“I love to go a-wandering”
My apologies to Buddha, but today I’m going to quit the present and recount yesterday. A 27-mile walk can have lots of different chapters to it, and yesterday’s adventure took no exception. Kat Yeh dropped me off in East Norwich (where she picked me up the afternoon before). I was rested, well-fed, and quite fortified. We parted company with my promising her to call if my only sleep option that night was a “Phillipsburg Inn/Ralph King Size” accommodations.
What a beautiful day it was with no rain in sight. Being thoroughly dry can give a wanderer a whole new perspective. Up and down and around the hills and coves of the North Shore I walked. I saw breath-taking landscape and loving folks on the path. Connie and Shawn at The Gourmet Whaler provided me with an excellent cup of coffee and a small-town, charming cafe ambiance to complement the already picturesque. Further down Route 25A, gentlemen in a fishing store marveled at my journey. “Good luck!” they said. A woman I met in Kings Port had no hotel suggestions but she did share with me her son’s mental struggles. It became quickly apparent that if I wanted a bed for the night, I would have to leave the scenic route and get closer to the Long Island Expressway. Ugh! With my mileage meter slowly expiring, there still were no hotels in sight. Every time I asked for help, suggestions were “car-distance” based. “But I’m walking!” I reminded them. I almost gave up when I heard in the far distance a childhood melody. It got louder as the source came closer. “Val da ree, Val da rah, Val da ree, Val da rah, ha ha ha ha ha… My knapsack on my back.” The ice cream truck sped by playing repeatedly the “I love to go a-wandering” tune–the very one Lisa Hart (Westtown alumna/Shipley parent) had e-mailed me about a week earlier. Encouragement? I just laughed aloud and kept moving despite the aches and pains.
Billie in The Tile Store on Routes 25/25A offered me an orange, bathroom privileges, Internet Hotel Search on her computer, and even a free taxi ride (if I wanted). I politely but hesitantly declined–only 3.8 miles. It’s not time to succumb (even if she promised me she would not tell).
By 27.5 miles, I was sufficiently damaged, but America’s Best Value Inn (thankfully not dilapidated) appeared before me after nine hours of walking. Time to stop and flop. A late dinner at Carrabba’s in Smithtown revived my spirits, and the waitress Liz and manager Eric offered the meal on the house. Did I look that compromised?
But the miracle of a goodnight sleep always happens. Next day (today), I’m raring to go again, and I do, but this time for only 13 miles to the Marriott Fairfield Inn in Medford. I’m taking no chances. On the way, Dawn, pulling a grocery cart behind her in the town of Ronkonkoma, wishes me god’s blessing. I take it. Sidewalks all the way today–encouragement? it never gets any better than this for a wanderer.
By the way, I crossed the 300-mile marker today. Feeling quite present once again.
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