He's off!

His pack enshrouded in a yellow dry cleaner's bag, adorned in a ratty Marine Corps Marathon shirt and pants that even Goodwill would probably reject, our favorite northbounder shook my hand and ambled towards the terminal through a an early morning spring rain. He look more tired than I've ever seen him, brought on by the last week's flurry of final preparations that had limited his sleep to an average of less than three hours per night. But even through his zombie-like stare was an unmistakeable look of excitement tinged with a touch of trepidation. Although we all know that when Bob says he's going to do something you can pretty much bank on it, I think that even he was a little amazed with himself and that he was finally on the way.

By now he has landed in Atlanta, and should be trying to negotiate his way through the jungle that is Hartsfield International. Assuming that the airline didn't lose his pack (it didn't go with Mark - packing problems), he'll meet up with his ride to Springer Mountain where he will check into a motel and wait for Mark to join him. Hopefully, he'll try to get some sleep, because if he decides to walk around town, they may cast him in a remake of Return of the Living Dead. Then, early tomorrow morning, he and Mark will saddle up and start trekking north.

Bob said that he would try to provide an update prior departure. If he does, I'll post it this weekend. Say a prayer for our tired trekker ...