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.

Flexibility!

The day begins with embracing imperfection once again. In short, I mixed up the Baltimore appointments. I thought today was John Hopkins, but it’s tomorrow morning. How to fill the now empty day?

I leave the O’Keefe family grateful for their hospitality. I gobble up breakfast (my newly preferred consumption pattern) and head to York Avenue. An Emerson quote on a Panera’s window banner announces today’s walking intention. “Do not go where the path leads. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.” Good advice.

Perhaps the shift in plans will lead me to unexpected encounters. It does. Once again I leave my iPhone power cord behind the locked doors of my host family’s home. It’s my umbilical chord to technology and I need it. Drat! I begrudgingly head to the Verizon store on the avenue. I hate to buy another one (the third one in two years), but the unexpected purchase allows me to talk about Nathaniel and BDD to two unoccupied sales people. Sweet! My daily goal for such spontaneous conversations is five. With one simple $31.79 purchase, I’m down to three more to go.

On Bellona Avenue I rediscover the library I saw the evening before. Opening time is 10:00 and it’s now 9:45. Perfect. Why not wait and talk to the librarians? Miss Gloria and Poonam (to whom I had talked the day before) want to know who Nathaniel is and what I am doing. I oblige. That now makes three and only two more to go. (I can’t count Poonam today. She was part of yesterday’s tally. I’m being honest.)

Slowly I make my way to Downtown Baltimore, tonight’s rest stop before tomorrow’s appointment at John Hopkins and my walk to Ellicott City, southwest of Baltimore. Hotel.com finds me a bargain on East Baltimore Street near Inner Harbor, and a 40% discount too. But before getting there, I eat a huge tuna salad sandwich at Potbelly Sandwich Shop. Server Marlo gives me a free bottle of water as a farewell gift — another conversation accomplished.

After the last mile stretch of Charles Street before Baltimore Street, I am clearly in Downtown Baltimore. Two young women advocating for Human Rights (LGBT equality) sense a tired pilgrim with his defenses down. They approach, and I listen patiently to the story of their advocacy, but decide not to sign up for the monthly contribution plan they suggest. Instead I see an opportunity before me. Yes, I earn two more Walking with Nathaniel points. I’m now over my daily goal by one.

When I reach my destination at Hotel Lord Baltimore, I’m losing steam. It’s in the 90s today and I’ve walked well over 10 miles. Lisa and Tonya at the welcome desk sense a story in me, and I don’t disappoint. Tonya’s empathy is well-honed, and her eyes tear up when she hears about Nathaniel’s journey and mine. I leave them my pilgrim card, happy now to have surpassed today’s goal by three.

A soak in the bathtub works miracles, so much so that I head to the Inner Harbor a few blocks away. I remember being here at the aquarium with Judy, Nathaniel, and Carrie over twenty-two years ago. I remember vividly holding baby Carrie in my arms as we were staring at a fish tank. Next to us stood a small African American boy with soft wooly hair, equally intent on the fish. His beautiful hair must have reminded Carrie of her beloved lamby, so she reached out, and started stroking his head while sucking her thumb — her favorite comfort mode. The very polite, yet confused little boy sank further and further down, trying to get out of the reach of that persistent little hand. That image will remain forever in my mind.

Day 9 ends with tapas and a cold Stella Artois while overlooking the harbor. I relish both the
view and the refreshments with a great sense of accomplishment: having walked over  125 miles, I have earned “Camino seniority.” The mileage makes it easier to start up conversations with strangers, and perhaps will inspire more contributions to the cause.

Today’s Activities in a Nutshell

* Ate a quick breakfast with host, Peter Doo–an excellent start to the day.

* Took a long stroll south on N. Charles Street (4 miles) to my first appointment at Friends School of Baltimore.

* Engaged in a full-morning program at Friends–met the Head, Matt Micciche, toured the school with Greta Rutstein (Director of Academics) and Felicia Wilks (Director of Diversity), and conversed with school counselors and nurse, Mary Ann Niclas, Laurie May, Jessica Monterastelli, Barbara Buck, and Lynne Anonye.

vegetable garden at Friends School Baltimore

* Marveled at the incredibly warm hospitality of this Quaker school.

* Walked back up to Towson (another 4 miles) to Towson University for an appointment with Dr. Greg Chasson, Department of Psychology professor engaged in clinical research in OCD/Autism, studying the overlap between these two families of conditions.

* Introduced to several aspiring graduate students doing clinical research at Towson under Dr. Chasson’s supervision. If they represent the next generation of researchers, then there is great hope for breakthroughs.

* Ate a very late lunch at a Panera’s on York Avenue (still had credit on gift card donation from last year). Sat quietly for an hour in the restaurant gathering my thoughts and reflecting on today’s incredible conversations.

* Walked an outdoor Santa Rosa labyrinth that unexpectedly appeared on my walking route. The circular path of the labyrinth closely resembled the circularity of the path I walked today on the Baltimore sidewalks.

* Met my third host family, Bill, Gena, and Sam O’Keefe, friends of Jon and Melissa Graf Evans from Baltimore and Catholic Relief Services days. What gracious hosts!

* Enjoyed an amazingly delicious vegetarian meal at the O’Keefe’s with many good conversations as we gobbled it down. 5 stars!

* Went to bed early to relax, recoup, and recalibrate body, mind, and spirit.

Good Night!

I leave at 7:00 a.m. to have enough time to walk today’s formidable distance. Since it’s a holiday (Memorial Day), traffic warms up later than usual, so I take advantage of the empty road. The steady rhythm of my walking pace allows my mind to wander in many directions. I pass a quiet cemetery to my right and am struck by the monuments–testimonies to those who have died.   

Soon a query emerges in my mind–who is your Nathaniel on this Memorial Day? Last spring, the International OCD Foundation asked this question for its successful spring fundraiser. We all know individuals who have lost their lives in their struggles against mental illness.

Although Nathaniel never served in the armed forces, he certainly fought many difficult battles against his enemies during the 13 years of his illness–the accumulation of which, in my opinion, easily equals a major war. He fought valiantly. Yet despite all his clever maneuvers and his occasional victories, the enemy eventually wore him down and won.

For me, Memorial Day should honor all the individuals who have fought for mental equilibrium and health, often against overwhelming odds. How can we forget these exemplary fighters? Do they not also deserve equal public recognition? Is there not a special flag to display for them? How about a grand parade to publicly recognize their exceptional heroism?

I pass an historic marker that describes the history of Joppa Road. I take time to read it. I’m nearing the end of today’s 22-mile journey and will finally reach today’s destination– chez my second host family on this Camino, Lorraine and Peter Doo (Judy’s Westtown School classmate) in Towson, located north of Baltimore. I’m eager to enjoy the generous hospitality of friends, a sharp contrast to the bland welcome of the hotel chain.

I end the day filled to the brim with thanksgiving and deep admiration for our Fighting Nathaniel, the ultimate soldier and combatant.  He unquestionably deserves the Congressional Metal of Honor and a 21-gun salute on this Memorial Day.