A Walking Man

As the story goes, a Texas rancher is describing his ranch to a farmer from Virginia. “I can get in my truck in the morning and start driving west and by dinner time I still wouldn’t have gotten to the edge of my property,” the rancher says.  The Virginia farmer is silent for few moments, as if pondering the Texan’s words, then replies, “I used to have a truck like that.”

But seriously, our farm is a modestly sized piece of land compared to the huge tracts farmed in the west and midwest.  But it’s plenty big for us. It makes for lots of walking.

We have a utility vehicle that can get us around the farm pretty quickly, but most of the time I choose to walk.  It’s .3 miles from our house to the front part of our farm, .7 miles from our house to the eastern edge and about a half mile (I’m guessing) from our house to the northern edge.  I walk nearly a mile every morning to do my chores and over the course of a day I probably walk several miles on average.

Walking is excellent exercise of course and it’s good to ambulate without spewing fumes, burning fossil fuel and making noise.

All the walking I do has caused me to notice how little most folks tend to walk.  I’ve even seen gardening videos on youtube of a guy showing how to plant potatoes from the seat of a utility vehicle, presumably to avoid having to actually walk while doing it.

I like to walk.  I don’t like the idea of not being able to do it.  Given the choice, and absent any rush, whenever possible I’d rather than walk than drive.

I reckon I’m a walking man.