8/27: Boise, ID

Mike elected to stay in Boise until Saturday, and I was glad to hear it. They needed another day out of the car and that would provide a chance to get to know Ben & Brad a bit better. Besides, I was selfishly enjoying this new (to me) dynamic!

8/26: Boise, ID

Mike, Bobbie, and Ally returned from a quick but perfectly enjoyable visit to Bend and their plan is to return east as soon as tomorrow, depending on what I decide to do. I honestly don’t know what that will be. I’m inclined to stay and head toward Portland again; of course, there’s always something unresolved. I also could have them drop me in Cheyenne to hitch or catch a bus home, or suggest a return through Colorado where they could drop me in Denver.

8/25: Boise, ID

Dave worked a full day, but once he was home we embarked upon a remarkable chat concerning the results of one losing their religion or spiritual compass. Considering his background of renouncing Mormonism after climbing its ranks, Dave has a rare, fascinating, and original perspective and personal experience with it. I explored how my loss of "trust-in-the-compass" coincided with the negativity I seem to attract lately; at least since the Chris rants of February, if not all the way back to Andre. The conversation eventually turned to forgiveness (or lack of); giving people, myself included if not first, permission to be, as Rael put it, flawed.

8/22-24: Boise, ID

Our "coincidental" timing was remarkable. We arrived at Lynette's at about 11pm, literally a few short minutes before their cab, and after 36-hours in the car, proceeded to fight car lag while exchanging enthusiastic greetings and reacquainting ourselves.

8/17-22: New York to Idaho- Doug

In a shitty spot and contemplating camping possibilities as the sun fell, I was having no luck when a 4-door Toyota with Vermont plates appeared out of nowhere, abruptly pulled over on the narrow shoulder, and waved me on. When the ragged driver asked where I was going I said, “Toward Erie” and when he shockingly replied, “no problem” I suddenly knew I would make it to meet my brother and, barring any ridiculous complications, Idaho and Oregon. Aim for Maine, land in Oregon? I am the sharpshooter.

Doug was quite tall, about my age, had longish curly hair, famiiar cheap monotone clothes, and judging by all the stuff, which included a large cardboard box full of open food cans laid out buffet-style, was traveling somewhere distant and gave an initial hippie impression. That generalization was woefully mistaken, but he would prove to be a powerful reminder of our ingrained, unavoidable duplicity. Doug had the rare combination of being supremely arrogant, full of anger, and at the same time painfully awkward. Assessments aside, it quickly became obvious that Doug was brilliant and suffered from the stereotypical social deficiency that often comes along with it. In many ways, he reminded me of a genetically engineered splice of a Slabber and the guy from Big Bang Theory!

2010: The Beginning

With most of the rest of the world, 2010 began quietly for us in Boise. Benefiting from her nearly 12-hours of sleep, Lynette was up and off to the Dilliards sale by 7am while the rest us were still snug in our beds... with Rum Runners and Champagne preparing to beat on our heads. I say "our" clearly knowing that I was likely the sole sufferer not named Mike or Lynette. I need the illusion-of-companionship at times. That being said, Shalain too was unable to function due to a massive hangover. I can't even fathom how she drinks like she does. Perhaps a meeting is in order?

2009: The End.

With Shelly & Lynette

The 950-mile drive from Santa Fe to Boise was a mix of mostly state and US highways that took us overnight through Pagosa Springs, Durango, and Cortez in SW Colorado then into SE Utah near Canyonlands and Moab early Wednesday morning. By midday, we were snaking thru the Wasatch Mountains, Salt Lake City, then finally into Idaho by late afternoon.

I knew how beautiful southern Utah's terrain was, having driven it in '05, but had never seen the Wasatch between I-70 and Salt Lake on US-6. I hate to admit it, especially after regularly mocking Utah, but there's something alluring about the Land of Mormon. Salt Lake City's skyline is more powerfully dominated by mountains than any other I've seen; much more imposing due to proximity than even Denver's.

Inspired by the HBO series Big Love (and boredom), I spent a good deal of time playing ad executive; thinking of slogans I could sell to Utah and Mormon fundamentalists like Roman Grant. Picturing the billboards, magazines, and radio ads, I laughed so hard I nearly lost continence. Shalain? Not so much. Meanwhile, Joseph Smith's ghost likely sensed my attitude toward his state's fledgling theocracy and, wearing no magic undies to protect me, I believe he clearly conspired with Brigham Young to prevent weatherly cooperation. We had snow nearly the whole way from Northern New Mexico to Salt Lake City. What should have been 19-hours total was already 21 when we only reached Idaho- still a solid 3-hours from Boise.

I soon found myself once again on I-84 at the infamous Albion exit... for the third time in less than 18-months. The stretch of road between Pocatello and Boise is approaching I-40 in familiarity... second only to the now-tiresome I-25! I pointed out to a politely-interested (or keenly disinterested?) Shalain some of my little landmarks from 2008 before we pulled into Boise around 8pm or so Wednesday night... exhausted... but glad we had not waited until Wednesday morning to leave, as was our original plan. We were in town early enough to get (re)acquainted AND get a good night's sleep for New Year's Eve. Despite the weather and my initial misgivings as to its wisdom, in retrospect the beginning of this winter adventure really did work out perfectly.

Coming into Lynette & Dave's subdivision naturally invoked a flurry of Warm Fuzzies from September, and it again occurred to me that this was going to be the first time either Shelly, Lynette, Dave, or anyone here had seen me out of travel mode. The last time I had seen Lynette & her family, Chris and I were strapping on our packs and heading down a barren US-20 toward Caldwell. Shalain's predicament wasn't lost on me; she had heard much about my drama's characters, but had yet to actually meet any of them. Now, she was about to be baptized by fire meeting nearly all of my new family at once! I knew they were curious about her too: "How does she put up with you doing this?" was something I was asked 100 times over the summer!

Lynette came out to meet us walking up to the door, and it was as though I had never left. I gave her a big hug, quickly introduced Shalain, then strode to the door to give Shelly a hug. Again: like I'd never left. I had to remind myself that it had been six-months since I had seen Shelly, and nearly four since Lynette. SIX MONTHS? Unreal. Ben & Brad were also there as were Dave's kids, Amanda, Mike, and Steph. The same cast as September. I kept telling Amanda & Mike I won't know what to do if I ever visit while they're at home in California. I'd miss 'em.

Now, as I mentioned, I was exhausted from the drive and lack of sleep in the days prior to leaving Santa Fe. I blame my new supplements but whatever the reason, this fatigue led to one of the goofiest and nearly most awkward moments... ever. As I was introducing Shalain to everyone, I was working very hard to keep names straight. I know everyone quite well, so normally: not a problem at all. Tonight? A slight problem! For a split-second, I lapsed Dave's name! I'm NOT proud of this, nor do I find it particularly flattering. I mention it only to submit to my sentence inside The Cone of Shame. In my defense, I was so tired that basic recall had begun to fail, and I KNEW it before hand. My radio background spared me the total in-the-moment humiliation in that I know to THINK AHEAD while speaking to be certain of what spews from my mouth. What was seen to unknowing eyes probably resembled Todd being a smartass... but I had to ask myself 3x if I got it right: "DAVE, right?? NOT DOUG? NOT DREW? Fuck! I'm losing my mind!" Sorry, Dale. My shame is everlasting.

A good night's sleep worked wonders for New Year's Eve. Lynette & Shelly took Shalain shopping while Drew(?) & I hung around the house. He had gotten a telescope for Christmas and was learning how it worked, and after he showed me some of their home improvements, he brilliantly articulated something I had been struggling with for a month. It was something to the effect of: the more you're around family that you get along with and care about, and begin to have positive drama-free experiences, the more you want it. It took awhile for that to settle in and I'm not sure if he was speaking from my perspective, his, or Lynette's but it didn't matter; he hit on a significant portion of my drive to get here.

Going back to August/ September there are two things about Dave, among others: he's insightful, and has a way of getting to the point and simplifying things with a minimum of words. The first I respect. The second I admire because it's something I struggle with. I've become quite fond of "that husband of hers," and will be quite certain to challenge Ward & The Hens on their chosen scapegoat. Oh! my silliness! Ward & The Hens! Sounds like a Dukes of Hazzard spinoff. Or, Hugh Beaumont porn. Consider it trademarked; my intellectual property.

From there, Dave cracked open a new can suggesting that when I'm "done with this," Shalain and I move to Boise. Shelly intends to move back there from Ohio sometime over the next year, so considering how little I like/ much I hate Santa Fe, it's worth considering. In fact, back in October Shalain and I discussed moving to Portland in order to be closer to everyone. I cannot stress enough how foreign it feels having, "move CLOSER to family" rattling in my skull!

The positive energy between Shalain, Shelly, and Lynette was immediately obvious, and continued the "at-ease" I had felt in September; it was obviously not a fluke. All was well. All that was left to do Thursday... was ring in 2010! Food was prepared, and more importantly Dave was mass-producing his famous Rum Runners.

**Quick story about the Rum Runners that I've yet to tell: These concoctions are so good, that while at another friend Dave's, the harbormaster in Portland, I was taking pictures of a yacht entitled the 'Rum Runner' in order to pay homage to Sir Fogg's Wagon-Killer Brew. I was literally taking this picture when Andre and Cody sailed the MasterCraft in, and the Portland Adventure began. They're just that good!**

Stephanie and her boyfriend, Stewart, joined us as did Lynette & Dave's neighbors, Mike, Wendy, and Bailey. The drinks flowed and the food fed as we played a game of Apples to Apples before taking the party across the street for a game of Rock Band on X-Box. Having been deeply scarred by drunken karaoke a decade ago, I abstained. But, my sisters and girlfriend are apparently repressed rock stars. Never shy, Lynette took to the role of what can only be described as a cross between Belinda Carlisle and Axl Rose: singing the Go-Go's Our Lips Are Sealed while yelling at her band to, "get it together." Video exists. It's taken great restraint to keep it contained, and is now secured within a bank vault in Manhattan. Shalain has applied great pressure to release it to the world, but despite that I stand firm. Honor me.

This reminds me: I also repelled great temptation induced by Stewie, Steph's boyfriend. He spent the evening trying to coerce me to smoke and break my noble & righteous vow, but verily! I steadfastly refused. Despite slanderous claims that it was I asking for a cigarette, I am proud to say that due to my steel resolve in rebuffing The Stew, I have proudly hit the 8-week mark smoke-free. Also, a new hand-to-hand challenge from Young Ben was accepted, and while details are hazy at best, I'm happy to say that the young apprentice was once again easily vanquished by Ye Strong Arm of Errantry, again despite despicable, vile rumors to the contrary. Honor me! (When exactly did I become Lancelot?)

Stewart & Steph

While Axl and her Go-Go's were reminding us all of garbage bag attire, Dave was taking odds on whether she'd see midnight. He wasn't convinced. At 9:30, she was a rock 'n roll tour-de-force; there was nothing stopping her and it became clear to me that Lynette and I could be trouble if the sun and stars happened to align beneath the banner of Bacardi or Blue Moon. By 11:00 she was in the fetal position- at home, asleep. I shook my head out of an odd sense of genetic familiarity, laughed, gave her a peck on the cheek, and wobbled back over to the Snyder's to welcome in 2010.

Shelly & I

As the new decade commenced, poor Mr. Snyder or someone mentioned politics to me... while I was drinking. Yeeaaaah... That should trigger Civil Defense Warnings. Eh, Chris? I'm surprised Shalain didn't just bust a champagne bottle over my head to quiet me, but some of her anecdotes involve Brad and Bailey (Mike's daughter) counting how many times I used the f-word. It appears that Mike, Wendy, and I were probably in agreement on most everything, but that's never stopped me from drunken-arguing before! Right, Chris? Dave hit it on the head the next morning, gleefully telling me that he "saw a side of me he'd never seen" in this drunken, nonsensical, circular political "conversation!" Guilty. But, I think it was a backhanded compliment; he seemed to imply that I usually make sense! I've intentionally tried to avoid the political/ social discussions around these folks in an effort to benefit them from the mistakes of/ with others! Right, Chris? But dammit... sometimes that ranting little fucker breaks free. How do you discipline an unruly, chemically dependent pundit-child? I honestly have no idea how long Mike, Wendy, and I stumbled around inside the politics/ religion (that too *cringe*) maze. I do recall having a terrific time, and considering Mike accepted my Facebook friend-request, I guess I didn't piss him off too much. That's a blessing... and always a good sign. Not all my acquaintances, or even friends, survive these! Right, Jason?

Over the last couple weeks of '09, and as midnight approached, I thought back to last January several times- when Chris and I were pondering what we thought the year would look like. From NYE '09 in Denver to NYE '10 in Boise, 2009 was exactly what it should have been, and more. I don't know what I would have changed, other than the distancing of Pam and not meeting Skip. I do regret the faded relationship with Pam in the grand scope because we are closely connected whether we like it or not. Nothing can change that. And, Mike's enough of a brother!


2009 in a nutshell:

- The Veggie Bus
- Kim and the Cops in Tennessee
- Trent and Megan in Chesapeake Beach, MD
- Chris and I making our way by foot and thumb from DC to Lewes, DE
- The Beach in New Jersey
- The Corbin Cafe
- New York City
- Massachusetts to Michigan with Stacey.
- Meeting and spending most of June with Shelly, not to mention meeting my brother Mike & his daughter Ally, Ben & Brad, Travis, seeing my father for the 2nd time AND reconnecting with all my friends in Michigan after 10-15 years. Maybe the most relentlessly intense 5-weeks of my life.
- The week at the Iowa 80 & King Dirk.
- Learning about and processing Dennis's death. The eternal 5-hour ride.
- Devils Tower
- Leslie & Carthage, SD
- Joel, Don, Grand Forks, Williston ND
- Meeting Lynette, Dave, Mike, Amanda, & Steph in Boise
- Andre
- Port Townsend
- Meeting Amber
- Housesitting, selling the car, and PROCESSING PORTLAND
- Quitting smoking
- New Year's in Boise

And, this is just the inadequate cliff-notes version. Thanks to Chris, Bobby, Devin & Leif, Brian & Joey, Gus, Lauren, Mandela, Cody, Wendie, Katie, Fast Joe, and everyone else who made 2009 what it was! I wish I could list everyone, and as usual I wish I would have stayed in touch with more people. Maybe next year?

Wendy, Lynette, Dave, & Bailey

NYE Snowstorm

9/7- 9: Caldwell, ID- The Dalles, OR

Waking up Labor Day Monday, it was increasingly clear that crossing the desert, potentially on foot, to get toward Bend, OR was neither desirable nor beneficial. Chris and I made our way back to a Stinker gas station we'd passed a mile back and that had been closed the night before where we could get coffee, and sort thru it from there.

It was a quick conversation. I was in no way compelled along Chris' path, even though I still had no idea where I WAS being driven. I just KNEW instinctively it was NOT there. This was a big deal. We had learned our lessons from May and June, and were not going to repeat these mistakes. We had come to the conclusions that it was imperative that we stay on our own personal paths; not falling victim to the idea of "partnership." I had written, sometime around our split in Omaha, that I needed a return to my 2008 mindset. As soon as we separated, and after the intense period in Santa Fe, I was able to do exactly that. It sustained me through Wyoming, the Dakotas, Montana, and Idaho, & as a result this supposed "secondary" phase of 2009 has since exceeded the "primary!" this is not "coincidence, but rather a direct result of traveling solo. The fruits of following my own compass rather than attempting to incorporate and compromise. "Go on your adventure. And go alone." I wish I could remember the author.

The Stinker was a colossal fork in the road, but one with an equally massive arrow! This decision would provide huge rewards very soon, although of course I had no idea at the time. The fact that there was minimal struggle, first in the reading then in the following of signs, in retrospect, is very encouraging. I would also be handed another lengthy "Sit Down and Shut Up" exercise that upon completion... again... would blatantly and immediately itself! We shook hands and wished each other luck. Chris' ultimate destination was Port Townsend, WA so we kept open the idea of meeting in Portland. With that, he was off on his adventure into Oregon.

Now, what the hell was I supposed to do!

I figured that, with I-84 nearby, I could take some time to figure it out and in the meantime try to get to US-95 in Fruitland as I was considering a change in course toward Winnemucca, Nevada. I was immediately offered a ride half of the 30-miles there by a young kid named Jason, but I didn't like the sound of the drop off, and felt compelled to remain at the Stinker to charge batteries and gather thoughts. A couple hours later, I wandered up to I-84, set up camp, and thus begins the next "Sit Down & Shut Up" period!

I spent the rest of the afternoon on the ramp next to a fireworks store, then as evening approached, decided to relocate to the next exit about a mile away. Taking the adjacent old US-30, I spent the rest of Monday evening sitting, listening to Mp3's, and thinking. I was oddly content! In no rush whatsoever, despite Chris' repeated mentioning of a "Tortoise & the Hare" race. This reminded me of someone revving their motor at a stop light, and when they peeled out, just sitting there watching them. If he wanted to run... let him!

Monday night was spent behind sagebrush next to the exit ramp, and Tuesday began a reminiscing tour of 2008. I finally got my ride to Fruitland with an unnamed flatbed driver, and after a fast, familiar re-visit, was picked up by another Jason who was on his way to Ontario, OR to be drug tested, as part of his parole. He was quite cool, and made it clear that "he" had yet to be drug tested!Ontario had an odd, ominous vibe from beginning to end. There had been a roving band of vagabonds who had been starting fights and ripping off the Pilot station, so it was essential to keep my eyes open. I was also sharing the ramp with a drunk couple, so by the time Wade stopped and offered a ride to Baker City, I was more than happy to go.

Wade was quite interesting. He was a rancher who lived in the mountains above Baker City, and quite religious. But, he was also open minded. We had a terrific conversation about our beliefs, and it reminded me a tiny bit of Randleman in that we both knew we were talking about the same things, just using different terminology. The ride was quick, and after we chatted for another 15-minutes outside the truck stop, I was quickly back to the ramp to try to get to La Grande before dark. The sun was setting, so I was beginning to scope out places to sleep when Jeff pulled over. He was on his way home to La Grande, and was also one of the coolest rides to date. Just a great guy to talk to! I wished that La Grande was a bit further away, or that he was heading to The Dalles!

By La Grande, I was a bit creeped out by the '08-familiarity, so I asked Jeff to drop me at the Flying J on the far east end of town, to avoid a complete repeat of my La Grande- Fruitland day last summer. This, as it turned out, was ill-advised. Despite the truck stop, the ramp had little traffic. I had begun feeling an odd compulsion to see The Dalles, so I made my sign, but after a slight and futile effort, I returned to the Flying J for the buffet, to charge the phone and continue updating Boise. I did meet a trucker who offered a helluva ride; to Albuquerque!

After a night spent behind the trucks, Wednesday began much the same way Tuesday ended: not getting a ride. The weather was beautiful and I had vowed the night before not to sit there long, after realizing the error of the Flying J. To correct it, I made the surprisingly quick 5-mile walk into the heart of La Grande, and began to see the friendly and familiar sights. I considered spending the whole day there, but felt pushed to the I-84 ramp, where I had launched after the freight train in '08. This was the spot where my love for interstate hitching hatched.

Once there, I didn't even have time to light a cigarette; I almost instantly found myself in another pickup bed. Mark was on his way to Eugene and was offering a ride all the way to Portland. I enjoy the back of pickups on hot days, and spent the trek across the Blue Mountains there before, once through Pendleton, he decided I was no threat and invited me up front. I learned that he was up on "Menacing" & weapons charges, and going to Eugene for a court date! Great! He spent what seemed like an hour professing his innocence, then giving me the tour- guide treatment as the landscape changed and we entered the Columbia River Gorge area; some of the most beautiful landscape I've ever seen. I liked Mark, but he was a bit of a drain and my urge to see The Dalles was increasing the closer we came. To his surprise, I asked him if he'd let me out there, and I was soon unloading next to Columbia River at Riverfront Park.

I had seen the Gorge under a moonlit sky from last year's freight train, and knew it was gorgeous. The Dalles had stuck in my mind, but it made no logical sense to disembark here, rather than in Portland. I kept hearing "Sit Down & Shut Up!"

So I did...

9/6: Boise- Caldwell, ID

Chris and I had grand plans of being on the road early Sunday, and beginning a kind of reunion adventure west. Of course, plans are ridiculous, as I keep saying and eventually will realize. I was honestly in no hurry whatsoever. I was putzing around pretending to pack, while in reality I was enjoying a final, very cool day with Lynette and her family. Morning became mid-afternoon, and suddenly we found ourselves seated around the table feasting on delicious pork with the entire Fogg clan. It was a perfect ending to a perfect week.

As 5pm approached, Chris was itching to get moving. I sensed some very familiar, and foul vibes that began to stink of Michigan. He tried very hard to conceal his it, but a thespian he is not! I began to believe that re-visiting Spring was ill-advised. When Lynette invited me along to gather school supplies, I accepted. This was the last day I was there, we had a good moon to walk by, and besides: Chris was free to exert his sovereignty, and leave whenever he wanted. I silently refused to sacrifice precious time at Lynette's in order to accommodate his personal urgency to continue on. As always, there was no animosity involved, it just was matter of quietly saying, "In a hurry? Then... go." We had been here before.

The school supplies trip was short, and soon enough we were both packed, watered, and taking pictures in front of Casa deFogg. Ben wanted to visit a friend in Star, so Lynette offered to drive us down US-20 for a 10-mile head start. Brad stayed behind, so I gave him a big hug, and as Lynette, Dave, Ben, Chris and I drove away the realization that this visit had ended and that I was back on the road settled in. The reality followed shortly at a rural intersection on Hwy. 20/26. Lynette echoed Mike's sentiments exactly when he had dropped us off in Battle Creek: "I feel weird just leaving you here!" We laughed at the deja vu, and assured her that she was just playing by rules! Saying goodbye was tough, but light. Dave had an odd look on his face that I still haven't figured out, saying finally, "You two sure have some adventure in you." We all hugged, then as we crossed the road I watched the new family members drive off. I would miss Boise, but have some priceless memories, and will forever feel Bob Seger's "traces they left on my soul"... and I don't deal in melodrama!

I had yet to decide on a tactically specific course. Either way, the crossroad seemed to lie near the Oregon border in familiar territory. Fruitland, ID and Ontario, OR are places I had ventured through in 2008, and also relatively close to Chris' chosen US-20 that would take him toward Bend, OR. Neither of us knew rather anyone would stop for two apparent backpackers, so were very encouraged when, after 10-short minutes, we found ourselves in the back of a pickup heading to Caldwell, I-84, a Flying J... and a decision.

Following half a coffee, I ignored my Spidey Senses, deciding to bypass I-84 (and the obvious route toward Fruitland and Oregon) in favor of embracing adventure, a new method, and trying out my new boots. We headed directly into Caldwell so we could chat, reflect, and relive old times. We did exactly that as we made the unexpectedly long walk thru the heart of town and surprisingly found ourselves using Google Maps to find US-20.

Soon after dusk, we were descending a treacherous, steep 80 ft. concrete embankment beneath an overpass, walking Union Pacific train tracks into the back country, and feeling like the Intrepid Adventurers we fancied ourselves in the spring. Eventually, we were spit out onto US-20 near the I-84 interchange. We deduced that we had probably walked six miles... to progress three. That didn't bother me in the least. Chris and I had much to talk about; our conversations continue to evolve. We had both experienced much recently, and I noticed that our abstract ideas had much more personal- flavor to them with actual life beginning to enhance, and often even supplant, empty words as the primary fuel.

All was not well on the Vagabond Front, however. My conditioning became an issue. I was physically feeling the fact I had done no significant walking since April or May! My wind was fine, but endurance and muscle tone were not! Since Chris and I were contemplating an Eastern Oregon desert crossing, it was an acute concern. We knew from experience that tandem hitching is much more difficult. I was afraid that these grandiose notions, for me at least, were bordering on McCandless-esque Hubris. Plus, I had no beaming interest in Bend. I needed to consider things carefully.

A mile down US-20, away from I-84, I decided it would be wise to bed down for the night and think things through in the morning. I could honestly see no payoff in continuing this direction, but knew I tend to become a bit more negative when I am tired. We hopped a barbed wire fence into some ridiculously tall vegetation, with me destroying a pair of pants in the process, and I quickly dozed off to the sound of coyotes with a growing sense that this made no sense.

9/5: Boise, ID- Becoming Family

Saturday was the day the entire clan celebrated Robyn's birthday. Robyn is Dave's sister, and in accordance with Fogg tradition, a large birthday breakfast was planned at Cracker Barrel. Everyone was up and around by 9, and I was initially uncomfortable in tagging along, feeling a bit like dead- weight strapped to an already full breakfast wagon! When I timidly suggested that I may stay at the house to try to catch up on the blog, Dave was appalled. He went into Lawyerly Litigation Mode, and through some sort of bizarre cross examination, immediately isolated the core of my hesitation. Again, he would have none of my rationalization.

The way Dave had vehemently dismantled the notion of me skipping breakfast struck me as odd, and my instincts were solid. I decided, or so I thought, that a compromise was in order. After breakfast, I would accompany Lynette back to the house while the rest of the Foggs went to see District 9. As we were leaving Cracker Barrel, Dave told Lynette, "If he (me) gives you any shit, call me!" We had been playfully bantering back and forth for a couple days, so I figured it was just a wise crack. Again, I was wrong.

When Lynette pulled in to the Boise REI, I assumed she needed to pick something up for herself, Dave, or the kids. She then told me, in a teacherly, authoritative tone that after Dave had seen me gluing my shoes the day before, they had decided to get ME new boots. I had passively shown Dave where the heel had separated, then he and Lynette secretly conspired to fix that problem right after breakfast. Staying at home that morning would have thrown a big wrench in their plans! Dave had also, rightfully, deduced that I would have balked at the notion; thus the, "If he gives you any shit..." comment. I put up a short, weak, and pathetic resistance anyhow, but Lynette too would have none of it. I was outnumbered and overmatched. I was also floored, and almost speechless. Even beyond the mild structure failure, the boots I had been wearing had been a problem. They had caused the huge heel blisters in Maryland and New York State, and they could not be returned. A new pair from REI now meant that I could exchange these if they didn't work out, and more importantly, that I would NEVER need another pair of boots because of their return policy. Once the astonishment of the gesture wore off, I began to feebly try to make sure they new exactly what they had done for me. I don't think I quite articulated it, but I was beyond touched. I wish I was better equipped to show my gratitude.

This was a particularly special day from my perspective; the day that my long- held notion of separateness was crushed. Not through the simple spending of money, mind you, but by both Lynette and Dave tactfully forcing me to abandon juvenile, self- conscious assumptions that we would always be separate entities because we were not raised together. I'm not sure if it was intentional, but Lynette and her family took that antiquated, rotted fruit, and threw it out the window through simple acceptance, an absolute intolerance of drama, and a blunt, direct authenticity.

As I mentally prepared to end this incredible week- long visit, I was forced to reflect on the past few months, and what it takes to become a brother, as opposed to a "long lost" sibling. It's something I had managed to achieve with both Lynette and Shelly, but in very different ways. With Shelly, it was by sharing a very raw, personal experience and riding the ensuing emotional roller coaster together. Lynette and her family on the other hand metaphorically sat down that stubborn 10-year old Todd, and set things straight; but with actions and behavior that stood in stark contrast to those of The Hens. Words are powerful things and to the observant eye set standards and demand accountability. Long after the audible sounds have faded they continue speak; sometimes more loudly through the absence of accompanying action. Actions without the cliche', chest- pounding touting of intentions have the greatest effect. To quote a friend who, at this point I had yet to meet, "Shut up and make it happen."

Chris made his way back to Casa de Fogg, and we spent a nice evening just eating, and enjoying the busy, yet calm atmosphere. I began to see that I was going to be genuinely sad to leave Sunday...

9/4: Boise, ID- Colliding Bullets

Chris had left Denver on Monday afternoon and I had heard little about his progress, other than sporadic Facebook updates. As we learned in Maryland in April, he and I choose to travel in different ways. While technically hitching, he prefers to take less traveled roads, drawing from his walk when people would often just randomly stop and offer rides. I was curious as to how this would work for him, especially in the barrenness of western Colorado and Wyoming.

When I learned that by Wednesday, he was already in eastern Idaho, I was both astounded and happy for him. Since the Iowa 80, he had felt all along that we would meet in Boise. Now that I was encamped at Lynette's, this suddenly became an impending reality rather than an abstract thought. I began knocking on the metaphorical doors on Thursday evening, asking Lynette if he could stay for a night if/when he made it. She needed to discuss it with Dave, but thought it would be fine. But, as we then went about our nightly routine of Rumrunner chats, we both put it out of mind. I didn't think it would become pressing before Friday. I was wrong.

An hour after they went to bed, I received a call from an odd Utah number. It was Chris. He was in Mountain Home riding with a trucker... and an hour from Boise. This put me in a moderate bind. It was my own fault for not addressing this with Dave personally, and I didn't feel I could leave Chris to just sleep behind a strip mall. There was room on the sectional couch where they had set me up, and since it was off the garage, he wouldn't actually set foot in the house until someone knew he was there. Plus, he wasn't a complete stranger. He had spent most of June at Shelly's, and both Ben and Brad had met him in Michigan. I debated waking up Lynette and Dave to clear things, but decided against it. Their mad- schedule and obvious fatigue made sleep a valuable commodity. I'd guide Chris in by phone, put him in the X-Box room off the garage with me, and pray that on Friday no one was too upset.

The boys had no school Friday due to Labor Day, so I was frantically trying to figure out how to explain Chris' midnight appearance. I had told the boys on Thursday that he was nearby, so when Brad unexpectedly walked in to say good morning, he wasn't taken by complete surprise. It was more of a reunion than a shock. Brad suggested that Chris shower immediately; Dave would be more understanding of another stranger if he didn't bring the smell of road with him!

Chris and I then settled in on the back porch and chatted while awaiting Dave or Lynette's return. I was feeling like a nervous teenager when Dave got home from picking his youngest kids up at the airport. He was of course surprised to see another vagabond at his home, but after a stuttering explanation, I believe he took a measure of amusement in my pain as I feebly assured him that I was not trying to turn his home into Hotel Fogg! Dave then agreed, enthusiastically, that I was right NOT to wake them up, and all was well. He even offered Chris a place to stay if he needed one. Chris had however had made arrangements to stay at a hotel that his friend managed, so Dave instead played taxi driver and dropped him off there for the night. I initially thought Chris and I would set off together the next morning, with visions of Portland dancing in our heads. But, he had an opportunity to meet up with his friend's father on Saturday afternoon, and I wanted to try spend at least another day, since everyone would be there. Sunday, we decided, would be the day we set off continuing west.

Friday evening was spent doing the new-usual: chatting while getting ripped on Dave's Rumrunners. Our conversations continued to get a bit more intimate, as Lynette and I shared more about our pasts. I had at some point finally identified that familiar "smell." It was anger. I then began to approach what appeared to be its source, thus further understanding the semi-estrangement from her family while also feeling like a protective brother! Furthermore, the idea that I had indeed been "the lucky one" cemented in my mind. My life wasn't perfect, but no ones is, and I had dodged much larger-caliber emotional mortars. I was glad to see that we were forging a growing bond. We were alot alike, and as the weekend commenced, I could not imagine not having ever met her, but was still nagged by that frustrating question: Why so long? That question will burn in my belly for a long time.