A guy in a pickup truck pulled up beside me this morning. He said he'd seen me walking yesterday and asked me how far I'm going. He gave me 20 bucks and then sped off, yelling "Rock on, dude!" out the window.
That's the idea, at least. I'm walking westward from New York City for nine months or so.
If everything goes according to plan, I'll be in Oregon when the clock runs out.
If nothing goes according to plan, maybe I'll end up in Peru or Mongolia or Pennsylvania.
You can read all about the details of my trip
if you're so inclined.