Walk On

A Philly man will walk across the country. He's not sure why, either.

by Eric Pettersson

Neal Santos WALKING MAN: Mike Gallagher and his 40-pound backpack will spend the next year or so traversing the country, en route to San Francisco.

[ from here to there ]

"I'll kill you."

Mike Gallagher isn't joking. His dream is to walk across the country, from Philadelphia to San Francisco; he's put months of time and preparation into this adventure, and he'll be damned if he gives it up to some two-bit mugger. He'll be carrying some small knives, mace and a police baton that his father, who used to work for the FBI, bought him for protection.

Still, he hardly cuts an imposing figure.

His thin frame is covered with tight-fitting clothes, topped with thick-rimmed glasses and long, choppy red hair. After a stint touring as a videographer for his friends' underground rock bands (most notably on Warped Tour '05), he ended up working a "geeky" job as an IT guy for St. Joseph's University. He's trained by reading about other peoples' similar journeys in the past, and going on 12- to 20-mile walks with his loaded backpack daily.

But still, he's never done anything quite like this before; he's not an outdoors enthusiast. "But that's kind of how I want it to be," he says. "I don't want to be this super-prepared outdoorsy guy. ... I want to be like any ordinary person just thrown into a situation like this."

And he is taking a decidedly urban, tech-guy approach to what is, essentially, a cross-country camping trip that officially began April 5, his 27th birthday. He'll camp on the side of the road or use couchsurfing.org to find places to stay. He's meeting up with a photographer friend in Indiana. In Michigan, he'll stay with a woman who is currently boating from Brazil to Boston, and who will then bike from Boston, through Canada, to Michigan.

Every two weeks or so he'll find a real camp site and take a shower. Gallagher will have about 40 pounds on his back — a tent, sleeping bag, small stove, some freeze-dried food, a change of clothes, a solar charger for his cell phone and camera and myriad other necessary tools— making the pace a slow and steady 10 to 20 miles per day, as he travels northwest to Wyoming and then down the Pacific Crest Trail. (See his full route on Google Maps by following the link on his blog, thewalk2010.com.)

As he goes, he will be blogging daily from his phone and filming constantly; the goal is to eventually turn his adventure into a documentary. The blog (along with Twitter and ustream.tv) will capture the daily happenings of the trip, allowing the world to join Gallagher on his walk, getting a glimpse of both the country and his year of solitude.

"It's not just a point-A-to-point-B thing," he says. "It's going to be a serious analysis of one person's head, when they have nothing to do but think about what they've done, what's going on, what they want to do."

But why is he doing it? Good question.

When he first told friends of his plans, he says he had no clue what the answer was. He just felt it was something he had to do. "I'm still kind of fuzzy on the whole, exactly, 'why' thing," he says.

One part, he says, is simply the love of travel. It's a chance to see new places closer-up than is possible in a car. A second part — probably the most significant — is that for Gallagher, this trek represents a rite of passage. "I have this really kind of sick feeling that my whole life I've had my hand held for every part of it," he says. "I feel like I've accomplished a small amount, you know, but I really want to do something that's 100 percent me, and big."

Looking at himself in a cubicle one day, he thought, "No, I don't want this. This is really scary, because I could do this for the rest of my life." His journey, then, begins by stepping outside of the standard American narrative — high school, college, career — and onto a path created on his own terms. (His last day of work was March 30.)

While the blog will consist of simple updates on the walk, keeping a careful balance between newsy and personal elements, the documentary will be more introspective, exploring the inner workings of Gallagher's thoughts and feelings. He speaks of the walk with such importance that it almost takes on a spiritual nature. He is clear, however, that this is not a religious journey.

"I used to go to church every day, and I used to be president of [the Fellowship of Christian Athletes] in high school and I did that whole thing. And then I went to college and I realized that a lot of religions are pretty equal, and have a lot of the same beliefs."

Still, having that background has influenced the way in which Gallagher has gone about planning this journey.

For starters, he knew he couldn't take much with him and he didn't want to pay rent back home while he was away, so he just gave away everything he owned to people who needed it.

"Even though I'm not Christian anymore," he says, "I'm still a very spiritual guy and I'm a big believer in just not being a douche to people, which in my opinion is what all religions teach. Just don't be a dick, you know? Just avoid being a dick, and you'll be fine. Some of my friends are less fortunate than me, so I just ended up giving a lot of my stuff to them, trying to improve their life a little."

He experienced setbacks even before hitting the road — or, at least, the sidewalk — including the need for a new tent. One morning, after a practice camping run, he woke up to find it raining inside; he also discovered that he had a batch of malfunctioning camera memory cards. And then there's his miscalculation: He originally thought that if he walked 10 miles per day, he'd make it to the Emerald City in six months. Turns out, he was wrong: It could take twice that long.

"I made an egregious error," he confessed on his blog.

Gallagher began the morning of his departure at friend Max's house on Second and Federal streets in South Philly, where he was eating breakfast.

Max was fiddling with the radio.

"Do you listen to PBR every morning?" Gallagher asked. He meant NPR, and quickly caught himself: "Can I have a PBR?"

His friend asked if he seriously wanted a beer, at 8 a.m. "Do you have an IPA?"

His friend did, in fact: Victory Hop Devil, his favorite.

"I could use the carbs," Gallagher replied.

(eric.pettersson@citypaper.net)