*I’m a little tired tonight to put any effort into writing something original so here are a few paragraphs from my Florida Trail book*
A short conversation with a group of fishermen also waiting the lightning out at the boat ramp let us know that their radio station had concurred with what we’d heard earlier–we should have already experienced the worst of the storm. We began our rainy, treacherous five-mile road walk down S.R. 60. Cars zoomed past for morning rush hour. This was a rural area so I couldn’t fathom where exactly all this traffic was coming and going, but both directions were heavy with vehicles.
An opening presented itself and we switched from the south to north side of the road as it seemed to present a wider berth from the cars, but that didn’t last long. When it appeared that oncoming traffic was reasonably far enough from us, we would walk alongside the white line on the road, on the tiny two-foot strip of pavement that was available. When cars approached closer, we jumped off the road, our legs becoming uneven as we walked on the slope of the grassy median. This method of walking continued for the entire five miles.
Less than a mile down the road the rain slowed to a sprinkle and then quit completely. Walking alongside traffic highlighted the absurdity of some drivers. Narrowly, we missed an idiot who’d passed another vehicle at the last possible minute before the passing lane ended. The car it had swerved around moved out of the way to avoid collision, towards us and the shoulder. For a few split seconds I imagined the results if the slick pavement had caused them to slide straight into us on the shoulder.
I did not like road walking.