I spent most of Sunday driving across the Allegheny Mountains, passing through rural villages and hollers. At times the sheer natural magnitude left me breathless. Mountains symbolize something bigger than ourselves. When I’m in their shadow, I’m left humbled. It helps me to realize how insignificant I am.

Along backcountry highways, I knew that here, many supported Donald Trump. It was also impossible not to notice numerous gun shops and signs trumpeting patriotism. Being on the road is a reminder that we are living in a collection of states where people hold contrary views, with little to bridge the divide. I’m not sure I see that story ending well.

This sign should read, “Trump Country.”

Passing through the land of guns, God, and glory.

Late in the afternoon, I found PA-641. This is the road where Mark began walking after crossing the river from Harrisburg. He stopped at The Healthy Grocer.

I was able to find a parking lot to leave my car and walk a ½ mile retracing Mark’s footsteps he left behind. It was a hot Father’s Day and the sun had heated up the pavement. My plan to walk barefoot briefly resulted in the bottoms of my feet being burnt. I could hear Mark’s voice chiding me. “Poor papa—he needs to leave the barefoot walking to professionals.” He’d have laughed at me, not in a malicious way, but in the good-natured way he reminded me not to take myself so seriously.

Mark was happy when he found this place (Day 033).

Usually on Father’s Day, Mark would call me later in the afternoon. No call would be coming, just like the year before. This will be Father’s Day here on out for me, without him.

Not only did I try to connect with Mark and his memory by walking (briefly) barefoot, but I decided to only eat foods similar to what he’d have been eating while on his walk.

I ended the day in Shippensburg. I’d found some Epsom salt to soak my feet. Sitting in my hotel room along the town’s Main Street, I made one concession on the food/drink end. Mark didn’t drink. But somehow, savoring my ice-cold Genesee, eating simple foods that Mark would have enjoyed sharing with me, felt right at the end of a long, emotionally-wrenching day. In many aspects, my experience approximated many of his nights, especially early in his trip. The exception is that I hadn’t spent 12 hours walking. Instead, I was out road-tripping in my own personal death machine.

What I ate on Sunday:

Black beans, baby carrots, bananas (2), an apple, salsa, roasted vegetables (purchased at The Healthy Grocer).