In five days I will embark upon my walk across the north of England. Plane, train, taxi and hotel reservations have been made and confirmed. American and British currency has been collected and hidden away. The checklist has been printed out. Supplies have been purchased or retrieved from closets and drawers. Now everything is splayed out across two twin beds to receive a final inspection and to be checked off the list before being deposited into backpack or suitcase. My dutiful brother has offered to drive me to Logan Airport on Tuesday afternoon (so the anticipated loneliness of a Peter Pan bus ride is no more). Well-wishers have checked in. A few of my closest friends are aware that the past week has been unusually stressful for yours truly for reasons having nothing to do with this adventure. That stress has thankfully abated now that its source has been addressed by its perpetrators. But the buzz caused by several sleepless nights makes this getaway all the more welcome.
Several of my followers have already honored my effort by making donations to McAuley Ministries. I am so grateful to you for that! You know who you are. I cannot thank you enough! And I hope that many more of you will give that a look and consider helping the Sisters of Mercy to fulfill their mission to care for the most needy among us.
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I need to supplement the earlier entry entitled “Going it Alone.” In that passage, I mentioned the two young women that Mike met during our walk across England in 2022 and 2023. I marveled at their determination and courage to undertake this trek on their own and how they have been part of my own inspiration for this solo adventure. I was remiss in omitting another person who supplied a like measure of inspiration.
On the second day of our first outing in 2022, Mike and I had entered the cusp of the Lake District after walking the length of Ennerdale Water. We took a short breather before heading off toward the mountains that now loomed before us. As we stood there an English man in hiking gear like our own caught up to us and chatted briefly. I judged him to be roughly in my own age bracket as he offered a description of the trail we were about to enter. This was in mid-September so I felt compelled to share with our companion the fact that I was doing this walk at the ripe old age of 73 having just celebrated my birthday. The man was polite enough to act as if he were impressed by my level of fitness but I guess he had an instinct for puckish irony because, as he set out ahead of us, he turned and told us that he had just turned 92. I have thought of that gentleman from time to time since that September day and expressed a wish to myself that I may enjoy such good health for as long as he had. So I need to add that man as one of my inspirations for taking this walk all by myself.
Ennerdale Water at the spot where we met the Englishman