Taking A Walk

by Dwayne Phillips

I walked six days a week for much of the time. Monday through Friday had one set of traffic and activity. Saturday was different – vastly different.

Since Saturday comes every week, you would think that I would know that a day was Saturday and be prepared for it. Wrong – Saturday always surprised me. I knew it was Saturday as my watch has a little day-of-the-week display and I had planned my movements from motel to motel around the days of the week. I would start walking on Saturday, see different patterns of behavior about me, and wonder what was wrong with all those people on the road and in the towns. It finally hit me mid-morning; Oh, today is Saturday!

We were walking through the city of Cleveland, Tennessee on one Saturday. Route 11 had become a large, four-lane roadway. Three things were obvious: traffic, traffic, and traffic. It isn’t so much the traffic on the road you notice as the traffic in the parking lots. People shop and run errands on Saturday. In and out of this parking lot on the way to the next parking lot. People don’t seem to realize they are in a parking lot as they drive as fast as they drive on the road. Why is it that people drive so fast in parking lots?

Most of the Saturdays I was walking in rural areas outside of town. I could tell what time of day it was by the flow of traffic. In the morning, people were driving to the nearest big town – where the stores are. In the afternoon, people were driving away from the nearest town – shopping done, go home.

The thing that characterized Saturday in the rural areas was the amount of traffic. The number of vehicles on the road at least tripled. Country folk go to town on Saturday. That is a stereotype, but one of the more true stereotypes I have ever heard.

Another characteristic of Saturdays in rural areas was the type of vehicle on the road. During the week, work vehicles own the road. Pickup trucks with large tool boxes and ladders. larger trucks with arc welders, acetylene tanks, and air compressors, logging trucks (especially in Alabama and Mississippi), and dump trucks. Most of these work vehicles disappeared on Saturday to be replaced by cars driven by women. (No jokes here about women drivers.)

I didn’t like Saturday traffic. There was just too much of it. In addition, Saturday drivers didn’t adjust as well to some guy walking down the side of Route 11 while wearing a Tilley hat and a backpack.

by Dwayne Phillips

I like Moon Pies. For the uninitiated, and I am surprised that to this day there are some who are uninitiated in the culinary arts of southern marshmallow snacks, a Moon Pie has some marshmallow cream on the inside, a couple of sheets of sweet cracker, and the whole thing is coated with chocolate. There. I have tried to describe Moon Pies to a lot of people who have never seen one. It is a difficult thing to do. Please see the Moon Pie web site.

Since I walked from Northern Virginia to Southeastern Louisiana, I never left Moon Pie territory. Every gas station that sold coffee (they all do) and snacks had Moon Pies. I mentioned above that Moon Pies are coated with chocolate. That is the original Moon Pie. My favorite Moon Pie is coated with banana flavored stuff, whatever it is that they coat Moon Pies with. The number three most-often seen coating is vanilla.

Chocolate, banana, and vanilla are only three of the coatings. I thought they were the only three coatings, but I learned a few more things about Moon Pies while taking a walk. Moon Pies also come in lemon, orange, and strawberry coatings – at least I saw those three coatings. I haven’t consulted the web site to see if they have even more flavors.  I tried all six of the types of Moon Pie while walking (chocolate, banana, vanilla, orange, lemon, strawberry). They are all good (how can marshmallow combined with other sweets not be good?).  I still favor the banana flavor, but that is just me.

I learned that the home of the Moon Pie is Chattanooga, Tennessee and we walked through there. We didn’t pass the Moon Pie factory or anything and I doubt they gave out free samples.

Moon Pies go good with coffee. They also go good with a coke, and that is a close second to the coffee.

I don’t know what essential nutrients are in Moon Pies. I don’t know if there are any essential nutrients in Moon Pies. I sort of doubt that there are as a Moon Pie tastes to good to be good for you. I do know that they provide some energy for the body and a lot of refreshment for the mind and the soul.

by Dwayne Phillips

Dublin Virginia is a small town. It sits fairly close to Interstate 81. There are four or five motels there by the Interstate as well as fast food restaurants and the usual Golden Mile things. One of those restaurants is Fatz. Fatz is a chain, I guess a national chain but not as big as most.

The menu at Fatz is about like those of most “American Food” restaurants. They have the variety of burgers, soups, salads, entrees and on and on. What is different is their side dish: grits. I grew up eating grits. I still eat them from time to time. What is more, I disdain the alternative to grits – oatmeal, yuck.

My great meal was a hamburger with grits on the side instead of french fries. Their grits had a few extra spices in them and a little cheese on the top. It was great. I had never thought about it much before, but the protein and fat in a burger mixes well with the, well I don’t really know what it is in grits that makes them grits. Whatever it is, it mixes well with the protein and fat of a burger.

Now that I write about it, I realize that I haven’t had a burger with grits on the side since that great meal at Fatz. I’ll make a point of fixing some grits the next time my wife cooks some burgers. I wonder if I could convince McDonald’s, Burger King, or Wendy’s to…oh, never mind.

One thing I know for sure – I will N E V E R try a burger with oatmeal as a side dish.

by Dwayne Phillips

It was the ninth day of taking a walk in 2009. As a coincidence, it was the first day of October 2009. What was important was that it was the first day that I woke feeling good.

The previous eight days I woke in pain. My legs hurt, my feet hurt, my back hurt, my shoulders hurt, my arms hurt…let’s see, have I missed any major body parts?

The ninth day I woke, stood next to the bed, and paused. I waited a few moments – nothing hurt. Wow. This is how you are supposed to feel. Good health without pain. A little blessing, no a big blessing while on the road.

Pains would return; they would return that same afternoon. The returned pains, however, were not like the old pains. The old pains didn’t come back the rest of the walk.

Simple explanations are that I acclimated to the walk. My muscles grew to the task, and so on. Well, the simple explanation are just “and so on.” The complex explanations are, well complex. Blessings are like that, difficult to explain but simple to enjoy.

by Dwayne Phillips

Hills and turns. Up and down, back and forth. Such a road is great for driving a sports car, but terrible for walking – especially with a bicycle (see how I had to walk with a bicycle for three weeks ). It isn’t so much physically exhausting as it is mentally and emotionally.

I was drained at 3 PM on a Friday afternoon after a day of hills and turns. I passed through Cottondale, Alabama on my way to the motel for the evening. I stopped at a local place called The Southland Restuarant. It looked like a good place to drink a cup of afternoon coffee and eat a desert.

It was the perfect place to drink a cup of afternoon coffee and eat a desert.

I don’t remember exactly what the desert was. I guess that is because I never understood what the waitress said it was. It had coconut in it; I knew that for sure.
I sat there for maybe an hour sipping my cup of afternoon coffee plus a refill, contemplating another desert (I resisted), and plotting in my journal via my iPhone maps.

I remember that I was searching for a motel somewhere between Tuscaloosa and Livingston. Internet searches had shown me nothing. My iPhone search found a Comfort Inn near Eutaw. I cannot explain how thrilling it was to find a Comfort Inn near Eutaw. That motel would save me 70 miles of driving.

That thrill is one of the things that made taking a walk so much fun. Little things like finding a motel, sipping coffee, and eating a desert that had coconut in it and who knows what else on an afternoon when you didn’t think you could think about anything.

This is supposed to be an entry about a great meal. Well, I didn’t eat a meal at The Southland Restaurant as it was too early in the afternoon and I was too hot and tired to eat a meal. This looked like a restuarant that would serve a great meal. Everyone was wearing a University of Alabama football jersey. Cottondale isn’t far from the University of Alabama, so that made sense. The kitchen smelled good, the waitresses looked like they would serve good food, the menu looked good, there was a manager walking about talking to customers. These are all signs of a great meal. Besides, how could a place called The Southland with a capital “T” in “The” not serve great meals?

I was to walk through Cottondale the next day. I looked forward to eating a meal at The Southland. Rats, they were closed on Saturday and Sunday. I never had the chance to eat there. Maybe one day. I hope so and I may even learn what else was in that desert in addition to coconut.

by Dwayne Phillips

“There were days when I didn’t want to eat anything.” That is a good way to lose weight: walk 18 miles, ride a bike 18 miles, do it all in 85+ degrees heat, and don’t eat. Yes, you can lose weight that way – I don’t advise it, but it works.

The idea that I wouldn’t want to eat anything came as a surprise. One of the nice things about exercising a lot is that you burn a lot of calories. When you burn a lot of calories, you can take in a lot of calories and not gain weight. Hmm, sounds like a nice side affect of taking a walk.

Well, the theory didn’t hold much.

I had heard of people who were “too hot to eat” and “too tired to eat.” I doubted those statements. I doubt no longer.

I actually forced myself to eat on a few days. This was a mental exercise. I would sit and tell myself quietly to calm down, calm down, breathe slowly, breathe slowly, take a bite, chew, swallow…repeat.

Sometimes you learn unusual things while taking a wlk.

by Dwayne Phillips

I love to eat at unique, small-town restaurants. I have written of some those in this series of blog posts. After those, I ate at national fast food chains. McDonald’s, the most prevalent of all fast foot chains, was the the least frequented. I liked Hardee’s best because we don’t have Hardee’s where I live in Northern Virginia. After these two types of restaurants come the national chains: Outback Steakhouse, Chili’s, Panera’s, and so on.

Given this hierarchy of food, I hate to admit that one of the best meals I ate was at a national restaurant chain – The International House of Pancakes.

I was in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, and it was raining when I awoke. Sigh; it was going to be a slow morning. The rain had quit by 7 AM, but the roads were too wet for my liking, actually too wet for my biking as the tires throw road water all over me. I needed to kill an hour until 8 AM or so.

There it was – the IHOP. I go to an IHOP about two times a year. There is one thing on the menu that I order

chocolate chip pancakes

At IHOP, they don’t just put chocolate chips in the pancake batter. They put chocolate in the pancake batter as well. I think they pour chocolate syrup into the batter, but people who know something about cooking claim that such a batter would burn and not cook. I don’t know how they do it, but the chocolate chip pancakes taste like they are half chocolate syrup.

Then there is the whipped cream. The waitresses at IHOP always ask if I want the whipped cream on top of the pancakes. Are they kidding? Why do they ask this? Of course I want the whipped cream. What good are chocolate chips and chocolate syrup in pancakes without whipped cream on top – a lot of whipped cream piled high.

Then there are the flavored syrups. Ah yes, the IHOP flavors of syrup on the table. I cannot remember what they flavors are; I think strawberry is one of them. I don’t think the taste of the syrups match the label on the dispenser. That doesn’t matter – I like the taste.

Eating Procedure:

1. Put a little of the first flavor syrup on the edge of the pancakes,
2. eat that,
3. put a little of the next flavor syrup on the edge of the pancakes,
4. eat that,
5. repeat steps 3. and 4. until you have tasted all the flavors on the table,
6. go back to step 1.

This is a great way to kill an hour before walking 18 miles and then riding a bike 18 miles in the Alabama heat and humidity. A great meal to start a great day.

by Dwayne Phillips

My son Adam was ten (now he is 22). He was on a new soccer team, and I took him to practice and watched. The coach was a tall man just a few years younger than me. The team looked pretty good, real good. Well, they were real good. They won every game they played that season.

They won every game they played the next season, and the next, and the next, and – well they won over 90% of the games they played over the next six years.

The tall man just a few years younger than me stayed with the team all those years. His role changed from year to year as he recruited a former professional soccer player to coach the team. He managed things like leagues, sign ups, uniforms, and all those details that can derail a group of kids if left unattended.

The tall man’s name was Greg. The kids loved him. When he wasn’t around, they asked about him. One season he missed about a month. He had serious surgery for a growth in his abdomen. The surgery went well, and he recovered. They kids didn’t understand why he was away, but they were happy to see him return.

One night while taking a walk in 2008, I received a phone call from a woman whose son played on my son’s soccer team those six years. Greg had died. I asked her several times in several different ways to make sure that we were talking about the same tall man just a few years younger than me. As best as I tried, I couldn’t get her to talk about someone else. Greg had died. Something from that growth in his abdomen had returned and killed him.

I missed Greg’s passing and his funeral because I was taking a walk.

I loved taking a walk. Having the opportunity to do it was one of the great blessings in my life. One of the bad things about taking a walk is that you are away from home and you miss life. Someone who meant much to you and your son and many other parents and sons grows ill, dies, and is buried, and you aren’t there – you miss it.

Such are the days of a life. While you are in one place experiencing one set of events, you are not in another place experiencing a different set of events. What tears at me is that I don’t know the two sets of events ahead of time. I cannot think them through and choose which I will experience. We choose without complete knowledge and take what comes. We then miss life in another way.

by Dwayne Phillips

My wife is a dietitian. She once ran a school cafeteria and fed 700 kids a day. She pays attention to what we eat and always keeps us on a balanced diet.

I like hamburgers and french fries. I have always liked hamburgers and french fries. And then there are hot dogs. I love hot dogs.

It is easy to find hamburgers, french fries, and hot dogs on the road in rural America. I think that every gas station in America has one of those machines with the rollers that roll hot dogs back and forth all day. Those hot dogs look so good, and did I mention that I love hot dogs. I really do love hot dogs.

Perhaps you can see by now the tension that might come into play here. In 2008, my wife walked with me. She kept track of what we were eating and ensured that we didn’t live on hamburgers, french fries, and hot dogs. I was happy with that arrangement.

In 2009, I walked by myself for three weeks and then with my brother for the last two weeks. I worked hard to ensure that I didn’t eat hamburgers, french fries, and hot dogs all the time.

Let’s pause a moment on the discussion of food and steer over to another little thing that happens when taking a walk. By the end of an 18-mile day, I cannot remember what I did or ate three hours earlier. That is one reason I jotted notes in a pocket notebook and took photographs during the day. Otherwise, I would have only remembered about a third of the walk. Now back to food and the desire for a balanced diet.

I had a journal with me on the walk. One thing I recorded was what I ate everyday. On good days, I recorded every single little thing I ate and drank. I would look through the days and note how long it had been since I ate green beans or corn or salad or chicken. I adjusted my evening meal accordingly.

My wife never asked if I had been eating well. Nevertheless, I was ready to answer.

by Dwayne Phillips

I am an engineer. I like the design of things; I like to see lots of different things so I can study their designs. That is a big reason I loved taking a walk. I could see all the roads, fences, houses, barns, tractors, cars, trucks, silos, and everything else in rural America that has been designed, tested, and used. Great things everywhere produced by great engineers.

I have written several posts about the equipment I used while taking a walk. Note how I use the word “equipment.” That is how I see it – equipment. Something that an engineer designed, tested, made, and used.

All this appreciation of finely designed and made equipment brings me to an embarrassing description of the pants that I wore every single day of walking (not half of the days, not three-fourths of the days, every single day).

I wore a pair of pants that my wife bought for me eight or ten years before taking a walk. I don’t know where she bought them, maybe K-Mart or some place like that. The name of the maker faded away from the little white tag on the inside of the pants. Also faded away were the materials used, the size, and everything else that an engineer would note when describing the equipment to readers.

Here is all that I can write about them: they are dark blue, they have six pockets with the fifth and sixth being on the thighs, you can remove the bottom halves of the legs to turn the long pants into short pants. I never did that as I always wore them as long pants for warmth in the cold and protection from sun burn in the heat.

The pants are made of some type of synthetic material. I don’t know what it is, but two things of note: (1) they never snagged and never tore and (2) they dry quickly. I would wash them in the sink in the evening, hang them in the bathroom, and they would be dry the next morning. Wear, wash, wear, wash, repeat every single day for 1,100 miles.

The moral of the story: you don’t need name brand clothes to wear. Simple, inexpensive ones will work just fine.