Video: DeWitt On The Trail | Video: DeWitt’s Gear

Thirty years ago I was on the cusp of graduating from a small high school on an Air Force base once known as Hahn in a country once known as West Germany. One of my closest friends was Barbara Klinke, a German girl who was the daughter of the town doctor. We’d grown up together and now stood on the threshold of adulthood, infused with the serum of endless possibilities.

One day, as we hiked in the woods near her house, Barbara confided to me that she dreamed of following in her father’s footsteps. She would become a doctor and, one day, take over her father’s practice. I revealed to her that my dream was to travel to the remote corners of the world and write about them. I had never before told anyone because no one but Barbara would have believed it.

Two weeks later I was a high school graduate and on my way to the United States and a disaterous year at the University of Florida. I never saw or spoke with Barbara Klinke again.

My year as a Gator gave way to a four-year enlistment in the Marine Corps. I was an infantryman, otherwise known as a grunt. Grunts are provided endless opportunities to backpack and camp in some of the most remote corners of the world. Although the Corps strongly encourages self-improvement, developing the writer’s art is understandably absent from it’s infantry training doctrine.

The years following my service are a blur of footloose backpacking, motorcycle touring and a couple of marriages. I settled down, worked a few jobs and somehow wound up as a hazardous materials emergency responder. I started a business, had some luck and raised a family. I became a Boy Scout leader when my son grew old enough to join. With 20 more like him in tow, we backpacked, climbed, camped and paddled every chance we got, and for the first time, I wrote about it. Climbing Magazine published it.

I was 45 years old and needed no further encouragement. I sold my business to the first buyer who showed the slightest interest and resolved to become a journalist. Everyone with my best interests at heart did their best to talk me out of it. The most convincing of these was a friend of mine who is a veteran editor at the Tampa Tribune. When finally he found me terminally unreceptive to reason, he arranged for me to interview for a correspondent position. I managed somehow to land the gig and for the past three years have enjoyed the privilege of writing weekly outdoor stories for the Tampa Tribune.

A couple of weeks ago I suggested the idea of hiking the Florida Trail from end-to-end and writing weekly stories of the people and places that are the custodians of what may be Florida’s greatest and least-known treasure. The response from the Tampa Tribune was overwhelmingly positive. I have not stopped smiling since that time.

In seven days I will awaken on the Florida-Alabama line and make the first of the 2.3 million steps - a distance of about 1078 miles - that will lead me to the heart of the Everglades. For two and a half months I will walk in some of the most remote corners of Florida and at the end of each day -technology gods willing-I will write to you. My hope is to do that well enough for you to feel as if you are right there with me - every step of the way.

And Barbara Klinke? I heard that she’s married with a couple of kids. And that her practice is doing very nicely, thank you.