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7/2/2011

It’s fourth of July weekend and the cars are passing me at high speeds. I think I’m more cautious now than I was when I started this thing. I wouldn’t want anything to happen on this final stretch. Last night I was put up by the Courtyard Marriot in Canton. For those of you that don’t know about Canton, Ohio, It’s where the football hall of fame is located. Akron, Ohio sits about fifteen minutes north of there. Some people know it as the hometown of Lebron James, while others say it is the tire capital of the world. I refer to it as my birthplace. Originally, the plan was to pass through Akron, find the hospital where I was born, and get a copy of my birth certificate.

The best laid plans always change. You must have your goal in sight but make room for adjustments...

7/3/2011

I think one of the ghosts from the Mansfield Reformatory wanted to play a trick on me. I felt pain in my right foot the moment I got out of bed. I tried massaging it with some sports cream but the tender feeling didn’t go away. Being a certified hypochondriac, I began to freak out. I started to self diagnose myself as a million thoughts ran through my head. One thing to know, being close to the end of this journey does not make me feel calm when my body speaks. I scrutinize every little ache because I can’t let anything stop me now.

I had two breakfasts before I hit the road. Blueberry crepes with cheese, potato soup, hash browns, cereal, pastries, and juice were the items I needed to begin waking up...

6/30/2011

George the stroller is past his prime. His heyday has passed him by. His tires are balding and he is tattered and torn from our various battles against the road. He is looking to retire and enjoy quiet strolls in the park. I find that I’m sharing his sentiment. My shoes, just like his tires, are worn. My body, it doesn’t know what it’s supposed to feel. I bet if I woke up without and ache, I would think something was wrong.

So I started my day at the Mansfield, Ohio Reformatory. I excitedly waited at the gate bright and early. It would be a day of tourism and ghost hunting. The creepy prison was better than I expected. The rusted iron and peeling paint everywhere gave the dungeons a feeling antiquity. The long rows of cells went on and on.

The architect of the building actually c...