Days 144 - 149 - Virginia Onward - 2834 miles from home
- Esther Lisa Tishman
- Nov 29, 2025
- 5 min read
Updated: Nov 30, 2025
Pilgrimages don't really end, I think - any more than the air we breathe ends when it enters our lungs.
I'm writing these words from the gorgeous home of Mary and Dave Hale in Falls Church, Virginia - just a few blocks from the Washington & Old Dominion Trail that we'll be hiking tomorrow... as we trek our very last 13 miles to the Lincoln Memorial.
So. The end of the trail is almost literally in sight. But the pilgrimage has been all those things that cannot, that should not end. The things that shape and reshape us, cellularly.
This pilgrimage, like all pilgrimages, has been an act of faith, a practice of patience and will, a prayer of thanksgiving. Oh yes, and it has been love. Love in action? Love at 3.4 mph?
I have fallen in love over and over again, over the last 149 days. So many beautiful people - the smiles, the stories, the hugs, the full-throated laughter. The moments where we nod, catch each others' eyes, share the stories we all have - the stories of heartbreak and worry - the daughter having exploratory surgery, the husband that died suddenly, the family farm that has been sold. And the landscapes, the critters, the roadside dogs. Walking the rolling white gravel roads of southeastern Iowa, as the combines rumbled through the harvest. The hail storm at the Togwotee Pass, cold and creative against my skin. The piliated woodpecker up in the trees above me, as I soaked in Deb and Neal's hot tub (a hot tub!!!) on Thanksgiving morning.
And so yes, Thanksgiving. The past few days we have been hosted in three different communities, held in deep trust and intimacy three more times. Our last church stay was a bookend to our very first stay: Presby to Presby. We began this trek 149 days ago, hosted by church elder Nancy Ashley and ruling elder Karen Keady at the McKenzie Valley Presbyterian Church in Walterville, Oregon.
And on Monday night, another fabulous Presbyterian church - with its powerhouse leaders and phenomenal female pastor - fed us and hosted us lovingly and energetically - so much laughter - so much help with routing and the trail ahead of us - and, finally, so many extraordinary stories! (Josh, we will never forget about the ladder - yes, you're the guy - stay safe with doing all the things!)
At St. Andrew, Pastor Amanda made us chicken enchiladas - Josh and Kirsten Shields brought Spanish rice, Leslie brought the seven-layer dip - and there was even some Negro Modelo to gently wash things down. This Church serves the area with an extremely robust preschool - affordable child care is a critical need in Loudon County - and a vibrant and affirming core mission, anchored in the strong music and liturgy of the denomination. What a treat to hear the choir rehearse in the background, as we settled into the cozy youth room for the night. At dinner Susan Yantis, St. Andrew's music director, shared with us her love of the Presbyterian hymnal. "It's all Scottish folk melodies!" The living and deep sacred roots nurture everything.
That evening, we also got the opportunity to meet Josh and Kirsten's oldest daughter, Hailey. It was reassuring to realize that the pilgrimage doesn't just 'speak to' GenX'ers and Boomers. "Can't I skip school and walk with them tomorrow?" Yet despite the entreaties, somehow pre-calc and French superseded trekking poles and water bottles. Sigh. We feel her pain... And the next day, as the trail took me literally through the parking lot of Hailey's high school, I snapped a pic and shared it with Josh... who himself joined us for seven miles on the Washington & Old Dominion. (No, it's not fair, Hailey. Parents get all the perks!)
Our last days of walking are all almost entirely on the Washington & Old Dominion - a 'rails to trails' path that is beloved of area cyclists and walkers. The trail is pretty - with flashes of beauty, as we carve through the back hills of northern Virginia. But the highlights over these days have been our human connections. The folks at St. Andrew. Bob reconnecting - after 50 years! - with Ken Erickson, a friend from his running days at Cornell. My reconnecting, after just a few months, with my dear pal Sara Hodges - who hiked 10 miles with us yesterday. And then there were Mary and Dave Hale - Mary whom I know from the worlds of mindfulness and archetype work with the Tarot, but had never met in person. The Hales welcomed us ragamuffins into their beautiful home on the day after Thanksgiving, with almost no notice - and then treated us to what truly may be the 'world's best fajitas' (oh my goodness, people - the restaurant is called Silverado and the menu doesn't lie.)
And, then, there's just the deep solace of family. Including the true trail family that Bob and Elijah and I have become. Along with my hubby and my stepson, in from the west coast, we three pilgrims spent the holiday with Deb and Neal Tishman, my awesome in-law hosts.
Deb and Neal: I can't even begin to thank you for your love and support, your unflagging kindness. For your "Sunrise Room," and your hot tub, and your beautiful home, and your magical kitchen. For the freaking DELICIOUS spatchcocked turkey (really, is that what it's called??) - and for the corn casserole which couldn't possibly have tasted any better, Deb... I'm sorry to disagree!
Family is everything, people. And/but - this trek has confirmed for me that the world is much smaller, and our families are much larger, than we ever knew.
Happy Holidays everyone. I'll see you again from the other side of the Mall. xoxo
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I'll pass on sampling a jalapeno cheddar pretzel but perhaps Heather Cox Richardson (Robinson?), who recently characterized Trump as having tapioca for brains, would tuck into such a delicacy.
Please keep warm and gastronomically secure.