Sleeping with my Cheese and Water Bottles    Photos
by Don Vermilyea

Last May through August I remember complaining about the blistering heat in California and Oregon. Temperatures of 130 degrees in the sun and 80 degrees at night were unbearable at times.

There was a hot night under a bridge over a river where an army of tiny red ants decided to detour under my sheet. The targets were my butt and back and biting was their objective. I had no idea I was so sweet or maybe they just wanted my salty sweat. That ended dreamland for the rest of the night.

Another night while trying to sleep on a picnic table near numerous rice paddies north of Sacramento, it was so hot I couldn't even get under my sheet. While swatting 1000's of mosquitoes from the millions that appeared after sunset, sleep wasn't possible because I might have been drained of blood. Slapping myself so many times that night resulted in my not knowing if I was killing a new or already mashed one. The next day I was covered with welts and bites that took days to heal.

Not coincidentally my tent was set up for the first time the next night even though it reduced my sleeping options dramatically. That day I heard the area was having many mosquito born illnesses and deaths. I picked the wrong night to be bit more in nine hours than the past thirty years combined. It was time for some serious praying.

There was always the concern of waking up with a snake in bed with me. This never happened, Praise God!

Many of those hot days I drank 25 pounds of water, which made for an unbearably heavy pack. I reasoned it's better to die from a broken back than thirst.

Homelessness has taught me the cold is much more dangerous than the heat.

In San Diego County, California an unexpected March storm dumped snow 2000 feet above me in the mountains. I was "sleeping" under a piece of holy plastic as it drizzled about 7 p.m. and the plastic was working fairly well. At 9 p.m. the skies opened up in a downpour and my sleeping bag soaked it up like a sponge. Every thing was saturated and my best choice was to lay in the wet and accept the inevitable, head-to-toe prune-like condition. If you've ever done dishes too long you know what I mean. The weather improved to just drizzling for a couple of hours, but the damage was done. A cold front whipped through shortly thereafter, clearing the skies beautifully, but bringing with it 20 mile per hour winds and temperatures in the upper 30's. The rest of the night is officially the worst night of my entire life.

Sunrise was a wonderful gift that morning. You've probably "seen your breath" a time or two. I saw my entire body's breath while emerging from my wet cocoon. There was enough steam coming off me to run an electric power plant. Praise God the clear skies turned into sunshine for drying everything out in preparation of the 30 degree temperature the next morning.

The last week of October turned unseasonably wet and cold in the Blue Mountains of Eastern Oregon. One day at lower elevations I walked through a couple of showers with my rain gear on. Later that night, I slept in an abandoned barn with half the roof missing and the other half was leaky. In the middle of the night mist from the missing side dampened my bag so I moved to a dryer place. Drizzle was falling the next morning as I left, but blue skies were to the west. I figured I'd find a guardrail to dry my sleeping bag during the day.

Blue Mountain Pass isn't particularly high for the western U.S. (4,193 feet) and the last week of October isn't even close to wintertime. It was time to walk I-84 over the Blues and head to Idaho.

As the elevation increased it started to rain, then mixed with snow, and eventually turned to all snow and fog. The forecast I heard days earlier didn't call for much so I kept climbing eastward.

Because the snow was piling up I had to move ever closer to the white line of I-84 and the steady stream of westbound traffic. Eventually the only way I could walk was one foot or less from the line because traffic was keeping the snow depth lower. Snow poured down and I was doing some very serious praying. This wasn't how I planned it at lower elevations and I prayed for wisdom to know what to do. I hadn't backtracked for weather reasons the entire walk and didn't particularly want to start that day. Surely sooner or later, a bridge would appear because there are exits even up in the unpopulated mountains. Exits mean bridges and shelter for me.

By the Grace of God the person I'd stayed with days earlier brought me winter clothes that had been "lost" in the local post office. It was nothing short of a miracle that he found me under those treacherous, snowy, foggy conditions. I checked out the snow pants and coat, became chilled from standing around, and accepted his offer of taking me back to his home till the snow ended and the roads could be plowed. I was discouraged, but believe he was the answer to my prayers.

7:30 a.m. a day and a half later, I was dropped off at the same spot. The skies were super blue, the mountains were gorgeous, and it was 10 degrees. With both my old and new winter clothing on it was time to head east

During the day it never went above 20 degrees and my beard and mustache turned into icicles. I walked past Deadman's Pass, the summit, and back down to 4,000 feet. It was so cold and beautiful I cruised till late afternoon when a bridge appeared for shelter. A fire was built under the I-84 bridge in full view of traffic. Temperatures were already dropping and I didn't care who saw me. Finding dry firewood was a problem, but eventually I found two hours worth. Dinner was elbow macaroni and cheese and the temperature was 10 degrees when I entered my sleeping bag.

The fire died down and fifteen minutes into darkness my sleeping bag finally felt a little warm. A police officer arrived with his big Maglite and wanted to see identification. Praise God he accepted my plea of "I'll freeze to death if I get out of this bag and I'm walking across America for the Lord. My I.D. is in my pack and will you please get it."

He removed my I.D., ran it through the computer and returned saying "You gonna be all right? I don't want you dying on me." I told him, "Lord willing I hope I'll be O.K."

Later I thought he would have flunked out of the police academy for taking pity on me, believing my crazy story, letting his position of power disappear, and doing what I said. I'm so thankful he did because by 2:00 a.m. I was quite cold and laid awake in misery the rest of the night due to the 5 degree temperature. The cold was too much for the insulative value of my bag. Getting out of my bag earlier in the night to find my I.D. might have made the situation life threatening.

Course it didn't help sleeping with my frigid cheese and water bottles. I knew if they remained away from my body heat overnight, they'd have been worthless the next day. In that kind of cold it is very important to eat and drink a lot.

It took two hours of walking and toe wiggling to warm my feet up the next morning. The sun that was so overbearing in the summer was just what the Dr. ordered on this morning.

The weather remained cold, all though not as cold all the way to Idaho. For most of the next eight days there was a stiff wind in my face, cloudy skies, and it rained once as I neared my destination.

I lost seven pounds over those 10 days because I couldn't eat enough calories to walk in the cold all day with 60-70 pounds on my back and get through the freezing temperatures at night.

Baker City, Oregon was a stop that kept a few pounds on my frame. I laid my sleeping bag out thirty feet from I-84 in some shrubs, hid my pack, and went into town. Many phone calls later I was chilled to the bone and for the only time during this walk I entered a restaurant by myself.

I needed to warm up and get hot food into my body. After ordering an extra large pizza I went to the restroom to wash up for the first time in many days. Looking in the mirror I was able to see what others see. There was an old scary looking man. His hair was messed up. He was filthy looking and smelly. His face was badly wind burnt and red. His eyes were red. He looked like death warmed over. He was shivering. I was so thankful the waitress even had the courage to wait on me. We judge others by their appearance and I appeared very scary looking.

For two hours I devoured that pizza, read devotionals, and looked at maps. I was charged only for a large pizza and left the waitress a good tip. Because I'm homeless, outside of scheduled church stops, I'm treated with disrespect by almost everyone. Praise God the young waitress treated me in a loving Christian-like way. For the first time in a long time I slept well and was warm despite the cold and traffic.

Praise God truckers, whom I'd see everyday hauling sugar beets from Oregon to the sugar plant in Nampa, Idaho, started throwing food out their windows for me. Some even stopped and gave me food and asked how I was doing. Their small gifts of God's love lifted me and helped me to keep walking for the Lord. The small gifts were very large to me!

Jesus says in Matthew 22:36-40 that everything boils down to two things. First, put God above all else. Second, love your neighbor as yourself. For any of you that might be wondering the homeless, the losers, the scum, the filthy, the least, are your neighbors. This includes most of the world's human population.

Till the next time. . .
In Christ's love, Don
P.S. I'm in Twin Falls, Idaho for the winter. You can write me at:
Don Vermilyea - Walk Across America
C/O Church of the Brethren
461 Filer Ave. West
Twin Falls, ID 83301

I'll probably head to western Colorado in the spring via either Utah or Nevada. Please contact me at the above address or 1-800-323-8039 Ext. 239 and leave a message if you can help with a place to stay. It will be 5 to 600 miles between Twin Falls and Colorado.

Cumulative miles to Twin Falls: 3,936
Money from the road: $356.54
Unsolicited money from the motoring public: $339.91