10/16/2005: "Walking for the Wounded"

ig_Tom_Bauschke-1 (28k image) The author at Summerland Camp (5,900 feet) on the East side of Mount Rainier; with 80 miles of trail behind him that he "walked" to raise money for wounded military personnel

By Tom Bauschke

The Wounded Warrior Project

The WWP subsidizes travel, lodging, daycare and food, so families can visit their wounded Soldiers, Marines, Sailors and Airmen. The WWP also delivers much-needed toiletries, clothing and phone cards directly to the injured recovering in military hospitals across the U.S. and overseas. Phone cards are the number one request from wounded at military hospitals.

From September 6th - 14th, I walked the Wonderland Trail 100 miles around Mount Rainier. This trail is much shorter than my others, but there's a more important difference in this walk: I'm raising money for The Wounded Warrior Project (WWP). This remarkable non-profit organization, founded and run by military retirees and veterans, promptly supports wounded men and women returning from Iraq, Afghanistan, Korea and other hot spots around the world. Most of these wounded warriors have permanently debilitating injuries.

Some of you may have followed my previous adventures over these last 10 wonderful years. I began my travels walking the 2,100-mile Appalachian Trail back in 1995. In ‘97 I walked the 2,700-mile Pacific Crest Trail. In 2000 I rode a bicycle 4,800 miles, from Washington D.C. to San Francisco, California coast to coast, on the American Discovery Trail. Most recently, and in 2002, I took a canoe 1,500 miles down the Mississippi River.

I made it all the way around Mount Rainier! 100 miles in 9 days! Support for the walk has been amazing. I even gained pledges for The Wounded Warrior Project from other hikers I met while walking the Wonderland Trail. Some pledgers were even lawyers, if you can believe it!

Per the WWP's web site: Wounded Warrior Project:, "As of December 2004, The Wounded Warrior Project has delivered more than 6,000 ‘Wounded Warrior' backpacks and transitional care packs to service men and women at Bethesda Naval Medical Center, Walter Reed Army Medical Center, Brooke Army Medical Center, Camp Lejeune, the joint VA/DOD Medical Center in Augusta, Georgia and Landstuhl Army Hospital in Germany." Support for the Wounded Warrior Project has been fantastic. My amount raised approaches $2,500. I am thrilled at so much help in taking care of wounded Soldiers, Marines, Sailors, Airmen and their families. THANK YOU ALL!

You can still donate for my Walk for the Wounded by sending a check made out to The Wounded Warrior Project, and mailing it to me (Tom Bauschke, at PO Box 1286, Friday Harbor, WA 98250), or it can be dropped off at the American Legion daily after 3PM. One can also send a check directly to: The Wounded Warrior Project Headquarters, 324 Washington Ave. Suite 1, Roanoke VA 24016-4312. And or course one can even donate online at www.woundedwarriorproject.org. All donations are tax deductible. The WWP's federal ID number is: #20-2370934.

Why here, why now?

I may be able to hike, bike and canoe nearly 12,000 miles, but I'm too old to reenlist in the Army. I turn 40 during this walk. Congress has recently, quietly, raised the military entry age limit to 42, probably for translators or other specific jobs. As the war on terror continues I have a greater need to do my part.

I am not here to be a recruiter for war. I am doing this walk to take care of the wounded returning from war. It's not right to just leave these conflicts up to the young. We should all do our part here or there.

Until the Army tells me they want me back (or I get over my mid-life crisis, whichever comes first), I must settle for doing anything and everything I can for my comrades in arms. I feel combat veterans are America's greatest citizens. So many of them were and still are being asked to pay the ultimate price. I must give them my highest honor and would walk to the very ends of the earth for them.

The wildlife
My first night's camp two Elk came storming through the woods, nearly crushing my tent with me in it. I opened my eyes and saw this huge shadow in the moonlight move over my tent. A hind leg brushed the tent roof and then I heard the two elk splash in the nearby creek and then all was quiet. I thought," They're going to fight over a female, right on top of my chest!" I didn't sleep for a long time after that.
Owls hooted to each other at night. Hawks prowled the skies over meadows during the day. Blue Jays tried swooping lunch right out of my hands. Marmots whistled their alarms as I passed. Deer looked at me with mild interest. Coyotes yipped across meadows. The closest I got to bears was fresh paw prints in the snow and a hint of their "barn yard" odor.

Weather or not
I lucked out and found shelter the only night I needed it. Thunder and lightening kept me awake at the North Mowich River shelter. The roof had a few wandering leaks so I had to keep scooting my sleeping bag around during the night. I couldn't tell if thunder was rockslides or mudflows, so I tossed and turned till dawn.

Late the next morning on Sep. 10th, the trail faded away under new snow. There were many day hikers that came from the Mowich Lake parking lot. Their tracks all ended in a 10 foot diameter circle as they looked for the trail. As I passed them all returning to their cars, I headed up hill to see if I could find the route across the snowfields. Suddenly the clouds and fog lifted and the sun came out allowing me to see a shadow in the snow of the trail ahead.

I crossed Spray Park and Seattle Park at 6,400 feet under a foot of new snow - in sandals. Mine were the only footprints. As I descended down the other side into Cataract Valley, clouds and fog closed in again behind me. That day's crossing was for me alone!

Amidst weather came sun and deep blue sky! Mount Rainier is a spectacularly beautiful mountain especially after a fresh coat of snow. Between snowfields and thick forest I crossed Alpine meadows. Scarlet patches of brush were Huckleberry bushes bright with fall colors. Some days I didn't need to eat lunch as I snacked on sweet ripe berries all day long!

I lost 10 Lbs. by repeatedly climbing and descending more than a mile in a day. Most nights I was asleep in my 20-degree sleeping bag long before dusk. My coldest morning was 28-degrees at Sunrise Walk-in Camp at 6,400 feet.

Timing is everything
Somehow I left my watch back at my car, strangely I never asked anyone for the time during this 9-day walk. Normally I am very obsessive about keeping track of my progress during the day. But this trip, I awoke at first light, packed up and walked. Evenings soon after I cooked dehydrated pasta or rice for dinner the sun set behind Mount Rainier or surrounding mountains so I went to sleep. I loved the simplicity of rising and retiring to the sun.

What have I learned?
My greatest personal lesson for this walk was the fact that I finished – on schedule. YES! I can still do this; even though I turned 40. Some of you may remember my canoe trip down the Mississippi River back in 2002. I made it 1,500 miles from the headwaters in central Minnesota to Memphis, Tennessee and realized I was running short on time and money. So I took a train the last 600 miles to New Orleans, got a cheap room at a hostile and mostly ate my camp food while waiting for my flight back to Seattle.

With little money I had to entertain myself. I almost liked daytime in the French Quarter more than nighttime. Artists displayed their paintings, sculptures and jewelry. The street performers were wonderful. There were many old men sitting on street corners in the French Quarter. Some of them had been sitting at their spot and playing guitar or saxophone for 50 years. Often their songs stopped me in my tracks and gave me goose bumps.

Tony was a mime down by the old market place. His costume was The Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. In full silver face (neck and hands too) he would stand in the 99-degree sun motionless in the humidity for up to an hour and a half at a time. Sweat poured down his face and over his eyes and he never even flinched. I tabulated my budget and had to tip him.

Haunted by failure, I still enjoyed 2 weeks in "The big easy." That first night I danced on Bourbon Street in the French Quarter till the sun came up. Then, exhausted from 6 ½ weeks on the Mississippi River, I slept for two days. There was so much to see in that 24-hour city. I was fascinated by the food, the culture and the incredible diversity of music (day and night). And yes, I showed women my breasts for beads (and visa versa).

Now, in hindsight I'm glad I chose to spend those 2 weeks in New Orleans. I could have gone as far as possible down the river and hoped I found my way out of some backcountry river town to catch my plane in time. After Katrina that city will never be the same again. Life often changes course. I try to follow my path with heart. I'm slowly learning that what may seem like a bad decision at the time may be the right choice in the long run.

Ever forward
After 10 years of hiking, biking and canoeing nearly 12,000 miles, this Wonderland Trail walk has been my most inspiring. Cold, wet hungry and tired I had to keep going. The men and women serving in Iraq, Afghanistan and Korea must carry on. How could I even begin to complain about anything let alone quit?

During this walk I thought much about my Army service from 1985-1988 in what was then West Germany. A Cold War world had already been dealing with terrorists since the 1970's. Civilian cars were being blown up in morning traffic. A nightclub had been bombed. A plane had been blown out of the sky over Lockerby, Scotland. ALL vehicles entering military bases in Europe were meticulously inspected.

We had bombed Muammar al-Qaddafi in Libya on April 15, 1986. I was then assigned to guard military families living in off-post housing. Strange cars sometimes appeared in those neighborhoods. I brought my weapon to port arms and walked straight toward those cars. Some sped away, some did not. I suspected drivers that slowly drove away were more sinister than mere tourists. In the end I was lucky. I didn't have to shoot anyone nor did I get shot or blown up. All the military families were fine and in 1988 I came home in one piece.

The current war on terror involves a much more determined, better-trained and equipped enemy. Not all our military men and women are coming home in one piece. These courageous men and women are carrying a huge emotional and physical burden. These courageous men and women are carrying a huge emotional and physical burden. Find a veteran today. Thank them, welcome them home, remember them, respect them, and hire them.

About the author
My parents emigrated from West Germany in July 1963. I was born and raised in Rockford, Illinois and have been first and always literate in German. With some troubles, I acclimated to English during my early school years. After high school, I lived in Madison, Wisconsin for 2 years attempting college. Bored to death with school I then served 3 years in the U.S. Army in West Germany, and returned to Illinois where I became a volunteer firefighter and EMT for 5 years. The beginning of June 1998 I moved to Seattle and visited my Aunt and Uncle who were vacationing on San Juan Island at the same time. Within a week I moved to Friday Harbor, Washington… and never looked back!