Day 5: Resting Them Feet

The Fool took a break today, hanging out at the Howard Johnson's.

No walking, unless you count the 1/2 mile or so the Fool wandered trying to find a place that sold Neosporin so he could apply some healing action to his bleeding toes and his chafing thighs.

He found nothing, but was allowed to raid the hotel's first-aid kit affixed to a wall in the dank room behind the front desk. Unfortunately, all he found was a few packets of iodine, several rolls of gauze of various sizes, and a half-used stick of deodorant (undoubtedly for the 3rd shift night clerk). He took the packets of iodine and retired to his room to watch 24-hour news on CNN as it rained outside.

Day 6: Friends of the Fool

On Sunday, the Friends of the Fool headed out to visit him. They took a New Jersey Transit train from New York down to the Hamilton station northeast of Trenton.

The Fool checked out of the HoJo's and a walked a couple of miles south to meet them. They headed east to a nearby movie theater where they saw Semi-Pro after lunching at a Pizzeria Uno. Then they walked back to the train station. They sat for a while under a sculpture watching Canada geese do their thing (eat grass, follow the leader). There were Canada geese all over the place.

After the Friends left the Fool, he walked a few miles southwest into Trenton. He stayed at the Budget Inn -- an unpleasant motel. The Fool touched as few surfaces as possible in the room that night.

Day 7: Into Pennsylvania

The Fool walked from Trenton to Philadelphia today -- nearly 29 miles!

After gingerly removing himself from the malodorous Budget Inn, our hero walked through downtown Trenton and crossed the Delaware River at the Calhoun Street Bridge. He hooked up with a canal trail right by the river and followed it about ten miles to the town of Bristol, PA. Then he got onto Route 13 and walked all the way into Philly. He stayed at a Days Inn on Roosevelt Boulevard near Frankford Creek.

Route thus far

Day 8: Phillystyle

From his hotel in Philadelphia, the Fool walked over to Broad Street. He headed south on Broad all the way downtown where he visited the main public library. He did some online research there after waiting a while for a computer to become available.

Then the Fool went southwest, toward Chester where his next overnight stay would be. He walked through some very tough neighborhoods on his way there. But he shook his fist vigorously which seemed to intimidate most of the ruffians.

Route thus far

Day 9: Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come For You?

The Fool walked from his Days Inn Hotel to the Chester public library, where he did some more research. Then he proceeded southwest, through an area of oil tanks and refineries. Here the Fool had his first encounter with cops!

He had his video camera out and was filming the industrial landscape when he saw some trucks go by. A few minutes later a police car arrived. The officer asked the Fool what he was doing there, why he was filming, etc. Another car was called. Eventually five police cars were there. The police officers asked to see what the Fool had taped. He rewound the tape and showed them some of his footage. After about 20 minutes of patiently answering questions, complying with requests, and completing paperwork, the Fool was free to leave.

He crossed the state border into Delaware — his fourth state — and walked into Wilmington. He asked a local man there about the best routes which would take him west out of the city. According to the man, all the west-bound routes went through "dicey" neighborhoods. However the Fool discovered that the so-called dicey areas were rather ordinary.

The Fool found a wooded area about 5 miles west of Wilmington and set up his tent for the night.

Route thus far

Day 10

The Walking Fool got up and slipped into Newark, DE, where he stared at pretty, pert college students from the University of Delaware. After creeping out many young coeds, the WF left town and entered the next state of Maryland! (This route he's taking really cruises through the different states fast!) A few miles later, he reached the town of Blueball... and had a good laugh at the name. At least the locals had the good sense NOT to pluralize the town name.

As night fell, he set up camp east of Calvert, MD.

Route thus far

Day 11: A Dam Foolish Crossing

Waking up in a patch of trees outside of Calvert, the Fool trounced forward, eager to get to the Pumpton Park "Zoo," which is famous for having the largest menagerie of chickens in the state. However, our traveling friend became crestfallen when he discovered a large wooden "CLOSED FOR THE SEASON" sign blocking the entrance. Dejected but determined to move on, the Fool walked to the next town of Rising Sun for a delicious McDonald's lunch. Soon after, the Fool started hearing tales from locals about the upcoming dam's passability. According to the seasoned natives of this area, the Conowingo Dam is not very pedestrian-friendly... in fact, one set of grizzled farmers warned him that there's a distinct possibility of getting arrested by the local police if caught walking on the dam.

After a brief consideration of detouring north, the Fool finally decided to go for it. He took a deep breath, pulled up his britches and made a mad dash across the Conowingo Dam! Cars honked, sirens went off and the shoulder on the road narrowed from 16 inches to zero... but the Fool made it. He collapsed for the night a few miles southwest of the river crossing.

Route thus far

Day 12: Walking Fool or Expert Malefactor

The Fool woke up from his tent in a small patch of trees in a fairly wooded rural area of Maryland. As he was airing out his tent and groundsheet, a big fella in a pickup truck pulled along side the road and asked what he was doing. The Fool said something or another about hiking and camping and America and then asked the man what exactly was he implying. The man in the P/U truck revealed that there had been a few robberies in the area and he just wanted to make sure he wasn't the vexing thief they've been looking for. Once the WF convinced the local in the truck that he was a mere backpacker and not a mastermind criminal who camps two miles from the latest house he robbed from, the man waved and drove off.

Later, the WF reached Bel Air, MD and looked around for the Fresh Prince. Once he was informed he was looking in the wrong state and that he was looking for a fictional character, the Walking Fool checked out of town. He continued walking into the early evening, light rain starting to trickle down. He camped in Gunpowder Falls State Park a ways from the road.

Route thus far

Day 13: Baltimore

About 11 miles traveled today.

The WF was woken up at the break of dawn by a curious dog being walked by his early-riser owner. But before he was able to pee on the Fool's tent, the dog was whisked away by its owner and the Fool was able to break down his (illegally) camp. Rain still drizzled down as he left Gunpowder Falls Park, draggimg himself through the mushy mud, back onto U.S. 1.

He walked south to Herring Run Park, closing in on the city of Baltimore. As he reached his cruddy hotel on the north side of town, the sun came out and shined upon his weary shoulders. The Fool gave the sky a thumbs up and checked into his 50 dollar room.: :

Route thus far

Day 14: A Stabbing Good Time

The WF woke up and slumped downstairs where he chatted with some friendly Baltimore police in the breakfast lounge of the hotel. They were very excited for the the Fool's journey and were highly impressed with his progress so far. They had many more questions to ask but were suddenly called away by the dispatch to go to a 102 in progress. They said goodbye and dashed out, clutching their weapons.

The Fool left the hotel and wandered around outside, getting lost in the massive tangle of off- and on-ramps, and over- and under-passes. He finally found his way to Route 40, which took him into central Baltimore. After a quick stop at a library branch near Patterson Park, he crossed into the downtown waterfront neighborhood. He looped around the downtown area and reserved a room at the upscale Hilton, near the harbor.

As night fell, the Fool went into historic Fells Point, with its cobbled stone streets and its picturesque waterfront landscape. He went on a self-guided "bar crawl," having beers at many of the charmingly old and rickety pubs. At one such drinking establishment, he met and joined a small, jovial crew of folks out for an evening of social entertainment. Heather, one of the Fool's new gleeful, good-natured companions, admitted to him that she was secretly a stabbing addict. She explained that she, along with a small fringe group of others, enjoy getting stabbed for pleasure. "Pen knives, letter openers, nail clippers... anything small and sanitary," she explained to a stunned Fool. Then, after showing a deep scar on her belly, she added, "Of course, I'm just making all this up. That scar is from when I got my appendix taken out."

"Oh yeah, I knew that. I knew you were just joking," the Fool lied. He then sheepishly hid in the corner to chug several lagers... or ales... or... at that point, he didn't really care.

Route thus far

Day 15: Breakfast of Chumpions

Waking up in the lap of luxury known to outsiders as the Hilton Garden Inn in downtown Baltimore ($208 per night = bargain), the Walking Fool crawled out of his plush bed, bearing a slight hangover. After gulping a few Advils, taking a long hot shower and releasing a long, hearty bowel movement, the WF went downstairs for his complimentary continental breakfast. Observing the half-assed breakfasts offered at Super 8's and Best Westerns, the fool was delighted to find a vast array of breakfast choices from bacon to pancakes to good ol' toast. After taking a modest portion of meats and potatoes and requesting a simple order of 2 scrambled eggs, the fool earned his moniker by discovering a huge sign advertising the low, low cost of $12.95 for the small sampling of food items on his plate. WF slapped his forehead and received a check from a waiter who had an expression on his face that seemed to imply he suspected the fool was somehow trying to steal food.

An hour later, the Fool moseyed past the harbor, waved to tourists, and received convoluted and inaccurate directions from a 75-year old man at the Baltimore Visitors Center. The WF found out later that even though the elderly man was officially employed by the Visitors Center, his job was to restock the brochure tables (plus rumor has it that the man often thought he was in Boise, ID).

Eventually, he made it to the outskirts of the city which would mostly likely be described by the Wilmington man (see Day 9) as "extremely dicey." But he made it through the tough neighborhoods unscathed, finding his way to the Balt/Wash International Airport which had a convenient hike/bike trail that followed the entire border. The Fool enjoyed the off-road trail that would have been extremely tranquil if it wasn't for the booming airplanes that roared a few feet above his head every 5-10 minutes.

After the airport, the WF was back on-road. As he approached the town of Odenton, the fool waved to some young kids whose earnest eyes were glued to his every footstep. The town of Odenton offered a couple things -- a freestanding BBQ stand that served ribs and chili; suspicious police officer that drove very slowly past the fool; and the WB&A trail that went southwest towards the fool's next large destination: Washington, DC.

He camped out just off the trail and inches away from one of the many residential housing communities that were built post-1995.

Day 16: Land of Meyers

The Fool woke up stiff and groggy after semi-sleeping through another 25-degree night. He hopped back onto the rail-trail just as a young lady was power walking by. The lady seemed a bit shaken by this sudden companion who happened to be walking at the same speed, only a few paces behind her. Clearly this frightened her enough to finally switch into a speedy jaunt and put some distance between her and the Fool. She did this until she could reach the safety of the next crossroad.

About an hour later, the Fool was off the trail and found himself at the dead end of a road near a local refinery/factory/some-sort-of-industrial-building. The fool was confused since his map indicated that there was a thru-road that crossed the river, passed a racetrack and hooked back up with the rail trail. He stopped a local workman in his bulldozer/car and asked how to get to the racetrack. The man sullenly shook his head and pointed back the direction where the fool came. He said just 2 words: "route 3." The man drove away and the fool consulted his map. Route 3 was at least 5-6 miles away and would then take him another 5-6 miles out of his way before hooking back up with the racetrack. Desperate, the Fool flagged down another worker in his pickup truck. The kindly man told WF that the roads that led to the river were all owned by the Meyers who didn't take to kindly to trespassers. He also added a tidbit that the Meyers owned many guns and all were eagle-eyed. But the workman didn't seem to dissuade the fool too much. He actually encouraged him to give it a shot, but said to just "keep moving."

Even though the man told him about the disgruntled Meyers and the fact that the bridge was out, the Fool finally decided to go for it. He rambled through the woods for an hour, trying to stay out of sight of any of the Meyers' homes. When he reached the river, the WF discovered it was indeed bridgeless, but fairly broken up. So he took off his shoes and waded through one section, put his shoes back on and walked across a narrow log to get over the 2nd half of the river -- all this while listening to distant gun fire being rattled off at some firing range.

Making it back onto the rail trail by the racetrack, unshot by Meyers and undampened by the river, the sky then proceeded to rain 14 inches of water onto his head and body.

Cold and soaking wet, the Fool decided to check into another hotel. He ate McDonalds and watched "American Idol" at the creepy Red Roof Inn, about 6-7 miles outside of DC.

Day 17: Washington DC

The Fool left the Red Roof Inn, heading into the District of Columbia. The wind was against him -- 35 mph worth. The Fool entered the District like Peter Sellers in "Being There," awestruck by the impressive landmarks. After passing the Capitol Dome, the Washington Monument and the heavily-guarded White House, he reached the Lincoln Memorial right at sunset. He sat on top of the monument's edge, his feet dangling in the orange-colored light. "Ahh!" he sighed, "this is what this walk is all about."
About 3 minutes later, his butt started freezing to the concrete wall he was sitting on. He jumped up and walked through Georgetown to get to the Chesapeake and Ohio (C&O) Canal trail.

The WF camped on the seemingly quiet Potomac river, thinking he was out of the government sector. He became nervous when he found out from the one of his friends that he was actually less than a mile away from the Vice President's house. To add to his fears, helicopters rattled over ever 20 minutes or so, spotlights scanning the area. The Fool hoped he wouldn't get spotted.

Day 18: Canal Trail Mix

The Fool got up ready to spend the next 10 to 12 days on the C&O trail. Except he forgot to get supplies. So he backtracked to the town of Cabin John to stock up, and sit down for lunch at a Chinese restaurant. He plugged in his phone there to recharge it, which was met with many curses from the restaurant manager. After the Chinese scream match, the Fool went back on the trail to hike another 15 miles. Along the way he met nice man with a dog, and saw elderly ladies. Further along the canal he was spooked by catfishermen in hip-high waders and wearing red lights on helmets.

Day 19: Finding Food

Food becoming in short supply, the Fool anxiously worked his way northwest on the trail. He hit the town of Whites Ferry, which was promised to have a shop to buy food and drink. He approached the store which was next to the only ferry crossing on the Potomac River. But he was disappointed to find out that the promised store was closed for the season! The crinkled sun-dyed paper sign in the window said "See you next year!!" and had a little drawing of a snowman waving. Thankfully, there was at least a pair of soda machines there ... and they actually worked. After passing more catfishermen on the trail, a growingly hungry Fool picked up the pace, trying to get to the next town of Point of Rocks. He was told that there was a restaurant right off the trail, called "Aroma House" where he could get a good hot meal. The WF was practically salivating when he saw the dim light of the small town ahead of him, like a small beacon in a large black abiss. But alas, the restaurant that was supposed to be open, was in fact, closed. There was just a liquor store there. "Open 265 days a year" the throaty cashier announced to the Fool as he showcased an array of wines and spirits... but no food.

With an empty stomach, the WF camped on the trail a few miles north of town. The wind was chilly as it swirled off the river and bouncing off the rock cliffs. He shakily set up his tent and ate the last of his kibble -- a small can of soup he cooked in an empty soda can and a few pieces of beef jerky. Yum!

Route thus far

Day 20: The Appalachian Trail and a quick visit to West Virginia

The Fool walked along the trail to Brunswick, following sidewalks and side roads to a McDonald's northwest of the town. After a healthy Big Mac and hot fudge sundae (the kid behind the counter gave him extra peanuts), he then went back down the hill and onto the trail, which coincided with Appalachian Trail for a while. A few mile later he crossed over to Harpers Ferry, WV. Some AT hikers he met along the way claimed the town was the central point of that colossal trail which extends 2,175 miles from Georgia to Maine. As soon as he arrived, he could tell the historic little town was practically screaming "Quaint!" The lower, riverfront area is actually the Harpers Ferry National Historical Park, which is maintained to look and feel like a 19th century village. The WF strolled down the picturesque streets, visiting the rustic shops, history exhibits and museums. After chatting with several hippy carpenters visiting from Ohio (who warned him of snowstorms they just left back home), the WF went and bought some much needed liner socks at a hiking store at the top of the steep hill. As the orange sun started dipping into the horizon, the Walking Fool went back into MD. He then camped a couple miles up the trail... ready for another cold night.

Day 21: A Bloody Mess

The Fool woke up cold and shivery after another below-freezing night. He also didn't get much sleep due to the fact that he was about 50 yards from an active railroad line. He slowly made his way up the hill, grumbling. Things got worse as his right foot began to bleed, which was fitting as he got off the trail and visited Antietam, the site of the bloodiest battle of the Civil War.


He continued on, limping along a back road, trying not to irritate his aching bloody feet. After a quick break to weep, he hobbled on through a hilly farm road, where he met a middle-aged couple in their SUV. They pulled over and offered him a drink, which he declined -- all he wanted was a bed. Having their drink offer rejected, they then offered him some advice: "There are some unsavory folks around here," the balding man warned, "so if a bunch of guys in a pick up truck pull over, I suggest you run." With that, they drove away, letting out a friendly toot on their horn. The Fool finally reached a patch of trees a few miles south of Williamsport, MD where he could set up his tent and rest his injured feet.

A few extra weeps could be heard from passing cars.

Route thus far

Day 22: Tom's Tale

The next morning, after another icy-cold night, the condensation on the inside of tent had frozen. As the Fool shook the tent to fold it, it looked like a snow globe. He headed up the road in eager anticipation of a hotel break in town. As soon as he hit the blacktop road, he happily noted that his right foot was feeling much better. The bleeding had stopped and it didn't really hurt at all. But then, almost 2 minutes later, he stumbled on some gravel in the shoulder of the road, and badly twisted his left ankle. He yelled many bad words into his sky at at the gravel.

Now limping on his other foot, the Walking Fool slowly inched his way to the town of Williamsport, MD. He went to a local McDonald's and chatted with Tom, a WWII vet, who claimed that he fought in the Battle of the Bulge. The WF wasn't sure whether to believe the talkative old man, because every 10 minutes or so he'd interject, "Most people think I'm full of shit!" Then he'd slyly look around and continue with one of his tall tales.

After a long morning at the McDonald's, the Fool walked across the street to the Red Roof Inn. He was delighted to find that the rooms were only $40 a night. The manager, seeing that the WF was weary and tired-looking, decided to put him in a room next to the ice machine, with no windows. But still, not bad for 40 bucks... although Old Man Tom claimed they would give him a room for free if he told them he was walking across the country. More evidence he was perhaps full of it.

Route thus far

Day 23

The Fool took a full day off from walking to let his feet heal. He ordered a large pizza from the local Pizza Hut, not bothering to put on pants when the delivery guy came. The Fool gave him an ample tip for having to endure the sight.

Day 24: Big Pool

The Fool left Williamsport to get back on the C&O trail. He walked along the wooded path for about 15 miles utill he hit the tiny town of Big Pool. He was lured in the shady, run-down town by the sight of a glowing R&C Cola soda machine. Unfortunately, it was out of order... probably since 1993. So, he plopped down on a patch of grass and snacked on some crackers, staring into a nearby yard strewn with broken toys and discarded furniture. The Fool quickly realized that he stuck out like a sore thumb in the town of Big Pool -- mainly because he had a full set of teeth and was wearing a shirt.

He hightailed it out of there and set up camp about 5 miles up the trail.

Route thus far

Day 25

The Fool walked into the town of Hancock, MD to pick up a general delivery package. When he had to sign for it, he asked "Want me to put my John Hancock there?" but was met a blank stare. He filled up on Pizza Hut and stumbled through a junk yard to get back on the trail. The Fool bounded happily up the trail.

Route thus far

Day 26: A Shortcut is Never a Shortcut

The trail was starting to get the best of the Fool — the monotony of nine days on a canal towpath can get a bit tiresome. "I swear I passed this same rock two days ago," he was heard muttering. But things brightened up when he hit the small blip of a town called Little Orleans, that had, as promised, a small establishment to get food and supplies.

The Fool entered the rickety old building bearing a wooden sign that read, "BILL'S PLACE." Hunters and fisherman gazed upon the strange backpacking newcomer as he entered the dark room. He sat down on a creaky stool at the bar and got himself a hamburger sandwich with a root beer. He spent a good part of his lunch chatting with Bill himself, who was the shop's owner and operator and somewhat of a local celebrity. He's been interviewed by National Geographic Magazine – Twice! Just for being an old guy with the longest running establishment in Little Orleans. Go figure.

About a half hour later, after an inquisitive drunken fisherman in dark green waders started getting a little too much into the Fool's personal space, he figured it was time to depart. He exited Bill's Place and headed down the dirt driveway. However, the drunken fisherman kept following him, still slurring questions like, "Are you going to be camping alone tonight? Where ya gonna be?" followed by defensive, "Not as if I-- I wasn't gonna... I-I wouldn't..." The Fool didn't say anything. He just politely waved goodbye and dashed down the sloping road. Suddenly it dawned upon him that he gave this fishing fella his card earlier... with all his contact info on it. (This was before he got a little too creepy.) This was realized when the Fool bended the corner and he could hear the fisherman say, "I'm gonna EMAIL YOU!"

He has never heard that phrase sound more ominous in his entire life.

After escaping the patrons of Bill's Place, the Fool was soon back on the monotonous canal trail. Still bored with a continuous dirt path, the Fool saw an opportunity to take a shortcut and skip one of the loops of the Potomac River. This would shave several tedious miles from his trip. But when he reached the other side of the loop he came up against a wide and deep canal separating him from the trail. He was forced to shimmy along a marshy embankment at the canal's edge for about a half mile, scale the edge of a rocky cliff, and finally cross the watery canal on a log in order to get back to the towpath/trail. All this took way too long and, in retrospect, would have probably been the same time if he just stuck to the trail.

Next it was on to Paw Paw, WV which he reached through an old 4000-foot tunnel. In Paw Paw he settled down in a newly opened sub shop for a spaghetti dinner. The proprietor was keenly interested in what the Fool thought of his place. The conversation ended with the owner saying "Tell your hiker friends."

Day 27: Bubble, Bubble, Toil and Trouble

The Walking Fool got up shaky from another long night of cold weather. He wobbled his way to the town of Oldtown (they're planning on renovating the town soon) about 7 miles up the trail. To keep his mind occupied, the WF had a humorous conversation with God. Naturally, it wasn't really God, it was simply a voice he was doing -- which the "God" character often pointed out to the Fool. "I'm not really God, you know, I'm just a voice you're doing. This is why my vocabulary is so bad."

Once the Fool hit Oldtown, he gingerly headed into town — which consisted of a post office and two houses. The fool heard a rumor that there was a place to get food at an establishment called the "Schoolhouse Kitchen." The fool was wary that such a place existed in such a thin town. He's been burned before. But sure enough, he soon discovered the local high school and right outside the cafeteria entrance was a large banner proudly announcing the "Schoolhouse Kitchen." The Fool was still a little cautious, as it was a Sunday, and it could be closed. But to his utter jubilation, it was open for business and served him up a delicious plate of cafeteria food. (Extra gravy was free!!)

After throwing his napkin down, the WF paid his bill, waved goodbye to the locals and headed back to the trail with a full stomach. About 2 minutes later, that full stomach turned into a full case of diarrhea that bubbled and brewed for the next 3 miles till the Fool could find a port-a-john. He was a much happy walker as he eased his way up to the outskirts of Cumberland, the last stop on the C&O Canal trail.

Route thus far

Day 28: End of a Trail

The Walking Fool got up after a somewhat restful night in the tent and walked the last 2.25 miles of the C&O trail. The Fool shed a tear, waved adieu and headed into historic Cumberland, MD. He immediately discovered George Washington's headquarters from the French and Indian War sitting on the far bank of the Potomac river. The Fool tried to enter the monumental structure, but it was locked. He peered in thru the window and viewed the manniquin display inside.

The Fool then headed up the hillside to enter the heart of the town and happened upon an elevation map that reminded the Fool that he had much uphill to tackle before reaching the hotel in the next town of La Vale.

After waiting (literally) 20 minutes for his order of 2 hotdogs at the chain convenience store SHEETZ, the Fool uttered "holy sheetz!" and consumed the terrible meat byproducts on a bun with mustard.

The Fool then went up the twisting and narrow Braddock Road which led him up the mountainside and then back down to the valley of La Vale — but not before being warned by a local that he should be careful when walking because "people drive like idiots."

He made it to the next town with no harm from idiotic drivers, and got himself a Super 8 Motel room for the next 2 days (59.98 plus tax).

Day 29: A Day Off For Films

The Fool took a day off from his walk. He heard that there was a movie theater in the small La Valle community and decided to go out and find it. He went to where Google Maps said it was, but all he found was a man mowing his lawn. He then noticed a sign indicating a mall on the other side of a small hill. He headed that way. A 20-year-old guy with an open shirt came running down the hill and past the WF. He asked the guy if the mall had a movie theater, to which the guy replied, "Idunno," and continued his mad dash.

The Fool did find the theater which was indeed in the mall. He had an hour to kill until the show started so he watched a guitar video game contest in the food court. 11-year old Bill Foster kicked ass, but his 8-year old sister Betty was wiped out after three guitar licks. He finally went to the theater to see his movie... which was a bad teen/action flick with a dull plot, stupid dialogue, and about twelve cuts per second. The Walking Fool exercised his keen ability to walk... and walked out on the movie about two thirds through.

Day 30: Back on the Road

After a full day's rest, the Fool was ready to tackle western Maryland. First, he hand washed some clothes at the local depression-inducing laundromat. Once back on the road, he suddenly hit a big hill -- a mountain really. He had the divine pleasure to hike up nearly 3000 ft to reach the peak of Big Savage Mountain. And after consulting his map, it was confirmed that this was to be just one of many more peaks to come. The Fool walked 14 more miles where he bought a sub at a Subway and some pea pods at a farmer's market. He set up camp in some woods just outside of a town called Grantsville.

Day 31: The Jubilee Begins

The Walking Fool tramped his way up the steep hill and into Grantsville. He went to a local mini-mart/cafe to get some breakfast but didn't follow the proper ordering procedures so just bought a Powerade instead. He walked another 7 miles to a McDonald's in the middle of nowhere. He ate a hearty salad, packed a few one-dollar double cheeseburgers for later and headed out. As he hit the breezy air, the WF had to choose which way to go: either take a back road which was rough but more direct, or take route 219 which was a main thoroughfare and in better shape, but meandered a bit and would take the Fool a few miles out of his way. After careful consideration, the Fool foolishly chose the back way. Even the name Devils Half Acre Road didn't seem to deter him a bit. It should have, as the back roads were windy and hilly… but at least the cars were scant, so it was fairly quiet and peaceful.


By dusk, a very pooped Fool finally reached the town of Friendsville, MD where he had dinner at the Jubilee Diner. The folks were friendly and the food was fine, but the decor was a bit odd. All the walls were adorned with various bible-inspired sayings like "Work Hard, Pray Hard, Love God." Yet, for some reason, there were also a few inexplicable posters and photos of Don Knotts hung up in-between these reverent sayings.


The fool exited the diner and was greeted with rain. The fool greeted the rain with curse words and sloppily set up his wet tent off a muddy back road.

Day 32: Tent Woes



Our traveling tramp got up and became quite angry (he said a word that begins with an "F" and ends with an "uck" many times loudly). He was angry that he woke up to find that his tent had basically become Lake Erie.

He folded up his oversized water balloon and continued on the muddy farm road until hitting the county line which was also the state line. The Fool was now in West Virginia, his 6th state so far. While drying out his things under a local church's pavilion, the fool called the North Face customer service and complained about the leaky faucet feature their 2300 Vario tent had. The lady on the line was very sympathetic, but had a very good excuse why the tent leaks... it's a "high and dry" tent designed for the desert.

So, the Fool now knew he had to get a new tent. He celebrated this new-found info by calling the Rush Limbaugh show. Rush's fill-in host was more interested in the Fool's walking exploits than his political views.

The Fool continued on to Bruceton Mills where he had a chicken steak lunch with all the trimmings at a suspiciously crowded tavern for 1 o'clock in the afternoon. He then paralleled I-68 on gravel roads, trying to get close to Morgantown, WV.

Day 33: New Shoes and Lost Shoes

The Fool got up and walked down the steep winding hill into the soft center of Morgantown, WV -- home of WVU's Mountaineers, Don Knotts, and every homeless man in the state. The Fool was repeatedly warned of the onerous street dwellers in the area... or he was mistaken for being one of them (his beard is getting long and his clothes are getting ratty). Some long haired dude kept on trying to get the Fool to come to his church for free food and shelter.

The Fool went to a local camping gear shop and bought a new tent that will hopefully keep out the rain a little better. He also bought some new shoes. After leaving the store, the fool had 2 tents and 3 pairs of shoes. He obviously had to discard some items. He left a tent by a bridge (which hopefully could be taken and used by some passing homeless fellow), but hadn't decided whether to get rid of his Nike sneakers or his Merrell hiking shoes.

The Walking Fool crossed Don Knotts Blvd. and got on a local rail trail that will take him to the next town of Fairmont, about 21 miles down the Monongahela River. A couple miles down the trail, the Fool decided to ditch the hiking shoes. He set the Merrells on the trail by a small waterfall and took off down the trail in his new shoes.

About 2 miles later, the new shoes started bothering the Fool's feet. They felt a little tight. Figuring they needed to be broken in a bit, the fool switched to his worn-in Nikes. But they weren't as comfy as the fool thought they'd be. Then he remembered -- the last week and a half, he's been wearing the Merrell hiking shoes almost exclusively. As he walked south mile by mile, the fool started regretting his choice of footwear to discard. Those Merrells got him through the mountainous West Virginia, and how does he pay them back? By tossing them to the wayside for some wandering bum to take. It soon became as tragic (in the fool's mind) as when Tom Hanks lost Wilson, the volley ball, in the movie "Cast Away." But now, the fool was five miles away from his beloved footwear. As he awkwardly set up his new tent, a near-teary-eyed fool came up with the only solution: Run back and get his shoes!!!