A Living Magazine - Day 222 - Homecoming - Grover to Kings Mountain

I woke about two hours after falling asleep, cold. The ground had just the hint of a pine needle cover over that southern red sand. This was the recipe for a cold bed. The hardness of the ground never bothers me. But, as I've discovered, any surface other than leaves is cold. Sand especially just sucks the heat from my body. Due to the length and intensity of the last day's walk, the back of my sweater was west from sweat. Usually, the warmth of the sleeping bag will dry it overnight, but the damn zipper had split below the latch again so my back remained wet.

There was nothing I could do about the ground. Until I can buy a pad and find a way to fit it into the pack, these sleeping situations (on anything but leaves) are going to be uncomfortably cold. Even wet leaves are insulating when covered with the under-tarp. I could however fix the zipper. The splitting happens every time I do a quick zip--one tooth will be missed. So I unzipped down to below the split and then zipped the bag back up very carefully making sure to run my finger behind the zipper to feel if a tooth had been missed. The bag is tight, compact, and very well designed. The one improvement I would make would be a larger meatier zipper, the size of the ones on the backpack. 

Once zipped up again, it took a while to fall back asleep. I heard coyotes far off in the distance. Checking Google Earth later I realized they weren't in my part of the woods, but along a powerline adjacent to a large building behind me. As I've mentioned a few times now, powerlines are coyote highways. All I could think about was how I was going to extricate myself in the morning with trucks pulling out across the highway. Honestly, I think I worry way too much about being seen. Whenever I'm walking away from a spot where I've camped, I realize how little space I take up and how few drivers, distracted as they are by other traffic or their god-forsaken phones, care about where I sleep. 

* * * * * * *

The Homeless Urban Camper's Dilemma

I don't know how to justify this in a simple way for myself or other curious readers. So I offer the following as a complex breakdown that maybe together we can simplify and clarify.

I know I will be asked about it publicly, and I need a ready answer. It is the one thing that I do that is not altogether above board, and that bothers me. I don't want to break the law. Yet, there is no way I could do what I do without being able to find discrete places to sleep. It is not just about my physical needs, but my psychological need for privacy. I am a very private person. I am out in public and seen by people sixteen hours a day. The only time I have private moments are in bathroom stalls or sleep spots. I'm not sure if people who have permanent places to live fully understand just how stressful that is for a fairly introverted person such as myself. 

This subject walks thin lines having to do with rights, needs, and wants. And, in many ways those lines blur out of sight. This is a unique situation, a unique lifestyle, and I am a unique person doing a unique thing. There can't be general public policy for each unique situation. Yet, what may be good for the general public may not be practical, nor appropriate for me, and vice versa.

Now, there is a technical argument for being able to use public land for this temporary camping. It has to do with the Eighth Amendment... 

"The Eighth Amendment (Amendment VIII) to the United States Constitution is the part of the United States Bill of Rights (ratified December 15, 1791) prohibiting the federal government from imposing excessive bail, excessive fines, or cruel and unusual punishment."

[See all twenty seven Constitutional Amendments: Here.]

Usually, this amendment is used in the context of so-called "Miranda Rights" (the right to remain silent). However, recently it has been invoked to defend against attempts to prosecute homeless people for sleeping in parks, public places, and on public land. I would urge interested readers to inform themselves about these cases and the general subject of "Anti-homelessness Legislation"...

Justice Department Files Brief to Address the Criminalization of Homelessness 

It’s unconstitutional to ban the homeless from sleeping outside, the federal government says 

The Federal Government Says Being Homeless Should Not Be A Crime 

The Homeless and the Eighth Amendment 

When Punishing Innocent Conduct Violates the Eighth Amendment: applying the 

Robinson Doctrine to Homelessness and Other contextual "Crimes" 

A Dream Denied: The Criminalization of Homelessness in U.S. Cities

Criminals without a Choice: Why the Eighth Amendment Alone Cannot Protect the Homeless

Activists cheer DOJ filing on homeless right to sleep outdoors

HUD Puts Teeth Into Effort to Stop Criminalizing Homeless People 

Anti-homelessness legislation

It would also be very beneficial for all of us to form opinions about this, since well over a million people are affected by inadequate shelter, many of them children...

Although the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development in January 2012 annual point-in-time count found that 633,782 people across the United States were homeless, other counts vary widely. In a recent approximation, an estimated 1.6 million unduplicated persons used transitional housing or emergency shelters. Of these people, approximately 1/3 are members of households with children, a nine percent increase since 2007. Another approximation is from a study done by the National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty, which states that approximately 3.5 million people, 1.35 million of them children, are likely to experience homelessness in a given year (National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty, 2007).

[Source: Wikipedia - Homelessness in the United States] 

A person who is homeless usually has a condition they cannot help--homelessness. To deny and prosecute him (I'll use the male pronoun, but this could apply to either gender) for sleeping in a public place can be seen as "excessive... cruel or unusual punishment." The theory is that you cannot punish a person for trying to survive. Sleep is needed to survive.

The opposing side of the argument is that in most towns and cities there are missions and shelters, so a person doesn't have to sleep outside.

My answer to that is that shelters and missions are often full, they can be dangerous (possibly violent and very often are open to theft--something I've heard homeless people say a thousand times), and they are notoriously difficult to locate when moving from town to town. 

Assume a person walks into town at 8:00 p.m. and needs to sleep. If the shelter is five miles away, he would have to walk for an additional hour and forty five minutes--probably longer if he has a hard time locating it. By then, it is about 10 p.m. Most missions require he be there by no later than 8:00 p.m. He is now dangerously tired. It is later, colder, darker... You get the picture.

His life is potentially in danger. And, he needs to sleep (a human need--a human right). If he is able to access a place on public land and has the equipment needed to stay there, he should have the right to do that--not live there; to sleep there. To disallow this or criminalize it is inhumane and (I think) violates his 8th Amendment right, as well as the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

Now, regarding private land. If a person is lost in the woods and needs shelter, then runs across an empty cabin, he has the right to enter it in order to survive the night. This is an unusual and extreme case, but illustrates one far end of the private property dilemma. Of course, he should leave a note with his identifying information, and offer to pay for any damages he may have wrought upon entering (in the same way a person camping on public land should never leave trash and of course not disturb anything there). Given the opportunity to get permission, it is probably likely that it could be secured for one night by the owner. This may or may not be the case for rough camping on private land. To ask for permission would be unrealistic, given the nature of the homeless lifestyle. 

There were only two times in over two hundred rough camps that I camped on a residential property. One was in Stratford, Connecticut (on the Manifest Destiny Journey) and the other was south of Petaluma, California. They were at times of sheer desperation. I felt I had no other choice. I have had considerable experience sleeping on land for sale. Technically, these would be private properties but no one lived at them. Athens is an excellent example of this. I lived for two weeks in a small wooded area (I think it was about six acres--check out the Athens blog post, Days 174 through 193). I knew it was commercial land for sale. I vetted it on Google StreetView and had seen the same "for sale" sign in the Google image from 2012. So, it wasn't exactly being overrun with potential buyers.     

I have been honest and upfront about where I sleep; showing these places on the blog to anyone who might be interested, including the owners of these properties and the authorities in the towns where I've camped. Look for yellow arrows in pictures at the end of posts. I always leave them clean (sometimes cleaner than they were before I arrived). These intentional disclosures are to be demonstrations about how one can survive when homeless. The camping nights themselves necessitate stealth, but my record of them is fully discussed. If someone wanted to come after me for legal reasons, I would invite the opportunity to deal with this subject in a more public way. Though I'm not looking to be the voice of sleepy homeless people, I will be if I have to be. The descriptions of camping are just part of telling what I do every day.   

Saying people who have no home should only live in missions and shelters is unreasonable, unrealistic, and limits their freedom as Americans to travel and self-determination. It doesn't matter whether they choose the homeless lifestyle or not. They still need to sleep (for example).

There is such a variety of other aspects that float to the surface of this issue. As I have implied, I believe that being able to have private moments (besides just using a toilet or taking a shower) are also a need. 

Now, some folks really like to be around other people all the time. And, frankly, I have seen this as a common trait among other street people. They have a culture all their own. They enjoy a lively social life, complete with all of the drama, romance and family relationships of anyone in other "classes."

I, however, am not like that. I need time to myself, besides the long distance walking, to think, to relax, to just be alone. Campsites have done that for me. I enjoy no time of the day more than being alone around my tent. Why would I ever want to be confined to a shelter where I would sacrifice some of my rights to their rules, and have to be indoors when I prefer to be outdoors? 

I have no criminal record. I have a job. I pay taxes. I support the local economies of the places I pass through. For these and many other reasons, I believe I should not be persecuted for where I choose to sleep. And, as of yet, I have not been. Not one single time, have I been discovered or bothered in a sleep spot. No one has given me a hard time about it. It is not "luck."  It is mostly due to a large amount of experience at this point and my willingness to leave a light footprint--never littering nor harming any plant, animal, or person. The ancient concept of the nomadic hunter/gatherer has every kind of parallel with the life of the responsible modern, urban camper. 

* * * * * * *

I was glad to get up and get back on the road. I made my way down to the highway when no cars were coming and no trucks were pulling out. There was a less lengthy hike ahead of me (about nine miles). Still, after the last few days, it was daunting and physically taxing. The cramp I had in my back was still there but lessening. 

My heel was a different story. It always hurts,  especially after the first five miles, and then endorphins seemed to take over. It does feel better after sleeping or resting. The scenery, besides being bathed in a much-welcomed sunshine, was unremarkable--rural, mostly what I've already shown here. Only some animal related images caught my eye...      

Once a deer.

A cardinal. There were four of them involved in mating behavior, only one was female.

I was lucky to get this shot, even if his eyes are blocked by a twig.

As I approached Kings Mountain - which meant climbing steeply in the last few miles - I had a brief memory of Klamath Falls, Oregon. I'm not sure what it was, but something reminded me of it. It was nice country and a relatively prosperous and traditional little town...

Bamboo. The wind created the softest and most pleasant rustling sound

as it moved through the leafy tops of the plants. 

Amazingly close match for the color of the sky and the pine trees.

I turned onto King Street and easily located the library where I worked for about five hours, almost publishing my blog post...

Mauney Memorial Library. A nice old fashioned library updated

and very well maintained. Fast internet. New restroom.

The library was due to close at 5:00 p.m., but unfortunately they shut off the Wi-Fi at 4:47. This left me stuck with some unsaved changes. I put the laptop to sleep instead of shutting it down so that my changes would be held on the desktop, and then left to find McDonald's down on York Street to finish the post...

Perfect sized historic house. I like the chimneys on either side.

The town was just starting to lay sidewalks. I used them when I found them, but had to walk on a lot of grass. Just before McDonald's, I began to cross the Taco Bell driveway when a woman in a silver Ford came rushing into the same driveway, just missing me. She was on her cellphone. I saw her look into her rearview mirror as she parked. I just stood there with my hand up to my ear, as if holding a phone. As I indicated in my last post about many drivers, she neither apologized, nor acknowledged what she had done. She pretended it didn't happen. Her husband wouldn't even look at me. She sat in the car, perhaps hoping I would just leave...

This marks number eight in my gadget-related near misses with distracted drivers. If I were a cat, I'd be sweating the next one. I don't even get angry anymore - at least past the first few moments.  I choose my battles now. I can't change the world in the way I want to. I can only keep up a relentless trumpet call for driver responsibility, and await the next near miss. There will definitely be others.

I got to McDonald's and kept working on the post while checking for sleep spots. Google Earth showed a lot of green, but I just had a weird feeling about it all. I was facing the parking lot and looked up to see a small white cat outside trying to scrape squished french fries off the pavement with her teeth. A car came by from the drive thru just missing her, not slowing down. He'd seen the cat. The cat must have been pretty hungry, because she didn't even flinch at her own near miss. The french fry was too important to her.

I couldn't just sit there and watch this and took one of the burgers from my double cheeseburger and crushed it up, then walked out and called her over to the curb. She was skittish, but meowing. I placed the meat on the edge of the curb and walked back inside. She ran over and devoured it...  

Sorry for the blurry image, it was after sundown and the camera blurs moving images.

When she was done - which didn't take long - she looked up at me, and then ran right over to the squished french fry. Lord, she was a heart-tugger. I bought another hamburger (without onions) and crushed it like last one, then brought it out with a little bit of bun in case she wanted that. This time I left it in the container away from the parking lot... 

She was a cute cat and I - just for a moment - entertained the thought of trying to take her with me. But, it was a very quick and unrealistic thought. When I went back inside one of the employees came over and thanked me for feeding the cat. She said that she does the same thing every time it comes around. I asked her about shelters, etc. She said there aren't any, but that there is a spay and neuter clinic that she plans to bring a mother cat to along with four kittens who showed up under her porch. She's trying to save up the money. They are all females. So at $44 each, that $220. There are no free days at the clinic. She also has four other cats of her own--pets. If didn't, she said she would catch and keep this little white girl.

I'm not going to rant on stray and feral animals. You all know the sad story. My friends Marc and Lynn know these problems all too well. They have cared for cats in their neighborhood for many years. I believe he told me that they go through eighteen pounds of dry food a week. It might be a lot more.

Until I got to South Carolina I hadn't seen any feral cats on this Journey. There were two strays in Cowpens. I'm a true cat guy. One of the things that always keeps me going is wanting to see my old cat, Buddy, again. He lives a wonderful life now with my sister in Maine.

I finally published the post, and headed across the street to find my sleep spot. Its location is one of the worst that I've used. The spot on the ground was fine, but the area was not. I had to cross a field, walking along the tree line for about four hundred feet then push through pricker bushes and thick vines into a hilly area.

I got the tent set up and climbed in. Suddenly I heard a huge dog barking at me from the adjacent yard, about thirty feet away. He kept getting to the end of his run and then trampled around in the leaves, growling. It was getting cold. The frost on the field I'd just walked across crunched heavily under my feet. I speculated that these folks would probably call their dog in later. He stopped barking after a while. Now I was anxious about how I would get out without alerting him in the morning. One of my mantras is now  "One moment at a time." I fell asleep just wanting to leave as soon as possible in the morning, even though I hadn't had very restful sleep in the last two nights.

Kings Mountain Sleep Spot.

_______________________________________________________________________

PLEASE CLICK ON OUR SPONSOR ADS BELOW FOR GREAT DEALS!

_______________________________________________________________________

Dear Iwallkers, I would like to sponsor Alex's Iwallk project with an offer of a discount for a product I carry call Cold Bee Gone. You can read more about it by clicking this ad! If you would like to purchase some Cold Bee Gone for yourself or for the holidays we offer you 25% off by typing the code, "IWALLK" into the "Discount" field at checkout. Not only will this bring your purchase cost down (plus shipping which is USPS priority flat rate), but we will donate five dollars per bottle sold directly to Alex and his Journey. This is the height of cold season so we hope this is an appealing option to support your own health through the winter and also support the blog! Bee Well Iwallkers! ~ JCD

_______________________________________________________________________

PLEASE CLICK ON OUR NON-PROFIT CAUSES TO SUPPORT YOUR COMMUNITY!

_______________________________________________________________________

Support Dawna Lamson's Simply Smiles fundraising campaign! 

From her page...

Help me support Simply Smiles by making a donation to my Win A Trip campaign! With your help, you can send me to Oaxaca, Mexico or the Cheyenne River Reservation in South Dakota to work with Simply Smiles. The process is fast, easy, and secure. I truly appreciate any support you can provide. And, no matter the outcome, it will benefit a great cause! 

If you can't make a donation at this point, help me reach my goal by sharing this page on Facebook and Twitter! Or, even better, send an e-mail to friends you think might be interested in contributing and include a link to my page! 

Thanks so much for your generosity!

This will be a wonderful opportunity for Dawna to provide a brighter future for impoverished children, their families, and their communities. It's easy to give! Just click on Dawna's picture below.

_______________________________________________________________________

A Living Magazine - Day 221 - Homecoming - Gaffney to Grover

At about 5:00 a.m. I heard thump, thump, thump, raugh, raugh... Deer; two or three. My impulse was to get up and take some pictures of them. I sat up and opened the flaps to look out. Unfortunately, they were down in a gully and it was still very dark out. They knew I was there (animals always do). I just lay back down and listened to them walk around. Even for their size and weight, their hooves are designed by evolution to make the smallest possible sound. You'd think leaves would be noisy, and they are. Yet, while humans can't help making our walking presence known with our relatively flat feet and poor eyesight, deer are usually only heard when they want to be.

Another thing I'd like to mention about deer. We see them as afraid of everything, as kind of dumb (being caught in headlights, etc.), but such is not the case. First of all they stomp on the ground very aggressively to announce that they are there. If they have to, they will literally kick your ass all over the woods. Their role in nature as a "prey" animal is somewhat misunderstood. Even wolves will not usually go after a big buck unless they are pretty sure nothing else is around to eat, or the deer is sick and/or injured. Deer can be intimidating. 

I remember once when I was sleeping at a forgotten cemetery in Crafton, Pennsylvania on the Manifest Destiny Journey (a suburb of Pittsburgh), I had my first close up run-in with a deer. This was before I had the tent and I just slept out on my old tarp in the sleeping bag. Early in the morning on that day, I heard the stomping right next to me. I rolled over to see a six point buck. He started barking at me. I couldn't believe how loud it was. Scared the shit out me. I looked around and noticed something I hadn't seen when bedding down. I was sleeping right in the middle of a deer trail. I was afraid he'd attract people to the area, so tried to shoo him off, thinking he'd just run away. Not a chance.

He stepped closer, calling my bluff. I was like, "Okay, big boy, maybe we can talk this over..." He was having none of it, and lowered his head. I stood up slowly and grabbed all my stuff (the pack was much bigger then, with all kinds of junk strapped on), crumpled up the tarp and slunk away backwards a little way into the woods. Wasn't good enough. He stomped and stepped forward again. That was it, Man. With my pack half on, and the tarp under my arm, I slowly retreated out to the roadside, where I got my shit together and continued on my walk. Looking back, I noticed that he was sniffing the ground where I had been. Lesson from that day: Respect the strength and resolve of deer.

I really feel that I understand them now. I have not yet been confronted with a wild animal that I didn't see as noble in their own way. They just do what they do. That's the thing about animals. There are no "good" or "bad" ones. Those are human projections of character. We demonize certain creatures and make fun of others. But ultimately, we are only talking about ourselves. It can be our way of collectively feeling more comfortable with the fact that we are now so separated from nature as to be alien to the very earth upon which we evolved beside all of these other critters. It makes us feel better to discount and even persecute and kill innocent creatures for no other reason than to hold on to the illusion that we rule the world--we need to show it who's boss. We may have the power to destroy the world, but we don't rule it.

I packed up quickly, not being able to get back to sleep. Then I stood around for about a half hour hoping to catch a glimpse of the deer, but they had gone back deeper into the woods. I walked back out onto Serenity Drive, then Route 105 and down to McDonald's...  

Outside McDonald's. And, I thought that I let my last boots get bad!

I bought the coffee and started up Route 18 which connected with Route 29, my main highway lately...

Here's a distant relative of some kind. There is also a

Wall Street--but I guess that's not saying much.

It was another interminably grey day, chilled and damp.

This vineyard - such as it was - was for sale. I had a fleeting vision

of the vineyards I passed every day when I lived for four months in Livermore, California.
But they didn't look like this.

Some of you will remember this story from Facebook. About five miles south of Blacksburg, I had a slightly traumatic experience involving a dog. I hear dogs barking at me all the time. It is a constant and - after a while - irritating thing. Only three times on this last Journey have unleashed dogs run up to me.

One time it was a very angry dog (German Shepherd) and I did not react at all. This confused him and he never got close. The next time it was a white pitbull-mix, with blue eyes, that came bounding down a hill on the same side of the road on which I was walked. She didn't look angry, so I said, "Hi pup!" Her tail went up and she waddled up to me to be petted and scratched. It was very busy on the road. And, her owner, who was in the driveway fixing his car, didn't even call her back, though he knew she was there. I found this disturbing. I had to keep pulling her back from running out in front of cars. I decided to just keep walking and she kept up behind me for about 100 feet then ran home.

Yesterday was the third time. I was doing my road shoulder thing and I heard two tiny dogs on the other side of the street go bananas. They were up on a hill and ran as fast as they could (all I saw were two little tails above the grass) across the yard and then toward the driveway. I wouldn't have even looked, but I heard them getting closer and closer as they ran down the driveway. Cars were flying by at 60 mph.

Finally, I stopped and watched as the two (both miniature dachshunds) run right into the lane of traffic across from me. The black one was the leader and the brown one followed him, but was unsure what they were getting themselves into, and held back a bit.

I was horrified. The last thing I needed was to watch yet another dog get killed, especially trying to get to me!

There was no time to do anything. A white SUV came charging up the lane the dogs were in and the brown one ran back to the edge of the road. The black one stood and yipped at me. I yelled, "No, you're gonna hit!"

As the car (which didn't slow down before or after this) reached the driveway, I tried to turn away. I didn't want the image to loop in my mind for the next month. But, I couldn't help turning back, and saw the car pass right over the little black dog who, by the grace of Something, had stayed in the middle of the lane. It yipped as the muffler touched its back on the way by; the dog being straddled by the car's tires on each side. Good thing it was a small dog!

Then, just before another car reached him, he turned and ran back to his friend on the side of the road, and they both continued to bark as they sprinted back up the driveway and over to the house, looking over their shoulders occasionally at me.

It was just TOO close a call. Even though the dog wasn't hurt, it affected me for the rest of the hike. The owners of those dogs were out in the driveway as I walked away. They never said anything. They saw what happened. And, as I said, the white SUV never slowed down. And, he knew what he had done. He had no idea that he hadn't killed the dog, but he absolutely knew that he had driven over it.

I really do think sometimes that the majority of people - though well intentioned - are cowardly and irresponsible with their lives and the lives of others (including animals) when driving. They would rather turn away, keep driving, pretend nothing happened, etc., than correct themselves or face the situations they let happen. All the while, they will go onto Facebook and click "like" on any heartwarming animal stories that same night.

I see a lot out here. I see just how terribly some people drive (not just with the texting, but in general). Only about 10% of the cars that pass me (I walk on the left hand side of the road, against the flow of traffic--it is illegal and insane to do otherwise), will move over at all. That is with no breakdown lane and a steep, badly maintained shoulder. One in ten cars will move far out of the way, or at least enough to give me a good five feet. I always give the peace sign to any driver whose driver's side wheels pass fully over the middle line to avoid me.

I honestly believe that over 80% of the people who pass by me would keep driving if they hit me. They would pretend they didn't know, or they would figure I'm just another vagrant, useless, homeless man and that no one would care anyway. Okay, maybe not, but I can only judge by what I observe.

In person, people are very kind and respectful to me. But get them in their cars - or, shit, even in their driveways next to their cars - and many of them become unfeeling robots who could not care less about people who walk, and apparently even their own pets near the road.

I know I sound jaded and cynical. But you really can't judge yourself from behind the wheel. Much more is revealed about you from the walker's perspective. PLEASE, keep these things in mind. When it really boils down to it, I know that drivers are good people who don't want to hurt anybody or anything. They must simply keep in mind that being in their cars is not an excuse for them to become stupid or careless. Just because the occupants of a car are relatively safe, the rest of the world is not safe from them. And, in many ways, the world is a less safe place because of them.

There is something about the interior of a car (I know, I've had a dozen cars and love to drive) that makes the outside world seem more like a movie; something that is not really happening. But it is happening, and some of us who don't drive are depending on drivers checking their reality meters every now and then. Animals would appreciate it too. I was shaken up but continued on...

Muddy river 606.

A larger, muddy river.

Blacksburg finally came into sight after eight miles of mostly walking on the grass shoulder. I'd given up on the back and forth from road to grass, because it had become maddening. The cars didn't care anyway. It took a toll on my calves and ankles, but the heel didn't hurt as badly. Like a reoccurring dream, I walked by yet another cemetery, and the obligatory plastic flower...

Blacksburg was much smaller than Gaffney. Its downtown area wasn't even a mile in length. I found the library and settled in to write my post, keeping an eye on the time. I was absolutely determined to cross the border into North Carolina. I left around 3:00 p.m. for the six mile walk to Grover, North Carolina...

The iconic magnolia cone. I'd shown so many in architecture lately,

I thought this might be a good chance to show the real thing.

Once a railway.

Once a cabin.

Once filled with junk.

Again, I only got the welcome sign as I left. Ha!

Imagine walking all day on this shoulder.

What number are we on now?

The more hours of the day go by, the more painful and slow the walk becomes. Eventually, the buildings went by with greater frequency, and the trash increased... 

I knew I was at the border!

I'd reached Grover. South Carolina is the only state that I've walked through entirely. In all other states I have taken some form of transit to some destination. In fact, since walking out of Athens, Georgia on this Homecoming Journey, I have had taken no transport from town to town. I felt proud of this. And, I hope to continue it as long as I can. I have a feeling that as I get near Washington D.C. I will have to take a bus in and out of it--maybe some other cities too. The other situation that might require such a thing is an injury.

Intellicast had shown that the next day would be sunny, for once. I was treated to a beautiful sunset. Sailor's delight. I didn't really even know it was there until the backs of the signs in front of me began to turn pink and then orange...

A look back.

I'd made damn sure to find a pretty reliable sleep spot on Google Earth before leaving Blacksburg, and it took no time at all to walk through Grover and get to it. It was across from some kind of trucking company. I saw no signs discouraging a night's sleep, so I crossed the highway and went straight up into the woods. The place was very good--or so it seemed; clean and somewhat grassy. I wedged in between several small pine trees, and set up the tent...

The security profile was excellent. Except for a couple ATV trails and a big open woods behind me, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be bothered. The only other thing was that I had unwittingly positioned myself across from the driveway of the trucking business. There were headlights on my position periodically throughout the night. But I relied on what I've called "light blindness": the phenomenon at night whereby the illuminated trees and other objects are all that is seen, even when I'm right behind them and would be visible in the daytime. Light can obscure things just as well as shadows. I fell asleep, but it was not very restful as I will describe in the next post.

Grover Sleep Spot.

_______________________________________________________________________

PLEASE CLICK ON OUR SPONSOR ADS BELOW FOR GREAT DEALS!

_______________________________________________________________________

Dear Iwallkers, I would like to sponsor Alex's Iwallk project with an offer of a discount for a product I carry call Cold Bee Gone. You can read more about it by clicking this ad! If you would like to purchase some Cold Bee Gone for yourself or for the holidays we offer you 25% off by typing the code, "IWALLK" into the "Discount" field at checkout. Not only will this bring your purchase cost down (plus shipping which is USPS priority flat rate), but we will donate five dollars per bottle sold directly to Alex and his Journey. This is the height of cold season so we hope this is an appealing option to support your own health through the winter and also support the blog! Bee Well Iwallkers! ~ JCD

_______________________________________________________________________

PLEASE CLICK ON OUR NON-PROFIT CAUSES TO SUPPORT YOUR COMMUNITY!

_______________________________________________________________________

Support Dawna Lamson's Simply Smiles fundraising campaign! 

From her page...

Help me support Simply Smiles by making a donation to my Win A Trip campaign! With your help, you can send me to Oaxaca, Mexico or the Cheyenne River Reservation in South Dakota to work with Simply Smiles. The process is fast, easy, and secure. I truly appreciate any support you can provide. And, no matter the outcome, it will benefit a great cause! 

If you can't make a donation at this point, help me reach my goal by sharing this page on Facebook and Twitter! Or, even better, send an e-mail to friends you think might be interested in contributing and include a link to my page! 

Thanks so much for your generosity!

This will be a wonderful opportunity for Dawna to provide a brighter future for impoverished children, their families, and their communities. It's easy to give! Just click on Dawna's picture below.

_______________________________________________________________________