This is a brief recap of a day in 2013. Myself and a jogging stroller were crossing America to raise awareness and money for the Alzheimer’s Association.
I get up about 6:00 am. I am in a small motel on Route 66. Interstate 40 runs parallel to it.
No restaurants. I eat some Mountain House dehydrated food, and have a cup of coffee.
I pack up my stroller (Wilson) and say goodbye to my home for last night. It was a comfortable home. I watched television and spoke with family. I even considered staying another night, but I continued on.
I walked to the office and the manager wished me well and handed me 2 cold cokes for the road.
We went over I-40 and turned west onto Route 66. Still a bit dark so the lights on my stroller are flashing.
On Route 66 all day. Some people stop because of media, some stop from curiosity. All of them are courteous and concerned. Later, I look up and see two dots in the distance. The dots keep getting bigger. I notice the saddle bags. It’s two men on bicycles. They ask what I am about. I explain. They are crossing America because of the loss of loved ones, due to cancer.
One of them can’t hold back and he starts crying. He says he can’t imagine crossing on foot, no support vehicle, alone and at my age. He apologizes for the age remark. 🙂 They were probably in their thirties. We say goodbye with hugs.
People stop and give me water and food and ask if I need anything.
Some folks over on Interstate 40 blow their horns and wave.
I remember around noon to call ahead and make sure the next little motel has a room. They do.
I see windmills, lots of flatland, and an occasional closed up motel or gas station.
It’s kind of warm and I stop at each overpass to cool down a bit. I have plenty of water.
In the distance I see a tall sign that looms above my home for the night.
I check in and the manager wants to know. I share and then head to my room. Flip on the a/c, the tv and take a bath. For at least a little while, I will relax. I am home.
I walk out later and look up at the stars and think of . . . . .