Months ago, I landed in Cincinnati early in the morning, bussed into town, and started walking nearly immediately. On that first day, I covered nearly thirty miles, driven by the desire to hit three states–Ohio, Kentucky, and Indiana–in one day. I felt like I was near my walking peak, having just returned from Spain and enjoyed a few recovery days, so the distance wasn’t intimidating. Nonetheless, the heat and humidity made it a grind, and it would take me at least a couple of weeks to fully adjust to it.
By contrast, I came into this walk in a more relaxed manner, with only a few miles to stroll through on day one, and a good night’s sleep before the first longer walk. And, these first two full days top off around 25 miles. That five-mile difference might not sound like much, but it’s huge–that’s chopping off two potentially painful hours and replacing them with bonus rest.
Of course, lest you think this was some impressive display of maturity on my part, taking things easier on my body, let me disabuse you of that notion. It was all driven by wariness about the weather. I had visions of driving rain, heavy wind, and a very haggard expression on my face through it all. Our wet landing at Cape Henlopen yesterday only reinforced those concerns.
However, today was pretty much ideal walking weather–overcast skies, cool temperatures, and not a drop of rain. And the forecast shows little chance of rain for the next four-to-five days. Between that and a washer/dryer available in my place tonight, I’m feeling very good.
Fritz and I headed out from Lewes at 7am, first following the road but then quickly transitioning to a rails-to-trails track. An hour later, we arrived at our first break–the marvelous Old World Breads bakery just outside of town. My lone regret is that it came as early in the trip as it did; my stomach is not yet sufficiently stretched to properly appreciate their work. As such, we were back on the road before too much money changed hands.
After a little bit more time spent on the pedestrian track, we then transitioned onto minor roads, spending the rest of the day winding through Delaware farmland, interrupted only by a short break at the Food Lion in Milton. We passed a field that was blanketed in geese, exploding in a storm of flapping wings just as we turned the corner. We saw a buzzard ripping the final shreds of carrion from a bleached carcass. It wasn’t the most dramatic scenery of all time and it was non-stop pavement, but it was comfortable enough. Three pro-Trump signs on the day, with nary a hint of Biden support.
And now, a restful night in a windowless room, with toasty warm clothes, while a brief storm crashes through the area.
