Justin, Conor, and Gary

We get up early after my collapse from the night before after blogging past midnight. (Can anyone call 1 to 6 AM an adequate night’s sleep?) We rendezvous with Justin and step lively to be sure to arrive on time. During the subway ride to Jamaica Pond, I try to compose in my head my 10-minute speech before the walk starts, but activities on the T distract me, and I can’t compose even one logical sentence. Since I’m last on the program, maybe everything important will have already been said and I can just summarize.

Jennifer and Judy

When we arrive at Jamaica Pond along with about 200 others, including many family members and friends, we can see that the Foundation staff has the walk logistics well organized for ceremonies to begin at 9:30. Still no speech in my head, because every time I turn around, someone stops me to talks. Oh well. I’ll just have to wing it. Dr. Jeff Szymanski, Executive Director of IOCDF, opens the program, followed by Dr. Sabine Wilheim, Director of the OCD and Related Disorder Program at MGH, and then Dr. Katharine Phillips from the Rhode Island Hospital BDD Program. By the time it’s my turn, the crowd has learned a good deal about OCD and Related Disorders, especially about Nathaniel’s nemesis, BDD. Good. These professionals know brain disorders inside out and share candidly about their devastating impact on families.

That’s me speaking, just above the banner

Several minutes before I am to speak, the wind picks up, letting us know that the tropical storm is over and that the walk will be spared. Perfect. Prior predictions had not been so favorable. On, no, it’s my turn. I handle the mike uncomfortably, unable to juggle it and my few notes (three sentences on three separate pages). I’m not sure I remember what I said, but it was from the heart and I trusted that the words would flow. 10:00 arrives and it’s time to start walking.

Carrie, her roommate, friends from work, and cousin gear up for the walk

Tremendous energy is generated when many folks gather for a single purpose. As we walk, I use the opportunity to visit and talk with other participants. Signs on the side of the path give poignant descriptions of the various disorders, and a group of us stop in front of the BDD sign. I’m thrilled that at least for this moment in this corner of Boston there is a written proclamation of the disorder that tortured Nathaniel for so many years. We’ve made some progress.

As we process the day’s events later that evening, Judy and I affirm how being together with friends, families, and suffers of OCD and BDD builds a critical sense of community, and breaks the isolation that these disorders cause. One BDD sufferer confided to us at the walk that hearing Katherine Phillips and Sabine Wilhelm talk about BDD removed the personal stigma of the disorder. How huge is that? Sufferers of cancer don’t have to add personal shame or guilt to the trauma of dealing with the disease, but sufferers of brain disorders often do. Collectively, we can and will eradicate that stigma.

Thank you, friends, for following this blog, for contributing many miles and dollars, and for supporting us in this important work.

The Foundation just posted the total to date: nearly $65,000 raised. What a stunning accomplishment!

A moment of rest on Boston Commons the day after the walk. Mission accomplished.

Robert Hordan, my host on Capitol Hill, and I rise early and do the hearty breakfast thing. He thinks I’m melting away and wants to beef me up. I think I have lost a few pounds–might explain the pants slipping down easily as I walk these days. My dad would have suggested a 2″ nail to fix the problem. No thanks!

I say goodbye to Robert, my last host on the Camino de Nathaniel South. Endings are always a bit sad. Maybe that is why it’s raining today. To finish strong, I do a few more visits on the Senate side–Senators Al Franken (MN), Elizabeth Warren (MA), and Kelly Ayotte (NH). It’s easy for me to compare and contrast the cordiality factor in each office after each stop. Perhaps a professional development workshop on hospitality would do the trick. The welcoming factor varies.

I leave the Senate buildings and head for Union Station. It’s pouring outside and I get thoroughly soaked. I find that walking briskly around the train station achieves two ends–dries me out and adds additional steps to my walk goal. At last count, I have exceeded my original estimate of 380 miles from April 8 to June 8. Put me now down for 455 miles which translates into 910,000 steps.

I lunch with a friend whom I have never met before. Our common bond is that we are both dads and we have both lost sons. That experience alone brings the conversation to a deeper level rather quickly. We talk for an hour and a half, sharing our and ours families’ journeys of grief. I am grateful for the invitation and the gift of a good meal in one of my favorite train stations. Thank you, Steve.

Turning the GPS off for the last time, I hop on to the metro to National Airport where the complexities of modern travel kick in. The metro ticket machine doesn’t like my money and refuses to sell me a ticket. I argue as much as one can with a machine. Not very effective.

The first hurdle resolved, more move in to take its place to challenge my patience. Walking has its limitations, but nothing is as irritating as the ones I face trying to take a flight to Boston for tomorrow’s walk. Inventory of obstacles: Where is my driver’s license? I had it the other day. Why can’t my walking stick travel with me? I’m a pilgrim. Does it count as two pieces of luggage requiring me to pay the additional cost? Checking with Home Land Security about this walking “weapon,” I travel up and down the corridors of National airport increasing my mileage as I go. Today’s total grows to a whopping 13.50 miles.

And then there’s the flight delay. Had I known I had another hour, I would have squeezed in a couple more congressional visits. It looks as if it may be another hour before we depart. David Levinger, Westtown, crosses my path and we talk. We had just met at Karabi’s gathering last Monday evening.

By 4:45 the flight finally takes off, and Boston seems a possibility. The great convergence is Denis from Washington, DC (by plane), Judy from Cheyney, PA (by car), and Carrie from MGH, MA by metro. We plan a reunion at the Italian North End of Boston in our favorite restaurant, Terramia Ristorante, on Salem Street. There is definitely good reason to celebrate. Our accomplishments for the1,000,000+ Steps 4 OCD campaign. All that remains now is the Cake Walk around Jamaica Pond (5K) tomorrow. Do join us if you are in the vicinity!

We are raring to go and cross the finish line of this year’s walking success.

What miracles a good night’s sleep (longer than usual last night) can do to frame the new day. Emily, Kendra and David’s daughter, is not the only early riser today. I joined in too. A Kendra Breakfast Special enhances my already too short stay here in Alexandria. To witness firsthand the thoughtful and loving parenting of this couple gives me hope for the next generation.

Kendra and Otis (their senior citizen dog who loves car rides) drive me to the nearest metro station, Huntington (slightly north of Mt. Vernon). I’m totally psyched about today’s possibilities. What music can we play on the car radio to prepare me psychologically for today’s full schedule of appointments on Capitol Hill? Kendra and I examine the options and finally decide on “Lithium!” That sounds about right given recent activities on the Hill.

Returning to McPherson Station in DC where yesterday’s walk ended, I sit a short while in McPherson Park to recollect myself before proceeding. What will I say? How will I say it? What exactly am I asking my Congressional representatives to do? Why? Nathaniel’s story answers all those questions adequately. All I have to do is be mindful in the telling.

With the White House practically in front of me, I decide to call. The phone directory isn’t very helpful. I finally choose the comments & messages option. After describing to the responder in some detail my walk this spring, the White House wants a more simple version of my comment. Is mental illness ever simple? Was Nathaniel’s? I then ask to speak to a White House staff member. Not possible! Using every Asselin technique of persuasion honed over the last 65 years of my life, I tackle the challenge with fortitude and grace and from every possible angle. I want to talk to a responsible White House Staff member.

My hidden rationale: You took Tom Insel of the NIH away from my Monday afternoon appointment at NIH. Let me stop by to say “Hi,” and we’ll call it even. Mrs. Comments/Messages doesn’t have a category or protocol in place to handle my candid request. After 20 minutes have passed, she decides to hang up on me. What will you tell your boss when I report you to him next week?

Last Monday, the White House had a mental health symposium, but apparently it doesn’t seem interested in learning more about what mental illness might look like in Nathaniel’s compelling story.
Today’s foray into the political arena starts poorly. I better head to the Senate Office Building for my 11:30 with Senator Casey’s (PA) legislative staffers, Sara Mabry and Doug Hartman, followed by a scheduled photo shoot with Senator Casey at 12:30, and then on to Senator Toomey (PA) and Congressman Pat Meehan (PA) in the PM. Looks as if I’ve got a full day of conversations before me.

What brief descriptions would I use for each encounter? Senator Bob Casey’s staff are welcoming, good listeners. The photo shoot with the Senator is genuine and meaningful. In Senator Toomey’s Office, Theo Merkel, the legislative correspondent, gives me a few minutes, but not too long (in and out). The Senator is nowhere to be seen. As for Congressman Meehan, he’s in PA attending his 3rd son’s graduation from The Haverford School, but Senior Legislative Assistant Rachel Cook takes a long time to listen to my story, asks good questions, and visibly shows compassion for both Nathaniel’s and for our difficult journeys. The finale for the day is an unexpected visit to the office of Congresswoman Grace F. Napolitano (CA), a
recommendation from yesterday’s AFSP visit. The congresswoman is back in CA at the moment, but her Sr. Legislative Asisstant/Mental Health Advisor, Ane Romero asks me excellent questions and invites me back for a future visit. Congresswoman Napolitano of California is a committed advocate for mental health. That last visit of the day becomes the cherry on top of today’s Capitol Hill sundae.

Aware of how late it is, I barely beat the rain as I walk the mere three blocks to Robert Hordan’s home, tonight’s host (former high school mate at St. John’s). His Independence Avenue address in the 300 block is the perfect place for me to crash tonight for tomorrow’s final day of advocacy. We happily greet each other, continue the lively conversations as we dine out to a local delicious restaurant, and make plans for tomorrow’s hardy breakfast. I’m grateful for a Capitol Hill “bonne adresse.”

This morning the Grady/Farquhars prepare a robust breakfast for my long day ahead, a good thing because there is no lunch until 4:00 this afternoon. Mary Grady joins me on this segment. Mutually, we decide to head to Catholic University with an interim stop at Rock Creek Cemetery. Obviously, we both have Saint-Gaudens’s statue of Grief on our minds.

Walking along Piney Creek Road is refreshing in the early morning. We are definitely having more fun than the commuters edging their way to offices by car throughout the District. A couple of wrong turns getting to Rock Creek help us appreciate even more the Adams Memorial sculptured by Saint-Gaudens in 1891 in memory of Henry Adam’s wife. What a stunning piece of sculpture.

A moment of silence seems appropriate given the nature of my pilgrimage and its purpose. Then I decide to tuck into the folds of the sculptured veil of the statue the small river rock that Carrie and I took from the Pemigewasset River in Lincoln, NH the weekend before the walk started. In pilgrimage tradition, a walker carries a stone from his place of origin and deposits it along the path when the “right” place moves the walker to do so. Raised in Lincoln, I wanted a stone from the New Hampshire woods. Both Nathaniel and Carrie loved the magic of this small New England town nestled in the White Mountains where their grandparents lived. At my brother Robert’s burial in May, Carrie and I fished the rock out of the local river knowing that Nathaniel would love its unique qualities. It definitely was a Nan Rock. Saint-Gaudens would wholeheartedly approve the choice of its new resting place along the 
Camino de Nathaniel South. I say goodbye to Mary on the Catholic University campus and go to the first of my  two appointments there–The Alumni Center and The Student Counseling Center.

My undergraduate Alma Mater welcomes me graciously. I leave the Alumni Center with a bag of gifts. More weight for the backpack? I then hurry to the Counseling Center where Monroe Rayburn greets me for our noon meeting. I talk about Nathaniel and he talks about counseling services at CUA. The 5% BDD rate among college students is sobering. If the number is accurate, then we have lots of work to do on campuses to raise consciousness.

Upon exiting the center, I hear the 1:00 chimes from the Basilica tower. Time to meet cousins Anna and Cindy in front of its grand entrance. Together we head downtown to the AFSP headquarter (American Foundation for Suicide Prevention). Twice today I am accompanied to my destinations. How sweet!

With cousin Anna

At AFSP, I meet Nicole Gibson, State Advocacy and Grassroots Outreach. She and I talk about our calling to advocacy, both motivated by a huge personal loss in our lives. I wish Carrie could spend an hour with her  sharing the heartbreak of losing a sibling through suicide. Nicole knows how that feels. She shows me a picture of her brother, and I reciprocate with one of Nathaniel. Both young men deserved to live full lives.

At 4:00 I eat lunch or “First Dinner” at Au Bon Pain. Temporarily refueled, I turn off the GPS and hop on my first public transportation ride in weeks, the DC Metro (Yellow Line) to Alexandria where my niece Kendra and her husband David (and daughter Emily) will feed and house me. “Second Dinner” includes a delicious mixed green salad and a Whole Foods vegetarian pizza, my first in weeks. Hits the spot.

Tomorrow I go to Capitol Hill to tell Nathaniel’s story. It feels like the end is approaching too fast. I want to savor and relish each moment during the two remaining days. But first of all, I need to get some sleep if I’m to be coherent among our elected representatives. Or maybe coherence is no longer a requirement in politics. I’ll see.

By 7:45 I’m out the front door saying goodbyes again to a host family that has gone out of its way to welcome us. I now firmly believe that great students of the past become even greater adults in the present. I march south toward The National Cathedral where a former Shipley student, now adult, Elizabeth Maddock Eastwick, welcomes me to this amazing religious structure on the highest point in Washington. We visit the Bishop’s Garden and then head inside for a quick tour before opening hours. I feel quite special. Elizabeth holds in her snuggly her youngest child of two, Brooks. What a cutie!

Totally aware that Sidwell Friends is not that far away, we chat casually as we walk together. We get to observe a maypole dance in the church’s sanctuary by students from the Beauvoir Elementary School. This will be part of a graduation ceremony within a few days.

A forced march north on Wisconsin Avenue brings me to Sidwell Friends School, the fourth and last school on my spring tour. The counseling team, Dr. Parker and Ms. Grebsky, take time out of their schedule to talk about mental illness issues at the school and how the school’s support systems work. Based on our conversation, I can see that Sidwell tries hard to respond effectively to student mental issues. In the spirit of my walk, we explore other possible best practices to widen the web of support.

By 11:00 I’m descending Wisconsin (all downhill) toward Georgetown to cross the Potomac River on the Key Bridge into VA. I no sooner enter DC this morning than already I’m exiting the Capital for VA for my 2:00 appointment at NAMI’s (National Alliance for Mental Illness) headquarters in Arlington. I’m already getting a feeling that today’s mile tally with be significant. No surprise there. Every stage of this year’s pilgrimage has overshot my original estimates.

NAMI’s offices cover three different floors, each section focusing on a different aspect of the organization’s overall mission. I meet with Darcy Gruttadaro in policy. Both of us affirm the incredible importance of spreading awareness.

Now comes the hard part–the trek back up Wisconsin Avenue to tonight’s host family, Tom Farquhar and Mary Grady. I meet Andre, a young man on the sidewalk trying to solicit monthly contributions to Planned Parenthood. I politely decline, but he asks good questions about my project. I’m grateful to tell him Nathaniel’s story.

Now it’s all back uphill from Georgetown to Porter Street. No wonder this morning I made such good time. My hosts, Tom and Mary, welcome me in to their lovely home. They are such dear friends. Their son, Drew, and our Nathaniel spent hours playing together back at Westtown years ago. Strong bonds of friendship can endure geographical separation.

To crown off a perfect spring day in DC, I meet Mike Spigler, former Programs Director at IOCDF, for a Thai dinner on Connecticut Avenue, a half mile away from Porter Street where I’m spending the night. We eat good food; catch up on family news, and share stories of our most recent activities–mine walking the Camino de Nathaniel and his doing a brand new job in a non-profit organization that focuses on food allergies. Lucky them to inherit a dedicated, able organizer.

It’s late and time to close shop. Tomorrow’s activities will be equally demanding. Better get rest now!

Walking with a raincoat on is like wearing a sauna, and I hardly need to lose any weight at this point. I make it to BTC (Behavioral Treatment Center) of Greater Washington. The Center’s founder, Dr. Charley Mansuetto, greets me. Shannon Shy and Carter Waddell, both IOCDF Board members, join us as well as others who practice there. Reinforced with “second breakfast,” OCD Mid-Atlantic tee-shirts, and a team of fellow walkers including Dr. Mansuetto, Shannon, David, Kate, and Brad, we start the 8-mile trek to NIMH (National Institute of Mental Health).

It’s not raining, but it is hot and humid. I love the company, but I’m not too sure my companions love the walk. (I do this daily. They do not.)

Once cleared through NIH’s security, our group finds Building 10 where Dr. Judith Rapaport welcomes us. She apologies for the NIH Director Thomas Insel’s absence from our gathering. Apparently, he was called at the
last minute to the Oval Office by President Obama for a summit on mental health issues. (OK, that is a good excuse.) At the exact moment I am visiting with Judith Rapaport, the president speaks to the press: “We whisper about mental health issues and avoid asking too many questions. The brain is a body part, too. We just know less about it. And there should be no shame in discussing or seeking help for treatable illnesses that affect too many people that we love. We’ve got to get rid of that embarrassment. We’ve got to get rid of that stigma.” (The synchronicity of my pilgrimage’s purpose with his message is startling. Perhaps he has been reading my blog!)

Being in the presence of Dr. Rapaport is pure delight. She is a pioneer in OCD research and treatment, and how grateful we are to enjoy her wisdom and company. The hour passes by too quickly.

After goodbyes to my walking companions, I head to Chevy Chase where Westtown host Karabi (Bhattacharyya) Acharya and her husband, Malay, welcome me along with a group of Westonians who live in the DC area: Meg Greene, Dan Sanders, Tina Hoffman Warwick, Scott Roby and Tacy Paul, David Levinger, Steve Sawyer, and Andrea Littell. What a lovely group of individuals to spend several hours with! The depth of our connections has not diminished over the years since we last saw each other when I was their teacher. The Westtown bond is eternal. Thank you for coming, Westonians. (Photos of the gathering to be posted later.)

The day ends with good food, good company, good fellowship, and Judy, who joins us at the Acharya’s home after having spent the day on Capitol Hill attending the Green Ribbon School Award Ceremony and accepting a beautiful plaque for Westtown School’s sustainability efforts. What full, rich days we have both had, and what warm hospitality we receive from Karabi and Malay, who pamper us with all kinds of delectable food, deluxe accommodations, and superb company.

At break of Meeting, I introduce myself and explain my journey. Rich Engler, a Westonian of the 80s, attends so that we can reconnect–a fine student who now has become a fine young man with family and a child in the Sandy Spring Lower School.

The four of us, Toni, Bruce, Rich, and I, set off together. We cross the Meeting House grounds, enter the Friends Home campus, move on to the school campus, and finish with the infamous ropes course kingdom in the woods, The Adventure Park. I think I’m entering Ewok Country. What an amazing setting!

Goodbyes are harder when the time together has been exceptionally rich, and it has been. Route memorization today is simple–Route 182 followed by Georgia Avenue South straight to tonight’s hosts, Ann and Richard Fieldhouse.

At the junction of 182 and Georgia Avenue, Harry Hines, high school class of 1966 at St. John’s, and I meet. A little quick Subway stop refuels my empty tank, and off we go together. It may not be in the 90s today, but the air is nevertheless noticeably heavy. (I remember this humidity from my 1967-1971 chapter in Washington when I was an undergraduate. Now I remember why I moved north to PA.)

Reminiscences from our St. John’s Days flow easily. Harry and I are only recently reconnected, so the 45 years of separation provides us with many stories to catch up on. Harry is wearing his “Walking with Nathaniel” hat proudly, a gift I offered him last June at our reunion. He empathizes with Nathaniel’s struggles and wants to learn more. I share freely.

We part company after traversing the I-495 Capital Beltway, a tangible sign that the greatest distance of my pilgrimage is over, but a week of many meetings in DC with walking times between them is about to begin.

May my experience in kyros time both on the Camino and in Meeting today guide my conversations this week in Washington. May I speak from a centered and grounded place, letting each word that emerges testify eloquently to the integrity of Nathaniel’s life and suffering.

Luckily I make it in time to today’s destination to watch a rain storm arrive with force as I sit in the dry safety of  my new hosts’ home. How sweet it is to be indoors!

Today is an unconditional gift—no walking! I bathe in the freedom from movement and no requirements. Toni and Bruce sense my deep appreciation of the gifts I now enjoy. I sit outside their lovely home, on a wooden bench under a shade tree, watching the puffy white clouds float by as I remain perfectly still. This must be heaven.

Camino de Nathaniel South Office Hours are flexible today. (Happily, the office was closed during the middle of last night). I am now answering e-mails, writing and sending a few more, confirming appointments for next week, sending out appeals for contributions, and staring at the Google map of tomorrow’s route.

In the stillness of the outdoor space of Evans’ home, I remember several events of the past week that never made it into my blogs. As our dear friend, Hugh Cronister, used to say, “Welcome the limitations.” I agree. Given the high mileage and unrelenting heat, I couldn’t adequately write about all the events of each day.

So here goes. Did I mention…

• The two senior ladies in the Catonsville, MD McDonald’s (no, I wasn’t buying anything there) who offered me $25 for my cause after hearing what I was doing? Their generosity was extremely sincere and touching.
• How about the town of Catonsville itself where, back in 1968, Daniel Berrigan and his brother, Phillip, both members of religious communities, founded an interfaith coalition against the Vietnam war and burned 378 draft files in the parking lot of the town’s draft board in a non-violent protest? They were my heroes in college. That act took immense conviction and courage. I am honored and blessed to be passing through this sacred space.
• Or Mike, the clerk at the other 7 Eleven on Thursday, who rang up my picnic items earlier in the day, and several hours later crossed paths with me again on the sidewalks of another town? I had to give him a WWN card for showing up twice in one day.
• Did I tell you about Jack Samuels at Johns Hopkins who listened attentively to Nathaniel’s story during my visit with Dr. Nestadt and company and then walked with me through the many long corridors of the hospital buildings and accompanied me for several blocks on Orleans Street as I left the city of Baltimore? During that short time together, we established a deep bond.
• Have I sufficiently thanked my host families to date for their gracious hospitality? Angela Blaschke & David Francis, Peter & Lorraine Doo, Bill & Gena O’Keefe, and Toni & Bruce Evans? And then there are the future hosts lined up for next week: Karabi Acharya, Ann and Richard Fieldhouse, Tom Farquhar and Mary Grady, Kendra and David Mehring, and Robert Hordan. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
• What about the unexpected dinner invitations from Mike Spigler and Steve Hilbert in DC next week?
• And have I described in enough grueling detail the insufferable heat, the intense traffic, and the dangerous roads to warrant your empathy? Remember it may say a certain degree on your thermometer, but the late afternoon pavement effect produces a “Bikrim Pilgrimage,” a sustainable alternative to the new yoga variety. Namaste!

There are more stories to share, but I’ll stop now. Instead I’ll finish today’s Camino Office hours early and enjoy the clouds passing by before it’s my turn to move at the same speed as they do tomorrow.

In consideration of my 2:00 appointment at Sandy Spring Friends School, I head out bright and early by 6:30. A seven-hour cushion of time for a 20+ mile walk sounds right to me. The Bob Evans restaurant is open for early breakfast risers and I’m sit-down customer number one. My waiter, Evan (no relation to the owner of the chain) sees to it that I eat a hearty breakfast.

Today’s walk features a long stint on Route 108, due southwest of Ellicott City to Sandy Spring. The first half of the route includes sidewalks with plenty of morning commute traffic. Cars are either going to Baltimore or to Washington. However, part 2 of the walk is completely sidewalk-less, just barely a foot-wide shoulder that occasionally completely disappears. I must pay attention or be killed. It quickly becomes exhausting to pin oneself against the bushes on the side–plunging unavoidably into patches of poison ivy–whenever a flock of cars passes. Drivers, meanwhile, are texting, talking on cell phones, or staring blankly into the windshield, and despite my awkward posture of self-preservation against the wall of green, not one single car slows down. One lady even wags her finger at me as she speeds forward in her oversized vehicle. Excuse me!

The recurring thought I have all morning is, What do you think you are doing, Asselin, walking from Cheyney to Washington? I love existential questions on the purpose and meaning of life while skirting disaster on Route 108.

Last spring I asked the same question during my endless trek across Northern Long Island. I think I even blogged about it, referring to the experience as crossing the sea of doubts (at Orient Point). This year, I’m facing the same psychological dilemma–a desert of doubts–even though I’m surrounded by green woods and fields. Why desert? Because I’m thirsty, parched, and it’s damn hot (in the 90s today).

I’m thrilled that my existential crisis is happening now–always about 2/3 of the way. During a rest stop for liquids, I call the International OCD Foundation to see if the staff has any good answers to my question about my identity and vocation as a walker. Jeff Smith, the Director Development, tells me it would take a long time to answer my question. He suggests instead that I hydrate and proceed with caution. Oh, I get it. I’m asking the BIG question, and that one never has a simple answer, or even one.

Ok, I’ll move on, but it’s kinda lonely out here on the thin road with 90-degree temperatures, so I’ll hope for small signs from the universe that this whole ordeal is rightly led. Perhaps a thumbs up on Facebook, or a “that a boy” text message, or a small contribution of support (which produces a lovely “bing” on my iPhone).

Just as I’m about to give up, the Sandy Spring town sign appears around the corner.
A 7- Eleven store clerk gives me permission to use the employee bathroom even though this is strictly against store policy. Thanks, Will, for breaking the rules after you hear about my journey.

I arrive at Sandy Spring Friends School, happy to get out of the heat and into an air-conditioned building. Tom G, the Head, counselors and the school nurse join me in his office. We talk about brain disorders, about Nathaniel and his BDD, my walk, and how this school responds and can respond to issues of mental illness among its students. All of us–educators, the 7-Eleven clerk, pilgrims–need to trust that what we are doing is what needs to be done. I’m inspired by the Sandy Spring School motto–”Let your lives speak.” Got it. Thanks for the reminder.

Now a two-night stay awaits me at Toni and Bruce Evans, the final pause before the big push on Sunday to Washington, DC.

Today’s challenges are straightforward:

1. Stay sufficiently hydrated in temperatures in the 90s and pay close attention to the body’s overall performance in the heat.

2. Avoid too many detours–today’s route already promises to be in the 20-mile range.

3. Be on time for the appointment with Drs. G. Nestadt, J. Bienvenu and OCD and Anxiety Disorder team at Johns Hopkins Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences.

4. Find a safe route to exit Baltimore on foot and be careful when traversing iffy neighborhoods to the west of downtown.

5. Think about why some parts of the city are safe and flourishing, while others aren’t

6. Even after a long morning appointment, cover the remaining miles quickly.

7. Consider a final destination beyond Ellicott City but before Columbia, MD. Since Friday’s destination is Sandy Spring for a 2:00 appointment, keep today’s mileage within a reasonable range.

8. Stop frequently at stores and fast food joints to escape from the intense heat before setting out again.

9. Have a Seven Eleven picnic lunch under the shade of a large tree across the way. If Mike, the sales clerk, pops up several hours later on the path further southwest, greet him warmly and explain to him what you are doing.

10. If an old trolley line trail appears, get off the main road and take it. It will definitely be cooler in the surrounding woods.

11. In Ellicott City, stop to rest for a bit before forging ahead to the final destination. Keep today’s miles under 22.

12. Find a reasonable hotel that isn’t too pricey and closer to Sandy Spring to make tomorrow’s walk more reasonable.

13. Have dinner in a restaurant close to the hotel so that the day can end early.

14. Take a warm bath to soothe sore muscles and revive the spirit.

15. Be in bed before 11:00, having blogged, answered emails, check tomorrow’s route, and done some laundry in the hotel room sink.

16. Keep today’s blog short and sweet and send it with photos to Judy before 10:30.

P.S. All of the above challenges/suggestions were successfully met today, so I end the day by simply saying thank you, dear friends, and good night.