"The journey of a thousand miles...

...begins with one step."   -Lao Tzu

I awoke on June 12, 2001 in my parent's home early in the morning (I'm talking before 5 am people!)  My parents, lovely people that they are, took me to the Greyhound bus terminal and waved me off on my journey.

From my journal:
Day 0-1: Said bye to mom and dad at about 5:20 am and boarded the Greyhound.  It was running late and was even later when it arrived in Roanoke so they switched us to an Express to D.C.  Already one bus transfer and not even to D.C.!


I have to disclaim, a long Greyhound bus ride is not for the faint of heart. It took well over 24 hours for the whole trip from Tennessee to Maine, transferring from bus to bus, sitting uncomfortably for hours on end, and going through bus stations that leave you wondering about your safety...


8:05 PM We switched to an express bus that got us to D.C. 1 hour early.  I’ve been hopping onto expresses before any scheduled time so I’m 4.5 hours early for my schedule.
I’m in downtown NYC right now - gonna watch...  We went by Central Park and through Harlem.  What a contrast this will be!  Here is mass humanity, structures and storefronts over huge tracts of squeezed, compact land.  How different will the AT be?!


As psyched up as I was for the quiet of the woods, the splendor of nature, and the beauty of mountains, it was quite a drag to go through smelly bus stations and be cramped in a bus for so long.


But one moment of this part of my journey lifted my spirits.


NYC's Greyhound station left me afraid for my life, and I was scheduled to have a layover there for 4 hours. This was to be avoided for survival sake. I found an express bus going to Boston, the next stop on my itinerary, and convinced the bus driver to let me on.


Boston's south station was much better, more of a cathedral feel. With lofty ceilings, clean marble floors, and only a few souls waiting piously, it was a much better place to wait for now 6 hours on a cold, hard bench.

+++http://www.southstation.org/southst.htm

I noticed a foreign woman sitting about thirty feet away on the opposite side of the station waiting on a bench like mine. This was not too remarkable, except that a homeless man wandered in and started to serenade her.


I mean, this guy was SERENADING her! He was giving all his gusto to sing love songs to this foreign lady, who glanced around nervously looking for solace.


I, apparently, was solace. She made her way over to my side of the station and sat on the other end of my four foot bench, causing the love-struck homeless man to wander after other Juliets.


The lady thanked me in stinting English, and explained she had arrived from Laos and was coming to visit her husband who was "in university".  


I explained that I was going to walk over 2000 miles through the woods. For a brief moment, I think she pondered if the love-struck homeless man was perhaps more sane.


I also explained how I found I wanted to be a teacher, and I wanted to hike the Appalachian Trail, a dream of mine, before beginning this career. She said I should move to Laos and teach, because teachers there are revered and given a house and the highest pay of almost any worker. It was very tempting, but God would have other plans for me.


I continued on my Greyhound bus trek a few hours later on the way to Maine, but my heart was lightened at being able to be there for this lady from Laos, and to here the respect she gave to me as a teacher.


It was quite a blessing at the beginning of my journey.