Today, I am an ant...

Damascus, Virginia - 450+ miles hiked. It's hard to believe, no, it's almost impossible to believe I've gotten this far. Those of you who know me know what I'm capable of, but I don't often see it in myself...

We've all seen a line of ants, either inside or preferably outside our house...all following each other in a seemingly mindless line, trekking on inch after inch, foot after foot until they reach their destination. Out of panic, we have often broken those trails and wiped out a section of the caravan, leaving the broken up ants to wander aimlessly, again, seemingly without pattern or purpose. Today, I am that ant, wandering around Damascus, searching for purpose and understanding.

The past couple weeks have been quite challenging as many of you following my journey know by now. It's been at least several times that I've thought about leaving the trail, even more often lately. But then I read your emails and comments to my blogs, see the photos that my wife Sally has posted and see pictures and maps of the route that lies ahead and something, manages to keep me on the trail.

My thoughts of leaving of late have so troubled me that I have not been sleeping well. I have not had access to a computer to pen my thoughts, which is often one of my outlets, so it's ironic that the technology I have tried to escape, has been of the things to give me solace in my time of need.

Today, in the Damascus library, surrounded by local patrons and other computer users, I cried for about oh, an hour, reading the emails of encouragement and postive things you folks have written. I tried to hide it as one does in therapy trying to keep the therapist from seeing his inner feelings, but it did not work. The locals here glanced at me from time to time thinking, I'm sure, "what the heck is wrong with that poor fella?" But my tears are part of my cleansing...part of what I came up here in the mountains for and so I welcome them. I just wish the locals weren't here to witness my incessant weeping.

When I leave here, I will step out onto Laurel Ave., the local main street and wander like an ant some more, trying to find my way back to my journey. I may take a week off the trail to heal my feet, though. Despite being behind, my body is telling me to take it easy. In the words of the most experienced hikers I've met so far, "Listen to your body" seems to be the most sage advice on the trail.

Ron