I think that growing up in rural Texas instilled in me an acute sense of the joys of random exploration. As a kid, I didn’t pay much attention to fences or property ownership, and most farmers and ranchers didn’t care if I wandered across their land as long as I wasn’t hunting or pestering the livestock.
Along the way, books such as Travels With Charley by John Steinbeck, A Walk Across America by Peter Jenkins, The Man Who Walked Through Time by Colin Fletcher, and As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning by Laurie Lee all nurtured in me the awareness that one could actually see more by slowing down, preferably to a walking pace and off the beaten path.
My long-distance walking resume is modest, but I have had the opportunity to walk the Pembrokeshire Coast in Wales, the Camino Portugues in Portugal and Spain, the West Highland Way in Scotland, the Cotswold Way in England, and a stage of the Camino de St. Jacques in France. All were unforgettable experiences that fundamentally changed the way I saw the world.
Becca, my longsuffering wife, is a great walker, and she has joined me on some long walks, but she was less enthusiastic about a walk of over a thousand miles with a full pack. I get it. I’m incredibly grateful, though, for her support in encouraging me to make this pilgrimage.
