight with a high retaining wall and a few feet to the white line. The dirt and grime built up on the soggy world. I passed the St. Johns bridge, the Golden gate-mini as I was told by a father who stopped so his tiny children could say hello, along industrial buildings and train tracks. A young man asked if he could make a portrait of me with his camera, that I was probably asked that all the time. Actually he was the first ... Everyone else takes a picture, I felt special, really I did. Like my father once said, "It's the presentation. When serving toast, make it pretty." I passed Linnton, the last row of business for miles. The world was already wet and dirty so I kept walking. Out of the corner of my eye I saw some people waving me over from a dead end side street across from the industrial side by the river. Before I could finish the meal they served from the family gathering we were swept back to Scappoose and parked on the street overnight. The rains moved in just after I got settled lasting all night. Not a hard rain but constant. Still amazed at the help I get, the perfect timing.
Now the mist has lightened so it is time to get my things together and find my way through downtown Portland.
Find a few minutes, walk.

A finish

Start with that fresh off the line gleam.
After a time the wax melts. True color, bare to the sun.
Red fades pink, purple matures violet.
Dirt and grit blast, wind and storm buff, nick, fleck.
Bump, brush, trip, fall.
Gladly join to your color, patina... your finish.






Shine.