As we walked across the country people would ask what Cindy and I talked about while hiking all that time together. I always responded that we had little to talk about, followed by an imaginary conversation:
How was your day today, dear?
Same as yours.
What did you see?
Same thing you did.
I deflected the topic because Cindy and I seldom conversed due to her cognitive decline, something we were not confessing on our journey. People experiencing her affliction become too self-conscious to strike up a conversation. Before we married Cindy was known as “Gabby Galvin” and I enjoyed the hundreds of miles listening to her (I could also dominate a conversation, but never in such a delightful manner).
One of the downsides of what would otherwise be our most amazing journey, out of many, was we no longer entertained each other through the occasional miles of monotony. As we crossed the Front Range to Denver three people joined us on separate days, finally providing abundant opportunity to converse while hiking.
Dave Rockwell, a high school classmate, joined us in Georgetown to hike with us for the entire day. He then accompanied us to a speaking engagement I had at a college afterwards. “Rocky” and I were probably the two classmates most engaged in outdoor adventure out of about 120 high school students. We both acquired strong academic backgrounds after high school. I am not sure why we have not spent more time together over the years.
Mike Hinckley also joined us in Georgetown to join in our 25th anniversary celebration. As part of the same 1980 expedition that brought Cindy and I together, he continued to stay in touch and hiked more thousands of miles with us than any of our other long distance hiker friends. Though he did not hike with us out of Georgetown, Mike joined us as we came down out of the Front Range into the Denver area. After hiking with us he brought us to his home in Littleton, along with Ky, where we stayed for a couple of rest days.
We also hiked a few miles with Allan, who we met as we crested the last ridge of the Front Range and got our first glimpse of the plains. I imagine the intimidating awe that strikes the west bound hikers of the ADT when they come upon the looming presence of the Rocky Mountains after walking thousands of miles over the plains, particularly if they have not done previous mountain hikes. Truth be told, a similar awe struck me when I first glimpsed the expansive plains, stretching out to the eastern horizon.
I love mountains. Neither blizzards, thunderstorms, raging creeks nor lung busting terrain ever shook that love. My comfort with hiking over mountains resembles most people’s comfort with a stroll along their local nature trail. Mountains do not intimidate me. But the never-ending plains? Holy ****! Looking out towards the plains was like looking out over the ocean, with the same feeling of infinite vastness.
I had to stop for a while to gaze at and reflect on the several questions this vastness represented. How would we handle the sameness of the terrain? How would we handle the interminable road walks? How would we handle hiking through the winter? How would we handle the lack of daylight? How would we handle hiking through so many towns? How would we handle spending the most important holidays away from home? I felt more comfortable looking out over the Great Basin deserts we would cross in summer than I did looking out over America’s broad heartland.
During our rest days I gave an on-air interview at Denver’s public radio station and presented at the University of Denver. When we left Mike’s company after three days we brought with us the merchandise we stashed at his place during our drive across the country. Future stashes would need to be shipped home, as paltry sales of books and CDs reflected my lack of business acumen. Fortunately, there were signs that we could fund Ky’s support beyond Colorado, as people continued to donate without us asking.
We spent our last day in the Denver area with Dan Brunson, the golfer we met at a campground in Fruita, who suggested I should be giving my talks about kindness and community involvement to young people at schools. Since then I managed to present at four Colorado colleges. We were touched that he chose to camp out with us our first night back on the trail, which also happened to be his birthday.
For the rest of our hike I would speak at only one more college, but managed to present at high schools and elementary schools as well. Across the plains I added churches as yet another venue. All things considered, Dan had a huge influence on our journey and mission; I remain appreciative to this day.
