It's the culmination of a 50-year dream. Paso Robles resident Lyn
Hanush is walking through the snow-capped peaks of the Cascade
mountains and across the golden plains of Nebraska.
She hopes her 4,500-mile trek across the United States spreads a
message of prayer and caring to people around the nation.
Hanush spent two years planning the trip, which will take her
from the Peace Arch in Blaine, Wash., to Key West, Fla.
Hanush, a member of Atascadero Bible Church, said she was excited
to start.
"I cried the first hour," she said. "All this time of planning,
and finally it was here."
She is walking the "Great American Journey" with her 16-year-old
granddaughter, Samantha Hanush-Garrett, and a friend, Joni
Balog.
Six months into the year-long walk across rural America, Hanush
said she thinks her message is getting across.
Bumps in the road
The three women spend about five days a week walking.
Once a week, they move their motorhome to a campsite where they
sleep every night. Part-time walker Balog drives their van back to
the spot they finished the night before. She then drives several
miles ahead, and walks back to meet the other two. The women try to
walk about 20 miles a day.
After the first few days, Hanush's emotions continued to wear
thin.
"I would miss my family and miss my home, then things went wrong
with the van," she said. "But when things went wrong, we'd say 'OK,
we had a schedule, but God had a better schedule.' "
Most of the trip has been great, but Hanush admitted there have
been a few rough patches.
"At the start, we weren't in quite as good shape as we'd hoped to
be," she said. "And now the weather has become an obstacle."
The first few months had temperatures in the 100s, she said. Now,
they're walking through snow.
On the homefront
Leaving her husband, David, at home in Paso Robles has also been
difficult.
"My wife was more concerned about me than I was for her," David
Hanush said.
Though he misses her, he visited his wife in Washington in May,
in Wyoming in September and plans to meet up with them at Christmas
in Missouri and when they finish in May. They also speak on the
phone three or four times a week.
"It's hard, but I just live with it," he said. "Whenever I start
feeling sorry for myself, I look at friends whose wives have died or
they're divorced, and I think this is a whole lot better than
that."
He hadn't thought of joining her, mostly because of his job. The
long distance also gets to him.
"I die after three miles," he said.
Dispelling myths
Some of the highlights of Hanush's trip so far have been meeting
people that others warned them not to.
"We've had places where people have warned us not to go there,"
Hanush said. "But we felt God was leading us to go there
anyway."
One of her favorite places so far has been one people warned them
against -- the Crow Indian Reservation in Montana.
"We found the response there to three women walking was just
incredible," she said. "People worry about the things that go on
there. But when you get there, these are real people just like
us."
The trip to the reservation also taught her a vital life lesson
that she can use at home, she said.
"It made me think: Who do I have prejudices against in our area?"
she said. "I'll think twice about who I would avoid or tell people
to avoid."
At each city limit or welcome sign, the group leaves a rock with
the date, names and a prayer for the people of the town.
People along the way have been very supportive, Hanush said. Some
walk with them, others offer help.
And though she's on the road, Hanush will attend church every
Sunday. She and her team members scout out a new Christian church
every town they enter.
Long-distance walker
Though this is by far her longest, Hanush has completed
long-distance walking trips before. In 1983, she walked the entire
California coast. In 1993, she walked the Oregon and Washington
coast.
Friends and family have been very supportive, David Hanush
said.
And though the women have encountered a herd of bison and Balog
has stepped on a rattle snake, Hanush said she hasn't been scared of
being on the road.
"We've had total freedom," she said.