August 13, 2013


Jacksonville, Florida is the home of Robbie and Martha Trice. Our path of friendship goes back to 1974, when we hosted their band, The Kinfolk, at the Fountain Coffeehouse, in Gaithersburg, MD. The coffeehouse was located in an upper room over a large, old drug store in the old part of town, and sits just outside of Washington, D.C. When I was a boy, Gaithersburg was "way out" in the county. By the mid seventies it had began to grow and was clearly connected to the Beltway culture. Today, it is totally engulfed in traffic and developed beyond what anyone could have imagined who lived there thirty years ago.

The Fountain was a ministry of the New Testament Church of Gaithersburg. Susan and I became a part of this group shortly after we married. It became the place where I would be mentored and learn what ministry was all about. They hired me to be the director of the coffeehouse and street ministry. I also had a campus ministry and Bible Study at nearby Montgomery College. Being a part of that church was one of the greatest events of my life. We were simply a gathering of people who were crazy about loving God and flowed in the Spirit of what He was doing in those exciting days of the Jesus People Revolution. The Kinfolk were just one of many bands that played there over the years, but they became very near and dear to us as kindred spirits in friendship and passion for God. With time, I moved on to finish college and graduate school, the church changed and eventually closed it's doors, and the Kinfolk dissolved, with it's members scattering into other life callings. Robbie and Martha moved into music ministry and were  pioneers in leading praise and worship in churches and developing the ministry of music in the body of Christ. Martha is a highly trained vocalist and classic pianist, and Robbie a published songwriter, gifted performer, and worship leader. Through the years, however, they have continued to live out their lives with a simple open lifestyle and have an ongoing passion to walk with God.

I was excited as I drove the last miles through Jacksonville to their home. Through the years we have stayed in touch, but it had been over twenty years since we had really sat down and shared our hearts. I also knew that they had come out of the institutional church and were part of seeing God put together a fresh, organic church in their home. I had timed my visit to be there for that gathering, and was eager to see firsthand what that was all about.

My time in Tampa with Bruce and Lina had been refreshing and important. My conversations and fellowship with them had left me with much to ponder. I was ready to see how this second visit would fit into the picture.

From the time I arrived it felt like old times. Most of today was spent catching up on our lives, children, and ministries. I was touched by the intense passion I could sense in both of them for the church that meets in their home. By the end of the day, I have found myself with a stack of new books to read and a great deal to think about. I really can't wait to see what tomorrow brings that will add to this journey.

August 10, 2010

What was originally planned as breakfast ended up being lunch, and the fault was mine. I am the lifetime early riser, the man who can't stay still to "sleep in", even on a quiet day off. This morning I woke up at my normal 5:30 am, spent a few moments in prayer and giving thanks for good friends and a good nights sleep. Since the house was still quiet, I lay my head back on the pillow and tried to stay silent so I wouldn't disturb my hosts. The next thing I knew it was 9:30!

Since we had spent yesterday exploring the Greek community around Tampa Bay, Bruce and Lina picked this morning to help me discover the Cuban culture of the area and sample some of their authentic foods. We ended up eating lunch at a famous place on the main street of Ybar, a Cuban community in the greater Tampa/St. Petersburg area. We feasted on sandwiches made with Cuban bread, supplemented with Stuffed Potatoes (a deep fried mashed potatoes coating that surrounds a mixture of ground meat and spices rolled into a giant ball), and some kind of giant spicy crab cake. We then drove around an area that once was the home for over 200 cigar factories, all producing hand made Cuban cigars. The workers would sit for hours at long tables wrapping and pressing cigars while someone sat in an elevated chair reading out loud to them from a newspaper to keep them awake, focused, and informed. Today the factories are turned into offices and community centers, but the culture and climate of the neighborhoods remain the same.

Today was the day that pulled this part of the trip together. Bruce and I may not have spent a lot of time together over the long years since school, but our bond of respect and friendship has only been strengthened with the passing of years. We spent the afternoon and late into the night driving around Tampa sharing music, memories, and ministry. It was a time for a friend to speak things into my life, and some of those things were difficult to hear. It seems funny that I would need to drive 700 miles south to learn and hear some things that were essential for me to know as Phoenix. Mixed into the frustration of my shattered hike is also the awareness that each event of the summer has been a piece of the whole picture of what this journey is about. The lessons of today could only have come from another minister who had walked the path and earned the right to speak into my life. It involved the difficult challenge of how to handle and dispose of the old ashes we have risen from and how to take the ashes of our past and turn them into the story and testimony of today.

There is one other thing that I need to share. My hike is not over!  I guess I have known that for these last weeks, but wasn't able to face it completely. I knew that I felt unsettled and didn't like to think of ending my journey by the side of the trail sick and exhausted.  It also seemed that the purpose of the hike was not yet completed. I know that I cannot hope to finish the entire trail at this point. In practical terms, my resources may only allow me a short period of time to find that completion. As someone told me; it's about time to shave the beard, buy some clothes, get my head together, and get a job. 

Right now, there doesn't seem to be a job. I believe that's partially because it's not the right time yet. When the journey is ready to end, there will be more direction and provision waiting, I am sure. Until then, I will be spending these next few weeks getting myself back into condition to hike, turning some additional basement treasures into cash, and picking up some extra funds through several short term offers for work I have received. When the temperatures drop with the changing season, I will be ready to hike once again. Somehow I believe that I will still cross the river into Harpers Ferry with my Dad and Highlander right there with me.

(One of the pictures I am posting is of Bruce and I wearing our "Gob Hats". These vintage hats go back to the Vietnam war days and were used for everything, including carrying water. Bruce has kept two of these treasures, and has invested his spare one into my safe keeping as I move on. I am deeply grateful for not only the hat, but the many acts of kindness and love that he and Lina poured out upon me these past few days.)

August 9, 2013

Bruce and I both began attending Bible college mid year. In a small school of under one thousand students, we were instantly thrown together as the "new guys" on campus. We were the same age, were married, had previously attended state universities, and had been out in the working world before returning to follow a spiritual calling to train for the ministry. We very soon discovered that our minds and personalities meshed, and became close friends. Susan and I lived off the edge of the campus in a moble home, while Bruce and His wife, Lina, lived up in the hub of campus buildings in a little cottage that was originally a mail order prefab house, ordered from a Sears catalog!  It became a hang out and study hall away from home for me over the next few years.

Lina drove off campus to work everyday, but was always around in the evenings to add seasoning to our conversations and escapades. She was, and remains, a high energy person who never could be happy unless she was working on a project of some sort. Since none of us had any money, she was a master at decorating on a shoestring income, creating crafts and sewing projects out of almost anything she found, and making you always feel welcome when you showed up at the door to visit.

Over the years, Bruce and Lina have served a number of churches. Lina went to college and graduate school and became a teacher and skilled educator and continues to be a leader in her field in the Florida education system. Bruce went on to earn a string of graduate degrees in theology, education, practical ministries, and history. He also experienced first hand how challenging ministry can be, especially for someone with a giant heart of compassion like his. Some years back, Bruce came within inches of death with an illness directly connected to the high stress issues often connected with the calling of a minister. As he slowly regained life, he has found himself expressing his passion for people and God by teaching in the public schools. Bruce, however, continues to stay positive and carries out the true ministry of encouragement and compassion to those who pass his way.

It was refreshing to spend the day in their company. After sharing breakfast together we all set out on a driving tour of Tampa. I sat in their Honda Element and remembered the days when we buzzed around the back roads of east Tennessee in their spartan Volkswagen Thing! I haven't seen one of those on the road for many years! 

Our tour ended at a bakery where we picked up the best coconut cream pie I have ever tasted. We then dropped Lina back at their home and headed out once again for some guy time.

My day included several firsts. I stepped onto the white sands of the gulf coast and waded into the warm water. We visited a Greek community along the coast, where all the signs and shops were Greek. There I ate my first real Greek food and learned about the sponge industry. Through it all was woven the important sharing of our lives and insights.
The day ended with a bluegrass style band playing at a local music outlet. It was a day to be refreshed and to renew an old friendship. It was also a reminder that there are a lot of phoenix people around us who have risen up from the ashes of physical or spiritual hardships and disappointment to find new life and hope. 

August 8, 2013

Today I am headed south to sunny Tampa, Florida. This trip is not on foot and I've exchanged my backpack for an old Samsonite suitcase. (This one is so old it was actually designed to hold men's suits!) I'm on a road trip of discovery for the next week. My first stop is the home of a friend and school buddy, Bruce McConnohie, and his wife, Lina. We became close friends in the late 70's as we battled together against the foes of Greek grammar, theology, and the meaning of life. Along the way, we also took a stab or two at "the system," and did our best not to be sucked into its conforming mindset. Lina was always the warm loving hostess, and turned their tiny campus cottage into a welcome center for fellowship and interaction. I found myself driving down the highway remembering the simplicity of those days and growing eager to see them once again.
Please don't ask me what is the exact purpose of this trip of discovery. Part of it is to deal with finding answers concerning the future. Part of it is to process and pull together the pieces of the past. A third part is to deal with and process the events of the summer and get clear direction on the weeks ahead.

The past weeks have been strange and different. I have recovered from my encounter with the heat monster and am back outside, taking on the sun and humidity in moderate doses. I have jumped into helping at home and trying to lighten the heavy load Susan has been carrying since April when I left. I have been searching for ways to generate some form of income to deal with our disastrous financial condition.  Along with all of this, I have been searching for the peace and direction needed to close out this experience on the trail.

One great satisfaction is that the Blazing New Trails aspect of the hike has proven successful. The convention went well and the summer of awareness created by the hike has set some things into motion that will make a lasting difference. With that part of the hike behind me, it only leaves my own personal and spiritual pieces to draw together to completion.

My road trip to Florida is a part of forging the future. What better place to start than by diving deep into the distant past with old friends who were with me in the very early days of the journey.  Once again, I have no idea where this trail will end. I just know that it's not over yet. Thanks for joining me for the ride!

July 22, 2013

It 6:45 am on Monday morning, July 22.  On the trail I would be packed up and ready to move north bound.  My eyes would  be quickly looking over my campsite area for any items left unpacked or any traces of trash. Once satisfied that I had left no visible trace, I would be reaching for my treking poles and moving into the day. Others might enjoy coffee and conversation to greet the morning, but I enjoyed silently slipping away up the trail and into the day, listening to the forest as it woke up with me to begin another cycle. After walking and waking, I would look for a nice spot, perhaps with a view, and make breakfast my first rest stop of the day. I would mix Carnation French Vanilla breakfast mix with water for a thin milkshake. (I have to thank Johnny Walker for that tip.) Then I would pull out my map and review the day, setting a few goals and planning ahead for water. Before starting again I would always check my phone for a chance signal to send a message home or attempt an early morning call.  The signal was seldom there. That done, my pack was thrown on once again, and with a prayer of thanks, my journey resumed.

This morning I woke in a comfortable bed in the middle of Virginia.  Instead of birds singing and mosquitos buzzing, I hear the gentle hum of the central air conditioning. It is all so strange and saddens me in ways I cannot express with words. At the same time, my thoughts are mixed with gratitude for the safety I enjoy and my rescue from the heat.

This morning, when I opened my eyes, my first thought was that my mind felt normal and clear again!  I have struggled in a fog like state since Thursday when I was brought in from the sun on the edge of a heat stroke. I have struggled to pay attention in conversations, and spent much of my time laying down and drifting in and out of sleep. Today is my first sense of waking up ready to do something.  With that energy is also the hurt and disappointment that I am not on the trail. I wonder how many days will pass before that ache passes?

What are my plans?  I haven't been in a state of mind to be making any for these past few days.  I believe that today will be one more day of recovery before going anywhere. My friend Roger is talking about getting me home in his car rather than putting me on a bus or public transportation.  I know that even this morning I would not trust myself to focus and drive any distance. With the heat index still over 100 outside, I'm not going anywhere on foot for the next few days. So I continue one day at a time, thankful that I have this day to enjoy.

July 19, 2013


I am writing this today from the home of a close friend who lives along interstate 81, in Virginia. Roger and I have known each other from childhood, and been close friends throughout all the years. Forty years ago I was his best man, and witnessed his marriage to Helen Zenda. I have also known Helen since our childhood days. Over the years Roger and I have worked together, shared a house together, and shared our dreams and plans together.

Yesterday I received help along the road from a trail volunteer who was driving past. He stopped when he saw my pack on the ground and became concerned as we talked. Thankfully, he had a cooler of iced beverages in his truck, and shared a coke and some ice for my head and neck to help cool me down. Roger traveled the highway south, and has brought me here to get out of the heat and assess the situation.

I am having all the symptoms of heat exhaustion. I get extremely weak, blurred vision, headache, and unfocused. In times past, this lasts about four days or so. After that, I begin to feel normal once again. Roger has offered me a quiet place to lay down, a cool house, and plenty of good company. Right now, it is exactly what I need.

Once again, I ask for your prayers.  This has been a roller coaster journey and I am determined to ride it until the end. Down inside, I think that I may have reached that point, although it hurts to think in those terms. I am trying right now to process the whole endeavor, and determine what happens next. My mind is not clear at this point and my emotions are mixed strongly together with my ability to reason.

Right now, I am staying cool and trying to stay positive.

July 18, 2013

Yesterday afternoon's thunderstorm turned out to be only a prelude to the symphony that followed in the night.  Act two was Thunderous Magnifico, follow by a grand finale, Rainfalliness Overpowerimisino!!!  In other words, the thunder and lightning was incredible, followed by hard pounding rain. My tent has been sealed for rain and stays dry under normal conditions, but nothing could keep out a rain of that volume and intensity. The result is wet gear once again!  I hate to admit it, but I'm almost getting used to this routine.

I was up and packed and on the trail before 7:00 am.  My hope is to have some sunshine this afternoon to dry out my gear before the storms hit again tonight.  The forecast is a 50% chance with a warning for violent storms possible.  I hope to be safe in a shelter tonight before that happens.

. . . . . . 

I wrote the paragraphs above while eating breakfast on the trail just a short time after leaving my campsite. It is now 1:20 pm, and I'm sitting in the shade along state route 42 to who knows where.  The trail crosses the road here and there is also a little parking area and private picnic pavilion. This is the last link with the outside world for the next 50 miles or so.
It has taken me all day to come the 5.3 miles to this spot. The last few miles had me wondering if I would be able to even reach this point. Even by breakfast I was aware the things were not going well.  My ankles were beginning to make their old complaints and I was not walking a rocky path.  My big concern, however, is the heat. I was feeling the effects of the temperature yesterday afternoon, but by 8:00 this morning I knew I was in trouble. I have been drinking all the water that I can find, but I am also sweating at an unbelievable rate. I am glad to know that my body is still sweating and trying to cool itself, but all the signs of heat exhaustion are manifesting themselves at this point.

My fear is to press on beyond here puts me in a remote location where I might have difficulty getting help.  My phone does not work, and there are no real road crossings after this one. I don't have the strength right now to even get to the next shelter and water, which is about 2.5 miles further on. I think that I have reached the end of what I can do and remain safe.

July 17, 2013

It is 5:15 pm. I'm huddled in my tent in a deserted camping area with rain pouring down outside and thunder booming overhead. You guessed it! It is my "welcome back, we missed you!" thunderstorm. It just wouldn't be right to have a day on the trail without getting soaked!

The morning started off perfectly. Susan and I headed out of Maryville around 6:30 and steered our way into Virginia and my drop off point. I enjoyed the few hours we had to talk and catch up on months of missed conversations.

My drop off was right by the interstate. There we said our goodbyes. I watched her drive away and then turned and headed back northward on the trail.

In reality, the trail actually headed due west all day. Over the next week I will move into some remote country west of interstate 81, and right along the West Virginia state line. Further north, the trail will swing back east of the interstate once again and head up through the Shenandoah National Park. Virginia contains more miles of the trail than any other state. It will be a long trek getting through it.

If you are wanting advice about stopping in the middle of a thru hike to take some time off and attend a convention, let me advise against it. The meeting in Louisville was great and worthwhile, but it is really hard to start back after being away that long. The transition from the air conditioned surroundings to the blazing heat was brutal today. My legs are aching and my hips hurting from the sudden plunge back into hiking with a pack on my back. The fat cells, which had began to reclaim my middle spent the morning laughing at me, bouncing with fiendish joy at every step I took. My lungs, grown used once again to the cool monitored air of civilization, fought the thick warm summer atmosphere of the trail as I walked.

My original goal for the day was a shelter 13.5 miles away. I set a secondary goal of a campsite at the 10 mile mark, just in case. The reality is that I have ended at a campsite only 6.5 miles along the trail from my starting point this morning. Several factors played into my short mileage today. First of all, it was 10:30 am before I arrived on trail and could begin. Another factor was my condition after being off trail for almost three weeks. It was in some ways harder to hike today than when I first began the trail in April. My mind knew what I should do, but my body was not ready to execute. The third, and unexpected, factor was the heat. I had hiked in some hot days in June, but I was not prepared for the intensity of July heat after being in air conditioning. I ran out of water before I could resupply. My energy level drained quickly to zero, and I began to feel panic.

Years ago, while a college student, I came close to death with a heat stroke. I ended up in the UT Hospital ICU with a temperature of 106 and still rising. That's the last I remember until I came through. Since then, I have had no major trouble with heat stroke, but have gotten sick on occasion when I overheat. Just last summer I had to cut short a Group Workcamp week because of heat. Until today, I never really thought about it has a danger for the hike. I guess I assumed that if God wanted me to hike, He would protect me from the heat. This afternoon, however, I started experiencing some of those old feelings of panic that come with the heat reaction. That is the major reason that I have stopped early. When I do overheat, it takes me days to recover. My mind gets fuzzy, and I loose all my strength and get sick in the stomach. My plan now is to take it easy again tomorrow, hiking the almost 8 miles to the next shelter. That should allow my body and systems some extra time to adjust to the outdoors once again. I also plan on getting early starts to my days so I can hike in cooler weather and perhaps stop and rest in the intense heat of the afternoon.

It pleased me to say that my ankles were not a real problem today. The trail was easy on my feet and there were no real challenges to deal with, however. I am still optimistic about things and will move ahead one day at a time. Thanks for all the prayers and encouraging words over the past few weeks. It is good to be back.

July 9, 2013

The morning was spent in preparation. A breakfast meeting ironed out the major details of a week that would include caring for the residents of Riverwood during their visit to Louisville, the operation of a respite room for the main sessions of the upcoming convention, the maning of our booth in the display area, and the entrance hike through the streets of Louisville and into the convention center.

Later in the morning Susan arrived to be a part of the hike with me.  A short time later the crowd from Riverwood arrived and settled into their rooms to rest up for the hike and long evening at the convention center.  By mid afternoon all was ready. 

I could feel the nervous tension in the circle as we gathered to begin the journey. Joining hands with me in a circle of prayer were the residents of CCDM's Riverwood Homes, along with other friends and staff that had come along to join us for our hike into the Louisville Convention Center.  In just a few minutes we would move out onto the sidewalks of downtown Louisville and make our way through the streets and into the vast area of the convention center that served as the host site for the North American Christian Convention. Once inside, we would continue our hike through the large display halls, greeting people all along the way.

The hike was a great success. We sang as we hiked, stopping from time to time to hand out information or to greet an interested bystander.  At one intersection we encountered two young men carrying full packs on their backs, traveling across the city in the summer heat.  They greeted the group as "kindred spirits" and wished us well as we moved on toward our goal.

Once inside the convention center our presence was more obvious.  We moved through the long rows of displays until we finally completed our journey at the Blazing New Trails booth. For the rest of the evening and all the next day the Riverwood residents enjoyed greeting and interacting with the crowds that past by. For each of them, and for me, it will always be a walk to remember.

The Riverwood Community is a unique place, a rare atmosphere of love and care in a quiet, beautiful setting in east Tennessee. Unfortunately, it can only serve a small segment of our nation's special needs community.  With Blazing New Trails, we are trying to encourage churches and individuals to be aware of the needs of these people and their families who live around them in their own communities. My hope is that this little walk in downtown Louisville, and my much longer hike up the Appalachian Trail will somehow help in making that message take root and grow.