A Hiker Like Anyone Else
Recounting a blind woman’s cross-country hike
by Ed Talone
I
stood on a switchback and looked out over the Mojave Desert.
I had come from Mexico some 150 miles on the Pacific Crest
Trail. The day before in Idyllwild, California, I had met up with Sue
Lockwood and Gordon Smith. The brother and sister team were
at the campground there enjoying a day off. They were acting as a
support team for two Pacific Crest Trail thru-hikers who were off the
trail for a spell.
While we talked Gordon casually asked if Sue could join my walk
tomorrow over to the road at Cabazon. He added that she would
have Mac, her guide dog, along. I said “sure,” and we agreed to meet
the next day in Snow Creek Canyon.
Now I just had to find them…
The road was empty, so I called Sue’s name. “I’m over here,” she
answered. “Over here” was under a large Manzanita bush with her
guide dog. It turned out that Sue had been waiting for three hours!
She explained that she did not know how fast I walked and did not
want to miss a chance to hike. The solution was to get there at 6 a.m.
and wait.
I was stunned, but I soon learned that almost nothing would stop
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FALL 20092010
Sue Lockwood if there was a trail to hike.
That first hike led to more as I headed north. The high desert
was perfect for a diabetic who had to keep her feet dry. Sue’s guide
dog Mac was so dependable that Sue usually set the pace. The only
exceptions were brushy areas where I resembled the sweeper in a
curling match, clearing the trail as we went.
Weeks later along the John Muir Trail Sue defied medical advice
and decided that she had to experience hiking above 10,000 feet.
Over 19 miles and two passes I described as much scenery as I
could. Sue blacked out twice, but both times Gordon was there to
revive her. She knew this was a once in her life event, so she gave it
everything.
Another goal was realized in California as Sue went backpacking
for the first time in nearly two decades. Constant dialysis made this
difficult. This special day went perfectly until a stumble only 100
yards from camp resulted in a broken leg. Leaving Sue in the care of
my friend Rob (an EMT) I hiked out and arranged for a helicopter
rescue. Sue recounted the “exciting ride” to everyone she knew.
Many people would have ended the summer there, but Sue
Wow charmed us, but
covered another 150 miles on crutches, finding it safer than having
Wounded Knee made
me push her in a wheelchair…something about hills!
us ache. Sue was rolling
Sue used the summer of 1993 to get back in shape by covering
now, often needing
long stretches of the Continental Divide Trail. Our next big hike
little or no insulin and
was the North Country Trail in 1994. Hiking was more challenging
feeling great. The key
now, as Sue faced dialysis four times daily. This was accomplished
was no days off because
with Gordon’s help in their van while I sat quietly wearing a surgical
everything was in
mask. The procedures were done at midnight, dawn, lunch and
balance.
dinner. Despite this, Sue covered nearly 3,000 miles over eight
months.
See Sue,
These trips were prelude to the dream we both shared -- to walk
continued on page 6
across the entire country. We talked of it as the winds blew in North
Dakota. We aimed for 1997, but Sue’s body was giving out. Gordon
saved her life with a donated kidney. A second kidney came nearly a
year later from an anonymous donor, as Sue reached the top of the
nation’s transplant list. Once during recovery, her heart stopped.
Her explanation to the surgeon was, “don’t worry, it’s happened
before.”
Finally, in late 1998 the way seemed clear. To test her stamina, we
covered 288 miles in 20 days across Illinois that fall. The winter was
spent furiously planning the route. Our starting point was neither
coast, but rather Alton, Illinois. The reason was that Sue’s doctor
worried about the effect of summer heat on the transplanted kidney.
The first day as we crossed the Mississippi river at Alton, Sue had
one more decision to make. Gordon, ever protective of his sister,
favored covering the route over two years. He was waiting by the trail
at about 4 p.m. to let her decide. She never hesitated, saying only,
“we’re not done yet.” The subject never came up again.
Fully underway, we followed the KATY Trail across much of
Missouri, sharing campsites used by Lewis & Clark under towering
limestone bluffs. Next, steep, narrow roads took us up to Iowa and
postcard towns along the Wabash Trace. We entered Nebraska via
a narrow bridge thanks to a toll collector who stopped traffic. This
was another world. For three
days, winds as high as 70
miles an hour blasted us. At
times we had to walk in the
opposite direction to make
any progress. More than
once we were flattened.
Next up was the Cowboy
Trail. For 249 lonely miles
we followed a path across
endless fields and later
beneath the largest sand
dunes I’d ever seen. At
Johnstown, Nebraska, we
met Otto Rosfeld who played
the music of those hills on
his guitar just for us. That
area, Cherry County, was
so empty that there was
no school there until 1933.
Lacking trees and materials,
the school was built of sod.
At the South Dakota
border, we left our country
Opposite page: Sue near Blue Mountain Lake, CA on the PCT, just before breaking her leg. Top: Sue on the Mickelson Trail. Middle: Sue and Ed Talone on
and entered the Lakota
the North Country Trail in Michigan. Above: Sue and her guide dog on the Buckeye Trail in Ohio. Ed Talone & Gordon Smith.
Sioux Nation. A Native Pow
American Hiker | SUMMER 2010
5
Sue, continued from page 5
The Sioux loved Sue and her new guide
dog, Buddy. One woman, Charlotte Two
Bulls, drove 60 miles over bad roads to give
us $6.75 in change for lunch. With it we
enjoyed Indian Tacos in Pine Ridge.
Too soon, we left the Sioux behind and
followed a spectacular trail through the
Black Hills. The Mickelson Trail featured
a number of long trestles and four rock
tunnels. Trail’s end at Deadwood marked
another milestone for Sue as she covered
the marathon distance for the first time.
Wyoming was only 17 miles, but we
learned about clay-like material called
Bentonite that is a main ingredient in many
chocolate bars. Chocolate lovers should
avoid this area!
Montana welcomed us at the town
of Olive, population three, and then got
desolate. We were headed for Miles City
and an abandoned railroad called The
Milwaukee Road. It stretched some 2,200
miles from Chicago to Tacoma, Washington.
We would follow it off and on for more than
1,000 miles. Here, we counted tumbleweeds,
followed the enchanting Musselshell River,
joined a parade in Roundup and sampled
pan fried steak in Martindale, Montana in
the shadow of an electric locomotive.
At this point we decided to head for
eastern Washington to again avoid severe
heat. Along the way, we planned to stop at
Missoula for Sue’s routine medical tests.
Everything was perfect…and then suddenly
the hike was over.
Doctors there found an infection and told
Sue that two toes had to be amputated. She
called her doctor, Dr. Khanna in Missouri,
and was told to come home. She did not
hang up the phone for four hours. When she
did, we had a plan, and hope. We headed for
Spokane, Washington, to visit a colleague
of Dr. Khanna whom he trusted. There,
we took our only day off in nine months.
While Sue had surgery, Gordon repaired a
wheelchair and I prayed. The surgery went
smoothly and Sue could walk without pain,
but she had to keep her foot sterile for three
weeks, hence the wheelchair.
Now I walked and Sue rolled across much
“These trips were prelude to the dream we both shared -to walk across the entire country. We talked of it as the winds
blew in North Dakota. We aimed for 1997, but Sue’s body
was giving out. Gordon saved her life ... and finally, in late
1998, the way seemed clear.”
Above: On the plains of North Dakota; Top of page: Sue and Ed on the North Country Trail in Michigan. Gordon Smith & Ed Talone.
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American Hiker | SUMMER 2010
of the state of Washington. Highlights
included the Seattle ferry crossings and
the mile-long Hood Canal Floating Bridge.
Crossing this was tricky as there are no
shoulders. I pushed Sue while Gordon
walked in front of us to block oncoming
traffic. Out near Cape Flattery, Washington,
Sue dipped a bottle into the Pacific Ocean
and added it to water she had collected from
the Mississippi River. We celebrated the end
of our westward travels with my parents in
Seattle and a celebration lunch atop the
Space Needle.
Sue and I were briefly separated here as
she completed medical follow-ups to
her surgery. At one point she left arrows
on the trail to ensure that I would not
be lost. We were reunited at the 2.3
mile long Snoqualmie Tunnel. Sue was
walking again as we headed east to
complete Washington.
Idaho was entirely along the route
of the Milwaukee Road. It started in
St. Maries with a crossing of an active
2,200-foot trestle, followed by an active
tunnel. We entered a café there to see if
it was safe to cross, as we had heard it
was closed. I asked the question to one
man who laughed and said, “I know
it’s closed because I run that train.”
Back on trail, we passed over 11 major
trestles and through nine tunnels in
one 17-mile stretch. We actually had
to pay $7.50 each for the privilege of
walking this segment. It landed us back
in Montana after we made an arduous climb over a pass to avoid the
still unopened 1.8-mile Taft Tunnel.
We descended to Missoula in happier circumstances, and then
left the Milwaukee Road Trail to cross the Continental Divide at
Stemple Pass. Near Townsend, Montana, we passed 3,000 miles and
left the Missouri River behind. Finally, on August 18th, we arrived
back in Martindale, Montana, and the West was done. After a four
day trip by van, we again crossed the Mississippi River at Alton,
Illinois and headed east.
East for now meant north, up the Mississippi to Nauvoo, Illinois
to connect with our hike of the previous fall. One last van ride
across the state took us to Park Forest, Illinois where that hike
began. Indiana was next and was highlighted by a visit from
Sue’s brother Floyd and his wife Luene. Together we visited
the family farm at Burnettsville and hiked together for a few
early without creating real danger for herself. We had to get through,
so we found a way. From here, narrow dangerous roads laden with
coal trucks led us to Pennsylvania.
Trails now blazed with fall color and the nights froze hard. At
Rockwood, Pennsylvania, we sat in old seats from Pittsburgh’s’
Forbes Field and celebrated reaching 4,000 miles together. Sue just
said, “I’m gonna miss this.”
Quaint towns and stunning views kept us going. We arrived at Big
Savage Tunnel to find it flooded and therefore closed to us. A brutal
climb up and over the mountain brought us to the Mason-Dixon
Line.
Above: Sue celebrates her first time hiking 2,000 miles; A postcard keepsake from their
cross-country thru hike. right: long before her thru-hike, Sue was featured, for her
fearlessness, in the missouri medical review. Patrick Nichols; Missouri Medical Review.
days. After a rugged segment along the undeveloped Cardinal
Greenway, we entered Ohio.
Ohio featured a number of scenic riverside trails, haunting ghost
towns, and our only encounter with an aspiring thief. At Chillicothe,
as we slept, the side door of the van opened. A young man poked his
head in. After being greeted by three hikers and a growling dog, he
advised us to “keep it real” and left.
At Parkersburg, we crossed the Ohio River and entered West
Virginia. We followed a series of spectacular rail trails that included
14 tunnels that predated the Civil War. At one point, a barbed wire
fence closed the trail so that the EPA could remove soil poisoned by
heavy metals. Vowing to eat no soil, we scaled the fence and finished
the trail. Lest anyone think that we did this lightly, keep in mind that
in remote areas, Sue did not have the option of retreat, or stopping
After another family celebration in Cumberland, Maryland,
we joined the C&O Canal. Gordon and Sue were both stunned
by its beauty. “Why do you hike anywhere else?” Sue asked. Our
campsites were along the Potomac River, and just perfect. All was
well until a fluke storm hit at Dargan’s Bend. Within minutes the
towpath was flooding and we were only saved by a handicapped
restroom that had a ramp. Sue waited above the floodwaters while I
flagged down a car. Within minutes Sue was back at the van and able
to dry her feet.The next day, we passed through the Catoctins and all
mountains were behind us.
See Sue, continued on page 8
AmErIcAn HIkEr | SUmmEr 2010
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Sue, continued from page 7
The miles flew by now. A few days later, we passed through
Maryland University’s Cole Field House during a basketball practice.
Sue, a former basketball coach herself, asked me to describe the
drills and then proceeded to tell me what each accomplished. It was
interesting to hear a coach’s point of view. That same day, two longsought permissions came through.
First, we were escorted through the private portion of the
Patuxent National Research Center. We followed old grassy country
lanes and crossed a number of stone bridges here. The second was a
very special gift to Sue from friends she never knew. For more than
a year we had been trying to get permission to walk across the 4.3mile Chesapeake Bay Bridge. Now the day was at hand.
We entered the administration building and sipped coffee while
traffic cones were put out blocking one lane of the “old” bridge. Next
we passed through a neat tunnel (our 64th of the trip) under the toll
booths. Then we were over the water! The people driving by were
wonderful, waving, calling encouragement and honking horns. Sue
was overcome and waved back trying to take it all in. Halfway across
she asked me, “Did they do this just for me?”
“They sure did,” I said.
Too soon it ended, but Sue called it the highlight of the trip. It was
mine too, just to see her smile like that. Sue never sought attention,
but on that day she made an exception and it was wonderful to see.
The end was in sight as we entered Delaware. Barren fields
covered with frost marked our route. Seagulls appeared, along with
the first sand dunes since Nebraska. At the crest of a final dune,
we were handed balloons sent by Sue’s brother. With Gordon, my
parents, brother and others watching, we made our way to the surf
and touched the Atlantic.
We hugged. Sue said quietly, “We did it!”
I couldn’t speak.
Sue added Atlantic Ocean water to her stash from the Pacific and
the Mississippi, then handed me the bottle. I look at it every day.
Sue Lockwood died in November 2007. Whenever she was asked
about her hiking, she always said “I’m a hiker just like anyone else.”
Others wanted her to discuss obstacles and offered the enticement
of fame, but she only saw challenges to be
overcome. Those of us who had the honor of
hiking with her never saw her fail, because she
never failed to give life everything she had.
Want to discuss this more? Ask
Ed, the author, questions about this
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Above: Ed proudly carries Sue’s water bottle on American Hiking’s 2010 Hike on the national malll; a postcard sent to Ed
when Sue reached 1,000 in 1993. Heather Sable.
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AmErIcAn HIkEr | SUmmEr 2010