One fine Sunday, February, 1997

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            Bob and his oldest son William, then 25, were taking advantage of a rare opportunity to stroll along a trail in Patuxent Wildlife Refuge.  Will, who had been working long and strange hours, and stuffing the remaining time with participation in several soccer leagues, took a deep breath of the woods and listened to the songs of birds in the trees and of the Canada Geese in the lake.  He shared his feelings with his dad. 

            He remembered the 1985 camping trip from Silver Spring, Maryland to “The West” that our family had taken together and how much that had meant to him.  He said that someday, when he has children of his own, he feels that he has to do the same thing for them.  On that 1985 trip, there were six of us: Bob as Dad, Ann as Mom, Judy age 17, Marie age 14, Will age 12, and Brennan age 5.

            The trip was that special of a gift to Will, a legacy that he felt obligated by love to pass on to a future generation.   Bob understood, because his parents had done a similar thing for him back in 1960. 

            To truly experience what this country is all about, how big it is, you have to spend a significant journey, at ground level, watching it go by for days at a time, stopping to smell the aroma, feel the breezes, get wet in its rains, endure its heat and its cold, notice its regions, wonder, “Are we there yet?”, meet its people, and see its sunsets behind the towering mountains.