The Endless Winter

Can’t help but find a bit of irony in that I just left San Diego in December, a city that never snows, to record breaking snowfall in New England.  It’s been a long, harsh, unforgiving, and at times perilous winter but it’s impossible not to appreciate the absolute beauty of it.  
There are two photos nearby that embody this dichotomy – the first is of while taking the boys out for their evening constitutional, shadowcasting.  Nothing more than a rustic rotted out fence and a distant light but witness the symmetry and the simplicity.  

The other photo is of Hudson trying to take a piss in the several feet deep of spongy soppy messiness that makes it difficult for him postoperative.  I’m sure there’s a greater metaphor here but right now it’s buried beneath two tons of snow.  It’s been so unending here we’re about to make Winterfell look like the Sahara.  

He’s recuperating super well, we slept on the kitchen floor last night but brother, can you spare some green grass?  
YBD’s Notes 1:  Didn’t post it here but Hudson had a mast cell tumor removed yesterday.  Off social media sites for a spell to prepare for the upcoming filming for the interview.  To get updates here’s the link: Puppy Up Foundation
YBD’s Notes 2: Ginger called me up this morning to complain about the 3 inches of snow they got in TN but in all fairness, she has a Doxie and I’m sure his pecker is snowier than Hudson’s.  

#NothingElseMatters

After pitching a tent in a grove of Eucalyptus Trees along the Elkhorn Slough of the Pacific Coast Highway just outside of Moss Landing – there’s a video somewhere about it- , a song got caught in my head and like some things on our journey, I didn’t understand its significance at that moment.  
Invariably life is reduced down to one step, one song, one mile, one moment, and even just a snuggle, all of which inspire us.  To keep going.  
Nothing Else Matters  
The more ironical thing is – I’m not sure if I ever heard this song before the slough so why did it resound relentlessly in my tent that night?   
Maybe the love of a child never needs a rationalization no matter the kind and that’s the message.

Does Anything Else Matter?

#NotMyPresidentDay

It’s president’s day but I’m in no mood for celebration.  
Oh it’s not because I’m not a patriot as I believe in values like freedom and equality – all of the things that we’ve fought for as a country. That I’ve walked for.
But we have a fight of a different kind now and we’ve been abandoned by our leaders.     
This blog is about the funding for the National Cancer Institute (NCI), this government’s, our government’s, decade long disregardment of, what the World Health Organization called the deadliest disease in 2010 and nothing else.   
Let’s take a look at the numbers.  They represent the total budget of NCI in billions of dollars.
2000 $3.3
2001 $3.8
2002 $4.2
2003 $4.6
2004 $4.7
2005 $4.8
2006 $4.8
2007 $4.8
2008 $4.8
2009 $5.0
2010 $5.1
2011 $5.1
2012 $5.1
2013 $4.8  
Let me give you some context.  This past fiscal year, the current administration earmarked $6.3 billion for Ebola virus research, a disease that affected, what, 1 or 2 people in the US and yet 1/2 of all men and 1/3 of women will be diagnosed with cancer. Nevermind the 2-4 million dogs that develop the same types of cancer every year. Why?
But I get it – it’s politically expedient. Ebola grabs headlines.  
On my first walk, I met with a few legislators and lobbyists and what they said was, ‘Great cause, just get a spokesperson and a celebrity around it and then we’ll listen.’ And so I walked the entire expanse of the West Coast in search of someone who would stand up. No one did.  
Even though celebrities talk about how devoted they are to animal causes.  
In my little world of walking 4k miles for this cause, you get tired of those that just talk and talk
which is why I’ve walked the walk. No one has the right to present themselves as a dog lover unless they stand up to the number one killer of dogs. Cancer.  
I return to DC in June without a celebrity or a spokesperson.   I am no longer a naif.  Having witnessed all of the death I have from cancer I will stand up and be heard.

Reflections on 4000 Miles

Divers have to decompress before resurfacing and the greater the depth of the dive the longer the decompression. I’ve pretty much been unplugged and down and out right disconnected since the completion of the West Coast Walk because I needed to.  
But I haven’t just been making angels in the tons of snow that’s blanketed CT – tho Hudsy and Nanners (nice snow stache BTW) have – I’ve been deep in reflection on the enormity my accomplishments but more importantly how to tell it.  The right way.  
The story’s the thing.  
Beginning March 16th, the 7th anniversary of the start of the first walk, I’ll be posting a seven part interview with Yer Big Dog wherein which I will talk not only about the great and the glory of this grand adventure but the trials and tribulations, too.  From the fantastic people we’ve met on our path to the fantastical things we’ve experienced.  
And we’re making it interactive.  I’ve gotten thousands of questions over the expanse of our journey and haven’t always been able to answer all of them so also we’re opening this up to you.  If you have something you’d like to personally ask YBD, send me an email by Feb 15th.  Not via FB or TW or in a comment here.  Hopefully we can get it and we’ll try our best because I have a lot to say.  Over 4,000 miles and 1,044 days, I’ve walked the walk now it’s time to talk the talk.  #4000miles

#GoFuzzybuttsGo

Twelve days til touchdown in San Diego.  We made it to LA and ironically, we’ve had only four rains days the entire West Coast walk, through Washington, Oregon, and Northern California and the week we arrive in LA, we’re greeted by a monsoon.  
Completely drenched in Malibu and now navigating around mudslides and flooding, we’re making our way through the 75 mile swath that is the LA area.  
Still, we’ve been trudging onward in the dreary drizzly, record breaking rainstorm sharing the message and spreading holiday cheer, the nearby pic was walking on Rodeo Drive, 
We’re on schedule to walk the final mile to the Mexico border Sunday December 14th and our friends are making final plans for the day’s events.  Between now and then we have a couple of events planned leading up to the final mile:  
Saturday Dec 6th.  4-6PM.  The Shore Break Hotel. For details, 714-465-4528.  
Tuesday Dec 9th. 2-4PM. VMSG. 31896 Plaza Dr. San Juan Capistrano.  
It’s been great having folks coming out and walking with us on our final stretch. To find out where you can join us for a mile or a day on our historic trek, the following sites will be posting our locations: 
www.facebook.com/PuppyUpFoundation
www.2dogsAgainstCancer.com
Or on my Instagram – 2dogs2000miles.  And on Twitter hashtag #GoFuzzybuttsGo

Scenes From the Roadside

We’ve encountered many curiosities on the road and these are just some of them:

I’ll start out with the crazy and curiously artistic:

L
Longview WA.  Is this an homage to Daisy Duke?  

Off the Old PCH, we saw this curious crammed down version of the statue of Liberty but even though it overlooks the Pacific rather than the Atlantic it’s still so inspirational.

The Bizarro 

(Left) Brony Pony?

(Right)  Sculpture in Vancouver WA

Decorative Truck in Milwaukee WA

Untouched

I’ve got one more night in this hotel until we start the next leg of the journey to 20 and up into the mountains and my thoughts return to High Street.

I almost got hit by oncoming traffic like a half dozen times and I do not exaggerate here.  I took this photo of a warning sign about falling rocks and I was like, screw that, beware of the rocks in the heads of the drivers coming down this mountain.

There was one driver who came around a hairpin curve texting and she came within inches of hitting me.  And I swore to the top of my lungs at her.  And then came the voice from up high.  

——–

‘Hello’  

Shaking, almost pasted against a rock wall in hesitation to continue up this mountain, I looked up and there was this old guy calling out to us.  ‘I saw you on TV’, he said.  ‘I was worried about the dogs’.

‘You and me both’ I thought to myself unsure how to respond or what to say to this godlike figure although his Lebowski-esque attire didn’t fit the whole supreme being image in my head.

‘Is it always this bad on this road?’ I inquired hoping for a hail mary.

‘Yep’.

——–

Don’t Should Me

‘You should’ve taken 7th Street’, he answered.  I’m a poker player and there’s always a 4th and 5th street bet that you called or should have laid it down but when you’re in a hand, you’re down in it.   And that’s where we were.

Ginger Morgan, the Director of our foundation, taught me that lesson.  There is no ‘should’ in life.  And I thought about that after almost getting killed on High Street.

I thought alot about why.  Why put myself and moreover and more importantly the lives of my boys at risk?

——–

‘Do you need help?’

The old man asked me. ‘No I don’t’, I replied.  And I lead my boys up to the top of the mountain unscathed and untouched.

Oregon Ho

A Gathering of Pyrs Is?
We call a group of geese a gaggle.  Of turkeys a rafter.  Quite appropriately enough, vultures are a committee.  And beavers are a lodge.  These things I thought of during Walk 1.  
So when Hudson Indy and I were met on border crossing day by a gathering of Pyrenees from the local club, I wondered what to call them.* 
Thanks to the Columbia Cascade club for coming out last Saturday and cheering us across into our second state.  
The ‘Interstate’ or I-5 bridge into Portland looked intimidating at first since it’s a vertical lift draw bridge and the two that were impassable on our first walk were of similar construct.  The steel grating of those in Baltimore and Philadelphia scared the hell outta the boys but this footbridge was all concrete so we crossed over the Columbia River into Oregon and it was a good day.  
——-
The Garden of 10,000 Roses
The following day one of our supporters in the area took us to one of the most stunning and spectacular places I’ve ever been.  Portland’s International Rose Test Garden.  
It’s a testing ground for new varieties and part of the much larger more expansive Washington Park that spans over 400 acres.  What’s noteworthy here, aside from the sheer beauty of this place and that it should be a destination point for all, is that my father has had a lifelong passion for roses and on Father’s Day I would find myself here.  
——–
Washington in The Rearview
Our first full day of walking in Oregon, from the Delta East Park to south of the Ross Island Bridge, we had two complete strangers came up to us and asked what we were walking for and if the dogs needed any food or water.  And that was two more than the entire state of Washington.  
I must admit I’m bumfuzzled at that reality especially since, well, that’s never happened to the fuzzybutts in any state ever.  Granted, the Evergreen State has countless homeless and our best guess is that, unfortunately, we were just being bunched up in the fungible forsaken even though I carried a banner that said, ‘#PuppyUp’.  
In an area that’s home to such tech giants as Microsoft and Amazon, the sign would be clear that it’s a cause. So in Tacoma we decided to amend the sign nearby.  But the folks got the dimensions wrong and I had to use my sports tape to make it fit in my backpack.**
Surprisingly, still bupkis.
——–
We Walk On 
Washington is a state of inestimable beauty and memorable but in our short time in Oregon we’ve made so many new friends and thus far it’s been a great experience.  
At present, we’ve made it to Salem and about 37 miles from Corvallis at which point, we’ll pickup Highway 20 and head over the Coast Mountains to the PCH for the remaining 4.5 months of the walk.  
——–
*YBD’s Notes:  A Gathering of Pyrenees should be called a Preponderance I think.  

**YBD’s Notes:  This was no small feat but we’ve since had the sign cut down and re-grommetted (is that even a word?).  Going forward, this is OUR sign.  

The Cross

I just realized after talking to one of my girlfriends that it’s father’s day.  
I’ve had my nose to the grindstone so to speak that I almost forgot.  This week is also the anniversary of the final mile in Boston, Indiana’s birthday, and 3 years since the death of my son, Murphy.  
Crossing over the Columbia into Oregon yesterday was more than just a milestone. What Stover, the well intentioned and seemingly genuinely interested reporter left out of his article was this:
This walk is all about the crossing and not just borders.  
It’s the cross I wear around my neck between the ashes of Malcolm and Murphy that doesn’t represent a religious symbol but a commitment.  
The symbolic representation of a cross can be found in every culture as a partnership and a promise. And, at times, a lean-to when you need it. 
It’s bridging the gap in understanding that cancer is a cross species epidemic. It affects all of us. Cancer. Touches. Everyone. isn’t just a tagline or some cutesy saying I came up with.
I was stopped recently and asked, ‘What type of cancer are you walking for?’.  Isn’t it interesting that question?  That this disease so subdivides us?  
Dog cancer.  Pet cancer.  Canine cancer.  Human cancer.  Melanoma, lymphoma, breast cancer, liver cancer, prostate cancer….
The most important takeaway point from Stover’s interview was this – the microscope does NOT discriminate.  
I didn’t really know what this second walk was really about until now.  I had an inkling and an instinct.  But now I know.  And on this father’s day, I give thanks to my father for imparting to me a thirst for knowledge and understanding.  And my mother who helped me cross that with faith and belief.  
No matter how many bridges I cross I miss my sons.  Malcolm and Murphy.  

Month One

You cannot move forward by looking behind*
——–
One of the funniest things we continually encounter thus far is walking to a hotel and after sharing our story they still ask for the make, model, and license plate of our car.  Irony is often scarce out here and you take it when you can get it.  
——–
I’m holed up in a hotel in Longview WA feeling pretty lousy so it’s an opportunity for me to reflect on our one month anniversary on the road.  
——–
Urban Sprawl 
It may come as a bit of surprise but city miles are much harder on us than the country and the stretch between Everett to way south of Tacoma was tough.  Elevated ambient temperatures, street detritus, miles and miles of monotonous strip malls, car lots, box stores, and blaring street sounds require a higher degree of focus. Plus, it’s boring for the boys and part of my job is keeping them engaged.  
I must admit a prior unfamiliarty with the precise use of  the word ‘sprawl’ until now and I have a greater appreciation for it.  So from Roy to Longview WA we’ve enjoyed the rural setting, though at the expense of cell service which is why posting has been sporadic. One bar.  No bar.  Two bars Go.  
——–
Tom Sawyer
Centralia WA was a weird kinda stretch that I still haven’t really processed yet.  It was like my past life converged in this previously unknown and unchartered part of the world in two ways.  (1) A high school band mates lives up here that I had lunch with and (2) A host home we stayed at reintroduced me to the band, Rush.   
It’s been years since I’ve listened to them and Tom Sawyer was exactly what I needed to hear.  The River. 
——–
The Columbia
Speaking of…  If you’re in the area, come out and join us in crossing the Columbia River into Oregon, our second state.  Saturday the 10th.  High noon.  At the intersection of West 6th and Columbia near Esther Short Park.  Hope the instructions are correct but go to the Puppy Up Foundation page to be sure.  
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*YBD’s Notes:  Kinda depends on your behind though.  
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