Day 4, Monday
April 4, 2005 

Up early and once again reorganizing my stuff. I will carry my regular backpack (Gregory) today instead of my day pack (Kelty). The Gregory is more comfortable for the long haul. Yesterday was easy on my feet. Blisters were aggravated some but my feet feel pretty good this morning. I’m only scheduled for 10 miles today but if all goes well, I will go farther. I would like to reduce my Wednesday walk so that I am not exhausted when I speak to the AFC at College Station. I’m leaving some of my stuff at the Bennett’s house and my wife will pick it up later and bring it out to my next overnight stop. Mike transports me back to the McDonalds and I rig my sign, load my pack and head northwest on Washington. I cross I-10 and before long, I’m faced with another decision - left or right. I’m wanting to take the old Hempstead Highway but there are no signs. Looking around, I see a construction trailer with lights on so I head over there to verify which direction to go. Inside the trailer, there is one young man who first tells me to go left, then changes his mind and says, “right.” Am I any better off now than before? I decide to trust his second response. Off we go having no idea what danger lies ahead.

Passing under the overpass of the exchange, the road continued down below grade to a pass under a railroad overpass. I have had Walker on a leash nearly 100% of the time through Houston. He does not get far from me and responds very well to commands such as “Right,” “Left,” “Front,” Close,” “Sit,” “Down,” and “Off.” But he does get spooked by sudden, loud, and unfamiliar sounds and sometimes he bolts. I don’t want him to be able to run out into traffic if he gets spooked. It’s dark, traffic is heavy and moving fast. It appears that there is no way past the railroad tracks above except via the underpass - and there is no sidewalk and no shoulder. Cautiously and on the curb we head down. The shoulder is overgrown, steeply sloped and nearly impossible to walk on. I am straddling the curb and Walker is behind me. A cement truck rounds the curve at the bottom and heads our way. He’s in the right lane and can’t move over. We can’t move either. He’s bearing down on us with only inches of clearance. Just as he passes, he hits a bump and the noise spooks Walker. More vehicles are right behind him. Walker jumps into the street because he can’t run left. I jerk the leash to bring him back to just barely avoid another passing vehicle. This time he bolts left into the weeds and pulls me off balance. I step hard right to keep from falling and my foot comes down on his front paw. He lets out a yelp and retreats hard left again with a noticeable limp. Have I injured him? Will we have to stop? I can’t get him out this underpass easily if he can’t walk. We stop and regather ourselves. He seems to be OK. The shoulder soon gives way to a vertical retaining wall. We will have to walk as close as we can in the right lane for several hundred feet and hope and pray that traffic will let up until we can get through. These things you just can’t always tell from a map. I had no alternate route because I did not know I would need it. Backtracking to find another way could cost a half-hour or more.

So, we press on. Traffic is lighter and seems to be coming only one vehicle at a time which allows the right lane to move left to accommodate us. Adding to the danger is the fact the road curves to the right ahead of us so that cars coming at us cannot see us from a safe distance. We move quickly and my focus is on the point where we again have a shoulder for refuge, overgrown or not. Fortunately, all the drivers are paying attention and soon we are out of danger. I see a man ahead and ask if indeed this is the old Hempstead Highway. He confirms it. What a relief. I would not want to face that kind of danger only to find out I should have gone left instead.

The old Hempstead Highway is basically a straight shot out of Houston for many, many miles. We were scheduled to pass I-610 and end our day at Loop 8 and Senate St. We past I-610 rather quickly, and look, another Mall. I must have passed at least seven or eight malls already. Houston must be the Mall capital of the world. Somewhere along the way a lady in an SUV pulled over to the shoulder, rolled down the passenger window and offered me a $20 bill. I explained that I was not homeless but that I was raising money to help homeless teenagers in Denver. She insisted that I take the money. I wish I had given her a business card so she would know how to follow along on the website. We had made a mistake when we made the sign I carry. It should have said “walking to Denver.com” instead of just “walking to Denver.” I will try to fix this tonight.

One of my concerns about the trip has always been dogs or other predatory animals. So far, all the dogs we had met had been fenced, chained, or simply not interested enough to pursue us. That was about to change. The Hempstead Highway is four lanes wide and heavily trafficked. We always walk against traffic so that if someone is going to hit us, at least we’ll be able to see it coming and hopefully have time for a quick prayer. On our side of the road, there is a railroad track and no businesses at all fronting the highway. The other side is lined with businesses. Somebody on the other side has two big dogs - one looked like mostly lab, the other like mostly pit bull but big. Both at least as big as Walker and both bounded across the highway through a break in traffic barking and appearing to be agitated and aggressive. Walker is always curious and playful around other dogs. But this did not seem like a playful situation. “Off!” I yelled, and again. Walker would briefly break his attention and follow me but was soon fully focused on the approaching hounds. “Off!” I repeated time and again. I was turning around and walking backward and simply trying to keep moving and give a clear message to our pursuers that we were no threat. Strangely, although they had aggressively and recklessly crossed the highway to investigate us, they now seemed somewhat cautious. My hiking poles were secure to my pack and I would not be able to use them for defense without removing the pack and taking several seconds in a vulnerable position to remove them and arm myself. Looking down, right at my feet, was about a 30 inch section of what appeared to be a shovel or hoe handle - new and solid. I picked it up. This would do nicely for protection - if it became necessary. I was in no way wanting to be forced to defend either myself or Walker. The marauders now seemed to be losing interest. It was almost as if they were hoping we would aggressively defend ourselves so there could be a fight but if not, it simply would not be any fun. I guess bullies come in all forms.

Walker is still not eating well. I know he’s hungry because he’ll eat almost anything that is people food, but he won’t eat dog food. I skipped breakfast this morning so I stop at a convenience store and get some granola bars and such, some apple juice, and some Ritz Bitz for Walker. We share a snack there - he eats the whole container of Ritz Bitz) and head back out on the road. We’re almost to Loop 8 and its 10 AM. My feet are doing pretty good - considering. Part of that might be the 800 mg. of ibuprofen I took and part of it is probably endorphins. At any rate, I’m feeling good enough that I plan to press on at least another five miles towards Highway 6. Approaching Loop 8 I decide to stop and check the map. Looking at the map, I remembered that Mike Bennett had recommended that I stay on the Hempstead Highway, rather than using 290 because there would be less traffic and it would be safer. He was right and everything turned out to be fine.

Moving on again, we were approaching the merge with 290. It was uneventful for the most part. Soon, my phone rings and its Dennis Jaeger, the youth minister from IMPACT, confirming our lunch date. I tells me about what time he expects to be in my area and I tell him that I will stop under the Highway 6 overpass of Business 290. I arrive there a little ahead of him and talk to my dad on the phone for a bit. Dennis arrives and we have lunch. This is the first time I’ve had an opportunity to visit with him. He tells me about his youth group and we make plans to meet in Colorado when his group is on its way to Wildernerss Trek. “You guys can bring me lunch again on the road between Walsenburg and Cotopaxi.” I hope it can happen. That would be just awesome. If they were coming a week later, I could trek with them as I will arrive in Salida while they are on the mountain. Maybe I’ll be there when they come down.

I had five miles to go and it was about 2 PM. I could be through by 4. My feet still felt pretty good in spite of the blisters. I soon talked with my wife about picking me up. She would be staying with her brother about 10 miles away that night and I would be there, too. I finished up at Spring-Cypress Road and 290 that day. We stopped at Home Depot and got supplies to fix the sign and headed for “home.” Along the way there was a “Jamb-Juice” location and I got a large Mango-a-go-go. Hadn’t had a JJ in about 9 months. It was really good.

The rest of that evening I worked on the sign and answered emails. No time or energy to write journal. I don’t like being more than a day or two behind. Now I am five days behind. You forget things, and the perspective changes with each passing day. Emails are very encouraging. So are phone calls although I must be prudent using my cell phone to preserve the battery between charges. I know there are dozens, probably hundreds, perhaps even thousands of people praying for me - and my feet. These prayers are literally carrying me through. It was almost midnight before I got to sleep and the alarm would be sounding at 4:30 AM. Twenty miles tomorrow will be tough with so little sleep.