After virtually walking the Pennine Way, following Simon Armitage’s route from north to south—a rugged but manageable hike—I was ready for something longer, some magnificent digression that would last for years and encompass all the twists and turns of my imagination. I was ready for the walk of walks. Perhaps the Pan American Highway? A 30,000 mile trek on what is considered the longest road in the world would take me from Prudhoe Bay, Alaska, to Ushuaia, Argentina. But I would have to cross (virtually, of course) the dangerous Darién Gap, where the hazards are many and the comforts are few. As I walked south, I would likely meet brave people walking in the opposite direction who might question my sanity. And, most important of all, after a short (virtual) ferry ride, I would end up on Isla Grande de Tierra del Fuego, where Ushuaia is located. In other words, I would be many miles from home and way too old to even consider walking back. And I knew where I wanted to end up. Home.
Because I had already committed to starting from Prudhoe Bay, I decided to follow the first part of my original plan, walking to Fairbanks, Delta Junction, Whitehorse, and Edmonton, all places I had never actually seen in person. That part of the journey took almost two years, and for part of the time I was trudging in the vicinity of raging Canadian wildfires. I wasn’t there in real life, but I could almost smell the smoke.
Part two of my North American adventure has taken me from Edmonton to Calgary to Missoula to—finally a place I’ve actually visited!—Salt Lake City. From there I decided to trace, in reverse, the route of a Greyhound Bus trip that I took in my younger days. My first stop after Salt Lake would be Little America, Wyoming—truck stop, gas stop, rest stop. According to AI, Little America still exists and is a major travel stop on Interstate 80. It was a warm, sunny, gas-pump-filled apparition when I whizzed through on the bus in May of 1968. But during blizzard season, as Jean Shepherd reported in 1971 in an episode of his PBS show Jean Shepherd’s America, it can be a refuge, offering food, safety, and a bed for the night. (You can watch the whole episode here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcMD14tZu10. The Little America section starts at 13:45.
My current adventure is virtual, and of course I can sleep in my own bed whether it snows or not. So, with fond memories of the (not-so-)wild Wyoming buffalo that I saw in 1968, I took a deep breath of (virtual) fresh Wyoming air and immediately set out for Cheyenne, Omaha, Iowa City, and points east.
So here I am on January 6, 2026, in two places at the same time: Chicago (my virtual location) and Ithaca (my home in real life). I am listening to the “stormy, husky, brawling laughter of Youth” and the “lifted head singing” and even the “magnetic curses” that Carl Sandburg immortalized in his poem “Chicago.” I am enjoying the tall buildings and the great art and especially the “Big Shoulders,” because they make me feel safe, even though in real life my trip is still far from done. Next on my itinerary are Cleveland, Horseheads, and finally home. I have only 673 more miles to walk. I will be home by my birthday, when perhaps there will be a cake.
I Never Meant To Sail So Goddam Far 