Monday, August 14th, 2017

Ely, Nevada

Questions in Ely

Barney was his name.  I'm not sure if it was his first or his surname.  By profession he’s a police officer—one who had a lot of questions about my walking mission.  He went for details.

“Where did you start?”

“Boston.”

“Where do you finish?”

“San Francisco, one month from now.  I'm encouraging the walking culture.”

“Fascinating.  How much distance in a day?”

“Twenty miles.”

“You have a support team?”

“Yes, we’re all Canucks, or Canadians.”

“What kind of shoes do you use?” he asked, while looking intently at them.

“Kyboot. Swiss technology.  Made in Italy.”

“Which highway are you taking?”

“50—all across the state.”

“And then?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“Let’s get away from the traffic,” he said.  He was overly safety conscious.  Very curious.  Not nosey.  He just wanted to understand our method and our purpose.  It all sounded good to him.  He had more questions.  It kept flowing like a waterfall.  I felt like asking him to give up his career and join the walk.

Other than Barney, I met Zeke who was cycling across the U.S.  Nice young fellow who’s roughing it.  He expressed he was confused about the U.S. political scene.

“I think a lot of people are,” I assured him so he would not feel alone.

By the way, the Old Lincoln Highway has linked up with us again.  He’s like an old acquaintance.

May the Source be with you!

20 mi