I’ll be setting out from Burlington, Iowa across the Mississippi at eight o’clock this morning. But before doing so, I want to quickly bring this blog up to date.

I left Mt. Pleasant two mornings ago. My hostess dropped me off at the highway, said her good-byes, and gave me a big hug. (I love hugs!) The walk began pleasantly, across the broad, nearly flat lands that dominate the topography that near the Mississippi.

Unfortunately, before even half the morning had passed, a new problem arose with my feet: the backs of them began tightening, so that I couldn’t stretch my ankles as I thrust forward from each foot, and the pain of trying to stretch them became acute. I was reduced to hobbling, and in misery.

Past lunch, when I was about halfway to my goal for the night, I was becoming concerned that this might be doing lasting damage to my joints or my tendons. Just about that time, a car pulled up, and a young brother-and-sister couple, who’d seen my evident misery, offered me a lift. They wanted to take me all the way to Burlington — a day and a half ahead of my schedule — but I thought that would be overdoing it. I did accept a ride to my goal for the current day, however — Danville, where I planned to camp. I figured the hours I bought might be spent in stretching exercises and such, to figure out what my problem was.

At Danville, then, I spent about forty minutes on a park bench, gradually stretching out my heels and listening to what the pain was telling me. It didn’t seem like it was a problem with the joints or the tendons; it felt like overtaxed muscles in there, stiffening up. At the end of the forty minutes, I struggled to my feet. The first few steps were hard, but by the time I’d hobbled a hundred yards I felt better than I’d felt in some hours.

It was now 3:30. I decided to walk a bit past my goal, listening to how my feet handled it. Big mistake! (Was I listening properly to the still, small Voice within me? I’m not sure I was.)

I did pretty well for an hour and a half or maybe two hours — it was still very painful to get started after taking off my pack or sitting down for any reason, but walking itself was okay. But come 5:00, when I started looking for a place to spend the night, I found myself on the edge of the giant Iowa Army Ammunition Plant (that bluish-grey semi-rectangular shape at the lower left corner of the map above), which looks very much like a vast, grim prison facility. The landscape was semi-industrial. No good places to camp. And I wasn’t likely to be offered a ride, that late in the afternoon and that near to a seeming prison.

Thus, in the end, I wound up having to walk all the way to Burlington — a total of about 21 miles of actual walking for that day. By the time I reached a motel, I could barely move!

I spent the whole of the next day — yesterday — holed up in my motel room, soaking my feet and stretching them.

Meanwhile, the young brother-and-sister couple who’d given me the lift to Danville, tipped off the local newspaper. My motel got a call from a reporter, and they connected him through to me. Could he walk with me the first few miles tomorrow? I told him my situation with my feet. He responded in an understanding manner. So he’ll be meeting me here at ten minutes before eight this morning, and we’ll see what I’m capable of.

Right now, it still hurts to stand, and I’m still reduced to hobbling. It’s not as bad as yesterday, but it’s bad.

I must say, I never had these problems in my hikes when I was young!

Tonight I’m due at Biggsville, where Monmouth Friends will begin giving me hospitality for two nights. They are already apprised of my situation, and my hostess for the coming night is prepared to pick me up early if it becomes necessary. (Thank God for cell phones! They make early pick-ups infinitely easier to arrange.)

All is in God’s hands. I must say, my physical problems in this journey have nurtured an amazingly close sense of dependence on Him, which in turn has done wonders for the peace of my heart and soul.

I think of you all, often, and with love.