There and Back Again

Well I am sure all of you were very worried about my pilgrimage into the city. Well I made it and after walking about 30-40 km in day (I had to get a ride back the next day, I was wrecked) I had an entirely new appreciation for those who could run that (although they were likely not carrying a 40lb backpack). The pain really all focused in the hips . . . who knew? Sleeping on the ground probably didn't help either. Anyway, here are some shots from along the way.
In the words of Whitesnake,
here I go again on my own
Goin down the only road Ive ever known,
Like a drifter I was born to walk alone
An I've made up my mind
I ain't wasting no more time
so here I go again . . .
Good grief my driveway was long enough. The one thing I must certainly learned from the last two days is that walking makes the world huge.

My backpack became heavy enough quickly enough so I decided to take the train tracks to save some time.

Stand By Me anyone? Probably wasn't a good a idea.

The cookie cutterization of Baden . . . it was such nice little town.

Well country mouse finally made it to the city and plopped himself down on the first bus stop bench to get downtown. What you didn't see in pictures was an over 5 hour walk that included a brief downpour where I huddled under my tiny $1.50 tarp. Also during which time my hips seized up like an old man.

Next stop was City Hall where I found out there was a free concert going on.

There where not any good acts playing so I decided to try and take a nap in Victoria Park.

After some wandering around and confirming my sleeping arrangements I made it back to the concert to watch Sloan.


I parked myself on the sidewalk where I looked over to see one of the best pieces of theological graffiti that I had seen in awhile. For some reason I like the phrase "All of God". There is a type of totalizing abandon in this phrase fitting of someone like God and well there are worse adjectives to use of God than 'insane'.

After the show I headed towards my 'camp site' which was a cemetery on a Mennonite church property on the edge of the downtown area. I debated internally on the ethics of sleeping in a graveyard but felt in the end that it should be on of the most welcoming of spaces and accessible to the weary traveler.

The first spot a lay down at looked good but when I got up to look around I was faced with this guy and he royally freaked me out.

So I moved over and lay next to a Gascho and certainly did not sleep like the dead that night. I tossed and turned and slept intermittently after which I got up at about 5:30 and hit the street again with my wobbly hips in search of breakfast and whatever was to come . . .