Tim Blevins:  

merely to “win” it, and I felt called by it. Part of the attraction was to actually WALK across the United States! Daydreaming in high school, I would imagine pioneers traveling the Santa Fe Trail (alias Blue Ridge Blvd). Deciding and preparing to do the GPM were strangely easy. That story is too big to tell here, but I and a few hundred other people actually DID spend most of 1986 walking from LA to DC. It was an experience and adventure beyond telling. Since the GPM, life is more varied, less remunerative, and accompanied by priceless blessings; among them a wonderful wife and daughter, a home like I used to dream about, and surprises like a trip to Paris (our flight to England/Ireland got cancelled, and the fastest “standby” route was via Paris. Oh darn!). Post-GPM jobs include resident caretaker (of a church-owned house used for weddings, meetings, etc.), field research (epidemiological), technical writing, retail data collection, laboratory custodian, teaching adults to read, chemical handler (I'd “aliquot the aliquots”), math tutor, textbook reader (for blind students), delivery routes, and junior high school teacher. Fond memories of former classmates/shipmates and our real (or imagined) affection grow more tenacious over time, especially when reminded of our individual mortality. On March 19th, 2005, I took my daughter to the same special place where (in 1969) I first swam in the ocean, aiming to make her first ocean swim equally magical. My first time was under a perfect full moon, while this day we had a brilliant, sunny afternoon. Everything went well, until returning to shore. I got caught in a “rip tide” and came too close to drowning. In fact, the ocean pulled my swim trunks right off me and I haven’t seen them since. I reached the beach wearing nothing but my wedding ring. I like to think my trunks are floating across the ocean and will wash up on some exotic beach. Meanwhile, I feel (not for the first time) as if I’m living on “borrowed time”.