25 days, 17 states, over 2,800 miles, 8 National Parks, 4 wheels, and 1 man. I woke up under a bright, star-lit sky, sometime in the middle of the night, somewhere in the middle of the Mojave desert. My trip was coming to a close. I had been tested physically, mentally, and spiritually. I had hiked along the crests of the West, swam in the Atlantic, shared grand campfires with wonderful wanderers, written songs and poetry, read tales of those that had come across this land before me. I had discovered small town America and the gigantic outdoors. I knew from the beginning that it would not be easy, but I had hopes that it would be well worth it. Martha and I against the elements, one with nature.