Nick Walks America

Well folks, that's it, my adventure has come to an end. After 154 days, 12 States, 4 time zones, 3 pairs of shoes and 3,100 miles I've reached Santa Monica. No more early mornings, early nights, barkings dogs, crap drivers, camping in ditches, rubbish food or having to translate my Australian accent. Then again there's no more adventures, once in a lifetime experiences, sunsets and star-filled skies or the meeting of random amazing people. A very beautiful woman i met on my travels told me something that has stuck with me-laughter makes the soul prosper. So i hope I've brought a little bit of cheer into your lives and at the same time you've learned a little bit more about American from an unbiased british perspective, albeit a slightly crazy and twisted one who uses words that dont exist. Unlike Forrest Gump who was a mentalist, i will now be flying back to Atlanta after the finishing party on Wednesday, then going back to Blighty on the 1st December. A massive thanks to my kit sponsors Coleman Exponent and my bro Jez along with his wife Lacey, without whom i'd probably be panhandling in Kansas about now. In the next few days I'll upload the last few photos and let you know i survived the finishing party. Thanks for your support and keep in touch all, I might be emailing you to star in 'nickwalksamerica-the panto'.

Its been a pretty fantastico first 24 hours in LA and not a gun-battle in sight. I've been looked after and mothered by the fabulous Erika, a producer for Mix Magazine who made for great company and made me try carrot juice-the verdict's out. The frozen yogurt was a winner. In the afternoon Canadian Courtney and I had a front row seat at the Jay Leno show and we were in spitting distance of Keifer Sutherland no less. Barry Manilo was at his awful best and i was amazed how his suit managed to stay attached to his lifeless-rake of a body. He was entertaining to watch/laugh at though as were his slightly crazy fans. In the evening i was hosted by the lovely Jess, another producer although this time in the film industry. How to make a man feel small or what. After a stop up a big hill to gaze at the awesome city night-scene below we fulfilled another true American past time-eating at the Cheesecake Factory like fat bastards. All in all it's been a pretty darn good penultimate day, tomorrow should be a blinder.

if you've been trying to get a hold of me on my crappy AT&T cellphone, i can unfortunately only send/recieve texts, NO CALLS. I know, no talking, in America? Crazy. So drop me a text instead or if you have fat thumbs send me an email and I'll try my best to get back to you. Thanks! My number is 404 433 5899.

I've also uploaded more photo's into the Arizona folder and final California folder.

I now have a sumo-foot. But never fear, it's okay. This is no ordinary foot, this is a foot that has travelled continents, time zones, historic trails. it's stunk out entire eateries, caused me more grief than a herd of pre-menstrual woman, and has never quite grown to the same size as my other foot poor chat.

Apparently i have damaged my ligament/tendon, however with a bit of anti-inflammatory and some strapping I'm good to go. Im resting today in Kingman and will see what the story is tomorrow. Trust me if it gets any worse i will bloody well hop the rest of the way.

I've just managed to upload a load more photo's into the Arozona folder for your vewing pleasure. Unfortunately there aren't masses of reservation photos as i was trying to save my camera-phone battery for Monument valley, don't even get me started on that one. This old library computer doesn't like google maps so my map is a bit behind, but I'm in Seligman if you wanted to know....and it's hot....

One of the last things Candace said to me before leaving Durango was "At least a longboard is more romantic than a bicycle". If this is romance, then I'm in a pretty messed up relationship. It's been tough long days, and i have the cuts, bruises, sprains, ripped clothes and dents on my board to prove it. Balancing with a 30kg rucksack is near impossible on a board because the weight continually shifts. It didn't matter how tight I'd screwed everything on the board or how low i stood, if i did over 15mph the board would wobble and I'd eat gravel. Which i did a few times. Every day.

The Navajo Nation is a dangerous place, full of drunks, psycho's, backwards people who are best kept away from. That's the small-minded idiotic view of many people anyway and i wish i hadn't of listened to those numb-nuts, as my first hand experience is a great deal different. On the whole i found the Navajo to be welcoming, cheery and friendly. Yes i met a few drunks but they were so far gone and bemused by my longboard that they made great conversationalists. The rest of the world could learn a lot from the Navajo. They manage the best they can on the crappy land they were stuck with with little complaint. They have strong family ties, traditions and a sense of community which is hard to find anywhere else nowadays. Once i got over the being in a whole different country thing and the poor advice given to me before i entered the reservation, i felt a whole lot safer than in many other parts of the US I've been through. The Police weren't called because i walked past someones house, no-one tried to run me over or shout abuse at me or hassle me for change. I'm most annoyed because in Kayenta i tried to hitch a lift so i could make a detour to Monument Valley, somewhere I've been excited about going to since NYC. I've had over a dozen offers of lifts from locals in the reservation however the only people driving North from Kayenta were tourists. 4hrs trying and not one person stopped. To top it off, after angrily stomping back to the highway and sitting at the side of the road munching on a comfort king-size Snickers, a local Navajo woman stopped to offer me a ride West and gave me $5. God bless America indeed.

Anyway enough of the moaning. Apart from my newly found hatred for tourists(am i one though?!) i had a great time. There were more downhills than up which meant some days i was steaming along. The hard shoulder changed every few miles but generallyi could swap between the shoulder and the road when the traffic quietened. The only places to get supplies apart from Kayenta and Tuba City were small trading posts and I'm glad i took the longboard as there was no way i would have be mentally able to walk it. Most nights i slept under the stars as rock and sand do not go with tentpegs.

The problem now is that I'm right royally knackered and sore. I'm slightly worried that i have a slight ankle sprain in the same way I'm worried about the positioning of the letter 'D' in 'Wednesday'. I'm scared the cut under my knee i got from falling off my board is scarring into the shape of George Bush's face. These are indeed troubling times.

So I've reached Flagstaff. I now need a few private moments with my longboard before he's shipped back to atlanta and I'm back on foot. Then it's the final leg-550 miles to Los Angeles. Before that though I'm taking a bus tour to the Grande Canyon. I also tried hitching a detour there from Cameron but yep, you guessed it-tourists. My descriptive skills are limited to words like 'shiny', 'nice' and 'blimmin marvellous' so i will le the photo's do the talking once they're on the site. Also thank you to the American Legion for putting my mug on their homepage. Take a laugh at www.legion.org

Erm, I'm still in Durango. I had every intention on hitting the road today but it just didn't happen. I love this place, it has a relaxed, friendly bohemian fell about it and it's unlike any town I've been through. I could quite easy stay here if i had the time and money, alas neither are on my side. I'm glad I've had time to practice on my board, with the extra pack wait a few adjustments had to be made to stop speed wobble-not recommended unless you enjoy signing your name on the pavement with your own blood. I now have a patented air vent on my right trouser leg, all part of the fun. This may well be my last post until i reach(if i reach!) Flagstaff. Indian reservations aren't known for their great phone reception, neither are AT&T. So be safe, stay happy and I'll post as soon as, for tomorrow Nick is on wheels....

There has to be a balance in life; good-bad; hot-cold; beautiful-minging. This is also true of my coast to coast walk, I've just had it too good up to now. Pretty much everyone that has crossed the States has detoured around the Rockies, and for good reason. Personally the Rockies have been the highlight of my journey, and if i had to plan it all over again i wouldn't change a thing, this bit's for me. However if the Rockies are my Ying, then the upcoming Indian reservations are my Yang. Even during the planning stages i knew the reservations would be tough being in the desert wilderness for 4 days at a time. I'm prepared and ready.

Local knowledge has thrown up a major issue. The general concensus from locals, police and even Indians is that walking through the reservations alone for 300 miles would be very dangerous. A small minority of the local population are renowned for muggings, drink driving and taking pot shots at people. They don't tell you that on the interweb. Basically I need a faster means of travel, and there is no way I'm getting a bus or hitching. So I've decided on a compromise in true Nick 'challenge' Mof fashion and it's going to be fun, this is my adventure and i can do whatever i want. "A bicycle!" i hear you cry. No, that would be waaay too easy. I've got myself a skateboard, or longboard to be exact. After reaching Cortez it's going to be 'nickskatesamerica' for a while. You could almost write a book about this.

Today is Columbus Day. I bet when our chap Chris got drunk with his mates and decided to go on a good old fashioned booze-cruise he never expected to discover the New World. Of course by the time they got there they were all royally drunk and starving-hence greasy fast food was born.

I hope Skidmark is okay, because now i know the true meaning of cold. Cold isn't "ooh, it's a bit brassic outside, let's make a nice cuppa tea". Cold is waking up to find your tent is solid with ice, having a thin layer of frost on top of your sleeping bag, and finding your water and apples frozen solid. Due to my previous nights lack of sleep and a warm sleeping bag(and wearing all my clothes)i didn't feel a thing until i woke up. After defrosting my phones screen and realising I'd missed my alarm, the only thing i could do was de-camp quick and get moving before i froze to death.

Good route planning came into play and 3 miles down the road i knew a nice hot breakfast would be waiting for me at the Chimney Rock restaurant. By the time i finished stuffing my face i warmed up and started the 20 mile trek to Bayfield. It was no way 20 miles it went on forever, uphill-downhill, left-right, blah-blah I've obviously been spoilt in the mountains because i was really bored. To top it off i had to pay 15 bucks for a bit of grass because i couldn't camp in the park grr. The campsite owner said last night's low reached 23f which i think is around 'blimey charlie my balls have hibernated' degrees celcius, and I'm glad to say that tonight should be a much warmer 29f. Get the sweat rags out.

9pm on the dot last nights thunderstorm turned on me. For 6 hours my tent was battered by heavy winds and hail the size of small marbles. Fortunately my new Coleman Exponent tent laughed it off and i stayed warm and dry, if not a little chilly. By chilly i mean putting on every layer available, banging the frost off my tent before pulling it down and having to tip-toe back down the hillside through snow and ice. And to think i was sweating my gonads off a few weeks ago.

A quick finger dip in Pagosa's hot springs(it really was hot) and i made the uneventful trek to another campsite overlooking Chimney Rock. It's basically a big rock that looks like, well put it this way, from this angle that ain't no chimney.

I was miles from anywhere and the temperature quickly dropped so after setting up camp i lit a big campfire to keep warm and scare off any ghosts or wild animals, or so i thought. An hour had passed when suddenly a small cat-like creature appeared out of the darkness towards my left. Before you could say 'Bob's your Uncle' I'd jumped up, grabbed the cold end of a log out of the fire, skipped to the other side of the fire and awaited in Ninga pose for the imminent attack from mummy Cougar who i was sure was not far behind baby cat. If a Cougar did indeed jump at me from the shadows, i was pretty sure that I'd kick his ass and i would be proud of my quick reactions. However the small cat-like creature turned out to be your average domestic cat looking at me wandering why i was making such a prat out of myself.

I called him Skidmark. He was cold, hungry and very vocal, so after we had warmed up again by the fire i gave him my last Granola bar. Like a typical grumpy cat he took one bite then stuck his nose up at it. The only other food i had was apples and once Skidmark realised there was nothing to gain from being here he disappeared into the night again to scare some other weary traveller. It was an unusual night to say the least.

My stomach is not a happy chappy. There's only so much noodles, granola bars, apples and power bars you can eat before your body throws a tantrum. After reaching the very charming town of Pagosa Springs i decided to stay so that i would be close to mushrooms, i mean restrooms. I nearly caused a full scale evacuation of Subway, HAZMAT were almost called and a 2 mile perimeter set up. I was glad of the rest anyway and the weather's been rubbish all day. A huge forested hill looms over Pagosa so i decided to climb up to see the views, ease the nasal suffering of the locals and camp on the North ridge away from the wind. All evening big bad thunderstorms rushed through the valley powered on by my gaseous windage, dumping there load on the mountain range i crossed over yesterday. Throw in a load of lightning, and it was an awesome display from my hilltop lookout.

Lots of photo's have been added to the Colorado folder, no laughing out outfits, hair etc, I'm not on the catwalk you know....

It's been a big big day. Last night i camped 7 miles into the mountains, leaving me with 12 miles to the top and another 13 down the other side to East fork campsite before dark. I didn't get the best start, it's hard convincing myself to get out of my warm sleeping bag at 6am in freezing temperatures. My bladder finally won over and before i knew it i was stomping towards Wolf Creek Pass.

On the way up i had great pleasure in watching a Winnebago complete with pickup in tow get stuck trying to make a U-turn. If i can carry everything i need for 6 months on my back then they deserve everything coming. The rain held off apart from a few snowflakes, however the further up the mountain i went the colder and windier it became. I reached the summit just after midday and was greeted with views of snowy peaks and a big marker showing the Continental Divide.

Downhill was a different story. Much steeper hills crunched my bones and the wind had a habit of trying to blow me over the edge into the Canyon below. Fortunately the views were even more stunning than on the way up and my camera was working overtime. I barely made it to the campsite, my legs and bones were in agony. I just managed to pitch my tent before the rain started and the darkness fell, so the extra ly-in was worth it in the end. I couldn't be bothered to cook so sat in my warm tent planning the next few days route and writing this waffle. It's been an absolutely tremendous day. I have to say that being at the campsite on my own with no phone reception made me feel a little lonely for the first time in a long while. I might go into the woods and go find me a bear to talk to.

A few miles out of Del Norte and I reached the 2,000 mile mark. I still haven't got that curry i popped out for. In around 51 days and 1,000 miles I'll be at the Pacific Ocean wandering what the hell just happened.

For the next couple days I'll be conquering my last major mountain range via Wolf Creek Pass. High winds and freezing temperatures are the talk from the locals so this may be my last post, again. 16 miles out of Del Norte i reached South Fork, and spent a couple hours stocking up on food and making sure i knew exactly where my campsites were going to be, just in case a blizzard hit or i managed to poke myself in both eyes.

I still haven't grasped the American accent even though I'm a yankee myself. When i ask for the restrooms people think I'm asking for mushrooms. They must be popular around here.

I'm now in the San Luis Valley, an immense flatland surrounded by mountains. Although it's been clear blue skies, I'm currently at around 8,000ft and wearing winter gear which is doing nothing for my suntan. Other than the small town of Segauche and a gas station there's nothing here but farmland, producing all the goodies for Coors beer. The weekend weather report is for severe British weather, right when I'm going to be trekking over my lat mountain range. Snowball fights, snowmen, snow-angels(if no-ones looking), yellow snow, it could be a fun weekend ahead.

Sorry about the lack of photo's at the moment. AT&T are so set on world domination that they've forgot about their original customers back home and I've had no reception to send any photo's for a few days. As soon as I've strangled someone I'll get some mountain pics on here.

I was up at the of freezing. Happy the bears hadn't munched my food hanging from the tree, i packed and set off for Hayden Pass. 3 hours, 6 miles and 3,800ft climb later i was sat atop the Continental Divide. After a quick pee, i contemplated the fact that half my pee would end up 1,000 miles in the Pacific, and the other half would end up 2,000 miles in the Atlantic. It was a tough old climb though, what got me most was the lack of oxygen however stopping every 10 minutes is compulsory to wow at the views so it wasn't too big a deal. Unfortunately there were no views at the top, only trees and a very jolly family who took the clever decision to drive their 4x4 up the mountain. The views going down the other side were also spectacular. I could see the upcoming San Lois Valley all the way to the mountains 60 miles away, all i had to do now was walk it.

After a bite to eat in Villa Grove i found a campsite 3 miles down the road where i could finally shower after 7 days of walking. One other guy was at the site, and he turned out to be the most amazing person I've ever had the pleasure to meet. John lives in a converted van and spends days at a time in the mountains living off the land and creeping up on bears and big cats. After kindly making me some yummy beans and meat we chatted for hours about his life story. He's half Irish/Indian; toured Vietnam 3 times(and was shot twice); owned a Ranch then gave it away to a needy family leaving only with his horse and what he could carry; gave Robert Redford riding lessons for the film 'The Horse Whisperer'; makes knives and Tomahawks and was once the World Champion axe thrower; played an Indian in the film 'Jeremiah Johnson' and ranched cattle all over the Western United States. That's just to start, you could write a few books on this guy. He took the time to go through my route with me and has given me lots to chew over, he was an absolutely amazing guy and i was honoured to meet him. I didn't get to bed until 1am but it was well worth it spending the evening with John.

Frickin' amazing. That's the only way i can describe where i am, following the Arkansas River through the Bighorn Sheep Canon. Few cars, no people and awesome views. A few weeks back some killjoy commented that I'd be stupid going into the mountains this time of year. Now to me that sounds like a challenge, and whilst in the Cotopaxi Store i found my mountain. A big map on the wall showed a trail not on my map or GPS. It cuts straight over the mountain range I'm currently taking the girly route around, and would knock at least a day off my walk. Sold.

To get to my mountain required an extra trek past my original campsite to Hayden Creek a few miles uphill. After a 26 mile day and a 1,400ft ascent i was there, albeit a bit colder, wetter and pretty darn tired.

It's been a pretty average day. Apart from walking across the worlds highest suspension bridge, riding on the worlds longest single-span aerial tram, riding down the worlds steepest incline railway and purchasing the worlds most expensive crap coffee it's been pretty quiet. I arrived at the Gorge early to gain cheap entry and see the sights before all the fanny-bags and screaming kids arrived. The Gorge is immense and photo's just don't do it justice. I could have sat there staring and catching flies all day but i had some walking to do. The down point of seeing the Gorge was that it took me nearly an hour to recalculate my journey to Salida so that i still had places to camp and pick up supplies. However my ickle brain did me proud and off i skipped to my new campsite-Five Points State Campground. The site was right by the river. I lit a big badboy campfire and stared in awe at the light reflecting off the montainside and the bright stars above. Of course the trouble with a campfire is you can't see the ghosts and goolies creeping up behind you and some of the strange noises emanating from the darkness were cause for me to keep my torch at hand. What was that?!

It doesn't seem to matter how hard i push myself, the next day I'm always ready for a good stomp. The are between Penrose and Canon City is a mecca for prisons-State, Federal, Juvenile, death row prisons to name a few. There's even an old 19th century prison in the centre of Canon City. Canon City itself is fantastic. Once you get past the obligatory skanky strip mall, there's all sorts of fun to be had; quirky shops, nice people, interesting museums, all set under the backdrop of the red cliffs looming above. After a lovely chat with the lady in the tourist info office, I've decided to take a detour tomorrow to the Royal Gorge. Apparently it's gorgeous haha.

My afternoon was spent hiking up an 8 mile hill ascending ,000ft. In a flash of genius the locals named it 8 mile hill-brilliant. Personally i would call it 8 and a bit mile hill but that would just be pedantic. The bonus point of the day was that i was able to camp in a free camping spot complete with a covered seating area only a mile from the Gorge. The site itself is sat at the top of a big hill with 360 degree views. With no-one else stupid enough to camp this time of year i had the campsite, views and silence all to myself. For the first time i hung my food up a tree, Yogi ain't eatin' my grub.

Ellicott is around 5,500ft above sea level. Pikes Peak which looms over Colorado Springs is at 14,000ft. To me the mountains looked around 5 miles away when infact they were more like 30 miles away. All day my ickle brain was telling me i was nearly there but the mountains just got bigger and bigger, it was really taking the biscuit. It was only 18 miles to Colorado springs but i tell you it was the hardest. By the time i reached the outskirts of the city i was too tired to celebrate so i found the nearest motel, had a shower and slept.

I'm now taking a 4 day well earned break with my bro in Vail to rest, eat and prep for the mountains. I'll be uploading a load of photo's in the next day or so and replying to any emails i haven't replied to yet.

There really is nothing out here. Pumpkin Centre and Rush were nothing more than a cross roads with a few buildings looking pretty strange in the middle of the hi flatlands. It's still blisteringly hot and the last week has by far been the hardest and most challenging stretch of my trip so far, that's the polite version. The thought of seeing the Rockies for the first time has kept me going however visibility hasn't been the best. A few miles from Ellicott i was welcomed by a massive expanse of flatland below my hilltop location. The Rockies were right there on the horizon, but i couldn't see them. At least I've finally reaches civilisation, it feels like I've finally found my way out of the desert, there were people, cars, music, toilets?! I even had a park to camp in complete with swings and a slide to play on.

Early evening the Rockies finally showed their face and the views of the sunset have nearly made the last 101 days worth it.

The last 3 days have been as enjoyable as re-writing George Bush's speeches, as painful as parents evening when you know your kid is a complete bugger, and as uneventful as an all-male pajama party. Monday was one long, very hot walk alongside truckers route 287. Tuesday was one long, very hot walk alongside truckers route 287, except this time carrying 4 days worth of food. In the evening i refilled with water in Aroya before walking a few more miles. The clever idea was to reach Pumpkin Centre 27 miles away by Wednesday evening so i could refill on water. There's nothing between Aroya and there and if it was going to be another blisteringly hot day the 4 litres of water i was carrying wouldn't last too long. It was the perfect plan, the logic was undeniable.

In the high flatlands no-one can here you swear. During the night the bite-valve on my water pouch became squashed between my GPS and the tent pole. Water had slowly dripped out and by morning i was left with a pint, plus a pint in my emergency container. Not funny. A 6 mile round trip back to Aroya was out of the question, so i set off desperately hoping there would be a ranch in the next 10 miles. 18 miles later and nothing. I was contemplating cutting across the scrubland to one of the windmills which are used to pump well water for cattle, yum. As fate would have it a kind guy by the name of Ross pulled up, and as he had no water drove me to Pumpkin Centre. I was alive, if not a little thirsty.

The potential for being so close to death made me think about a few things in a different light-if cows could talk, would they ask for a massage? What would i say to the Queen? If you pull the legs off a fly what would you call it? What can i say, I'm an optimist.

A short 16 mile trek and i was in civilisation at last. Last night i camped in Chivington, a small place where half the buildings were derelict and the other half were just liveable. Randy had told me how Chivington used to be a stereotypical railroad town with bars and hore-houses, now it just looks like a tornado has gone through it. The whole area is striaght out of a movie scene with small cacti, sloping scrubland and dry creek beds. Infact it was once Indian territory, and just North(by car at least) is a monument to the Salt Creek Massacre where 300 Indians were slaughtered. It was pretty atmospheric being able to stand in the complete silence looking at the stars and having no-one charging you an entrance fee or trying to sell you 'real Indian sand'. And then 3 police cars sped past and ruined it. They must have been handing out free leftover donuts in Sheridan Lake.

I stayed in Eads for the rest of the day as a big storm was brewing and i didnt want to be caught out in the middle of the Plains. I saw Casey the policeman again, although he was off duty i stopped myself from telling him his girlfriend was hot, you never know. I should have camped in the designated camping area but it was right by the noisy highway 287 truck route, so i pitched instead right outside the police station. A pretty safe bet if you ask me.

When i left Towner at 6.30am it was colder than Maggie Thatcher in a grump. 2 hours later it was hotter than Kelly Brooke washing my car topless. It's almost worth fighting the cold to see the sunrise, but not quite. Not expecting to see civilisation for 3 days, it was almost orgasmic seeing a newly opened gas station in Sheridan Lake. Fate had brought us together, but not because they sold coffee.

After using a real toilet i happily munched on my lunch outside. A very smiley guy called Randy (picture) pulled up and offered me a lift. It was like a scene out if 'Me, Myself and Irene' but i managed to pull myself together, say no thank you and explained the unplanned, idiotic, unthoughout trip i was undertaking. A couple hours later Randy stopped on his way back home and passed me a couple of ice cold beers-top man. Another hour later he came back, this time with food, Gatorade and more beer from his wife. People aren't too well off here so it was humbling that Randy was prepared to do so much for a complete stranger. He even called his friend Mary and got permission for me to camp in her garden in Chivington. She was lovely too. Later on when local Sheriff Casey stopped for my first Colorado ID check, he knew both of them and was extremely helpful and courteous too, it's like the Waltons out here i tell ya.

All in all its been a very enjoyable day. My pack is fuller and heavier than it ever has been and I've still managed 26 miles. I hate to say it, but for once i think I'm actually looking forward to tomorrow.

This afternoon i waved a fond farewell to Kansas and limped into Colorado. Being a big cycle route, there were also a couple of cyclists taking it all in who were travelling the other way. I didn't want to spoil the excitement of the unknown so didnt ask what i had in store and just passed on my expert novice hiker experience of what lay ahead for them. I ended up in Towner, a small settlement where Main street consisted of a letterbox and 2 houses. I walked around trying to find someone, anyone, but it was just dead. I ended up pitching by the railway track and spent the next 2 hours watching the sun set and the stars come out over the vast landscape before the cold drove me to my tent. Spectacular.

A short and very hot 22 miles and i was in Tribune, my last stop before Colorado. In the afternoon i followed a 9 mile dirt track running alongside the highway, the open views away from the traffic were amazing. Last night coming into Leoti i saw the guy from Alexander for the fourth time, and sure enough there he was at the gas station again. He works on oil wells so travels a lot, but it's still called stalking in my book. Nice bloke though. It took me an hour to leave the gas station after the lovely checkout girl screamed "you're walking?!?!" at the top of her voice. All the locals decended onto my location to ask questions and give some handy advice. Old man Bill told me how he used to fly his plane over the area and on just one particularly clear day he could see the Rockies 200 miles away. How i wish i had a plane.

On arrival at the Sherriff's office they already knew i was in town. Someone had called me in because, wait for it, i was walking....ON A ROAD?! That's just cu-razy. I appreciate that there's lots of farm machinery lying around and people tend to leave their doors unlocked but come on, i can't hotwire a tractor and as far as im aware the military haven't invented the Tardis rucksack to carry one yet. What annoyed me is i knew who called me in because only one pickup passed me all afternoon. He waved and everything, i mean what sort of person would do such a thing, wave and not mean it? That's just downright cruel.

I promised the Sherriff i wouldnt go tractor-joyriding and was sent on my merry way to the park to pitch my tent up in the dark again. Ir's starting to get pretty nippy at night, 'you could cut glass with them' as i used to say.

I've reached Leoti, slap bang in the middle of the great plains. I've only 212 miles and 10 days to go before i reach Colorado Springs. This will probably be my last post until then as I'm now entering 'the dead zone', no phone reception, no libraries, not much of anything really apart from 2 small towns and a truck stop. It's going to be a case of if I'm not carrying it, I can't have it.

I've prepared a few singalong songs for when my ipod battery dies-
What's wheat got to do with it?
Crazy little thing called wheat
Something wheaty
What a wonderful wheat

They should keep me going, it's not like there's anyone around to hear my shrill cries. If i come out the other side still sane i will be very surprised. Well it's time to hit the road, I'll hopefully see you all in 10 days, another time zone and another State. Adios for now....

It's been a quietly enjoyable last couple of days. I must be easily pleased as nothing of note has happened at all, not a chipolata. I'm most pleased with my progress-54 miles in 2 days with little damage to show for it apart from a hungry belly. The only discerning landmarks now are grain silos marking the next town, with the odd ranch or oil well scattered across the landscape. The trouble with seeing grain silos is that although you can see your finish point ahead, it can sometimes be 10 miles away. Hour after hour the damn things just don't get any closer, then suddenly you're there and the next one's waving at you in the distance.

I've now left starestown and entered nicestarestownville. People still gawp, but add a smile or a wave. I haven't seen much of where i am now-Scott City, but Dighton was very welcoming. At 9am a mix of country and rock music played out onto the empty high street from city hall, people stopped to speak, it was all very surreal. Communters are also starting to get to know me as are the cattle trucks. One guy stopped and said "I saw you yesterday, looking good!" Thanks mate, but i like girls. Just now i say a guy i spoke to 3 days ago in Alexander. This place is basically one small community, just very spread out.

It's been an unusual day. I cooked breakfast, me, cooked, breakfast, it's just not right. And at 6.30am in the night. The sky was bluer than blue, what i now call blueblue, and it was an amazing sight over the now lunar landscape. I know this will possibly upset a few people so i will say it-God must have been a gay fashion designer in another life. With most of the crops harvested, the leftover landscape complemented the blueblue sky perfectly. Hopefully have some pics up soon.

What's strange is that it's cold, and very windy. After months of sweating like a Mexican wrestler, I'm now in winter attire. Wearing a woolly hat and shades just feels wrong, like a bloke walking into the ladies toilets is wrong(but it still has to be done at least once).

As if by magic I've also left niceville and walked into staretown. No smiles or waves now, just stares. Some yocals even slow down to take a good gawp, which annoys the hell out of me. I will start pulling moonies soon, that'll give them something to stare at. Even when i reached Ness City(which so isn't a city) the yocals were falling over themselves to take a good gawp. "Look look, there be one of those real people from that there real world?! It does exist!!" Even the usually friendly cops couldn't help themselves, wearing their feminine beige trousers and, oh a gun, well I've always been quite fond of beige myself. On the good side the lady in the gas station was very friendly, and Ness City even had a small camping area for drifters like me. Thank god there was somewhere to eat, I'm always starving lately. Fatty.

These old railway towns really are dying a slow death. The gas stations which should be supplying me with coffee and donuts just don't exist anymore. That's just downright selfish. I arrived in Rush Centre just before lunch ready to stock up at the gas station and food mart, which according to all my research were waiting for me. They weren't. It looked like an annoying 5 mile detour north was needed to La Crosse as i was still 35 miles from the next town and short of food. Luckily the local bar had just opened so i was able to ravage on an 18oz cheeseburger, curly fries and pasta, yum. My noodles and power bars would get me the rest of the way so on i hitched, sorry walked, to Alexander, and a very nice rest stop to camp. There were toilets and everything, you people don't know how lucky you are.

At the rest stop 3 separate people came over to ask if i was the guy they saw walking earlier. Tired and grumpy, i really wanted to say "No, i just have a very big handbag, prefer to cook here than in my own deluxe kitchen and I've borrowed James Bonds invisible car". Please.

The heavy rain is back, and i was luxky to have booked myself into a cheap motel last night as a half-way treat. Towns are becoming more spread apart from here on in, and i will have to plan carefully so that i don't end up as another one of those roadside crosses i keep seeing. Untimely death isn't on my agenda. Due to the recent spell of wet weather my bestest friends the mosquitos have been given a few extra weeks to happily munch away at some prime British meat. They obviously know the end is near as they're making an extra special effort at trying to suck the life out of my legs.

It was a slow and relatively quiet day. It was a case of having to stop every time a truck went past so i wouldnt get soaked, and stopping every so often to dry my feet. A crazy life i lead! I don't see myself getting into too much mischief in the coming weeks, so posts might be a bit thin on the ground or delayed. I've made it to a small town of nothing called Timken, it does have a small park which is a bonus i suppose.

Yes sir, it's as right as the arch-enemy of wrong, I'm half way across the USA. Each individual day has been a right royal challenge, but thinking about them all together to have gotten where i am now, I've pretty much just got on with it, enjoyed it and I'm giving a special Winston Churchill style two fingers at the few who doubted me. Of course big thanks to all those that have helped me get this far, you know who you are!

I'm now due to finish early December, a whole month ahead of schedule which is an accomplishment in itself, as is being able to spell accomplishment. I'm actually aiming to finish November 30th as i have some unfinished business back home, part of my renewed 'life's too short' attitude.

In 3 small weeks I'll be done with the flatlands and into the Rockies. I have some of the worlds greatest minds revising my route over the mountains so rest assured that a bit more effort is going into planning the dangerous part of my trip, there's only so much blagging one man can do. So what have a learned since Kansas City?

-there is a special place in hell waiting for mosquitos.
-a smile can get you anything-if you mean it.
-i would be lost without my mobile phone and ipod.
-I'm still Australian, with a slight twist of New Zealand now. Nice.
-what Americans fear the most is themselves.
-two legs are better than one.
-Kansas just pips Pennyslvania as the friendliest and most welcoming State I've been through so far, well done you guys!
-i love my car more than life itself.

I'm currently updating the blog via the library as both of my phones have zero reception, so apologies for the lack of photos.

Through the process of elimination, to be exact walking past fields, I've realised that what has been flaring up my allergies again is wheat. This is a small problem, like Bin Laden is a small problem. I'm currently in the wheat state, the kingdom of wheat, the epicenter of wheat heaven. There's so much wheat here they make houses out of the stuff, cars drive on it, I've even heard stories that dogs are made of it. I've probably walked past or peed near the wheat you'll be eating soon.

With itchy red eyes my charm offensive with the locals is in real jeopardy. Dirty, smelly, unshaven and now with blood-shot eyes, even I'm beginning to think that i may indeed look like a dog-shooting, spider-leg pulling terrorist.

On the walking front, nothing of interest happened and i ended up walking the full 29 miles to Lyons. After popping down the local police station to let them know i was in town, Casey the local policeman not only gave me a lift to the local free campgrounds, but also gave me a quick tour of the place and showed me where a horse endurance race will be coming into town tomorrow. Now that's what i call a welcome, thanks Casey!

The order of the day day was eat, rest, eat, see the sights af McPherson, and eat a bit more food. My dreams of seeing Leo the MGM Lion were shattered when i found the local museum to be closed. I don't pick my rest days very well as everything else seemed to be closed too, something to do with being open on the weekend. The weather has turned 'English' and is expected to reach a chilly 8c tonight. Im now only 60 miles from my half way point which is rather exciting. If you're interested I'm also around 65 miles South East of the Geodetic center for North America, which is sat on a ranch in Osborne County(Osborne is a great name).

I popped down the local paper for a quick interview so hopefully I'll be in the paper without the help of crazy people or the police this time. Im now sat in one of the few places open, a local side bar, singing along to 'sweet home Alabama' with a bottle of Miller. A couple more beers and I'll be ready to whip the locals at a few games of pool. It's great to be normal again.

For the first time phone reception is really bad, my phone keeps linking to some US 40 network which wont let me publish photo's, so I'm old-skooling it at another friendly library.

It's cold, wet and windy, and I'm ba ba dah dah dah-lovin' it. Apart from the ocassional truck soaking me with spray it's been great walking weather. No burning sun, shade-hunting, beaty swollocks or crawling on all fours looking desperately for water. All day there was an erie feeling of a storm brewing, which made for an unusual atmosphere in what i can best describe as the prairie land i was now walking through. Things are starting to open up and everything is becoming barren. Cows aren't great at holding a conversation, i think my 'Queens' English is confusing them. I had aimed to finish 21 miles West in Admire, but a guy at the gas station in Osage City described Admire as a "diieeiinng toowwnn" as if something sinister was going down. Not wanting to disappear forever under strange circumstances, i stomped another 5 miles to Allen. I ate at the Allen Bar and Grill, where i learned the British lads Stuart and Dave also stopped during their Discovery trail walk last year, it seems I'm following them. I was invited for coffee and offered a place to pitch for the night by the lovely Martha and Bill who lived around the corner. They spoilt me with great coffee, great company and a wealth of knowledge to help me on my trip. It turns out Bill has been fishing and camping with some of the Coleman family(my sponsors), a small world indeed.

I've had a number of emails from kind people wanting to help fund my trip and donate to me personally. Whilst it has never been my intention to raise money for myself, I'm acutely aware that my funds are depleting quicker than i had hoped, and i may regret declining such offers in the near future. For this reason my bro Jez has kindly set up a donation link on the left of this site. Any money raised will only be used if i run out of my own, and anything left will be split between the 2 charities, unless you want it back of course! Thanks.

Kansas City is an amazing place, i would recommend it to anyone. I stayed downtown with Matt who was an awesome host. With a great transport sytem, i was able to see lots of sights without walking too far; funky westport; unique country club plaza; the National WWI museum; the hip power & light district to name a few. In the evening i was shown around the East side and tried out the world famous 'Arthur Bryants' BBQ grub. After Pittsburgh, Kansas City is definitely top of places i would live, the local ale is pretty good too. It's been a great finish to my Missouri leg, tomorrow i make a short hop to Kansas City Kansas, now that is confusing.

Like the speed of a man quietly breaking wind on a first date, i have conquered Missouri, and have mixed feelings about this fine State. I've met some of the most friendly and helpful people so far, yet come across some of the most paranoid egits who have no conception of the world outside their own community, and have no inclination to want to broaden their horizons. As burly farmer quite rightly said, these are the few people that give Americans a bad name.

The katy trail, although not a walkers paradise and definitely for bikes, is something Missouri should be proud of, and its success is largely due to the people living along it. Western-mid Missouri has little to offer the traveller apart from friendly farmers and rich people with ego-boosting huge lawns. And the occasional crasy woman. Trying to find anywhere to camp was a nightmare. I have been lucky, very lucky with the cool weather, yet feel slightly guilty. The abnormally cold weather(you're kidding right?!) mixed with high fuel prices(you'd fall off your rocking chair at the prices we pay in the UK) has led to many small businesses along the Katy Trail taking only a quarter of their usual takings, and there are many glum faces behind the smiles. A good Mof hug won't help here i feel.

As for me:
* Im no more crazy than when i started.
* I miss my friends back home and the road can definitely be a lonely place, yet I'm still motivated and accept that this is a challenge, not a holiday.
* I still can't get that stupid song 'the long and winding road' out of my head. Worst still, it's the Will Young version.
* I'm worried Dave the cat back home has been stuffed after being killed by the local plane crash.
* I'm remembering all the words again to all the country music songs i hear thanks to my Mother force-feeding me them as a baby.
* My hair is longer than it has been for 6 years, and although i now look like Buck Rogers i don't want to part with it.

Just a quick hello to my old friend Clare. i have her to thank for me being here, she's always been my inspiration and i will be lost when i get home and she's travelling the world. Have a great time out there with Karl! On a lighter note, i have a new, concept, not yet on public sale tent waiting for me at the Post Office from my sponsors Coleman Exponent. I almost feel dirty geting over-excited about a tent, I'm in fear of becoming a geek. Must find pub....

More pics have been put into the Missouri folder too....

The human body is a triumph of engineering. Im now half man, half walking machine. The rain and faffing before the weekend should have added another day onto my St Louis-Kansas City leg, but i was determined to finish today. I've used the last 3 days to test my limits and see how far I've come in 70 days. The route since Boonville was pretty much rural sloping farmland apart from 2 towns, so there wasn't much worth stopping to see anyway. Also my UK phone battery was dead and i had minimal credit on my US cellphone, and contact with the outside world is what keeps me going.

I'm not sure how far i walked yet in the 3 days but it must be around 80 miles. I'm now sat in Starbucks on main street, Kansas City MO, and pretty chuffed with my achievement. Yes I'm knackered, hungry and smelly, but I'm still positive and my legs are still attached. My feet and ankles are the only body parts that really suffered, and i have a lot of making up to do to bring them back on side.

I made the right choice in dumping Katy Trail, I haven't had one mosquito bite since Friday. Im now off for some R&R in the city and to prepare for the next instalment of my journey in Kansas. You'd be crazy to miss it!

The quiet rural hills of Mid Missouri make for great scenery, but a boring blog. Nothing even slightly entertaining or interesting has happened since Friday, that is until last night.

I camped up just outside Blackburn around 7pm. I found a nice grassy verge on a gravel track away from houses off the main road and settled for the night. I'd spoken to the land owners brother, and later his son, and they were fine with my being there, i would be gone by 5am anyway. Things took a turn for the worse when a big burly farmer knocked on my front door. Apparently some woman half a mile down the road was in hysterics because some child-molesting, murdering terrorist was camping near her house. I jumped into burly farmers truck and we drove to her house to see if we could help out and find the murdering scum that threatened her children. When we got there i introduced myself as 'Nick', and she introduced herself as 'Go Away'. She then ignored me and repeatedly told burly farmer that he was an idiot.

She was obviously a paranoid schizophrenic so we left her to find the evil doer herself. We'd just got back to the campsite when the County Sheriff pulled onto my drive. He's also heard there was a dog-shooting, spider-leg pulling terrorist lurking and came to make sure i was okay. As with all the fuzz I've met along the way, Deputy Richard Miller was kind, courteous and professional. After checking my ID we had a small laugh about ME perhaps being the granny-tripping, non-tipping terrorist, as if. However it did turn out that burly farmer was DUI, and promptly arrested, which made me feel bad because i was the reason he was out there.

Fearing for my safety, i recieved permission from none other than the Chief of Police Dean Koch to camp out by the lake round the corner in Blackburn. After thanking Deputy Miller i quickly set up my tent and prepared for a sleepless night, the cat-kicking, jay-walking terrorist was still out there...

For a newspaper report of my eventful evening click on the link Marshall Democratic News