Sitting in a hostel in Damascus, VA, I contemplate the journey ahead. Each day is basically the same, just trying to get from point A to point B in a timely fashion. At this point, at mile 471, the last week or so has been an adventure.
“I dragged a comb across my head….”
Each morning has started off cold this past week. About 0530—0600 hrs I begin to wake up. I diligently take stock of the contents of my tent, …
Part 2
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