In Gibbon, Nebraska in the R&R convenience store, Ivey told me she had started out having a terrible day and then she saw my sign earlier in the day. She said she was going tell a friend of hers who was having a hard time of it about me and my sign! Larry, a retired mail carrier who now works for the Stehr Museum of the Prairie Pioneer near Grand Island, Nebraska, as a tour guide, filled my ears with all kinds of neat historical stuff. Did you know that nearly 90% of fatalities for the early settlers in that area did not occur from Indian attacks, but from accidents! And most of those were from guns! These settlers were for the most part, from bigger cities in the east and not accustomed to having to hunt for their own food and sooooo…… they were shootin’ themselves instead of the bunny wabbits. Larry told me of a free campground provided by the city of Aurora, Nebraska and so I took advantage of that for sure! It was wonderful! There was electricity for my laptop and phone, and restrooms. Best of all, there was a McDonald's across the street. I call their $1.00 double cheeseburger, McFillet Mignon… beats the hell outa’ Ramen noodles! What really stood out in Aurora’s campground, a total lack of any apparent vandalism, not even any graffiti… not even in the restrooms!  

At The Eagle, a convenience store at the intersection of I-80 and U.S. route 6, an employee told me her boyfriend had just recently lost his daughter to suicide and said she was going to give him my card and ask him to call me.

Near Nebraska City, a gentleman pulled his old truck up beside me and asked, “And just what may I do for you, how may I help you?” He was smiling big, told me his name was Robert and that he was a Christian and it was his obligation to help those in need. I told him I really needed nothing but if he would be so kind as to direct me to the local McDonald's, I would be much obliged. Robert told me he thought a subway sandwich would be much better for me and that I could get a foot long sub for only $5.00. I explained to him that I was a low budget operation and the McFillet Mignon was more in my price range. Robert then insisted on driving me over to the subway and purchasing a foot-long sub for me. We talked for awhile and during our conversation, he never one time asked of my religious beliefs. He did keep asking me if I needed anything else though.  All you other Christians out there…. please take note, if you are bent on giving something, don’t give me a religious tract, a sermon, or a Gideon New Testament with Psalms. None of the above are edible…. offer a friggin’ sandwich. If one dies from hunger they can’t be converted to anything, now can they? Robert was really cool and was following the teachings of Jesus…. he was administering love. “Kindness is the shadow of God in man.” Kahlil Gibran.

I have never walked through a state which showed more devotion to a sports team than Nebraskans show for their beloved “Huskers” football team! Every house, every business, and nearly everyone’s clothing is marked in some way with something denoting allegiance to the “Huskers”!  Whatever… Go Gators!!!!!!

There is an abundance of grasshoppers this year and they jump around in front of me by the thousands. Did you ever notice that they really don’t jump very well, they crash land on nearly every jump! They jump out of the way really fast, they jump really high, but when they land they fall over. It’s funny as hell…. have I been out here too long? And grasshoppers are cannibals, I couldn’t believe it! And they will start eating on a fellow grasshopper when it's only injured and not dead yet! I guess they get injured a lot ‘cause of all the crash landings? I see lots of them missing legs. I actually try to avoid stepping on them, don’t tell the farmers... I have been out here too long haven’t I?

 I did 18 miles of Iowa and so I have now officially walked through every state in the lower 48! Thank you, thank you, thank you very much. 

At the Pamida store in Tarkio, Missouri, I was walking around in the store trying to figure out how to buy stuff to keep me warm on the cold nights in my tent having very little money. Everything I wanted to buy just cost too much so I settled on buying two of those pull down knit caps for only $2.50 apiece. The strategy was to put them on my feet and roll my sock tops over them so they would stay on during the night.  I had been wandering around in the store for a long time, these kinda’ decisions do not come easily. A lady stepped in front of me and said, “Sir, is there something I can help you with?” By her tone of voice and the look on her face, she was concerned with the fact a guy with a backpack sitting in front of their store had been wondering around for a very long time. See, nearly everyone upon first seeing me, decides that I am a homeless wanderer. I immediately handed her one of my cards and told her who I was and why I walk. I could see the look in her eyes change. She introduced herself as Shana, the store manager. She told me she was extremely sorry for the loss of my children. We talked a very long time. She had spent ten years in the army and said she had really loved it. I had to ask why she would give it up when she already had half her time in before retirement. She told me, “I had the opportunity of an instant family consisting of two little girls, both under three and a wonderful man!” “What a great decision!” I said. She told me to go to the isle where they had the sample sized products and pick what I wanted. She also told me to get several packs of beef jerky for the road. Instead of paying, she had me sign a form and said, “You didn’t get much, are you sure you don’t need anything else?” I meet the sweetest people in the world… what a wonderful path I follow.

You know you’re in the Bible belt when you come out of a Tarkio, Missouri Dollar General Store and you find a 97 pound bible placed on top your backpack. It was a brand new bible. I took it into the store and asked the employees if they might know who put it there. None seemed to know who it might have been. I asked if I could leave it with them and if they were to possibly find out who left it, would they please explain that I appreciated the gesture but just couldn’t handle that much extra weight. It felt as though they were all staring at me as I left the store. I was expecting to hear at any moment, “Blasphemer, blasphemer!”  

I waved at a Tarkio, Missouri policeman as I was walking out of town. He didn’t wave back, I wasn’t at all surprised when he turned around, pulled up behind me and turned his lights on. I’m not comfortable when they turn the lights on and make a big show of it, I feel it puts me in an even  worse light than I am already in for being on foot.  His name was Michael and he was a huge young man, extremely overweight. He asked, “Where you goin’?” I immediately gave him my card and very quickly explained to him that I was walking to Key West, Florida and why. I started telling him how wonderful it was to have concerned police officers like him looking out for my welfare. My strategy must have worked because he didn’t even ask to see my ID. I asked him how far it was to my next place to obtain food. He told me that would be Burlington Junction and that was at least 30 miles away. I asked if he were positive about the mileage because I thought I had remembered the map having listed it as 17 miles. He looked at me as though I had dared question his knowledge of the area and said, “Burlington Junction is 30 miles away and then Maryville, the next town after that is 45 miles!” I certainly had no reason to doubt him, he was from the area. I was disappointed that I was going to have to go so long without eating because I had looked at the map wrong and misjudged the distance. I said thanks and turned and walked away, he grunted, got in his car and went back to the donut shop.  And I swear this is the truth! I walked about 300 yards and there was a sign, BURLINGTON JCT. - 16   and under that, MARYVILLE – 35. I don’t know… maybe you have to be a county deputy to be required to know how far apart the neighboring towns are? There must not be any donut shops in Burlington Junction and Maryville, Missouri.  Just after the cop stop, a big burly farmer pulled up in his old truck and handed me a sandwich, cookies, and a bottle of water. “Here” he said, “I saw ya earlier so I stopped and got these for ya. God bless ya.” It all balances out my friends, just ask the Lakota.

Near the junction of U.S. 136 and U.S. 69, Missouri Highway Patrolman, Rob Dudeck stopped and asked if I was okay and if I needed anything. He was very interested in what I was doing and thanked me for doing it! He told me that if I need anything at all to dial *55 on my phone and that would take me directly to the Missouri Highway Patrol. He was such a fine young man…. More balance.  A young man stopped to talk, told me he had lived with the mother of his two little girls for seven years and they had decided to get married about a year and a half ago… and now they were getting a divorce. I told him I was so very sorry and having experienced a divorce I knew how bad he must be feeling. He said, “Aw, shit happens.” That’s not what his eyes were saying, that young man was hurting! There was a reason he wanted to talk. I gave him my whole story and told him my view as to why we do not have the right to take our own lives. “Oh, I would never do that, I could never be that upset about anything!” He said. “I’m sure you wouldn’t.” I answered. I heard my son say the same thing once.  

A seriously beat up old mini-van pulled up beside me and the driver, a very colorful young lady who called herself Sylvio. She was dressed quite unusual, sort of Amish looking, long dress going to her ankles, a shawl around her shoulders, and a little lace cap on her head. But she was wearing very bright hot pink shoes which looked like ballet slippers. There were two other people in the van and a pit bull. The other two, a guy and a pretty young woman, were both just as colorful with their dress and lots of tattoos and piercing. The girl’s hair was a purplish red…. now I did see a '37 Chevy coupe once that looked good painted that color.  Sylvio asked if I needed a place to stay for the night. She explained to me that she was currently staying in a place they called, “the ghost town” with several other people who were all practicing a simpler way of life. She told me that she would be sleeping in her van with her dog and I could use her large tent. I decided I would take her up on it. She opened up the back of the van so I could place my large backpack in the back. I never even thought about the pit bull and simply tossed the pack up into the back. It evidently startled the dog and she attacked! Sylvio was able to grab her before she got to me! She snapped at Sylvio and brought blood from her hand. She grabbed her dog and flung her down on the ground and held her there screaming at her until she finally stopped snarling. I apologized for startling the dog. They all three told me the dog was always like that when she was around men. Sylvio said she would never own a pit bull again and that the dog had caused her numerous problems. I’ve owned pit bulls, never had one act like that… nor would I.

After arriving at the ghost town I met several of Sylvio’s friends. They were all very nice but for some reason I had made up my mind in the van to not stay the night with them. Sylvio said she had to make a trip to the store which was back on the highway. I told her I wasn’t going to stay and she wanted to know why. She kept questioning my reasons, was I turned off by someone, was I nervous around strangers, etc. I explained to her that it was just a decision I had made and I could not explain it other than it was a decision I had made. I think it’s called, following your heart. And I do it all the time. She seemed to like that answer and we had a wonderful time driving to the store. She dropped me off at a stretch of woods where I could pitch my tent. Sylvio started giving me all kinds of natural stuff, soy milk, organic energy bars, and drinks, etc. She just couldn’t believe I preferred greasy hot dogs and burgers over the natural stuff. People are always worrying about what stuff will kill them if they eat it. I think what is killing them is the worrying over the stuff they eat killing them. Eat, drink, and be merry… damnit! A few days later, Sylvio came by my motel room and visited with me about an hour or so. She brought me a chocolate milk shake! She gave me some more energy drinks. I really enjoyed her company; she was a sweet and giving person with a beautiful heart. She has called me a couple of times since to check up on me.

Near Sedalia, Missouri, a guy pulls up beside me in a brand new, really nice truck and asked me if I would like to have a ride. I told him no, that I was walking and why I was walking. He asked one more time if I was sure I did not want a ride and then left. About four hours later, a few miles up the road, the same guy pulls up on the other side of the road from me. He yelled at me to come over to his truck. I did so and he asked me again if I needed a ride and I again told him no. He then said, “Look, I would like to help you out; I would like to get you a motel room.” Wow! It had been quite a few days since I had been able to get a room…. I didn’t have to ponder that decision for long. Once in his VERY expensive truck, he told me that he first had to stop at the medical center that he managed. He was inside but a few minutes and when he came out he handed me a large bag full of cereal and energy bars. And before I could get out a thank you he reached his hand out to me and said, “Here’s a hundred dollars, this should help you out.” I was stunned…. To say the least! I said, “Sir, are you sure…. That’s a lot of money?” It was a stupid thing to say and…. by now, I should know better. The people giving want to give and are joyful in doing so. The gentleman said, “I don’t mean to brag Steve, but this is what I do, I help people whenever I get an opportunity. I have been very blessed in my life and so I pass it on.” He took me to a very nice motel and we went in and he purchased me a room! Before he left, he asked me if there was anything else I needed. If I had stayed the night with Sylvio’s friends, I would not have encountered this fine gentleman who enjoyed so much, the opportunity to help others.

I have had a tough time accepting charity ever since I started my walks in 2001. I have NEVER asked for anything but water. I am a  self made guy who owned my own business for 31 years and I just don’t like taking anything I don’t feel I worked for. I’ve been chewed out for this attitude several times by people wanting to help me.  The best chewing out came from a wonderful gentleman near Springfield, Illinois in 2007. Here is that story:

                                                     "An Elvis Sighting"

 

Just east of Springfield, Illinois, a big truck pulling a trailer loaded with feed corn started pulling over to the side of the road as soon as he seen me. I thought he was going to go into the ditch he got so close, he was still not completely off the highway. A big black gentleman climbed down to the road with lots of grunts as his big pot belly sticking out from under his hole filled tee shirt, bounced up and down. His face was filled with a most beautiful smile! “Hi there, I been a lookin’ fur you!  My name is Elvis Beal (Bill)!” I said, “Elvis like in Presley?”  And with a wonderful laugh and shaking his head he said, “Yeah, my momma, she loved Elvis!” I had the feeling he would have preferred another name, but whatever his momma did was the right thing, and okay with him. When he spoke it was as if he would break into laughter any moment. I was instantly very comfortable with him. He said, “Now climb up here in muh truck here and we’re gonna go up da road here a bit.” And he started to climb back up into the cab as if I had been told and now I would do as he suggested. He never stopped smiling and chuckling. I said, “Sir, I do appreciate the ride offer and all, but I’m trying to walk from corner to corner of the U.S. with this here sign and if I take a ride, that kind of defeats my purpose.” I might as well have said nothing at all.  He insisted I get in his truck. “Looka’ here now.” He said, “I’m gonna take ya up da road just a few miles where there are restaurants and stuff for ya. And there’s an ATM there and I’m going to draw out some money for ya.” I said, “Sir, I do appreciate the offer, but I am okay and I really don’t need your money sir.” Without hesitating even a second, he said, “Now, I didn’t axe you at all whether you needed it or not… now did I?” “No sir!” I said “But…” He didn’t let me finish and began explaining, “Now you looka here now, it ain’t really none of your business what I do with my money… now is it?” “Well, no sir, but…” He cut me off again and said, “Now you ain’t gonna’ cheat me outa’ my blessin’! I feel like the Lord is a wantin’ me to give you a certain amount of money… and by da grace of God, I’m gonna’ do it… whether you think I should or not!” He continued to laugh. Elvis had a real special way of getting… his way.

    Well, I was properly chewed out, chastised by a man smiling and chuckling the whole time. I climbed up in his truck and down the road we went. He explained he had seen me on the way to pick up his first load of corn for the day. He said when he saw me he just knew God wanted him to bless me. I said, “But…” one last time and was laughingly chewed out for it. We talked of giving, God, loving life, and lots of other things pertaining to life. He had a bible beside him that was reduced to just a pile of tattered pages. He was obviously a Christian, but not the ‘pain in the ass’ kind. He spoke of love and understanding for his fellow human being. He never talked of salvation or sin or what anyone else should do in their lives. He never one time asked me if I were religious nor did he even hint to it. Most Christians out there on the road, nice they may be, will invariably ask if I too am a Christian, or the most privacy invading question of all… “Are you saved?”  I commonly answer that with another question, “Saved from what?” He was a delight to be with and converse with. In the parking lot next to the ATM machine, after he had given me the amount of money he insisted on, he gave me directions to all the services I might need. Then he grabbed me and gave me one of the best damn hugs I’ve ever had! And that was my Elvis sighting! Hell, I’d hang a velvet painting of that Elvis on my wall any day!

 

The hundred bucks sure came in handy! I did my laundry and two days later, I was caught in a terrible storm and was able to get a room! And I was able to get a haircut at Harold’s Barber Shop, quite a wonderful experience. I gave a thrift store a new jacket I had just bought and paid $4.00 for one I liked much better. It was a much nicer jacket than the new one. It was down and very easy to stuff into my pack. I walked into Harold’s Barber Shop which I was told about by some guy in the thrift store. Harold was 85 and still runs his shop 3 to 4 days a week. I asked, “How much for a haircut sir?” “$4.00” said Harold. Four bucks… I couldn’t believe it! Waiting for the two ahead of me and getting to listen to Harold’s stories was wonderful! Harold gave me an awesome haircut, trimmed my eyebrows and mustache. He was very meticulous. I handed him a five dollar bill and asked if that would cover it. He handed me back a dollar bill and said, “We don’t do that here.” He placed my card up on his wall mirror with the LOVE LIFE side showing. Yes, you should envy me for all the awesome encounters I experience!  

 

In Lincoln, Missouri at the County Discount Store I placed all my gear up against the wall with the intent of going into the store to look for a patch kit to mend my leaking sleeping mat with. It was 10:00 am and the sign in the door said they opened at 8:00 am and there was a huge neon “OPEN” sign in the window and it was lit up. Just as I approached the door to enter I heard the click of a lock. The glass doors were heavily tinted so I had to put my face up close to look in. Everything was all lit up but I saw no one. I knocked on the door and there was no answer. I walked to the end of the building and there was a door with a small glass window in it. As I went to look in it, I saw a woman looking out it so as to see where I was! I looked in and she was on the cell phone and she looked frightened to death! I asked loudly (so she could hear through the door) “Are you open?” She looked up motioning with her hands for me to go away and said, “Go away! Go away!” She looked absolutely terrified. I checked my sign to make sure no one had marked out “LOVE LIFE” and written in, “AX MURDERER”. How terrible to have that kind of fear! Perhaps she had been robbed before… by a guy with a “LOVE LIFE” sign over his head?

 

I was walking through Buffalo, Missouri in a cold rain and was fairly miserable when a lady yelled from an old Lincoln, “Hey you need a place to sleep tonight.” “That would be very nice!” I yelled back. It was Teresa and the driver was Tom whom she said was her dad. Teresa told me to put all my gear in and she would feed me, let me take a shower, and wash my clothes for me! WOW, now I’m a happy guy! Before I entered the car, I gave them a card and told them exactly who I was and what I was doing. As we were driving back through town Teresa started saying things like, “Now I want ya to know, we have six guns and they’re all loaded! My dad is real protective of me and he won’t hesitate to shoot you!” I assured her none of that would be necessary. She told me she was aware of all the bad people there were out on the road these days. I told her again who I was and I told her that if she was going to be uncomfortable with me in her home I would prefer not to go there. I told her I would not be comfortable knowing I was creating such discomfort for her. She apologized and pleaded with me to please let them help me. And Tom explained that Teresa just worries a lot and that they would love to have me stay over. The rain was pouring down now and it was getting late, so I let it go and went to her home.

 

Tom and I were sitting at the kitchen table eating taco’s and just jabbering away. Tom told me he had known Teresa since she was a little girl. I thought he was her dad? Anyway, we’re sitting there and Teresa is in her bedroom talking on the phone to her brother when, “BAM!!” this loud noise goes off in the adjacent bedroom! Tom jumps up with me right behind him and we run into Teresa’s bedroom and there she stands pointing at a 45 automatic lying on her dresser! The color has completely left her face! She starts screaming at Tom, “You stupid son-of-a-bitch! I told you to never have a loaded gun in this house! (What happened to the six loaded guns?) I saw it laying there close to the edge and so I reached to move it further up on the dresser and the fucking thing went off! You fucking asshole!” Tom had gone into the bedroom as soon as we entered the house. He had taken the safety off and placed the gun on the dresser so he could get at it in case the murderous man with the “LOVE LIFE” sign tried to kill them. The bullet went through one side of the steel door which led to the outside. It didn’t go through the other side, but you could see where it almost had. Tom tried to lie and insisted the safety had been on, which of course is impossible. Teresa continued to yell at Tom and berate him until he threw his hands up in the air and left! I then told Teresa, who was an absolute wreck, that I would leave. She said it would be fine if I stayed because her brother Alex would be over any moment and was staying the night. Alex was a wonderful young man who had spent some time in prison five years before and was trying very hard to change his life. We spoke for hours after Annie Oakley went to bed and some more hours the next day.

 

If that gun had been aimed in another direction it could have easily killed me or either one of the other two! And they had been afraid of me! The next day at a Dollar General store in Buffalo, a sweet young lady who worked there walked up to me and handed me a very large cup of hot coffee. She said she had seen me in the rain the day before and felt sorry for me. She said she saw someone pick me up in a Lincoln and that made her feel much better. She wouldn’t have felt better had she known it was Bonnie & Clyde in the Lincoln.

 

On route 125 going into Strafford, Missouri, there was no shoulder at all and steep ditches on both sides of the road, so I had to walk in the road as close to the edge as possible. A very frustrated driver of an old green Ford pickup was getting tired of waiting behind the two other cars waiting for oncoming traffic to clear so they could then go around me.  As soon as the cars in front of him made sure they gave me plenty of room and passed me, the green Ford truck gunned his motor and came straight at me! I ducked down as far as I could and that prevented the large extended side mirrors from hitting me! I looked up and a young lady was holding her arms out the windows of the next car taking my picture. “Do you mind?” She asked. I said, “That guy in front of you tried to hit me!” And very nonchallant like, she said, “Oh yeah, I saw that.” And she continued to snap pictures of the novelty with “LOVE LIFE” over his head. Not much farther down the road I saw the Calvary Mission Church with this sign in front of it, “SHACKING UP WILL COST U HEAVEN - HOPE ITS WORTH IT!” And at the very bottom of the sign, BRO. FISH. Brother Fish needs to change the sign for his community, “IT IS NOT NICE TO RUN OVER OLD MEN ON THE ROAD!”  Brother Fish probably drives an old green Ford pickup truck.

 

In West Plains, Missouri, at a little café where I was eating, I met John who insisted on driving me over to his house and showing me his Model A Ford collection. We climbed up into his big Lincoln Navigator and as soon as we entered he attached the breathing apparatus to his face.  He looked at me and said, “This is from having a Margarita in one hand and a cigarette in the other for most of my life!” His three Model A’s were all restored beautifully and I enjoyed looking at them. John was a very nice person, he was very lonely though. I spent a few hours with him as he drove me around West Plains and showed me the sights.        

    

I Walked past the Little Bighorn battle field where Custer was defeated by the Oglala Lakota, Northern Cheyenne, and Arapaho people in a last ditch effort to protect their land (which had been agreed upon and duly recognized by the U.S. government as Indian land) from the gold diggers who had illegally trespassed on their lands and discovered gold.  Just imagine if today, the U.S government decided it wanted the land in Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New York, being occupied by the Amish people and started attacking and killing them to get it!

Somewhere between Busby, and Lame Deer on the Northern Cheyenne lands I found a dead juvenile bald eagle lying in a roadside ditch, obviously having been hit by an auto. How very sad it was to see this beautiful bird lying there dead instead of soaring effortlessly overhead. Knowing how sacred the eagle is to the Native American and how valuable the feathers are to them, I pulled the body up to the side of the road where someone might spot it easier and retrieve it. I was in a dead zone for my Verizon phone (“can you hear me now?” my ass!) and so was unable to notify tribal police. The penalty for having eagle feathers or body parts without proper permits is a $100,000 dollar fine and imprisonment! And you can only obtain a permit if you are Native American. At Lame Deer I met Northern Cheyenne, Brian Roberts, and told him where I had found the eagle. He said it would surely be long gone by that time. Brian was very interested in why I was walking. He told me of a Northern Cheyenne army veteran, Teddy Gray, who was walking across the U.S. at that time. He spotted the very cheap compass which I had hanging off my backpack strap to look at occasionally to be assured I am ALWAYS walking in the right direction. Brian told me he had a very nice Suunto brand compass he wanted to give me. He also gave me a beautiful necklace which had been decorated in beautiful bead work by a Cheyenne friend of his. He showed me a design woven into it and explained it to be the Cheyenne Northern Star and told me the necklace was to hang my new compass from. I could’t believe he was giving me such a special and valuable gift! Brian told me he appreciated my message and that it was much needed on Native American lands as they had very high suicide rates. 

On both the Crow lands and Northern Cheyenne lands, lots of Native Americans stopped to talk and inquire of my “LOVE LIFE” sign. This curiosity among Native American people has been prevalent on all Native lands I have crossed. And I have crossed many, including; Seminole, Miccosukee Seminole, Cherokee, (North Carolina and Oklahoma) Shoshone, Hoopa, Karuk, Yurok, Ojibwa, (several different spellings) Blackfeet, Nez Perce, Apache, Hopi, and Navajo. I have never been treated even slightly rude in any way by any Native American’s while crossing their lands on foot. And most of the time I have been in very remote situations where I was very vulnerable. When walking around the U.S. just before walking into Browning, Montana on Blackfeet land, I was told by some white men that I would probably be mugged and possibly even murdered if I dared to walk across the Blackfeet lands! I was told that they were a very mean people. By the time I saw the city limit sign for Browning, I had already been invited into three different homes to spend the night! I found the Blackfeet to be very courteous and of course… very curious. I believe the curiosity and open heartedness of the Native American has been their downfall in our history. How very wonderful for us and the rest of the universe, they have not allowed that to change them!

This is a story from my first walk across Native American lands in 2001 on my first walk across the United States:

                                                  "A Hug and A Beer"

It was a Sunday afternoon in June, I was crossing the Shoshone Indian Reservation just outside of Fallon, Nevada. The temperature was past a hundred and felt like it was climbing. This was my first time walking in desert lands; I was on U.S. route 50, America's Loneliest Highway. I was a little anxious about the next fifty miles into the town of Cold Springs, the nearest water. There was a little store and gas station there and it would be my last place to stop before Cold Springs. I was sitting on the ground out in front of the store having a couple hot dogs and my last ice cold drink for awhile. An old, really beat up pick-up truck pulled up just to the right of me. I caught just a glimpse of a very big Shoshone Indian climbing out the passenger side. He had long black braids hanging out of a dust filled, once black cowboy hat. And he obviously had had a little too much to drink. I quickly looked away; I just didn't care to be bothered. I was in an unusual mood; I think I was more worried about crossing my first stretch of desert than I was letting myself know. The big Indian just stopped right in front of me, staring at me and my cart and my beautiful "LOVE LIFE" sign. I ignored him. And then he spoke, very slow, "What are you doing?" God, I did not want to be bothered! He repeated, "What are you doing?" "I am walking across America." I finally answered. Then he immediately and very matter of fact asked, "Why?" I was really in a funk and just didn't want to converse, I am certain that was the only time in all my walks I ever allowed myself to be in that kind of mood. I answered, "Because I've never done it before!" He was not going to go away, he then says, "But why do you have that sign?" "Cause I love life!" I answered; my irritation showing. "Why?" He wanted to know. I told him that I just thought it was a nice thing to say! "But why?" he asked, "And why are you walking with that sign?" Wanting the conversation with this drunken Indian to end, I finally said, "God told me to!" "No shit!" He said. "No shit!" I answered. And with a stunned look on his face, he said, "I didn't know God talked to you white guys?" I said, "Well, he talks to this one!" He turned to face his truck and the Indian woman at the wheel and yells, "Hey honey, God told this guy to walk across America and by God he's doin' it!" He turns back to me and says, "By God I'm buyin' you a beer!" “By God I’ll drink it!” I said. And a few minutes later he handed me an ice cold beer! He gave me a big bear hug and walked off laughing. Now I was in a great mood and ready to tackle the desert. Hell, all I really needed was a hug and a beer... by God!

In the tiny town of Alzada, Montana I stopped in the Stoneville Saloon which advertises on the front of their building, CHEAP DRINKS – LOUSY FOOD and “Conveniently located in the Middle of Nowhere” Well, to my pleasure, the LOUSY FOOD part was not true, my cheeseburger was awesome! Diane, the owner, who was a fox and decorated with some very nice tattoo’s allowed me to tent next to her saloon for the night!

Did about 20 miles of Wyoming on U.S. 212 cutting across a small corner of the state, taking me out of Montana and into South Dakota. Now I have officially walked in Wyoming with “LOVE LIFE” over my head. After leaving Nebraska, I will do just a small corner of Iowa also. I will then have walked in all the lower 48 states proclaiming "LOVE LIFE"!

At Spearfish, South Dakota, I had dinner with a young couple and their three children and spent the night in a travel trailer on their property. Stopped at Wild Bill’s campground just outside Deadwood, S.D., for breakfast, the person waiting on me was a fine young man, Tyler Grimm. Tyler allowed me to charge my phone and laptop while I ate. I shared my story with him and he never tired of asking me questions. Moments after I left, Tyler ran up behind me and handed me more than enough money to pay for the breakfast I just had. He said he really believed in what I was doing and wanted to help.
 
Somewhere on U.S. 385 in the Black Hills, Danielle Dutton from New York state and Joe Shannon from Rhode Island stopped to talk. Danielle was real excited because she had seen me walking in upstate Ney York two years before! They were in the Black Hills working for the U.S. Forestry Service. They shared their fresh fruit and energy bars with me. They asked if there was anything else they could help me with. I told them I was in dire need of a buckle for the waist belt on my back pack and showed them how I had been having to tie it in a knot since the original had broken. Joe immediately opened up the back of his SUV and pulled ouy his very nice backpack and took the buckle off and handed to me! I couldn't believe it! Joe said to me, "We're going into Rapid City and I'll buy one there... if not, I'll just tie mine together like you did. You need it much more than I do!" Thank you Joe and Danielle for everything!  

The Black Hills of South Dakota, called Paha Sappa - "Hills that are black" by the Lakota people, are truly beautiful! I walked into Wind Cave National Park and was excited about the opportunity to walk amongst the buffalo. I had barely entered the park when I saw a huge bull and several cows crossing the road in front of me! It was so exciting! Just after I spotted them, a park ranger, Frank Platt stopped to check on me and find out for his own curiosity what I was up to. I was worried that he might not allow me to walk among the bison, but he assured me it would be okay. Frank told me to simply give them plenty of space and the warning signs for danger were, if the buffalo stopped wagging its tail and instead raised it up in the air.  Also, if one were to keep staring at me and lowered its head in my direction… get the hell outa’ Dodge! Well, I saw a small herd and was able to get some pictures but not nearly the close up shots I wanted. I still had about three hours to walk through the rest of the park so I figured I could still get a good close up shot of a large bull.  And then, up pulls Frank Platt again, “What’s up Frank?” I cheerfully inquired. It seems that Frank had second thoughts and decided he would feel really bad if I was trampled to death by a herd of wild bison… shit!! I pleaded with him but to no avail. So, Frank drove me the remaining five miles to the park gate, as we drove out I saw several large bulls that I probably would have walked by. I camped next to the park fence hoping that a herd would show up in that area that I could photograph through the fence. Didn’t happen… shit!!

Just walking out of the South Dakota town of Hill City, about 4:00 in the afternoon and I heard someone yelling at me, “Hey ya gonna’ need a place to stay tonight?” I looked up to see a very thin cowboy walking down the hill from a small house perched on top the hill. His name was Daryl and he had obviously been drinking. He told me I was welcome to stay at his house. I told him I wouldn’t mind pitching my tent in his yard. Daryl said, “You can pitch it anywhere you want or you can stay in the house, just go on up and make yourself at home… I’m goin’ to the bar and do me some drinkin’ and do some karaoke… see ya later.” And with that, he was gone. In front of his house he had piles of firewood bundles stacked on tables with a coffee can that said “donations” on it. While I was pitching my tent, several people came by and got firewood. It was the weekend and there were lots of campgrounds in the area. I took him up on his offer and entered his very small, very old home and used his kitchen table for my laptop. On the walls were pictures of Daryl on horseback and there were horse bridles and other tack hanging here and there. There was an old wood burning pot bellied stove in the middle of his living/bedroom. I crawled in my tent at dark and still had not seen any sign of Daryl. About 2:00 am I heard someone helping him to his door. About 4:30 am I heard his back door open and Daryl yelled out, “Man, its cold as shit out here, I’m gettin’ wood for the stove. Get on in here and get warm!” It was serious cold in my tent so within a few minutes I was in that house! Daryl fixed up some cowboy coffee, eggs, and a pound of bacon which I consumed with the gusto of a hound dog! Daryl was still pretty well intoxicated and though he fixed himself a plate, he never touched it. I ended up eating his as well. Have I mentioned that I eat a lot out here?

Daryl had a very old hi-fi, probably from the early 60’s and he had an Eddy Arnold record playing. I asked him if Eddy Arnold was still living, he said he didn’t know. That’s easy enough to find out I told him, I’ll check it on the laptop. Daryl said, “That may be the first one of them things I ever actually looked at… I hate that modern hi-tech shit! I think we’d all be better off without that crap!” I chuckled at his comments and proceeded to find out that Mr. Arnold had indeed passed away only last year. Daryl was obviously impressed but wasn’t going to admit it. “Is there anything else you would like to know?” I asked. At first he just grunted and shook his head no and then he said, “Hey, can ya see what Bette Midler is up to now?” And so I read him some of the latest news on her. “I always loved hearing her sing The Rose.” Daryl told me. Soooo, I clicked on a video of Bette Midler singing The Rose. We sat there watching and soon the tears were streaming down that skinny cowboy’s face. Then I clicked on one of her singing "The Wind beneath My Wings". Now we were both crying, I was thinking of my two beautiful babies and what my memories of them did for me. Of course I had no way of knowing what thoughts or memories it provoked for Daryl. And then he started talking.

He told me he had two sons, two years apart, that he had to raise by himself. He said both boys were into football and polo. The oldest, he said, was excellent at polo and it was his preferred sport. He talked and talked about the oldest son and how good he was at everything he did. And then he said, “But then he really screwed up!” He looked down at the floor for a long time and with tears streaming he continued, “See, he had been raised up with guns, he knew all about them. We had gone hunting his whole life. He was 16 and he knew better! See, what he did was… he saw a rat out there in the shed… ya see. So he grabbed his huntin’ rifle and tried to get a shot at it. Now the rifle had a scope on it and he was in a small space and so he figured if he was going to be able to get a good shot he would have to scare the rat out of the hole it ran into. Now he had already tried to get a shot so that meant the safety was off. So he laid the rifle down and then stretched out on his belly real flat to look into the hole and try to spot the rat. Well, he musta’ seen it in there and then reached his hand back for the rifle. He got the rifle by the barrel and began dragging it up toward himself. Now I don’t know what that trigger caught on…. but it caught on somethin’.  The bullet entered just under his chin and then went on through… he was gone instantly!” I had already told Daryl of my son’s suicide. He looked at me and said, “Now there were some around here who said my boy killed himself…. horseshit! He would never have done that!” I didn’t ask Daryl how he could have known such details of what had happened if no one else was present when the accident occurred. I also didn’t ask him what the police report said. A few minutes later, Daryl said he had to go cut some trees for someone and get some more firewood to sell. I packed up my tent, put everything on my back and walked on down the road with Bette Midler singing in my head, “you are the wind beneath my wings.” Did I mention, I cry a lot out here?   

In Hot Springs, the local newspaper, the Hot Springs Star, covered my story. Brett Nachtigall, the publisher, took me to two different stores to do some shopping after he interviewed me. He was a super nice guy and we spoke for a very long time.  For some reason, on this walk, I have not received much newspaper coverage at all. Nearly every time a newspaper covers my walk and gets my message out, I get contacted by at least one individual, sometimes more, that my message affected them. What could possibly be more important than the possibility of, “Mending the broken heart before it stops beating”? ?

An old banged up Thunderbird pulled beside me with four Native Americans inside and they obviously had been drinking. They were probably Lakota considering the area we were in. The driver asked what I was doing and I told him. He then spotted my Northern Cheyenne made necklace and expressed that he would really like to have it. He held up his hand clutching some dollar bills and offered them to me for the necklace. I informed him it was not for sale. He said, “But you don’t know how much money I am holding.” I told him it did not matter, the necklace was not for sale, it was a gift from a Northern Cheyenne back in Montana and I could not part with it. He tried to persuade me to sell a couple more times when the one woman in the back seat said, “he’s not going to sell it, he can’t sell it,  give him the money.” They all four started laughing and just seemed absolutely delighted that they were able to give me the money… necklace on no necklace. They gave me the three dollars, which I believe was their intent in the first place before the driver spotted the necklace. Lakota people are special… they have hearts designed to give!

I have a wonderful dear friend, Liz Garcia Gray. Liz is a child psychiatrist with a practice in Louisville, Kentucky. She donates her time all over the world as natural disasters occur. She is a giver; she has been known to pay the toll for the car behind her at a toll booth. And she is a happy giver! She enjoys life as much anyone I’ve ever met! She told me at her birthday celebration in New York City, “Steve, if you don’t start having more fun… I’m going to take your “LOVE LIFE” sign away from you!” And then she laughed and laughed. But I took her serious… I have absolutely stayed aware of how important it is to have fun and enjoy life in all our endeavors! She is beautiful on the outside because she is so very beautiful on the inside… that’s the way it works folks. She is a knock down gorgeous Filipino princess whom is engaged to a very handsome Lakota warrior, Lawrence Janis (Juh-neice).  They met when Liz was volunteering her services to the Lakota people at Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota. They both said it was love at first sight! Just a few weeks ago, Liz notified me she would be visiting her fiancée over the Labor Day weekend. I was in Montana and not that far away from Pine Ridge so we planned on meeting there.

As I have stated, I’ve walked across many Native American lands. You notice a lot more when you’re on foot… ya move real slowly. The Native American lands are always a pleasure to walk across. This is due to the fact most of the Native Americans I have encountered are very curious, very kind, and extremely generous. I have certainly witnessed social problems on the reservations no doubt. The worse problem I’ve seen is alcohol. It has been my observation though, the more the particular Native people encourage and practice their ancestral ways, the less social problems they have. My friend Liz had told me that she had never met a finer people than the Oglala Lakota. She spoke of their spirituality, their family values, their generosity, and their honesty. I agree.

I arrived at Pine Ride a couple days earlier than planned because I literally was not able to walk in as originally planned! Lakota’s will not let you walk! As soon as I left the Lakota owned Prairie Winds Casino and a wonderful buffet style breakfast, cars started stopping and offering rides. I had turned down two rides already when the casino bus pulled up and offered me a ride. I really wanted to walk because I was running three days early on meeting up with my friend Liz, I had about 30 more miles to go and figured a slow walk would narrow it down to only one day early. The Native American bus driver said, “Come on man, get in the bus man. The hostess at the Casino restaurant told me all about you… get in here and tell me all about what you are doing.” What the hell, I took the ride. We had wonderful conversation, mostly about the Lakota people and their proud history. (Sitting Bull, Red Cloud, Crazy Horse, and many more) I figured, what the hell, I’ll at least walk the 15 miles from Oglala to Pine Ridge and arrive only two days early. I went in the little store at Oglala and had a wonderful talk with the lady behind the counter. I told her that Lawrence Janis was going to try and get me a an interview with Tom Casey on KILI-FM radio “The Voice of the Lakota People”. I was sitting outside the store and a lady came out of the store and said, “Hey, I hear you are going to be interviewed by Tom Casey?” “Possibly?” I answered. Just then my phone rang and it was my friend Liz checking on me. The lady said, “Is that Tom, let me talk to him.” Just as I was ready to leave the store property, a group of young men called me over to their car and asked me to explain to them what I was doing. Before I left that store three more people approached me wanting to know what I was doing. This kind of curious questioning happens occasionally when I am walking through white communities… not every ten minutes! Back out on the road for ten minutes and I turned down a ride. About 15 minutes later there were three cars pulled over at the same time offering me a ride! Now remember; I am not hitchhiking and I am walking facing the traffic! Now I have three cars pulled over and trying to thank all for their offer... but no thanks. One car had pulled into the opposite lane for me to be able to get in easier and caused us all to receive ‘the finger’ from a car going the opposite way. Then a Lakota couple pulled up in a red pickup truck and the driver kept shouting for me to hurry up and jump in the back! There were soon three vehicles behind them… what the hell, into the back I jumped! I’m sitting in the bed of that truck thinking about how fast they seemed to be going when they put on the brakes and came to a screeching halt in order to pick up a Lakota man walking down the road. He jumps in and starts telling me the history of the Lakota people. Within minutes the truck has to decrease speed rapidly in order to pick up yet another Lakota man walking. He also felt obligated to tell me of the Lakota people. And a third time the brakes take us from a rapid rate of speed as the three of us hang on tight and then made room for the third Lakota man who as soon as he introduced himself to me, excitedly shouted, “Look over there man, look over there! That’s where Red Cloud is buried!” Another man interjects, “The high school is named after him.” One man asked, “ Did you see the college yet, did you visit the Oglala Lakota College yet?” Another said, “Make sure you visit our Wounded Knee Memorial.” When we pulled over in Pine Ridge for us all to unload, the three men all jumped out and instantly reached in and grabbed a piece of my baggage! They all shook my hand vigorously and kept telling me places I should visit. It never bothered any of them that I was not Lakota, that it was my ancestors who took their land and tried (Thank God it didn’t work!) to rob them of their customs, their traditions, and their pride! So, there I was in Pine Ridge three days earlier than I was supposed to be... it was those damn Indians!

In Pine Ridge I tried to get in touch with my new Lakota friend Lawrence Janis but could not as he was at work as a counselor at Pine Ridge high school. So I just found some picnic tables in the center of town and waited. Many stopped to talk to me when they spotted my “LOVE LIFE” sign. One young man, Wayne Chief Eagle told me that if I was not able to hook up with Lawrence, I could camp down at the pow-wow grounds. I asked if it mattered that I was not Lakota. He looked at me a bit startled and said, “You need a place to stay… this is the Lakota way, no one will bother you. We are happy to have you here!” Lawrence and I were unable to hook up until he had already traveled the 30 miles to his home. So I stayed at the pow-wow grounds. The grounds were an evening gathering place for Pine Ridge residents. They would find a shade tree and park their vehicles (mostly pickups and mini-vans) and get out and gather to talk. I heard a lot of laughter. When they would see me under my chosen shade tree, they would smile and wave. The next day I was driven out to Lawrence’s sister, Rosa Lee's home to spend the afternoon with Lawrence’s brother and his wife. I worked at my laptop all day until their children came home. Rosa Lee’s son Dre, gave me the gift of a book, “The Lakota Way”. He explained to me that he had read the book twice and he would be honored if I accepted it. I told him I was honored but I asked if he was sure he wanted to part with it. The 15-year-old Lakota said, “It is the Lakota way.” That was beautiful, and then he added, “It is the Lakota way to be respectful to the elderly.” Thanks Dre… I think?

I had a wonderful evening getting to know Lawrence Janis and experiencing his wisdom. He is one of the finest men I have ever met. His love for his family and his people is the first thing that impressed me. He left the next morning for Rapid City airport to pick up the love of his life, my friend Liz. His sister, Rosa Lee, drove me over to KILI-FM radio to be interviewed by Tom Casey. It was a wonderful interview, one of the best I’ve experienced. Tom asked challenging questions and had a truly deep concern for the Lakota people. Tom is white but is married to a Lakota and has Lakota children. During the interview, Tom told of a 19-year-old Lakota youth who had only recently ended his own young precious life! The tears were streaming down Tom’s face. I told of an old Apache man at Fort Apache Reservation in Arizona shaking my hand and with tears running down his cheeks saying to me, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you very much!” And how a newspaper reporter later explained to me that the probable reason for the old Apache’s appreciation for my cause was the fact that the year before, 35 young Apache men had taken their own lives! On the way back to Lawrence’s home, Rosa Lee told me that her son Dre and her two nieces were still talking about the talk I had given to them the previous evening. And I thought they were so attentive to my words because they were just being polite and adhering to… “The Lakota way”! I spent the rest of the day and most of the next, all by myself in beautiful solitude in the very modest mobile home amidst the rolling plains just south of the Black Hills and surrounded by about 30 wild horses! It was truly a wonderful experience. I had been experiencing a mental block for nearly two years when trying to write my book. Every time I worked on it I had to struggle and never felt satisfied with the results. For some reason, that all came to an end in that modest home surrounded by wild horses… I started writing with ease. I had a wonderful evening with Lawrence and Liz and we planned for me to help Lawrence the next morning, Sunday, with preparations for a Lakota sweat lodge ceremony. This description of the sweat lodge ceremony from, “The Lakota Way” by Joseph M. Marshall III:

The structure of the sweat lodge represents the womb. We enter it to be reborn. The leader enters first followed by the participants, one by one. The first words the leader and each participant speaks upon entering the lodge are, "mitakuye oyasin", or “all my relatives.” With that simple phrase we connect and align ourselves with all things on and of the earth, thereby forming  a powerful alliance. Each participant circles to the left, in the direction of the sun (or clockwise) and takes a seat. When all are seated, the leader signals the helper, who remains outside, to carry in hot stones and place them in the center pit. A bucket of water is then placed inside, the opening or door is closed and sealed, and there is darkness.                                                                                                                                The leader speaks a welcome and provides instructions. He is the first to offer a prayer, acknowledging the Creator, the Earth Mother, and the powers that live in the Four Directions. Thereafter each participant offers a prayer as the leader pours water on the hot stones, and steam fills the space. The temperature rises very quickly in the enclosure and everyone sweats. This is the purification, tha purging of one’s troubles and the impurities and negativity brought into the lodge. Songs are sung as commemorations and as prayers. When all the participants have prayed, the leader opens the door and allows a brief respite from the heat. The length of the ceremony depends on the number of participants and the length of their prayers. The emergence from the lodge or the “womb” symbolizes their rebirth and a new beginning. Outside they gather in a circle as the leader lights the pipe and each participant is invited to smoke.                                                                                                                                The acknowledgment of the connection to all things living is a real and operative concept for the participants in the ceremony. Everything that is a part of the ceremony symbolizes that connection, or kinship.  The round shape of the lodge represents life itself, and all the four elements are part of the ceremony; Earth, Wind, Fire, and Water. All the elements and all the relatives - all things living – are brought together to share the burdens and give their strength to whatever lies ahead.                                        

And that kind of ceremony upset the Christian missionaries?? Didn't Jesus the Christ say something about having to be reborn?                          

Well, I helped chop up the wood and start the fire to heat up the rocks and had a wonderful time talking and listening to Lawrence. It was wonderful watching all his family and friends show up for the “sweat”. They were loaded into pickup trucks and all arriving smiling and laughing. I was very excited to have been invited to participate in this beautiful and sacred ceremony. However… but a few minutes into the ceremony after they closed the opening, I experienced a slight problem… I felt I couldn’t breath! Two years earlier I had to exit from a sauna for the same reason. Soooo, I had to bail.  About 15 minutes after exiting, I was leaning against the hood of a truck feeling pretty bad over having to leave the “sweat” and I heard Lawrence ask that the door be opened again. “Oh goody!” I thought, someone else has capitulated and cannot take the heat. I was thinking that it would really be a reprieve for me if it was one of the young Lakota warriors that were present. And sure enough, it was! It was a young Lakota warrior… a very young Lakota warrior. Out stepped bare chested little three year old Wic'api, Lakota for Star! Lawrence’s great nephew, Lawrence said that when saying Wic’api, between the C and the A is a guttural sound in the pronunciation, and the C is a ch sound. He said, “We just call him “Choppy”. So, “Choppy” outlasted me and about 30 minutes later, more Lakota’s gave up…. The five to twelve year olds! Later, I was sitting next to Lawrence’s mother, she reached over and patted my knee and said, “You tried, and… you are here.” Her son-in-law came over to me later and said, “What matters, you are here.” At the end of the “sweat” at least two others repeated the same to me. Later in the day, Lawrence said to me, “Your “sweat” comes in another way.” I have to ask, “What if the white man had been as respectful and gracious concerning the Native American ways?”

About midway during the “sweat” ceremony Lawrence invited me to sit at the opening and address the participants and explain my cause, my purpose. During the whole ceremony I heard everything that was going on in the sweat lodge and enjoyed the singing in the beautiful Lakota tongue. I sat in the circle after “sweat” and smoked peace pipe. A nephew of Lawrence came up to me and told me he heard me being interviewed on KILI-FM radio and that it really had an impact on the way he would look at things from now on. Lawrence and Liz took me to the site of Wounded Knee. I really do not know what to say as to how it affected me to stand there on that holy ground with a Lakota warrior, a descendant of the victims of that terrible atrocity.  Certainly I was honored, but there was such a sadness overshadowing the experience… an unavoidable and very important part of the experience I suppose. The whole experience of being on Lakota lands and with the Lakota people, I can only express as, “My life will never be the same.”
I am honored to have been given permission to include this poem on my blog:

Pushed Down and Stepped On ~ Lawrence J. Janis

We are here, we survived
We got this far.,
Our parents got us here,
Their parents got them here,
We got this far.

We were pushed down and stepped on.
When once we were free.

They put us on this place,
Called the agency.

They fenced us in... we had to ask to move.

And to push down and step on us harder.

They didn't let us hunt for food.
And if we did... we were labeled hostile,
And hunted down.

And to push down and step on us harder.

They gave us rations as they saw fit.
If we didn't do as they said,
They cut our rations and we were starved.

To push down and step on us harder.

They gave us a plow, a few tools, a horse and a cow.
And told us to live like them.

To push down  and step on us harder.

After we started to adapt,
To try to live with a plow and a cow
They changed the rules.

To push down and step on us harder!

They started to act.
To take more land.
The allotment was a tricky plan
They took more land.

To push down and step on us harder!

They took our children away from us.
They put them in boarding schools.

They took the language
And split our families.
They took our pride.

To push down and step on us harder!

They put an outlaw on our religion.
We prayed in secret.
They broke our spirit.

To push down and step on us harder!

They gave us alcohol!
Fire water, to destroy each other!

But we forgave and we forgot.
And we fought and died for them, when the great wars came.

To push down and step on us harder!

They had to humor us.
They gave the anthro's, a study plan.
To come up with the New Deal.

To push down and step on us harder!

The put, another act.
The anthro's came up... with the IRA.

And the government took out the I... so we couldn't see.

We reorganized, we acted good.
We plowed and we hayed.

We lost our pride and we got it back.
They broke our spirit, we became more spiritual.

We are here... we survived.
We got this far.

To push down and step on us harder!!!

TO LIVE AND BE HAPPY, WITHOUT DRUGS AND ALCOHOL.

THE BLACK HILLS ARE NOT FOR SALE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LJ Janis (Isakip Kiya)
 



Ozzie’s General store at Sutherland, Nebraska refused to let me pay for my meal and allowed me to spend as much time as needed on my laptop at one of their tables… THANK YOU!!!

Behind a truck stop just outside Maxwell, Nebraska on I-80, I was preparing to camp in a cornfield so as to be near a place for coffee and breakfast the next morning when someone yelled at me. I looked up to see a young man who had these really huge holes in his ears with plastic see thru inserts in them. I figured he was there to tell me that I could not pitch my tent on their property. I was wrong, he introduced himself as Rudy and told me I was welcome to spend the night in an empty semi trailer they usually used as storage. There were chairs in it and it was a nice shelter from the weather. Rudy came out and talked with me at length several times as he did not get off until 10:00pm and they were not busy in the truck repair shop that he worked in. Just after Rudy and his boss closed shop, Rudy came back to the trailer and told me I had really helped him and he had enjoyed very much talking with me. He handed me some money and absolutely insisted on paying for my breakfast the next morning!

At Maxwell, Nebraska, David Tolle, who was working at the small convenience store near I-80, took a real interest in what I was doing and asked a lot of questions. I had mentioned to him that I would probably camp somewhere near the store for the night. David came up to me later and told me he was friends with the managers of a local Christian campground called Maranatha and that he had already called and asked permission for me to stay the night. I told him I was leery of Christian groups ‘cause they can be a total pain in the ass! He assured me that no one would bother me. He drove me out and introduced me to the manager who showed me where the showers (hallelujah!) were and instructed me to camp wherever and enjoy! No one bothered me at all and the next morning David showed up to drive me back to the highway! David also said he had called two different newspapers and told them about my story. They both promised to cover it… neither showed up. I’m quite used to it, but it obviously bothered David. What a caring person he is. I expressed my gratitude for getting me to a hot shower and for trying to get the newspaper coverage!!     

 

           

    

FROM THE MIDDLE OF MONTANA
Greetings from the middle of Montana! To be more exact, I’m in a room at the Corral Motel in Harlowton and just out my window is a herd of about 30 goats. Watching them is relaxing; they just don’t give a damn.

From Twisp, WA. I continued down U.S route 97 to Waterville, WA. the home of Dan Augustson, owner of Elite Gallery and Gifts in Waterville, WA. I told earlier of having met his son, Chris on the road and his
hooking me up with his father to create some beautiful and unique trading chips (wooden business cards!) for me. As Waterville was about ten miles off my intended route down U.S. 97, Dan picked me up and took me to his shop where he and I came up with exactly what I wanted on my trading chips. Dan and his wife Debbie’s shop, Elite Gallery & Gifts are a very unique operation. His talents in woodworking are incredible! Their prices were so realistic I was truly astonished. The prices are reasonable enough that the extra costs of shipping would not be a deterrent to keep me from using them in the future over local gift shops in my area.  Both Dan and Debbie’s imagination and ability to come up with extremely unique and special gifts are also incredible! www.tradingchips.com. They had me over to their home for a wonderful grilled steak dinner! Dan’s son Chris came over and visited with me as well. Over their Elite Gallery & Gifts store was an apartment with all life’s wonderful conveniences which they offered me for the night! I had a nice desk from which to work on my laptop and the company of two wonderful cats, one of which insisted on sleeping on top of me.

The next morning Dan took me over to The Blue Rooster Restaurant for a wonderful breakfast. I met the owners, Bruce and Cathy Clark and gave them my card. Evidently Bruce had looked at my website while I was eating breakfast. As I tried to pay for my coffee refill, which he would not accept, he nodded toward his wife and said, “Steve… uh… we…. uh… uh… our son… he… uh…” I stopped him, I saw the tears in both their eyes, I said, “You do not have to go any farther, I know, I am so very sorry for your loss.” They took several pictures of me and they both hugged me repeatedly and thanked me for walking and for carrying my beautiful “LOVE LIFE” sign and for continually reminding everyone. They too have faced the horror, and they too… want no other parent to face that same horror! Dan’s wife drove me back to the highway and we had a wonderful conversation. Her sister had recently lost a son to suicide as well; she was very concerned for her and the way she was coping.

As I neared East Wenatchee, WA., a friend of Dan Auguston’s stopped and insisted on driving me around to different places so I could do some much needed shopping! Now that was awesome! What a wonderful person he was! He had been in a serious motorcycle wreck which left him with some neurological problems and caused him to take early retirement. He spoke of how it made him so much more appreciative of life and how it caused him to truly appreciate the “LOVE LIFE” sign over my head.

A couple days later as I walked down that lonely four lane and very busy highway, I heard to my right,  yelled very loud and energetically, “I love ya brother!” I looked up to see an arm waving vigorously as he sped past! I’m fairly certain it was Dan’s son Chris…. I love ya too brother!

In Pullman, Washington, the home of Washington State University, the sister city to Moscow, Idaho, the Moscow-Pullman Daily News covered the story of my walk through their area. Geoff Crimmins, the photo editor for the paper had called me earlier and gave me a two hour window of when he would show up to me photo me as I walked out of Pullman. I was walking along and heard from across the road, “you’re taking the wrong picture man!” I looked across to my right and there were two big burly guys still yelling, “No man, you’re taking the wrong picture man!” I looked up in front of me and there was Geoff  Crimmins taking pictures of me, running past him was an absolutely knock down gorgeous young blonde in skin tight pink shorts and tank top! I agreed with the two big burly guys… by the way.

Just south of Lewiston, Idaho, at a campground and river access, I approached a young man and woman who were next to their truck parked near the river. I approached them so as to ask them if there were a fee for camping in the area. I was new to Idaho and I always try to stick to the rules. I saw a bottle of whiskey on the tailgate of the truck and they sounded intoxicated. But I saw no one else nearby and so I decided to ask them. I said, “Hello, excuse me please.” The guy, who was about 25 to 30 and about 6’5” tall, turned and said, “Hi and goodbye!” “Oops”, I thought, “Wrong guy to ask!” As I was turning to leave, his girlfriend started to reprimand him for being rude to me. So the guy, trying to appease his girlfriend, made an attempt to be cordial, it was not a good attempt. He asked what it was that I had wanted. I told him never mind that it was no longer important and attempted to leave. He started yelling at me to tell him what I had wanted. Trying to appease him, I told him I had simply wanted to ask a question. He then said, “So, ask the fucking question!” And I said something I should not have said to a drunk man, “Sir, please do not speak to me in that tone of voice!” Well, he came at me full force and shoved me, 65 pounds of gear hanging on my back and all! Down I went, I didn’t have a chance with all that weight on my back, I felt like Humpty Dumpty! And like Humpty Dumpty, I couldn’t get back up again; I was strapped into all that weight. Then he towered over me yelling, “Love life huh, you don’t look like you’re fuckin’ lovin’ life now!” His girlfriend grabbed him and kept telling him to stop. Then I made another stupid mistake while lying there on my back totally helpless, I reached in my pocket for my cell phone! He grabbed my arm and the girlfriend took my phone. I do not remember ever feeling any more helpless in my life as I did in that moment. I begged for my phone back. I promised them that I would not call the police if they would only return my cell phone. My phone is my only connection when I’m out there on the road sometimes up to 50 miles away from anything; it has become very important to me. The girl eventually gave my phone back as she kept repeating that I had a problem and was a mental case. I did tell him that what he had just done was a very cowardly act! He just shrugged, I’m damn lucky he didn’t kill me; I was already on my back for saying something stupid!  They walked back over to their truck and left me alone. I was finally able to get my butt up off the ground. I didn’t seem to be hurt too badly, I had but a scratch on my elbow. The fall had broken my “LOVE LIFE” sign and the fiberglass rods which attached it to my backpack. And I had fallen right on top of my laptop which was packed in the back of the pack and so I was quite concerned about that.

I walked back toward the highway, trying to decide whether I should call the police or not. My dilemma being, these are the very type of individuals I want to help in life! I want to help and troubled youth, not get them in trouble! But as they were driving up the long gravel road toward the highway I decided I should call the police because of his drunken condition and it was my duty to get him off the road. I dialed 911 and gave the license number. They pulled them over while I was still on the phone with the dispatcher. Eventually, a deputy with the Nez Perce County, Idaho sheriff’s department, Jerry Florence, came out to Upper Hogg Island, the campground on U. S. routes 95 and 12 where it all happened. He interviewed me and took pictures of the tiny scratch on my elbow. He asked if I was hurt anywhere else and I told him, “Nowhere else except my pride and my feelings.” I couldn’t help it… I choked up. The deputy saw it at once and very compassionately asked, “Hey, you okay buddy?” I answered yes and got it together. He asked me to go with him to where two other officers, another deputy and an Idaho state trooper had the couple in custody so I could identify them. When we got there I identified them. The officers asked if I wanted to press charges and I told them I did not because I knew the DUI charges would be hard enough on him. The two officers who had arrested him nearly two hours before, looked dumbfounded! I asked, You did give him a sobriety test didn’t you?” They had not! I had explained to the dispatcher that the driver was very seriously intoxicated and yet he had not been tested! They immediately proceeded to test him and he passed! He drove away! As they were pulling past me, the young lady mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.” Jerry Florence whispered to me, “Maybe she’ll get rid of that idiot!” “I hope so” I said. Jerry drove me back to Upper Hogg Island and as I was getting out of the car he said, “That guy looked damned intoxicated to me, and he has a history of violence.” He also told me that because of what had happened, Idaho law says the guy would have to attend anger management classes.

The really good thing was, I was able to take the choice campsite my attacker had previously occupied and my laptop was just fine! The elbow healed in about a week, but it took a little longer for my hurt feelings. I had been bragging only that morning, “twenty three thousand miles and I have never received a scratch from anyone!” Hey, that’s still not a bad record though… huh? And please do not think badly of the people in Idaho, they treated me wonderfully! That unfortunate event could have taken place anywhere!

A man by the name of Chris Wise pulled up alongside me in his pickup and handed me a brown paper sack and said, “Here I saw ya and went home and fixed ya a “Scooby sack”. It had a sandwich, a banana, and some other healthy type snacks. I had never heard the term “Scooby sack” before? Walking through Idaho I just kept thinking of the movie, “A River runs through it”. The distance of the entire state on the route I walked, I had a river next to me. It was wonderful to watch how the state’s residents utilized this wonderful gift from nature. Every day I saw groups of people and families floating down the Clearwater River in their rubber rafts and inner tubes. They would fasten them all together and they would attach floating coolers for their beer, pop, and snacks . They just float along laughing and having a blast. And most waved vigorously when they spotted my sign! I loved it!

Just west of Orofino, ID. I stopped to pick some blackberries next to a highway pullover alongside the beautiful Clearwater River. Ron and Jane from Houston, Texas were already there picking the free bounty. Their travel trailer was parked in the pullover and they invited me in for some breakfast and coffee.
In a little restaurant not far out of Orofino, my waitress, Lisa, commented on how pleasing my “LOVE LIFE” sign was to her. She told me that when she was giving birth to her third child she contracted meningitis and went into a coma for weeks. After coming out of the coma she was left with memory problems. Problems so severe she was unable to return to her profession as a trauma nurse! She explained that she chose being a waitress because she was still able to interact with people. She said, “You can forget which way someone wants their eggs but not which medicine to administer!” She told me she missed being a nurse but that she enjoyed being a waitress very much. She told me that having her life, her children, and a wonderful and caring husband was the most important thing! It radiated from Lisa, she does indeed… “LOVE LIFE”!

Just past Orofino on U.S. route 12, a guy pulls over with his truck and travel trailer just in front of me. He walks up to me with a big smile on his face and says, “I remember you but I bet you don’t remember me.” I was shocked at myself but I did indeed remember him. I said, “You are the guy I met on U.S route 50 in the Nevada desert in 2001. You wrote an article about me for the paper you worked for, a Tacoma, Washington paper.” Neither of us could believe I remembered him. He explained that not only had he written about me for his paper, he had put me in his book. “In search of America’s Heartbeat” by Bob Mottram. Bob and his wife are now retired and they spend most of their time driving the back roads of America. They gave me some delicious cheese and wheat crackers for the road.  That night, I found a delightful little campsite right on the river. Just after I pitched my tent, a young man pulled in on his motorcycle to spend the night. He was a soldier named Stephen who was being sent to Afghanistan in September. He was currently on his way to the big annual bike gathering at Sturgis, South Dakota. He was from Buffalo, NY but was stationed in Washington. He gave me one of his military issue MRE’s. I love them, but they are too heavy and too expensive for me to carry. We sat and talked a long time as we ate our delicious prepackaged meals. Stephen was nice company for the evening. The next morning as he was pulling out on his bike he yelled to me, “Thanks for helping other people!” what a fine young man! I told him my thoughts and prayers would be with him. He said he would stay in contact with me from Afghanistan

Greta, a senior at the University of Montana studying to be a photo journalist stopped on her way back to school in Missoula. She took lots of pictures and shared her fresh cherries and smoked almonds with me. She found a couple envelopes and put small amounts in them for herself and insisted on giving me the larger remaining portions. She was a beautiful young lady with a beautiful smile! I love young people! My little girl was beautiful and had a beautiful smile.

Just outside of Missoula, Montana, Mike stopped on his bike. He had already pedaled from Portland, Oregon and was on his way to Ney York City. He said he had seen a newspaper article about me in the Orofino, Idaho newspaper. We talked for a little while and then Mike rode off. About an hour or so after Mike left, I looked up in front of me and the sky was completely black! Lightening started flashing and each time it flashed it seemed to be getting closer to me! I’ve been in a lot of storms, but this one was looking much uglier than most! Just as the huge rain drops started to hit me I bowed my head and said, “Father, this is an excellent opportunity for you to prove that old adage, God takes care of babies and fools!” I looked up and a new Toyota Land Cruiser had pulled over in front of me! It was two young ladies from Spokane, Washington and both were yelling for me to hurry up and get in! Just as I got me and all my gear in the sky just opened up! Rain, snow, hail, you name it, it all came down! We had to pull over twice and wait for it to subside. The slush was at least 8 inches deep on the road with a solid sheet of ice under it! That four wheel drive vehicle was sliding all over the place! In about a five mile stretch, you could barely see! I asked my rescuers to look out for Mike on his bicycle; I was really concerned for him. The hail was doing damage to the vehicle I was sure. The driver told me she had bought a whole sack of Arby’s roast beef sandwiches at Missoula and I was welcome to the rest of them… wow! They were still hot! God, did they taste good! The storm subsided some and I asked them to drop me off at Stoney’s Conneco station, about twelve miles from where they had rescued me. Mike was there, he said he had just made it in under the protective canopy of the gas station when the storm hit. It continued for a couple of hours with lots of hail and rain but it never did get as bad there as it was when it hit me earlier. I was telling the two cashiers at Stoney’s about the severity of the storm and they both said that was normal weather for Montana. Three people behind me said they were from that area and they had never seen anything like it before! And particularly not in August! The people at Stoney’s were wonderful to all of his waiting out the storm. There were several couples on motorcycles whom had sought refuge in the remote gas station as well. We drank a lot of coffee.

Just south of the Bob Marshal Wilderness in the Blackfoot drainage area, Inky Ford and Daniel Gallachei stopped to talk. Inky was very excited as she had heard my story on a podcast of the NPR “Hearing Voices” program. We talked for quite a while; Daniel asked that I keep in my thoughts, his son who was having problems. Inky was the first person I encountered who had heard my story on NPR.

I stopped at the Stray Bullet Soup and Sandwich Shop in Ovando, Montana and ate one of the best sandwiches I have ever eaten in my entire life!! And that includes New York City deli’s…. I kid you not! I gave my card to the really cool waitress and she and Kathy from next door at the Blackfoot Angler went on line and checked out my website while I was eating that monster sandwich. The waitress came over and told me that Kathy insisted on paying for my meal!

The next day, Sunday, The Mannix family stopped and insisted I take the halves of two sandwiches they were unable to finish fro their earlier lunch in town. They were sandwiches from the Stray Bullet! They had driven like 30 miles to eat there! They told me that the land on both sides of the road where I was walking belonged to the Mannix family. A few hours later, I stopped at a house to ask for water, the name on the mailbox was Mannix. It was the home of Dave Mannix, brother to the other Mannix I had met earlier. Not only did Dave give me water, he invited me into his beautiful home and his wife cooked me up two hamburgers and put together a big sack of food for me for the road! The Mannix family of Montana does not want anyone leaving their area hungry! The next day as I was walking past one ranch I saw a big Black Angus bull which had come up lame. As I neared the house I spotted a man walking toward his truck and yelled at him. I told him of the bull and he sent his daughter and a friend to check on it. His name was Paul and he wanted to hear my story. His friend Wayne stopped by and the three of us talked and had a beer. Paul offered to let me spend the night in one of his out buildings but it was too early yet. A big pronghorn antelope stood within 50 feet of me and seemed to be posing. He even stepped toward me to try to figure out what I was. I lifted up my camera phone to capture the wonderful moment…. My battery was dead! Ever hear an antelope laugh. Charlene stopped to take my picture. We talked of her bipolar son and the importance of loving life!

Walking through Helena, a man walked up behind me and inquired how far I was walking. I told him my story he introduced himself as Sam, wished me well and walked down a side street. Later that evening, someone yelled at me, it was Sam getting out of a car from across the street. In his hand was a large sack of food! He said, “God bless you!” And then he was gone. In East Helena after I had pitched my tent and made camp I was approached by a police officer and an auxiliary officer saying they had been informed by a concerned citizen that someone was camping there. He told me that on occasion, there were undesirables who frequented the spot and consumed their beer. I told him that I had just picked up all the beer cans and other trash and showed him the sacks I had put it all in. The officer looked at my card and told me he had seen me walking earlier and was convinced I was not an axe murderer or anything. He said that it was city property I was on and as long as I left the next morning, he saw no problem with me staying. As they were walking off through the trees I heard him say to the auxiliary officer, “I wonder why the concerned citizens didn’t clean up the place?” That made me smile.

In White Sulfur Springs, Montana I met Lisa out on the road and we talked at length. I mentioned to her that my right foot had been bothering me a lot and was quite painful sometimes. About an hour later as I was standing in a local convenience store getting ready to pay for my purchases, Lisa walked in. She handed me two shoe inserts for the heels she had been given by a doctor. She explained that they would act as shock absorbers and help relieve the pain. Now was that sweet or what!! I have been using them and they seem to be helping.

just outside of White Sulfur Springs I saw a beautiful lake and it looked like camping might be allowed there. I spotted a travel trailer camped there and  I approached it to inquire whether it was free camping or not. Felix came out of the trailer and we started talking. He told me there were no fees and he and his wife Mary had been there for a week. He invited me inside to meet his wife Mary and fixed me some chili. They were from a little town in Arizona called Baghdad. Felix started quoting poetry for me. He quoted several poems and a couple Robert Service poems, including the Ballad of Sam McGee! He quoted them all word for word! His wife Mary seemed to enjoy it just as much as I did. He recited them beautifully and passionately! It was wonderful! What an entertaining evening, on a beautiful Montana lake surrounded by mountains and listening to wonderful poetry! Beats the hell out of television!

    

Near Lake Steven's, a guy stopped and asked if I needed anything. He said he always stopped for those he saw on the highway toting a full backpack as he was a hiker. He told me he had hiked the Appalachian Trail in '99. This perked up my ears as I too had been attempting a thru-hike of the "AT" in '99. He invited me to McDonald's for some breakfast. I asked him what his trail name (nicknames given on the trail) had been and he said he only went by his real name, Mike. As we sat there I kept thinking he looked familiar to me, and so we kept the investigation going as to whether we had crossed paths or not. Well, it turns out that we actually spent two nights together in the same cabin at Goose Creek Cabins near Blairsville, Georgia near the "AT". That sixth degrees of separation is alive and well in my life! Now, when sharing my "AT" album and friends ask who the guy with the bushy white hair and beard is standing next to me, instead of saying, "Beats the hell outa' me!" I can say, "Why that's Mike, I'll never forget him!"

On a back road on my way over to route 11 for my walk into Bellingham, I had to walk by fields full of ripe strawberries. The smell was overpowering and had my mouth watering! A car pulls up beside me with two smiling young ladies in it. "Hi" they said as they handed me a full quart of fresh picked strawberries. "We work for Sakuma Brothers Market Stand and we all wanted you to have these." No sooner had they pulled away and another vehicle pulled up with two young  and pretty smiling girls. They handed me a small bag and one said, "Here, they forgot to bring you the shortcakes!" While they were still there, a pickup with two young men pulled up and greeted the three of us. One young lady said, "They work with us too." I said, "Did you guy's bring the whipped cream?" I'm not so sure they needed whipped cream, those were some of the best strawberries I had ever eaten and the homemade shortcakes were indeed the best I had ever eaten in my life!

In Bow, Washington on route 11, Chuckanut Drive, I went into the Rhododendron Cafe to get out of the rain and get something to eat. Once inside, I realized it was a more up scale restaurant than I would have chosen... had I had a choice, it was the only act in town. So I ordered but soup and coffee. It was a huge portion and was delicious! A lady came to my table curious about my "LOVE LIFE" sign near the door and asked what I was doing. She introduced herself as Carol Shank. owner of the cafe and told me she had my meal covered there would be no charge!

I was lost in Bellingham, Washington and had asked several people directions and to no avail. I spotted a welcome sight, a kiosk with a sign over it which said, "Bellingham Info" Well, the map at the kiosk left me even more confused than I had been before. As I was standing there frustrated I looked up over the map and there was a sign which stated, "IF YOU ARE LOST IN BELLINGHAM BLAME THE FOUR CITIES THAT BECAME BELLINGHAM" I'm not real big on blaming things so I looked around for someone else to ask. I approached a lady walking toward me and asked if she could direct me to Broadway. She looked at me as though I was a leper, but she acknowledged that she did know how to get to Broadway and started giving me directions. I was about 15 feet from her and I took a step closer to her so as to hear over the downtown traffic. She frantically stuck her hands out in front of her and said, "Don't come any closer to me or you will have to get your directions elsewhere!" I said, "Ma'am?" She said, "I'm serious, do not come any closer!" I said, "Ma'am, are you infectious or something, do you have a contagious disease?" "That's it!" she said throwing her hands up in the air, "You'll get no directions from me!" Don't blame me lady... blame those four cities!

Just outside Bellingham as I was walking past a very nice home, a very pretty young lady stepped out onto her driveway and asked if I needed anything. I told her I could use some fresh water. I told her my story and she went in and got her husband so he could hear my story as well. They were Peter and Michelle Parsons and they invited me in their home for the night! Peter was an engineer on a factory fishing boat out of Dutch Harbor, Alaska that fished the Bering Sea. He was waiting for the new season to begin. Michelle said she hoped he wouldn't be out for five month's like he was the last time. We had fantastic conversation over a dinner of fresh fish, a perk from Peter's occupation. Michele did my laundry and fixed me up with energy bars and fresh and dried fruit for my next days journey. I left there with full stomach, clean clothes and refreshed from a hot shower! They were such great people and... I have two new friends!
Next day, I was but a few miles from the home of Michelle and Peter, I stopped and stripped off my pack and ducked into the bushes to relieve myself. When I stepped back out, I saw two cold bottles of water next to my pack. Guess I had not been as incognito as I thought. As I was standing there enjoying one of the bottles of water, I heard, "You want something to eat?" I looked up to see a man about my age holding a plate full of fried chicken and vegetables in front of him. "I see you found your water, I live in the house just in back of us, you can't see it for all the large bushes." He told me that he was a Christian and that Bellingham has a lot of homeless and that he feeds all that he can. I thanked him and we talked awhile as he had become very interested in what I was doing.

It's "from rags to riches" out here on the road, one day I'm in a fine home spending the night and the next I have to spend an hour hacking out a tent space from the briar's with my pocket knife. I ended up with a nice flat tent site and very well hidden from the passing auto's.
In the Big Rock Cafe & Grocery at Mount Vernon, Washington, as I was paying for my purchases, Randy Audette the owner said, "Where you headed Mr. Love Life?" I told him I was going up to Blaine and the walking to Key West. He gave me permission to tent ON his property! Great, no hacking with my knife and I have a place to get fresh coffee the next morning! He also let me sit at one of the cafes tables and work at my laptop. The very cute bartender/waitress was bending down trying to help me find an electrical outlet and the zipper on her very tight jeans broke! "Damn!" she said, "Hey, anybody got some safety pins?" A couple female patrons looked in their purses to no avail. A few minutes later as she passed me on her way to a customers table I saw that she had solved her problem. She had taken four of those large black and chrome, very strong paper clips and clipped them up the front of her jeans doing the job of the zipper. I complimented her on her ingenuity. She just laughed, what a wonderful personality, she had not a care as to how it looked! She just had a job to do. I love women like that.

As I walked along the road facing the traffic as usual and carrying my beautiful "LOVE LIFE" sign over my head and minding my own business... a really beat up older car drove past me and the driver stuck his head out the window and yelled, "Idiot!" Just as I turned to see the source of the insult,I heard tires screeching. About four cars in front of the name caller a car had made an abrupt left turn. Because the other drivers in front of him were looking at the road and minding their own business, they did not have to slam on their brakes and swerve to miss the car in front of them... by inches! This maneuver caused him to be at a complete stop as I walked past him with hand over head pointing backwards toward my "LOVE LIFE" sign. Poetic Justice had me smiling broadly, you should have seen his face as he tried with all his might not to look over my way!

The evening I walked into Blaine, Washington, I met the young attendant at a convenience store. His name was Ryan, he was 28 years old. He told me he had congestive heart failure at 26 years old! The doctors told him that part oof his heart was twice the size of normal. There was no one there but he and I and he kept stepping out to smoke cigarettes. He told me that he drank as well! I asked, had not the doctors advised him to stay away from tobacco and alcohol? He said that indeed they had but the heart disorder he suffered from was hereditary and he said he figured it wouldn't matter one way or the other. I chewed him out with a whole lot of love attached. He was such a sweet and sensitive young man. I told him the same things that I say to those who tell me they are considering ending their lives. I explained to him that he doesn't have the right to be that careless with his life, that it doesn't belong just to him and that he owes it to the people who love him to take care of himself and to try and live as long as he can! We talked a very long time and I do pray that my words had an effect on him. He did say he would try to start looking at his situation differently.
I found a spot behind the store where Ryan worked to pitch my tent and went there the next morning for coffee. I started up a conversation with the lady working the morning shift. As soon as I told her why I carried "LOVE LIFE" over my head, she shared with me that both her parents had committed suicide at the same time less than three years before! We talked a lot about how we have to forgive those who commit such a self centered act because they are in so much emotional pain they do not realize they are being self centered. They become convinced they are doing the right and the only thing left to do. I told her I felt that the forgiveness is for the benefit of the one forgiving, it is a form of closure. I told her I felt that it helps heal the hearts of those of us left behind. She said she was working on that. I had never ran into anyone before who had lost their parents to a double suicide.

In Blaine, I walked up to the Canadian border and stood at the Peace Arch and took several pictures. I touched both the water and the border to signify going to the northwest corner of the U.S. I am most definitely.... now heading home! Also in Blaine, a guy drove past an shouted, "What the f--- is there to love about it!" I shouted back instantly, "Breathing!" And of course, he didn't stop so I could explain to him how simple life truly is... and how we start to really love it by just loving and appreciating the act of breathing! Life is a gift, a gift to be appreciated and enjoyed. We need to work very hard at never ever complaining... about anything! It is such a useless waste of energy. Energy we could be using to look at our own faults and then correct them. I have found that in looking at my own faults... I don't see so much fault in others to complain about.
Just outside of Blaine a guy by the name of JJ stopped and offered me something to eat and a spot to rest for awhile. I said sure and he told me it was at the end of the street we were facing and that he lived in a bright purple house. I walked on down there and that house was absolutely... BRIGHT PURPLE! I loved it! I sat out on their front porch with JJ and his fiance Karen (They're getting married today, 7/12/09.... congratulations guys!) and their friends Scott and Lisa. Lisa gave me a tiny glass turtle with the head broken, she said it was broken but it had been her grandmothers and her grandmother had been an extremely stubborn person. She said she felt it took stubbornness to do what I do. I agreed with her and thanked her for giving me such a treasured gift! Karen heads up an organization called The Red Egg Project which is dedicated to the homeless and the less fortunate. I ate tamales, charged my laptop and phone, said my goodbyes to those wonderfully sweet people and was gone on to my next adventure!

Walking down a beautiful part of rout 9 near Acme, WA., and passing by a beautiful large home with a gorgeous view of Mt. Baker, I was confronted by a very tall and slender young man stepping out of the entrance to the home. He looked like he had been sleeping on the streets for a week, he did not look like he belonged to that house. He excitedly introduced himself as Colin and asked me to follow him into the beautiful home. "You'll have to excuse the confusion" he said, "we're all busy preparing for a wedding this coming Saturday but it just isn't every day someone walks by with a LOVE LIFE sign over their head." He led me into a kitchen full of busy people and introduced me and told everyone of my sign. His father immediately took my water jug and began filling it, his mother put a plate full of homemade cookies under my nose. A beautiful young woman came down the stairs and I asked if she were the bride to be. She said yes. I thanked them for their hospitality but explained that I didn't want to add more chaos to what they were already experiencing. They all laughed and said goodbye. I was looking for Colin to thank him and he was out front on his cell phone explaining directions to friends flying into Seattle for the wedding while he was on his knees picking and eating wild strawberries. "Are you related to the groom or the bride?" I asked Colin. "I am the groom." replied Colin. we talked a little while but he was way too busy taking care of last minute things for his wedding. He did have time to tell me he was getting married to the most wonderful and the most beautiful woman in the world! What a cool family!!

A young mother stopped with her son and daughter and asked to take my picture and gave me a pint of fresh raspberries...yum!

In Sedro-Wooley, Washington I was approached by a man and woman who were both covered with beautiful tattoo's and asked if they could take my picture. I said, "Yes, as long as I get to take yours!" They were Tim and Lise Sconce of Tiny Tim's Tattoo's in Sedro Wooley. They asked if anyone ever treated me harshly and I said, "Not really, other than someone giving me the finger occasionally... actually that hasn't happened this trip yet... I'm kind of disappointed." We talked a little while and I told him I was friends with Dayna Beach tattooist, Bob The Hammer and Tim had heard of him. We said our goodbyes and as they were pulling out I heard, "Steve!" I looked up and Tiny Tim was holding up that large tattooed arm and flipped me off! Now was that thoughtful or what!! It's the little things that get me... I think I'm going to cry.

On route 20 walking through the Northern Cascade National Park, a delightful gentleman named Tom took me to his campsite and cooked me a wonderful meal of sausage, peppers, onions, and zucchini. He had a French press to make the awesome coffee with! The meal was wonderful as was the conversation. He was a very interesting man and had spent several years living in Russia. We also talked of his 21-year-old daughter who had not spoken to him in five years! I could not begin to imagine the pain if my two babies were still alive and I was unable to talk to them!

While still in the Northern Cascades National Park I met Blake and Sue from Bakersfield, California who also invited me to their campsite. Sue's cousin Rob, who works in the park, came by and we cut sticks to cook our steaks on and drank some wine. It rained the whole time! We laughed and told stories and had a blast! Rob and I discussed whether we really do reap what we sow in life.... that one, I have no doubts about! Rob also told us a great story: A friend of Rob's who is a ranger in the park and as Mark put it, "One of the most layed back guys you could ever meet." Rob said that his ranger friend had to approach a camper in the park over some violation he had committed. The camper just happened to be one of those Christian guys who walks the country toting a cross over his shoulder (the sissies put wheels on 'em.) The cross carrier started arguing with Rob's layed back ranger friend and refusing to comply! Well, it ended up in a fist fight! We laughed and laughed over that one. Blake and Sue decided to go to their cousins home for the night and so they let me use their already pitched large and very dry tent for the night! I keep meeting all these wonderful new friends!

Also in the Nothern Cascades National Park, Russell and Anneliese Prononcha from Spokane, Washington stopped in their motor home and invited me in for great conversation and a bowl of chili! We talked for a couple hours and they sent me off with a box of Granola bars, a package of hot dogs, and that wonderful heart warming feeling you get after meetng great people and acquiring new friends!!

At Mazama, while sitting at a table outside having my wonderful first cup of coffee, a lady named Boo Turner stopped and asked me how the walk was going as her and her teen-aged son had seen me the day before walking over Washington Pass. We talked awhile and she invited me to breakfast at her home with her and her son. She works for a company which makes hiking socks and a company which makes hiking boots! She is going to try to get me some socks and a pair of boots! And the breakfast was good too! Boo called the local newspaper and when I made it to Twisp, WA., I went to the office of the newspaper and a wonderful lady named Joyce interviewed me and then took me to a delightful little cafe and bakery across the street and treated me to lunch! I had the best eclair I ever ate!

Leaving the delightful little town of Twisp I was walking past the Blue Spruce Motel and saw a strikingly beautiful young woman tending to the flowers in the motel yard. Her baby daughter was in a stroller watching mommy. Mommy looked up at me and said, "Hey, you need a place to stay tonight? I have one room that hasn't been remodeled yet and it has an ugly shower, I can let you have it for the night." I said, "Thank you, yes! There is no such thing as an ugly shower!" The shower was beautiful! Nicole's heart was beautiful! She brought me several frozen dinners that she said had been left by previous guests. She also brought me Pepsi's and fresh peaches. She gave me the room for two nights.

 

    

    Man! Walkin' past all those wind farms on the Oregon/Washington border sure makes you feel small, each one of the three blades is 157 feet long! The tower they are attached to is about five stories!
    Near Toppenish, Washington, a young man stopped and inquired of my sign. He said he was 24 and made real good money working at the wind farms. He asked what my sign had done for me, had it changed my life? I told him it has changed my life so much that I think the letters comprising the words, "LOVE LIFE" had actually dripped down from the sign and entered through the top of my head! Then He told me he had attempted to take his life about three times. He hung his head down and said, " But I don't do that anymore." 
Then he raised up the shirt sleeve on his right arm and said, "Now I do this!" Up and down his arm were several cuts and burns, some, the size of the end of a coke bottle! He continued, "I do self mutilation." I said, "I am absolutely thrilled that you did not take your life! I can see in your eyes and hear in your voice, you are a very sensitive and caring individual. You are the ones that are most likely to attempt to end your own life. And the irony is.... you are the very ones the universe needs the most!" I told him how he didn't have the right to take his own life as it did not belong just to him. I told him of how we can do anything we want in this life, especially in this country, except, hurt other people. And suicide, I explained to him, goes way past just hurting others... It completely devastates the lives of those left behind... you just don't have the right to do it! I looked him in the eyes and I said, "Ya know what...... I love you!" That made and him pull his head back ,his eyes enlarge and just stare at me. I went on, "Yeah, let me tell you how a perfect stranger can love you like that. I can no longer give to them, all the love I have for my two babies... and it has to go somewhere, so... I put it toward the children of others who are still alive and can receive it." I could tell this touched him. He then said to me, "Well I promise I am never going to try to kill myself again!" "Fantastic!" I said, "Now, what about that stupid shit you're doing to yourself for attention?" I kept talking though, I didn't really want an answer from him... yet. " You know, The advent of DNA is really a fantastic discovery, it has proven just how completely unique we are... one from the other! Of the billions of people inhabiting the universe, we are all uniquely individual one from the other! This is a friggin' miracle!" His eyes enlarged again and he said, "I hadn't ever thought about that... wow!" I continued, "Now, if science has proven that each one of us are different from the other, doesn't that make us unique then, from each other? This time I let him answer, and he said, "Well, yes, I guess it does." And I said, "Then why do you have to get attention by cutting and burning yourself then?" He hung his head and said, "I guess I should stop it, I guess I should listen to all my friends and stop it for them." " No!" I said, "You should stop it for you! Your friends have been telling you to stop it for a long time... and you haven't stopped! When others tell you to stop, you simply go mutilate yourself again so they'll tell you to stop again! That's how you get the attention you mistakenly think you need!" He started crying, crying hard. I reached out so as to shake his hand, but I didn't let go, I continued to hold his hand and explained to him again how  the universe needs soft hearted individuals like himself who are sensitive enough to understand the problems of others.
    He kept shaking my hand and told me he really felt he was supposed to stop and talk to me and that he had been feeling an awful lot of guilt lately for what he had been doing to himself. With tears running down his cheeks, he said, "You really helped me sir, nobody has talked to me like that before sir." Now the tears are running down my cheeks. Let's all direct positive thoughts, prayers, whatever it is you do to send positive energy toward your fellow human being, please, do it for this fine and precious young man! PLEASE!

 Met a fine man named Philip. Philip is 47 and was driving a very nice BMW and appeared and seemed to be quite successful in life. He was very intelligent and very caring and extremely interested in what I was doing and he loved my sign!  Philip explained to me that he had only months before, married a woman quite a bit younger than him. He started describing his new bride to me. He said, with much exuberance, "She is the  most honest woman I have ever met in my life!' I have never met anyone else like her... she is special!" And then he added, "She's addicted to meth. She's at a treatment center near Yakima and I'm going to see her now." He explained to me that she was completely up front with him about her addiction from the first time they met, Every time he spoke of her, no matter what it was, his eyes lit up! Philip is very much in love with his wife, weaknesses and all! He said she had been to other treatment centers before and then relapsed each time and went back to the drug. He excitedly explained to me how this new facility was one of the best in the country and he felt this time was very promising for success. He said that the next weekend , as part of his wife's treatment, he would actually spend three days at the facility with her. He was so excited about everything concerning his wife, I don't know that I have ever seen a man any more in love with their wife than Philip!
    Philip told me that he was in for the long haul, that he married his wife knowing exactly what the deal was and that he was standing by her no matter what! He smiled when he told me that at first his wife's mother was totally against their marriage and has since changed her mind and told her daughter, "Philip may be the best thing that has ever happened to you." He was still smiling when he said, "That was nice that she said that... but I didn't need to hear it.... I've already made up my decision to follow through to the end, whatever that end may be. I'm not expecting any kind of guarantee... I just love my wife."
    I told Philip how very blessed his wife was to have found someone as dedicated and determined an individual as he. He immediately said, "I'm the one that's blessed! She is wonderful and she has taught me so very much about life and about my fellow human being and just so much more!"  I said, "Ya know Philip, I've heard of people like you before, but You may be the first one I've ever met." "What do you mean by tat?" Asked Philip. And I answered. "Someone that promises to absolutely and positively love someone unconditionally and then.... does!" He smiled. I was really starting to enjoy his smile, a sincere and meaningful smile.
    I just sat there listening to this 47-year-old man and being amazed at his determined devotion to his precious drug addicted wife. I asked, " I'll bet you had some friends who voiced their disapproval of your marriage to a woman admittedly addicted to meth?" "Oh, you just would not believe!" He said. I said, "Get new friends!" He laughed and said that was exactly the way he was treating it! 
    Okay, we're going to need some more of those positive thought exercises directed toward Philip and his precious little wife that they have all the strength they'll need to fight her addiction to that evil drug... PLEASE!!! 

    Walking down Washington RT. 821, Canyon Road, and following the Yakima River was a delight!  I stopped in one the U.S. Forest service campgrounds to see if I could bum some water from one of the campsites. I approached a big nice motor home and asked if the park had water. The guy I asked said, "Nah, but we do and we're gettin' ready to have lunch, would you care to join us?"  "OH Yeah!" Says I! It was the family of Ron and Donna Fox and son Randy. They had already prepared their plates and told me where everything was in their RV and told me to help myself to grilled hot dogs, potato salad, beans, olives, iced tea, etc. It was great food. Ron had just retired  and bought the motor home for he and Donna to live in permanently and travel the country. They were just passing through the Yakima area to visit their son Randy. We had great conversation and they all asked me a lot of questions about my walks. Doris offered to make me something for the road, I turned it down, as she would have had to cook up something.

    On 97 near Liberty, a guy with one of the blackest beard's I've ever seen stopped across the road from me and offered me a ride. He spoke very broken English, he explained that he was Russian but had been in the U.S. for twenty years. His name was Aleksandr Stepaoy. He told me that in the former Soviet Union, he and his whole family had been persecuted for their Christian beliefs. He said he spent three years in a Siberian prison, his brother spent six years and he had uncles who had spent as much as twenty years confined and even tortured for their beliefs. He pulled up his left trouser leg to reveal a horrible scar next to terribly deformed looking knee cap! In his strong accent, he said, "This is what the Communist's did to me for believing in Jesus Christ and for not going to Afghanistan to kill innocent people!" Damn! He explained that 22 of his family were now in the U.S. and they lived in a commune like environment there in Washington. He spoke very passionate and seemed very sincere. Now, I think I heard this right, I asked him to repeat it several times but the accent was so strong and he spoke so excitedly, I'm still not sure but it sounded like he was telling me that his father had managed to get his name on a list of people that Ronald Reagan asked to speak to when he visited Moscow. He said that the KGB kept constant vigilance over his father and would not allow him to speak to Reagan. And it sounded like he wasn't too crazy over Gorbachev. He asked once more he if I wanted a ride and was absolutely amazed that I wanted to walk instead of ride in his car! He just kept shaking his head and asking if I was sure. He also asked if I needed anything else and then drove away.
    The next morning, Aleksandr stopped again and introduced me to his brother, Peter. Peter, he said, was the one who had spent six years in a Siberian prison camp. They were on their way to Seattle to pick up a wrecked car to rebuild for a family member who needed a car. It's really hard to get bored out here on the highway... I may have to write a damn book!

    I entered a little restaurant called the Liberty Cafe. One of the waitress's had been outside and seen me walk up with my beautiful "LOVE LIFE" sign. As soon as I sat down, the three waitress's, Barb, Deb, and Carla, were asking me questions about my walk. They let me charge up my laptop and phone and kept coming over to ask more questions every time they had a spare moment. I just love it when that happens! When people show an actual interest and want to know more once they find out about my cause.... makes me feel like I'm accomplishing something. As soon as I was finished eating, the three of them came outside with m a and had one of their regular customers take pictures of us all together. These moments are the best! They each hugged me and they gave me some donuts to take with me. I felt loved and appreciated.

    A man in front of me on the highway had pulled into the driveway of his family's ranch and was sitting there on the tailgate of his truck waiting for me to approach him. His name was Sarn Salmon and he wanted to know exactly what I was doing. We talked awhile and he told me to throw my gear in the back of the truck, that he wanted to take me up to the house and refresh my water and see if he couldn't find me a few things to eat for my long stretch before I got to the next town. He came out of his house with water and a peanutbutter and jelly sandwich, a variety of energy bars, some cheese, and a full bottle of California Cabernet Sauvignon and a corkscrew! He offered to let me stay in his cow pasture for the night and I accepted! I found a spot where there was no cow shit and pitched my tent. I sat there eating cheese, sipping on my bottle of wine and occassionally shooing away a curious young bull so he wouldn't step on my nice laptop! I have it made, Life/God spoils me rotten!

    About twelve miles from Leavenworth, Washington, I went into a very charming little store to see if I could grab something to eat before they closed. The store was called Ingall's Creek Convenience Center. The guy behind the counter had a good laugh with me when I picked up a prepared sandwich out of the cooler and said, "Six dollars?!" "That's the date." He said, laughing. His name is Lonnie DelVillar and he and his wife Patrice own the store and Bed and Breakfast. As I sat at their coffee bar eating my $4.00 NOT $6.00 sandwich, Lonnie kept asking me questions about my walk. I asked him if It would be relatively easy to find a camping spot along the way to Leavenworth. He and Patrice talked about it and then she walked over to me and said they wanted to give me a room for the night in their Bed & Breakfast! I couldn't believe it! This place was so nice! She took me up stairs to the room and showed me around... she treated me as though I was a paying guest! I just couldn't believe how very nice the room was and how tastefully done and how well appointed everything was! Ambiance, ambiance! Just a perfect Bed & Breakfast! I've stayed in quite a few over the years and I've never seen one as nice as theirs! 
    Patrice came up later and invited me to have dinner with them... you know I accepted! We had a shrimp casserole dish and all kinds of other wonderful things to eat including, a huge bowl of some of the biggest strawberries I ever saw with fresh whipped cream! Everything was delicious! Lonnie and I talked until 1:00 in the morning... I'm usually in my tent and asleep by 8:00 pm. While we talked, Patrice had been preparing a little care package for me, consisting of energy bars, hand warmers, snack crackers, laundry detergent packets, etc.! I hated to leave that beautiful room come morning! Did I mention, I cry a lot out here on the road.
    If you are ever in the Washington state area of Leavenworth, Wenatchee, and Lake Chelan area, please treat yourself to a stay at Ingall's Creek Bed & Breakfast! Oh, and they have a wonderful area in back where they build a fire and love to sit around with their guest's and share... wonderful! Oh, and Lonnie also has a tour guide service for all the local wineries! You will not get bored when you stay with Lonnie and Patrice!

    I had just left Ingall's Creek when a young man yelled at me from his front yard and asked if I needed water or anything. I walked over and met Chris Augustson and his wife Heather.I talked awhile with he and his wife and gave them my card. About half an hour later Chris pulls up beside me on his dirt bike and hands me some wooden medallions with the Aztec calendar engraved on them and on the other side was an advertisement for his fathers business, Elite Gallery & Gifts in Waterville, Washington. The wooden pieces are called trading chips and are wooden business cards... cool! He had called his father, Dan, and told of our meeting. Dan then told him to go find me as he wanted to make some wooden trading chips for me! Soooo... when I drop back down from the Canadian border and head for Key West, I'm going to pass near Waterville and pick up my trading chips!

    About an hour after my meeting with Chris, I noticed to my left, two young men and a young lady all barefoot, all with very long hair, and all stooped and pulling weeds from a very large and very well organized garden. They started waving at me vigorously and expressing appreciation for my sign. I walked over and introduced myself to Lynn Lyons, Betsy Goodman, and William Mondragon. They were modern day hippie's and they were wonderful! They were so excited to meet me and they immediately began picking radishes, lettuce, onions, and scallions for me. They said they grow and nurture their organic garden so as to give to others and express their love for their fellow man by giving fresh food from the earth to all their neighbors and all they encounter! It was all delicious and the radishes were particularly wonderful! We talked at length about life and the beauty of it, about peace and they expressed the belief that man will never find peace until we first find it individually inside ourselves. I enjoyed them very much! They seemed delighted that I stopped to talk to them, they kept saying, "Thank you for taking the time to talk to us!" It was my pleasure! They fixed me up a little bag of the wonderful fresh veggies to take with me. I felt real good when I walked away, I looked back over my shoulder and the three of them were in different spots in the garden once again back to tending the earth's offerings... as if they had not stopped at all.

    In the Bavarian themed town of Leavenwoth, Washington, I was walking down the street enjoying the cheerful music being played by the live bands and, as I walked park a park bench, I noticed an electrical outlet next to the bench... a place to plug in my laptop and phone for charging! There was a lady, about my age, sitting on the bench reading a book. I asked her, "Hey, you think they would mind if I used some of their electricity to recharge my phone and laptop?" She looked up from her book and said, "Why not, even if they do mind, what are they going to do.... make you give it back?!" I love a smart-ass! I plugged in my equipment and she and I began a great conversation. She was very intelligent and so very knowledgeable. She was in town for a book signing at the local bookstore for her new book! Her name was Janey Bennett and her book is called "The Pale Surface Of Things" and it has won seven national awards! She described it to me at length and it sounds like a wonderful and enlightening read! We talked for about two hours and then she had to leave for her book signing. I hated to see her go, she was just so very interesting to talk to! On the promotional bookmark she gave me, her book is described as, "A fast moving novel in a Cretan village... kidnaps and killings, prayers and healing, ethics and ritual... and a darned good tale!" Am I on an adventure... or what!

    In the town of Skykomish, I spent the night at a hikers hostel, it's only a few miles from where the Pacific Crest Trail crosses at Steven's Pass. That evening, I went into a little bar called the Whistling Post. The bartender asked if I were a hiking the PCT and when I told her what I was doing, she said, "Holy Shit!" I told her that's what all texan's said to me after they found out what I was doing... she was from Arlington, Texas! She told me that less than two years before, her boyfriend had committed suicide! We talked about it and she was trying to listen but she was so busy with other customers, it was difficult for her. Evidently she heard more than I thought she did... the next morning, at the front desk was birthday card for me and a big batch of homemade cookies! The card read, Happy Birthday Steve!
Here are some cookies I made for you. God bless you!
Your story touched my heart! Suicide of a loved one has 
been my biggest trial by far. Thank you for reminding me
to Love Life, which I try to do every day. I am going to pass
your story and website to everyone I know! Please stop in 
and visit Skykomish, WA if you are ever back this way.
Happy Birthday from Delana
(I'm the Whistling Post bartender from Texas who said "Holy Shit!" to your story)

    I walked over Steven's Pass which was a great event for me. In December of 2003, I was about 15 miles west of Gold Bar walking in knee deep snow and headed for Steven's Pass when a Washington Highway patrol trooper stopped me and told me I could go no farther and as a matter of fact, I had to go back to Gold Bar! She said it was too dangerous and would be even more dangerous at Steven's Pass. She said she was going to flag down someone and ask them if they would take me back to Gold Bar. I was so pissed! I had been enjoying the absolute beauty of the snow covered Cascades! I said to her, "What if I refuse to take the ride?" She smiled and said, "Then I will follow you in my cruiser with the lights flashing all the way to Gold Bar." How embarassing would that be! She won. Then she told me that I had to hitch a ride from Gold Bar all the way to Leavenworth! It took two days to hitch a ride! There was an Expresso Cafe and a bar across from where I had to hitchhike, the bar fed me three times and the young lady working in the cafe brought me hot chocolate a few times.

    My boots I started out with in california finally wore out on me, rocks were starting to come in from the worn out bottoms. My right shoe always wears out prematurely because my foot had to bere-attached after a motorcycle wreck in 1969. So I didn't want to hit Danner Boots up just yet for a new pair because it's really not their fault the one boot wears out so fast. The left boot was still in great shape. (Danner Boots are awesome!) So, I thought I would buy a very cheap pair to get me by for awhile and the hit Danner up for another donated pair. In Monroe I saw a shoe repair store which sold boots, Quality Boot & Repair. Sometimes shoe repair places will sell used boots, so I thought I would give that. The owner, Kevin Pease, looked on his shelves and did not have anything used which would work for me. And all his new boots were high quality like Red Wings, etc. I just couldn't afford to pay $200.00 and up. But Kevin and I talked for a very long time and had a great time laughing and cutting up! Hee the slow economy was really starting t o hurt his shoe sales. After I left, I walked into a grocery store and found a cheap pair of boots for $19.00!
    Later that night, Kevin called to see if I was still in Monroe. He asked me to come by his store and see him before I left. I went in the next morning and Kevin said he and his girlfriend had checked out my website the night before and they had decided they just had to help me! He was apologizing that he hadn't caught me before I bought the cheap ones. I told him it was great because now I could give someone something as well, I would just drop them in the Goodwill box or something. Kevin was so picky about making sure my new boots fit just right and would be comfortable foR me over the long haul. He picked out a beautiful pair of waterproof Red Wings for me! They probably retailed for around $200.00!
    While I was trying on my new boots Kevin started getting real busy, he made two big sales while I was still in the store. I called him a few hours later while walking down the highway to let him know how wonderful t he new boots were and he told me he had one of the best days the store had had in quite awhile! He said, "Thank you, you brought  them in." I said, "No I didn't... it was your heart that brought them in!" I love Karma... as I was walking out of town, I spotted a Goodwill box and popped in the pair of boots! 
   

    

     Somewhere between La Pine and Bend, Oregon, while I was stopped talking to a full bearded cyclist wearing a home made jumpsuit  that had memorized the entire Christian bible and was proving it to me, a car stops and a couple jumps out shouting, "We know you! We know you! We know you from Blairsville, Georgia! We work with Winton Porter at Mountain Crossings!"  Mountain Crossings is an outdoor outfitter store in the Walasi-Yi Center, www.mountaincrossingS.com the only building the Appalachian Trail actually passes through in its 2,175 miles from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mt. Katahdin in Maine.  I didn't recognize them at first, but it came to me later. They have both thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail in its entirety like myself, it was Jen "Princess Brat" and Jimmy "Alpine" Ingram. It was wonderful, like seeing family! They could only stay but a moment, they were trying to get to Klamath Falls, Oregon to look at property before nightfall. Jimmy asked the guy on the bike to take our picture with Jimmy's camera and the guy's face just froze in a look of pure fright! Jimmy said, "Oh, you don't touch electronic equipment?" The guy just grunted. Jimmy must have been familiar with whatever religious cult he was from, for he simply said, "Okay",  lifted his camera up in front of us and took a picture of our three heads. I'm not going to join that cult 'cause I like my laptop and new camera phone too much. Jen and Jimmy told me they still worked for my friend Winton Porter at Mountain Crossings and that his book would soon be published. It was so cool running into them and brightened my day! They both gave me big long hugs full of energy to strengthen me for my walk!

    Just south of Madras, OR. I had just passed an intersection where a sign told me it was two and a half miles to places for food... on the road I wasn't taking. An Oregon State Trooper, Chris Seber, pulled up and asked what I was doing. I informed him of my objective, my cause, and why I love life. We talked for awhile, it was interesting that he had just returned from my hometown of Vero Beach, Florida and he was telling me how he had stayed a week with a family that I knew of who operates an air-boat tour guide service on the Kissimmee River. He saw the Florida that I love. I asked him if there was any place to eat before I got into Madras. He explained to me that there was not, but he could give me a ride the 2.5 miles into Culver where I could get something to eat. He further explained that the road Culver was ran parallel with 97 and would take me right into Madras. Great, I got something to eat at Beetle Bailey Burgers and never had to walk 2.5 miles out of my way! Chris told me about his three baby girls (one set of twins) and how he could not ever imagine for a second the horror of losing one! He thanked me for doing my walk. I later recieved an email from Chris's mother telling me how touched her son was by my story. He was talking to her on his cell when he decided to stop and see what I was doing . She said he mistakenly thought I was hitchhiking and told her he had to go check on me. She said he called her back later and told her how pleased he was to have met me. She said it is very rare that he has positive things to say about the people he usually meets while on duty.

    As I walked into Madras, a young couple stopped and asked if I would like to go to their house, take a shower, do laundry, go to their church for a big dinner, and then spend the night at their house... they were shocked and amazed at how fast my ass was in that car! They were Rob and Jenny willoughby, Rob was the youth minister at the church where we ate. great food, I might add!  Some guy read one scripture, talked about ten minutes (Not enough to cause indigestion) and then shut up. I spent the night out on their wooden deck, my choice, I could have slept inside if I had wanted to. I got up early, left them a thank you note and headed out to meet a new friend, Bill Sawyer, who was  riding his beautiful BMW bike down from Portland, Oregon to meet me in Madras.   
    Erin Henning, the gentleman who is filming the documentary of my walks had mailed me expressing concern for his uncle Bill Sawyer, who had lost his 18-year-old son in a head-on car collision on U.S. 97 during the Thanksgiving holiday season the year before. So Erin introduced us via email. I've been where Bill Sawyer is, I know the absolute horror he is walking in daily. It creates a huge hole in your life, which you gingerly walk around constantly and without warning.... you often fall into it! Around 10:30 we met in a very small city park at a concrete picnic table. We liked each other immediately! We talked about all aspects of having lost our babies.  We talked of how much harder it can be for an older sister as was the case with both our daughters. How it can be harder on them than another sibling relationship due to the maternal instinct. We spoke of how parents whom have lost children have to be careful not to unconsciously allow society to dictate their grieving process. The majority of society only experiences the death of a parent, a sibling, or a spouse and so that generally is the most severe grief they know. And so they are ignorant of the horror and the huge greater pain in losing a child. Those of us who know, also know, there is no comparison in the level of grief! And what helps us to accept their ignorance is that... we want them to always remain ignorant!! May they NEVER know!
    Bill and I spoke a long time and every once in awhile a 54-year-old homeless lady name Pam would approach us and ask if she could buy a cigarette from Bill. He gave her one each time she asked, without charge, of course. Eventually, a Mexican lady named Lupe, came up to our table and said she just had to know about the sign. I started telling my story and introduced Bill and his tragedy and why he had rode down to meet me. Lupe could see this was going to take awhile so she sat down at the table with us. Pam, seeing another woman at the table then garnered the courage to join us. Lupe started telling of her problems with an alcoholic daughter. Pam then started telling of her battle with low self-esteem and depression. there were tears, there was also laughter. And some of the wittiest and surprisingly wise remarks were made by sweet little Pam, who was homeless We all just automatically were responding to the needs of each other. Broken hearts were being mended. Bill said some truly beautiful things to Pam about how to achieve and maintain a high self esteem, and it helped her, I saw it in her face. Lupe was the first to leave, having to go to work. She expressed regret at having to leave. She took my card and said she intended to call the local paper at Madras and ask them to run my story.
     Pam stayed a little while longer, she explained that she had recently garnered up enough courage to ask for some help and that some local people were helping her. Bill and i gave her a little money and she immediately said, "Oh, that's not the reason I was here... I'm not begging for money, that's not he kind of person I am!" "We know that." we both assured her. She finally accepted the money and with a big smile on her face she said, "I'll get something to eat now... and I really like slushies!" She was just so very sweet!  She left to get something to eat and Bill and I stayed on a little longer. Bill reached in his wallet and pulled out a picture of his beautiful son Daniel and handed it to me. He said, " I would be honored if you could take this picture of my son with you on the rest of your journey... I think Daniel would really like that." I was honored, I placed it in my wallet between the pictures of my two beautiful children. Bill and I said our goodbyes, both thrilled to have made a new friend! And I headed out for the highway!
    As I walked past one building, out out of the corner of my eye I saw a lady sitting on the grass under a large shade tree. I didn't recognize her at first, it was Pam, she had cleaned up and changed clothes, ad her hair was all brushed back. She looked sweet, she looked pretty! She yelled out as she held a large plastic drink cup high in the air, "Hey Steve, I got my slushie! Thank you Steve! Tell Bill thanks too!" I cry a lot out here on the road.
    As I was nearly out of town, I noticed a barber pole, reminding me how badly I needed a haircut. So, I took all my gear off so I could stick my head in the door (if I don't take the sign off, I always hit shit and break stuff with it!) and ask how much. The older of the two barbers said, "Twelve dollars sir." I didn't have enough cash on me so I asked if they accepted credit cards. he said no but that there was a bank across the street that probably had an ATM. So I left my gear leaning against the barber shop and ran over to the bank. They wanted a $3.00 fee to give me a twenty dollar bill! Screw that! I would rather give the barber a $3.00 tip than give it to a bank! I'm a very low budget operation and I just plain ol' don't like getting fleeced! So, I simply told myself, I would wait until the next town and then get a haircut when I didn't have to extorted by a bank! My dear sweet mother used to say... "Those sonsabitches!" I went back across the street and started strapping all that gear back on. The young  barber stuck his head out the door, "You change your mind sir?" I told him the situation and he said, "I don't blame you one bit, that seems very high." I asked him if he thought there might be an ATM in town with a cheaper fee. He said they would probably all be the same. Then He said, "Come on in here, I'll cut your hair. A man doing what you're doing has to look nice. Like Pam, I was reluctant to accept at first, and also like Pam, a big smile came on my face and I accepted. As I was in the chair, he asked me numerous questions about my walk. He gave me a buzz, trimmed my eyebrows and my mustache. I thanked him and headed for the door, as I passed the older barber, he said, "you take it easy now... you be careful out there." And the customer in his chair said, "yeah, you be careful." Did I mention, I cry a lot out here.....
    The next morning a car stopped and a lady got out and told me she was a reporter for the local paper in Madras. She said a lady with a very strong Mexican accent called and suggested they do my story. I then told her of the gathering of Lupe, Pam, Bill, and myself. She looked up at me from her writing and with eye's real wide, she excitedly said, "I saw you... you were at the park! I was stopped at the light and I couldn't quit looking over at the four of you... I kept wondering what you could all be so deeply engaged in! I remember thinking I would love to have time to go over there!" You felt the energy ma'am! She felt the energy of love as it mended the broken heart!
    
    At Grass Valley, Oregon, inside the Grass Valley Country Store and Deli, I met a young man working there who simply called himself Farmer Mike. He had a long, very well groomed pony tail that went to his waist. He gave me a large container of potato salad he had just made after I told him what I was doing and had given him my card. Later that day as I was hopping around the little camp ground where I had my tent, looking for some shade where I could sit and use my laptop and be able to see the screen. It was a little awkward but hey, Doug, the manager of the campground let me camp for free, but anyway, a big 33' motor home pulls in right beside my little bitty tent and stops. And Farmer Mike, whose hair is now loose from the pony tail, steps out of the motor home and says to me, "come over here please, I need to talk to you." So I went up into the big motor home with him. He said, "I have never met anyone before who has had so much bad stuff happen to them and then turn it around and do such good things with it!" I said thanks. He went on. " Someone who walks as much as you shouldn't have to sleep on the ground all the time. I brought this here for you to use."  He started to walk off but turned and said, "When you get finished with your walking.... please don't forget the people you're helping... stick with them... okay?" I answered, "Absolutely!" He smiled, walked over to the campground office, paid for two nights and then walked off toward town! See why I cry a lot out here........
 Tomorrow I head into Moro, Oregon to pick up my new business cards. I will then be about 20 miles from Washington... I'm flyin'!

   

    

I've made a change of states, that's always a great feeling of accomplishment when on foot. I'm at Chemult, Oregon on U.S. 97 at the Featherbed Inn. That's right, I'm sleeping on a feather-bed. Something I haven't done since childhood visits to my grandparent's home in Southeastern Kentucky.

Well.... not far out of Susanville, California, a gentleman stopped his van, got out, walked up to me and introduced himself as His Highness, Hannimal Two Moons Gray. He told me that Hannimal in Hawaiian means, "Man who walks with God." and that the Two Moons was his Native American name. He was an interesting appearing individual, maybe 5' 8' and 160 lbs., dressed in a white pull-over shirt, black leather vest, black pants and black boots. On his head of shoulder length gray/brown hair was a very large  dark gray toboggan cap that came to a point . He had a snow white, well groomed full beard. And he had a wonderful smile that went along with the complete calmness and self confidence he displayed. I liked his eyes, I always look in the eyes. His self confidence was surprising in light of the fact, the things he started telling me were quite.... unbelievable!
    Hannimal told me he had been married nearly forty years to Her Highness, Likaleialani Lampura (Kukonu) Gray who was the rightful heir to the throne of Hawaii. I don't make judgment friends, I only listen. He went on to tell me his wife was born January, 1953 in Lahina, Maui to parents of  royal Hawaiian blood, her mother, Leilani Kaplani Ahila Kukoni,  and her father, Keith Koa Kamahaha Kukonu. (And people ask how I keep from getting bored out here.) 
    He told me his wife's parents were fourth cousins. (I'm used to that, I'm from Kentucky. My parents were fourth cousins as well.... no royalty though.)  He said that both parents and child were forced out of Hawaii by the U.S. government and escorted to the mainland U.S. aboard a U.S. Navy ship by the American C.I.A. (No, I have not been watching too many Discovery and History channel programs!) and  taken to Los Angeles, CA. His claim is that this was done in order to prevent the former country of Hawaii from re-establishing as a country with its royal heirs and then rejecting statehood. 
    Later, I recieved several calls from his wife, referring to  herself as, Her Highness, Likaleialani Lampura Kukonu Gray. She said she had until 2010 to reclaim her throne and that both Bush administrations had done all they could to prevent that from happening. She said she had been in exile since coming to the U.S. and had never been allowed to return to Hawaii. She explained that in the last few years they had been watched even more carefully and were living in poverty because of it. She said she felt the Obama administration could help her and she was trying to get in touch with the president but the C.I.A. would not permit it. She sincerely pleaded with me to get her story out, and so.......
    They said they would send me much more proof and copies of documents to verify their story... as soon as they come up with the money to mail out the package. I will share this information as I receive it. I don't judge folks, I only report! It is my duty as a guy walking the roads of America with the words LOVE LIFE over his head to bring you the stories shared with me as accurately as possible.
    Great! I walk 22,000 miles of the U.S. never having a hair on my head harmed and now.... I could be assassinated by the C.I.A. for divulging the existence of the rightful heirs to the throne of Hawaii! There has to be a better way to find out if this story is true or not.

    At the cafe at Old Station, Ca. I met a couple, Kay & Lee Clausen of Roseville, CA., the owners of Signs on Time. They kindly paid for my breakfast and told me to get in touch with them if I ever needed a new sign! In Weed, I stopped at the Bill Ackerman Tire Center and asked permission to charge my phone and laptop. Mark Rodgers stared at me a moment to see if I was real, said, "Sure." pointed to a socket in the office and then went on zooming around the shop getting things done. I stayed around for nearly two hours waiting to be sure everything recieved a full charge. When the secretary, Tammi Gonzoles came in, I talked with her some when she wasn't busy. She told me how her husband had lost his job and they were struggling. She said that one day the week prior, she was at work feeling particularly down because of their financial situation and a customer came in that changed her attitude very quickly. The lady was Hispanic, understood little English, and was mute! She had to write everything down and try to make the shop personnel understand her. Fortunately, Tami spoke some Spanish learned from her husband. She had a blowout on one of her bald tires on her very old car and had to be towed into their shop. She was moving to a new location with her four children, all under seven and one a toddler! Tami said that all four children were very polite and very well behaved. She said the mother never stopped smiling and never stopped thanking them. Tami simply said, "We helped her." She never went into detail, she only said, "I have been counting my blessings ever since and hope to keep her in mind so as to not get down again!" 

    And then... I had the absolute honor of meeting cowboy, Ben Struble! I crossed into Oregon just beyond Doris, CA., stopped at the only place I had seen for miles in which to dine. It was a cafe/bar and as I entered I was greeted with a smile and hearty hello's by the only other patrons in the place. The gentleman, dressed in a dust covered black and white, fancy, but old and dust covered western style shirt., and a dust filled black cowboy hat with a toothpick sticking out of it for emergency cleaning, introduced himself as Ben Struble and the lady to his right as Missy, his wife. They commented on what a beautiful day it was and I told them I was enjoying walking in such weather. Ben said "Walkin'?! And Missy said, "hey, you the guy with that "LOVE LIFE" sign over your head... I saw you yesterday walkin' into Doris!" And then Ben started asking me questions while Missy went looking for the waitress/bartender to give me some service. I liked Ben right off, he just had that air about him, you know, some people just seem to have a comfort zone around them. he asked meaningful things like the ages of both my children and how long ago had I lost them, and things like that. He introduced me to the barmaid and two biker friends who came in a little later, none had the same enthusiasm over meeting me as did Ben.
    Ben asked where I was going to spend the night, as it was already late afternoon. I told him I would find someplace, I aways did. He told me there were irrigation canals on both sides of the highway for the next few miles and he didn't see how I could possibly find a spot this late in the day. And then he said, "Hell, if dogs don't bother ya', you can pitch yer tent at my place and I'll run ya' back out here in the mornin' before we start brandin'. My place is on the California side but I'm helpin' a guy with his brandin' on the Oregon side tomorrow." He told me a friend of his had just butchered four buffalo and had given him plenty of meat and they were going to cook up buffalo burgers. And of course I accepted the offer!
    We walked out to Ben's old and very beat-up '84 GMC pickup truck with a dog pen containing seven Bloodhound/Walker Hound mix dogs all baying with excitement at Ben's appearance. Ben said, "I love dogs as good as anything and there are two more at home... so if ya' don't like 'em ya' need to speak up now." "I love dogs." I told him. So we drove back into California and then a few miles to the entrance of his ranch. He was pointing out the lines of his 7,000 acres by pointing to one ridge and then to another. He said his son had recently given up his job as a civil engineer in Washington to come back and run the ranch.and was now living on what Ben called, "the home place".  On the way to his ranch, at least two people called him and he invited each out to meet me and eat buffalo burgers. He called his wife Missy who had left the bar before us, and told her he was having me over for the night and some friends for buffalo burgers. This was all new  news to her, and all she said was "Okay, I guess I'll break out that bottle of fancy tequila we got and you better get some limes and some fresh lettuce and tomatoes for the burgers." I gotta' say, my ex-wife would have had a shit fit had I called her and announced to her what Ben did to his wife... at the last moment. She simply would not have done it! Damn, I'm glad I ain't married no more! Thank you Ben and Missy for the little reminder of how it can be. And then, Ben simply turned around and headed into the town of Doris to pick up some things to go along with the buffalo burgers and the fine bottle of Tequila. I waited outside the store and got acquainted with the seven friendly hound dogs.
    Once at Ben's place, a large mobile home wit a large porch running the length of the home. The railings had actual antique wagon wheels built into them and there was a saddle sitting on one section of rail. There were peacocks everywhere and hound dogs everywhere... and a huge ram of some exotic sheep species with huge horns. And they all follow Ben as he walks the property. Missy says it was even more fun to watch before they got rid of the turkey's and their 25-year-old mare was abducted by a wild stud that frequents the ranches stealing mares and building his harem. Several of Ben & Missy's friends showed up for buffalo burgers and to meet the strange guy walking around the country with a big "LOVE LIFE" sign over his head. Ben said, "Hell, we never get company, I had to go out an' get some guy off the road to get my neighbors to come visit with me!" One cowgirl had asked what kind of boots I preferred and after telling her I wore Danner's she referred to me from then on as the "Danner Dude". At least six of the people at the little gathering came up to me at different times and unbeknown to the others and said something like, "You know, you could not have run into a finer man today." or "You will never meet any finer and real people than the Ben Struble family." One gentlman named Larry, told me he considered Ben Struble one of the finest men in that part of the country. And all those things were said before that fine bottle of Tequila was opened! The fresh buffalo meat was wonderful and the Ben Struble stories were abundant....
    There was the  time in his much younger years when one of his hounds was tangling with a bear, the bear had the hound in his grasp and was crushing him. Ben got caught up in it and was trying to shoot the bear with his pistol without shooting his beloved dog and he wasn't able, he accidentally shot and killed his dog. On another occasion when one of his dogs was fighting with a mountain lion Ben, not wanting to make the same mistake twice and kill his dog, tried to get the pistol as close to the lion's head as possible. So close in fact, that the lion was able to grab the pistol and Ben's hand into his mouth. The situation stayed that way for several seconds as Ben was afraid the bullet would go through the lion and into his dog (did I mention, Ben loves his dogs?) Finally he pulled the trigger and this time it killed the intended and not his dog.
    And there was the time that a sheriff's deputy stopped Ben in front of a local bar and wanted to give him a sobriety test. Ben kept assuring the deputy he was not drunk. The deputy insisted he was drunk. A friend, Deb, who was there those many years ago said, "Hell, he may have let him go but Ben kept givin' 'im shit! Kept sayin' he wasn't even close to drunk and he didn't have the right to stop him." Deb said that at no time did Ben become upset or even raise his voice. She was laughing when she said, "that's jus' Ben... and that's what was pissin' off the cop!" The officer gave him a breathalizer test and took Ben to jail. Deb followed behind and got him out immediately. Ben decide to fight it and so it went to court. In the court room it was shown that the breathalizer test did not sufficiently show proof of enough alcohol in Ben to justify a drunk driving charge and so the judge said, "Dismissed!" But Ben said, "No sir, it is not over yet, it said in the paper that I was drunk... and I wasn't. I want that corrected." The judge told the stenographer to make a note of that and see to it that it was indeed corrected. After the article appeared in the local paper with the correction and apology to Ben, one of Ben's friends reprinted the article on fliers that proclaimed at the top, BEN STRUBLE WAS NOT DRUNK! and posted them at all the local bars.
    The next morning, after the little get together, Ben came out to the travel trailer he and Missy insisted I sleep in and treat as my own home.  With his chaps and spurs on, getting ready to go help his friend and neighbor rancher brand his calves, he said, "Steve, you are welcome to stay as long as you like, I really don't care, we have enjoyed having you here." I told him that if possible and they didn't think I would get in the way, I would love to watch them do the branding. It was decided that because Missy had already started fixin' me a huge breakfast, that she would drive me out a little later to watch the branding process and take some pictures.
    After  a truly wonderful breakfast, Missy and I set out for the corrals over on the Oregon side where Ben would be helping to rope the calves for branding. I was excited after arriving, seeing all the cowboys and cowgirls on their horses with lariats in hand taking turns to enter the corral to rope and brand the calves. My excitement was soon quieted as Ben's friends came up to Missy telling her they had been trying to reach her to let her know that Ben had been injured petty badly after his horse was spooked by the rope going up under his tail and had thrown Ben off. When we got across the corral to where Ben wa sitting with a bag of ice on his left shoulder, it was obvious he was hurt badly. He said he was okay as long as he didn't move around. We waited a few moments to let the nonprescription pain pills they had given him, take affect. I took some good pictures of the branding and then to my horror, I watched the same thing which had spooked Ben's horse happen to his grandson's horse! The horse panicked and made the situation even worse by causing the rope to drop down and wrap around his hind legs! Everyone was yelling instructions to the 15-year-old cowboy as his horse was panicked and head straight for the downed calf which was being branded. Several cowboys jumped in front of the calf and began waving their arms in the air and yelling to shoo the spooked horse away from the calf and the ropes connecting it to the two horses and their riders. And then, just as sudden as it happened, somehow, the horse just stepped out of the coiled rope.... I couldn't believe it! If that horse had fallen into that calf and those ropes.... I shudder to think! The young man stayed in total control, and at one point, I'm sure I saw a smile on his face!
    Missy and i walked Ben to the truck and Ben said, "Steve, I hate it that you didn't get to see the brandin', you are welcome to stay, someone will drive you back to my place later I' sure." I declined, I thought it would be rude not to make sure I was doing all I could to make sure my kind host was going to be okay. On the way to the hospital at Klamath Falls, Oregon Ben said to me, "ya know Steve, now that I'm a little older (Ben is 64) every time I fall now... sumpthin' breaks." I said, "Yeah, I guess when you were younger you were a lot stronger and stuff wouldn't have broke when you came off that hose?" Ben quite confidently replied, "When I was younger, I would have never come off that horse." Just as we were about to pull into the hospital parking lot Ben said, "Ya' know I'm starting to feel a lot better, I don't think I really need to go into the emergency room after all." Missy said, "Well Ben, we're already here so I think we should at least get a doctor's opinion." "Well, okay I guess... but I am feeling better." insisted Ben.
    Ben was making little jokes and and staying quite positive as they escorted him to one of the treatment rooms in the emergency room. He was telling the nurse how he didn't think anything was broken and she said they would check anyway. Missy came out after awhile and told me that he had landed so hard on his shoulder that the first and second ribs had cracked and that his left lung had literally popped upon impact putting a hole in it! Within about thirty minutes after entering the hospital, the lung had started to collapse. They had to insert a tube into the lung so he could breath properly. Each time Missy came out to update me, she would tell me how positive he was and of some quip he had made. Not long before we left she came out and didn't give me an update on his little quips and quick sense of humor. I asked, "Well, don't tell me his mood has changed?" "Completely, they just told him he will be in overnight!" she said.
    Back at the ranch, Missy told me a few more stories of Ben's escapades and told how Ben and his two brothers and one sister had been orphaned by a mother who, "Just went kinda' crazy, I guess." Is the way Missy described it. She said after his father found out about it and was able, he took his kids out of the orphanage and did the best he could to raise them. The boys were pretty much on their own by 14 or 15 Missy said. Ben stayed on the ranch where his father worked as a cowboy and took over as ranch foreman after his father retired. The owners of the ranch never had any children of their own and treated Ben as if he were. They both lived into their nineties and Ben continued to take care of them and their ranch. They deeded the entire 7,000 acres to Ben. Missy  showed me a framed newspaper article on the wall with the headlines:

                  " COWBOY'S CORPSE BURIED STANDING UP! CRIPPLED COWBOY WANTED TO WALK INTO HEAVEN." 
 
    "That's Ben's brother" she said. I asked if that was the one Ben had told me of which had been chosen as guide to take Robert Redford on a horseback tour of the remote lands in Colorado and Utah that Butch Cassidy and the "Sundance Kid" and their "Hole in the wall gang" had hid out in? She explained that indeed it was. Ben and I had discussed it as I remembered owning the November, 1976 issue of National Geographic which featured the ride by Redford and Jimmy Dale Struble. I told Ben I would send him the copy as he said he didn't have one. There was also a picture of Jimmy Dale on the wall which the National Geographic photographer had taken. I began reading the June,1992  newspaper article:

    Bull ropin', bronc bustin' cowboy Jimmy Dale Struble was buried with his boots on - standing tall in his grave.
The hard living, bighearted cowpoke hated to take anything laying down, least of all death. He wanted to enter the hereafter on his feet wearing his favorite cowboy hat... and his buddies didn't let him down.
    In a simple ceremony in a country cemetery, Jimmy was lowered feet first into his grave, so he could meet his Maker standing up - as a cowboy should. "He was a cowboy to the core." Said close buddy Eddie McEllery. "He was a dying breed. He was loud, boisterous, big-hearted, and the best horseshoer to ever set foot in this valley."
    Jimmy, 49, spent the last seven years of his cow-punching life in a wheelchair, paralyzed from the neck down,. He died of lung problems after spelling out his burial wishes to his friends. His paralysis stemmed from a broken neck suffered in a fight in 1986 in Hanksville, Utah. Jimmy and another guy slugged it out over who was the better roper. "Jimmy owned a bulldog named Buster, when Jimmy got mad, Buster got mad." said Dan "Boon" Burns. "Buster jumped the other guy's dog and all hell broke loose.
"Jimmy was thumpin' the other guy real good when the guy's buddy picked up a baseball bat and bashed Jimmy on the head breaking his neck."
    "I loved him like a brother." Said Burns, who took care of Jimmy after his paralysis. "But even I could get a bellyfull of him in about 5 minutes. Jimmy was an off-the-wall individual. When there was nothing left to be said, Jimmy would say it."
Jimmy loved country music and lived a rough life drinking beer and trapping wild game. He never met a horse or a bull he couldn't ride.
    "And when the beer came out, you better get the hell out of there if you couldn't stand the heat." Glenn Younger said, "cause like it or not, there was gonna' be some fightin'." Friends say Jimmy made them promise not to bury him lying down. "he hated sittin' on his butt for seven years and he didn't want to be buried that way." Said Younger.
"He was used to roping steers, breaking and shoeing horses, hunting bear and trapping coyotes."
"He was a hard-headed country boy - make that heavy on the country boy."
Several dozen of Jimmy's neighbors, friends, two brothers, , two daughter's and other family members wadedthrough boot-top-high snow to carry out the crippled cowpuncher's last wishes.
    Before they closed the coffin, Jimmy's brother Clifford, put a pocket knife in the deceased man's hand. "In case he wants out of there, he's going to need a good knife," he said. Jimmy's saddle-draped casket was loaded into the back of his his best friends pickup truck and driven down the road to Glade Park Cemetery in Grand Junction, Colorado. A friend sang the last yippee-yi-ya, yippee-yi-yo of "Ghost riders in the sky" as tough talking cowboy's pushed their hats lower on their foreheads - to hide the tears in their eyes. Then they looped their lariats around his coffin and lowered it vertically into the grave. ~ Jack Alexander, Staff Writer Grand Junction newspaper

   Damn... it certainly ran in the family. I spent the night out in my little trailer home, took some pictures of some more peacocks and dogs, and a ram the next morning and then Missy and I headed out to see Ben before I got back on the road. Missy never went back to see Ben after she and I had left the day before, she kept saying, "Ah, he's gonna have lots of friends with 'im... he won't be alone at all, you can be assured of that." On the way to the hospital, she was a little more honest about her reasoning, "I can't stand to see 'im hurtin' like that and not being able to do what he wants and not bein' with his dogs." A tough cowboy needs a tough woman... Ben's got one. They're both just as big hearted as they are tough.
    In Ben's room, just as Missy had said, there were two visitors and there had been a staedy flow of them since he had entered the hospital. He thanked me for sticking around and staying with Missy and he also thanked me for helping him to get his neighbors to come visit him. I told 'im I didn't really think it was me at all.... it was the buffalo burgers.
    Ben got out of the hospital a couple days later after they felt it safe to take the tube out of his lung. I will miss those fine people back there on the California and Oregon border. Damn, what an experience it is... all I have to do is to continue to love life and I will continue to run right smack into those that also love life! Thanks Ben, thanks Missy, and by God... thank you Jimmy Dale Struble for refusing to lay down!!!

    Walking through Chiloquin, Oregon, I stopped in Melita's Restaurant and asked to charge up my laptop and phone while I was having coffee, I wasn't ordering food because it really had not been that long since I had eaten. The waitress, Maria, kept asking me if I wanted to order food, I kept saying no and explaining that I wasn't hungry. I finally heard her say to someone, "No, he says he's not hungry, but that's a long walk to the next place to eat and I'm going to make him eat... hungry or not!" Within minutes she plopped a menu down in front of me and said, "You have to eat, I'll be right back to take your order.... it's on us." I ate, the food was wonderful.
  

    

The day Erin and crew stopped filming the first segment of their documentary on my walk, a California Highway Patrolman told me I was not permitted to walk on California's highways! I told him that I had done much research and U.S. 395 did not become limited access highway until Carson City, Nevada. I also assured him that I wasn't questioning his facts, as I was assured his expertise in the matter of California's highway laws far exceeded my own (sucking up). The trooper answered, " Well... uh... yeah... uh.... technically... yes." Now I would have thought, in such a matter, technically is the only issue. He actually went on to say this, "Well, that is true, but in our (California troopers) mind... pedestrians should not travel on major California highways as it is way too dangerous!" I assured him I understood and appreciated his concern (more sucking up) but after nearly 22,000 miles of walking America's highways (third time on California's) I had become aware of the dangers. And, when he motioned me over to his side of the road, I had a blind curve to each side of me ( which he paid no mind to) and I was nearly hit trying to get across as he kept insisting I do as soon as possible! he was very young and he had a crew-cut. I once had another CHP yell at me on his loudspeaker to get off HIS highway! I'm sure many California tax payers would argue that proclamation. Maybe it's an indoctrination procedure they do with them in their initial training? You know, like telling them to treat it like their highway, take it personal, that kinda' thing?? I have also have been treated very kindly by some CHP, most, pass me without paying any attention to me at all. I have noticed that local police and county deputies are much more likely to wave than CHP. The nicest troopers I've ever encountered have been in Nevada and Florida... particularly in Nevada.

Just past Gardnerville-Minden, California, A young man pulled up next to me just as I had sat down for a break from fighting the fierce wind and handed me a large paper sack. "Here's your lunch." he said. I thanked him and he drove off without another word. The sack contained, a big ham and cheese sandwich, a large portion of sliced apples and cheddar cheese chunks, a bag of chips, two cupcakes, a large Gatorade, a large water, two mints, and a book of matches! Obviously, his mother had taught him well! Wow, did that satisfy my hunger and... my heart!

!Met a young man named Joe from Redding, CA. He insisted on taking me to lunch and we spoke for a few hours. He had just gone home to Nevada for a family reunion and while there, his childhood friend had killed himself. We had a lot to talk about..... A very fine young man was Joe Grim!! I thoroughly enjoyed his company.

Near Susanville, I stopped at a mobile home to ask if they thought it might be okay to pitch my tent in back of the Mormon building across the street from them. A young man told me he wasn't sure who owned the sge brush filled field behind the building, but he was betting it would be okay. I first looked behind the building to see if there were any cars present so as to ask someone permission. There were no cars, so I never got closer than about 30' to the Mormon  structure. I proceeded about a 100' into the field behind the building and just as I was preparing to stake my tent, I heard a voice behind me, "Sir, would you come over here please?" It was Deputy McArvan of the Lassen County Sheriff's Department. He was standing at the edge of the field I was in. So, I obeyed (he has a gun) and walked over and gave him my card and proudly handed him my Sunshine State drivers license. "You're certainly a long way from home!" He said. He told me that the reason he was there, someone had called and said they saw me enter the Mormon establishment! I said, "That sir... never happened! And I'm betting the building is locked anyway." He answered with, "I'm betting you're right." He walked through all the snagged sage brush and over-growth to investigate my campsite. He was very friendly and interested in my journey. I gave him my card and he told me he didn't know who the property belonged to, but he saw no harm in me staying there the night. And so I did... in spite of the fact, there was a known liar living nearby. 

Near Litchfield, a young lady stopped and handed me two hot dogs and a fountain coke! See why I love life so much!

Yesterday, Doria, the young photographer I met earlier on the road in the desert, from L.A., drove up with her boyfriend Greg, (She kept whispering behind his back, "He's a keeper!" I strongly agree with her!) so she could interview me for a one of her class projects at UCLA. When she and Greg arrived, they joined me and an off duty Lassen County deputy and his father in searching for my cell phone. I had been up much of the night looking for it and then had continued the hunt at 6:00 am that morning... without any luck! I was most definitely concerned! The off duty deputy had stopped because his partner Deputy Mc Arvan, had told him of me. The five of us searched my campsite for several minutes... to no avail! Just after the deputy and his father had left, Greg spotted my phone at about eye-level... in a tree! Greg is a psychiatrist and thus... very logical in his thinking ( Doria is whispering behind him, "He's a keeper!") and so, he surmised that hours had been spent looking on the ground in the small area without results, sooooo.... it must be off the ground! I LOVE Greg!!!! Greg saved my life... he found my phone!!! Now, I may need to go to Greg's couch so we can find out how in the hell that cell phone ended up in that damn tree!!
I had actually walked about twenty miles past Susanville but I decided to ride back to Susanville (still don't like going backwards) and take Rt. 36 to Rt. 44 because the Lassen County deputy told me it was much more scenic than the high-desert terrain I was so very tired of, on my present route of U.S. 395. I will eventually switch back to 395... my Gemini self thinks?? Greg insisted on getting me a room in Susanville and buying my dinner (And Doria was behind him whispering...... ) They spent even more time with me in my motel room before they headed back on their 12 hour trip home to L.A. What a wonderful time we had! Greg, THANK YOU FOR FINDING MY PHONE!!!! Thank you and Doria for everything... particularly for... believing in me!!!

Some stills from the filming of the Love Life documentary may be viewed at www.lovelifefilm.com Eventually there will be some film clips posted as well.
 

    

I am in Minden, Nevada and will go on through Carson City as well as Reno before following U.S. 395 back into California. California has certainly been interesting weather wise... from the high 80's to 20 degree's! 
Met a wonderful young lady, Doria Anselmo, a photographer from L.A. She was originally from Orlando, so we had plenty to talk about. She was with her boyfriend Greg and had driven up into the mountains celebrating the occasion of his birthday. She was very excited about my "LOVE LIFE" cause. She is currently corresponding with me and told me, as part of her studies at U.C.L.A., she is writing a story about me. She is planning to meet me wherever I happen to be in a couple of weeks and spend an afternoon with me. That will be fun I'm sure, she has a fun personality. And i always enjoy talking to other Floridians. 

I met another photographer, Greg, he also took several pictures of me. We went to Mickey-D's and talked for a very long time. I really enjoyed his views on life... very interesting individual. I find that the individuals attracted to the words "LOVE LIFE", are either very much in love with life or in some cases... are longing to be back in love with it. At any rate, they are curious and unafraid enough to want to stop and find out what exactly is up with a guy who walks down the highway with the words, "LOVE LIFE" over his head!

This has been my observation of America's population I've encountered while facing traffic on its highways for a period of nearly 10 years and a distance of nearly 22,000 miles: I see 85% as totally indifferent to me and my sign, they do not appear to give a damn. They do not wave, they will not honk the horn. Most make a point of looking away or straight ahead as if they never even noticed the dummy at the side of the road with the big sign over his head. Now, there is a good side to 85% of people encountered being indifferent; that's 85% who are not going to do me any harm in anyway! They simply do not care in anyway. I believe the number to be a little more than 13%, those individuals who show a curiosity about me and my sign and do not allow fear to prevent them from responding. I include in this number; those who smile genuinely upon seeing my sign, those who wave vigorously, horn honkers, those who stop and ask why, those who bring me food and water, those who want to donate money or pay for a meal or buy me a room, and there are some who even invite me into their homes. The reason I believe the number to actually be a little more than 13%.... I just cannot believe that it could be a full 2% who would adhere to evil and direct physical harm to me. I come to this conclusion from the fact I have walked nearly 22,000 miles and have never been harmed! I've had 5 things thrown at me, only 2 of which, actually hit me. None of the things thrown could have killed me had they hit me. In Indiana, a man actually did try to run me down with his car, I saw him coming and was able to jump to safety... not a bad average for 22,000 miles huh? Let us all work very hard to stay out of the ranks of the 85% and stay curious about life and love it and the people who share it with us!

I met a young man, Kelsen, an absolute delight!! He was 27 and so full of life! He immediately greeted me with, "Hi, my name is Kelsen, that means "Little Viking"! Is that cool or what... I love my name!" Kelsen is a photographer, among the many other things he does. He makes these really cool bright colored balls caps. He took the logo from his father's construction business and uses it as a design for his hats, it is an outline of a dump truck www.dumptruckclothing.com. It's really cool looking! He grabbed one from his back seat and said, "Here man, this one's for you!" He was smiling so big, he was so happy to be giving me one of his hats! He said that one store was actually selling them for $50.00 each! He shrugged as if he didn't really care and said, "I only get 10% of that though, I usually end up giving most of  them away!"  He laughed a lot! I can't wear two hats, so I gave him the one I had which was emblazoned with the Geico gecko in a bright green. He was delighted, he immediately put it on and and then took a picture of he and I with our faces together wearing our gift hats! he is supposed to send me a copy of the picture.

I stayed at a wonderful place just south of Bridgeport, CA., called Virginia Creek Settlement. I camped in the campground part of their wonderful establishment. Their restaurant was awesome! The food was wonderful! www.VirginiaCreekSettlement.com . Jimmy never charged me for my dinner after hearing me tell my story to a couple I encountered in the restaurant who had lost their 17 year old son. Jimmy's wife, Brimm, came in and introduced herself and asked me to stand. After I stood, she placed her arms around me and said, "I just went to your website and we have four small children of our own. Thank you for what you are doing!" It was a good long hug and it felt wonderful! The day I left Virginia Creek Settlement, I met up with Erin and Garreth, part of a production Company, who had flown in from New York to interview and film me for the possible production of a documentary covering my purpose, my "LOVE LIFE" cause. Erin is originally from Oakland, CA. and so his father Mathew drove Erin and Garreth out to meet me and used his truck as the camera car. The three of them were a blast to be around for two days. I told them how great  Jimmy and Brinn Little, the owners of Virginia Creek Settlement were and so they chose their place as the base of operations and Jimmy donated my camping space for two more nights. Erin explained to me, the filming and interviews were to be made into a trailer for further study as to how to conduct the documentary and to generate interest. Sometime very soon, some of the footage will be visible at www.lovelifefilm.com. I will let everyone know when there is something actually on the site.

 

    

On the other side of Four Corners, CA., my gallon jug was half empty and even though I had another four liters in my pack, I wanted to make sure I always had a full supply of water. I stopped at the FPL Solar Electric Generating Systems facility, which consists of acres and acres of solar elements. I walked up to the security gate and there was no one in sight. I did see an intercom system and so I pushed the talk button. A voice asked me what I wanted and I explained to him about needing water. He informed me that I was not allowed to enter the facility and he was not allowed to leave his post. I have to explain here; during my walks, I have experienced dehydration twice, one time, quite seriously. I suppose I have developed somewhat of a fear, I never again want to go to bed thirsty... it is a terrible experience. So, I answered with, "Sir, are you going to deny a man water?" He didn't say anything for a moment, and then,  "Let me see if I can get someone to take my place for about five minutes." A few minutes later, a large heavy set man between 45 and 50 came walking toward the gate. I immediately introduced myself and he told me his name was Homer. He was shaking his head, but smiled when he asked, "Now, I want you to explain to me why I should walk the way back to that building to get you water and then walk all the back here?" And I asked, "Does that FPL on that sign stand for Florida Power and Light?" "Yes sir it does." Answered Homer. I explained, "I paid Florida Power and Light for electricity for both my home and business for over thirty years down in Florida... I figure your company owes me big time." Homer said, "No shit! Thirty years huh, that's a long time!" reaching over the gate for my water jug, he said, "I'll be right back." A few minutes later, here came Homer with my gallon jug in one hand and a one gallon insulated water container in the other. Homer lifted my gallon jug over to me and said, "Here's your water and I filled this other one with ice for you." I said, "You sure you want to give me that nice container?" He answered, "I figure you earned some kinda' little gift of appreciation for being a preferred customer for thirty years." I thanked Homer and asked some questions about the huge solar conversion plant. He told me it was the largest of its type in the U.S. and one of the largest in the world. Homer was a great guy and just kept wishing me well.

The weight of all the extra water was getting to my back which was threatening to go out on me, and all though I had had fairly good luck with people stopping to give water, I still didn't want to depend upon whether someone would stop on not, particularly since the traffic on 395 had really lessened since the intersection with Rt. 58 at Four Corners. Another reason for doubt, I held up an empty water bottle to a passing California Highway Patrolman and he simply turned his head away. I looked after him for awhile waiting to see if he would turn around to help... he did not.  Later, An SUV pulled up and a gentleman by the name of Justin hollered out, "Hey, you okay?" I told him I was fine. He said, "You sure? I said I was sure. Then he asked, "You need a ride?" I asked where he was going and he said he was going to Mammoth Lake. I told him I didn't want a ride that far but asked could he take me out of the desert and to where there was more water. "Sure, that would be Lone Pine, about a hundred miles up the road."  Justin told me.  I'm a thru-hiker and the idea of taking rides does not suit well with me, I always turn them down unless I absolutely have to, limited access highways, bridges, and tunnels and very extreme weather. Actually, my corner to corner walk does not begin until I get to Washington state. When I am figuring my mileage of walking, I always deduct the few miles I have had to ride. I'm not trying for the Guinness Book with miles walked, but instead, with lives affected! I told Justin, "That'll work, I'll be near water and Mt. Whitney, which I want to climb." I told him." Justin told me it would be difficult to climb this time of the year. Justin was a very interesting person and full of life. As Justin was helping me retrieve my gear from his vehicle, he slipped some money in my hand and told me he wanted me to get a room for the night.

In Lone Pine, I saw a sign at a hostel, "$19.95 for a bed" So, in I went to make good use of Justin's kind donation. The pretty young lady at the counter told me, "You have to share the room with two other men, there is only one key and another man already has that, so you will have to coincide with him on your schedule. We lock the doors here at 10:30 and so you will have no access to the room at all after that." That's way too many rules for me! I found the access road to Whitney and started toward the beautiful snow covered peak. A mile or so from town was a camp ground charging $10:00. Not as comfortable as a bed, but certainly more freedom! I met a hiker who had just come down from climbing Mt. Whitney, I told him that I would like to climb the next morning and asked how bad the conditions were now. He told me that he had worn crampons (spiked shoe attachments) and an ice ax. I told him I had neither and he advised me not to try it without the proper equipment, as it would be extremely dangerous and probably impossible. He said the peak is much easier to climb after June 1. I took his advice. Later, after I pitched my tent, I decided to walk back to town for something to eat. As I was walking down the road, I turned to look at Whitney and I saw a county deputy turning his car around and coming toward me. He got out of the car and started asking me lots of questions, are you wanted, why are you here, do you have any weapons,etc. I showed him my Schrade knife with a 1.5 inch blade. After running my beautiful Florida drivers license, he asked me if I would like a ride to the store. I accepted the offer, but had I know how thoroughly he was going to frisk me before letting me in the back of his cruiser, I would have declined. He also took my knife again to hold while I was in his car. I'm sure he was just following procedure, but he did seem a bit dramatic about it. Hey, I got a ride to town and he ended up smiling when he shook my hand and said goodbye.

It was great walking out of Lone Pine, as there was highway construction going on for miles and so there were work crews all along the road with water jugs filled with ice water which they all offered freely! I found a spot at the side of the highway I thought to be suitable for my tent. There were small pine trees to hide it from passing motorist. There was a big log just perfect for sitting on and checking my mail on my laptop. After I pitched my tent and laid out everything for the night, I started into my laptop chores. I was so into what I was doing I never even saw the deputy in front of me until he spoke. He, like the other deputy, asked me lots of questions and then ran my drivers license. He told me, "You can't just pitch a tent next to the highway... that just isn't done here in California!" This was a testament to how well I have stayed hidden, I'm guessing, I have done it at least a hundred times. Deputy Smith told me that he would have to check with his boss and see if I could stay there for the night or he would have to move me to a proper campground some where. He said his boss did not come on duty until 8:00 pm and that was over an hour away. He commented that I did not look like a vagrant and that he liked my laptop, and he said, "You look very clean." Deputy Smith took my cell phone number, told me he would call around 8:00 as to if he would have to come back and remove me or not... he added that it would probably be the latter. So, as soon as he left, I packed up everything but my tent. I stood there and waited until 9:30... and no call. I crawled into my tent, laid down and slept wonderfully! How nice, I was safe, the police knew I was there and Deputy Smith did smile when he left, and.... I was clean.