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El Finalo Bloggo

That's right, it is the end of it all, sort of. My final short video is up (see the bottom) and now I am officially onto my new blog. Hope you enjoy. Cheers.

Part One

Part Two

Lahaina, HI: Afterlife

I'll be getting video up just as soon as I can. My poor little laptop has pretty much given me all she's got with memory and I have no Scotty to help me. The first 5 minutes are done more or less, but you'll have to give me a bit of time.

In other news, being that I am no longer walking, I'll be switching to a new blog which will be starting up immediately to deal with my continued adventures and my trouble coping with post walk life.

Find it here: Skip Potts - Adventure Nerd

Santa Monica Pier, CA: That's All Folks

It wasn't what I pictured but what ever is? I didn't cry, just so you know. The important thing was I finished, ran right out into the ocean and dove in.

Surprisingly, what was moving wasn't reaching the coast, maybe if I had gone alone it would have been more moving for me, but I wouldn't trade the way things did end for anything. It was a mess, a random reporter, friends from survival school, family and a few more friends. No one knew what was happening. I didn't know whether to walk to the end of the pier or into the ocean, and everyone was trying to figure it out. I'm not accustomed to these kinds of messes anymore, I just keep going and before long the decision is made. I had a small reprieve doing a jig for the camera man and being sprayed with Champagne by my buddies that walked in the last 8 miles with me, then I headed down to the ocean.

Like I said, surprisingly, the water wasn't the most memorable thing, though jumping into the water felt good, it didn't feel finished, it was just too simple. Then we went to the park and slowly, those same friends and family showed up, a few couch surfers joined in and even a few more friends who were running late. What ended the walk was that, being there with people I knew and loved, joking those old familiar jokes and knowing that nothing would quite match just sitting in a room together and laughing. Several times I just sat with a dopey grin on my face watching my friends in way that might even seem creepy, but it was so simple that the only thing that could result was pure well being and happiness. People are the only version of home I know now.

I'll do a few more blogs here, and try to get two more videos up and then we'll see. Thanks so much for being a part of this.

The Walk into the Sunset

Schedule of the day:

Start of Route (Verve Lounge) @ 11pm
Westwood & Olympic @ Noon
26th & Olympic @ 1pm
The Pier @ 2pm (Walk End)
Beach Park #1 by 4pm (Potluck)

Route

Beverly Hills, CA: 9021-Whoa

Miles since last blog: 16.7
Miles Total: 3801.1
Miles left: 7.8

Route

Saturday's Route

From the Lobby of my Buddy's Hotel the cool ocean air blew in and filled the room with the air of the sea.

"It's all done." I thought to myself knowing it technically wasn't, but feeling that a distance of less than 8 miles was negligible.

"Nine months," I say all day to people wanting to know how long it took me to walk the US. They don't know my name, they call me 'Superman' because of my shirt.

"That's like having a baby," a lot of them say.

"Yeah, through your feet." I always joke back. The symbolism of time hasn't been lost on me though. I've thought about it many times. This walk has taken on a life of it's own, for me it is a person, and though some new life will be born to the Pacific tomorrow, an old one will end. The idea that this will live on only in my poor memory is a little sad to me, there are many parts I have already forgotten and many more that surely will follow.

Tomorrow will be happy and sad, I've glimpsed a little of it already. I'll probably blubber at some point but not too much. My image of Saturday afternoon is getting clearer and clearer but I still have nothing for Sunday or any of the following days. I suppose I'll just float for a while. There's an idea, maybe I'll get supplies and tubes and head north to just drift down a cool summer river for a few weeks.

My glimpse of Saturday has been in the form of old friends. D, an old friend from high school is a hair stylist in Beverly Hills and my route took me right past her salon, which is the reason I now have a fabulous new LA doo. I should have known I couldn't get through LA without a makeover, in Beverly Hills they even make sure their homeless wanderers are stylish. And Buddy, I've mentioned him before. There's something about starving in the desert and almost dying that forms a strong bond between people. He was my 'buddy,' of the buddy system buddies, during survival school which ended a scant 10 days before I started this whole trek. Tonight was the first time we had ever seen each other indoors.

It's from Buddy's hotel room that I am writing this morning, I woke up at 4 am and couldn't sleep. The night had been filled with stories and laughs and beers, it felt like a peek at the future, but at 4 am my legs ached a little in a familiar and sad way. I wanted to do something, I walked downstairs and filled my canteen that Buddy had gotten me and I had carried all the way across the country. I walked past the signs for the gym and the pool and felt a general air of not knowing what to do with myself. It's the worry I've had for a while now, afterwards, after this climax, will life be blah? Will I be returning to the black and white Kansas after walking the colorful roads of my Oz?

I will be happy to end, but I don't think it will be long before I'm putting on my Ruby Running Shoes and hitting the road again, maybe not on foot, but who knows.





Here's a schedule for Saturday if anyone is interested in walking the a few of the final miles or showing for the potluck.

Start of Route (Verve Lounge) @ 11pm
Westwood & Olympic @ Noon
26th & Olympic @ 1pm
The Pier @ 2pm (Walk End)
Beach Park #1 by 4pm (Potluck)

Alhambra, CA: The feat of feet

Miles since last blog: 24.7
Miles Total: 3784.4

Route

There's been a sacrifice. My pinky toe has lost it's nail. It's the first time that it has happened to me, but I suppose a tribute to the walk is in order and to be fair it was only a few square millimeters anyway. SO, no, it's not like my first born son or a lamb or a virgin or anything, but still I kind of liked the idea that if I was randomly polled to see how many toenails I had I could fit in the majority and say '10.' I mean, it's not that I just hop on any band wagon, but this one adds the convenience of not getting the follow up question, "How many toes do you have?" which is a bit weird. But enough about my toenails, or lack thereof.

Tomorrow is my last 'big day,' but it's still less than 20 miles to my stop point which is just 5 miles shy of the pier. I get Friday off and then a short walk in with a few friends and family before I start my next steps, whatever they may be. I'm thinking voluntary mascot for something that doesn't need it, like I could become a mascot for puppies. I'll keep thinking about it though.

The low mileage tomorrow doesn't mean the day will be any easier though. The daily treks with my heavy pack are taking a toll (see paragraph 1) on my body. My feet hurt like the first week. They feel bruised and broken and even at the end of the day when I've gotten a bit of rest and get back up to do something, I walk like an old man. My shoulders hurt, my knees hurt, my neck is doing 'interesting' things. Nearly 20 miles will be no picnic, but it will be made easier by the ever nearing Ocean which I can feel in the air and probably am fooling myself into believing I can smell, but it could just be the rain I got today.

I have no idea what the hell I am doing anymore.

24.3