I didn't plan on killing people when I walked across America.

I made a list of things I wanted to do, and murder was not on it.

Yes, I killed people. A lot of people.

Now I'm going to tell you a story, a (somewhat) true story, about two killers and a hunting adventure like no other. A story of a man whose entire life was turned upside-down by a frozen, floating head and balls and a woman he'd never slept with. A story of a man so broken he rescued a dog and set out across America on foot to mend his soul and hunt that bitch down. A story of death, discovery, and carne asada. A story that should never, ever, encourage you to walk across America.

However, if it does, for some sick reason, inspire you to lace up some sneakers and attempt to do what only a dozen or so people accomplish each year, I'll throw in some pointers to help you out.

I am a murderer, but I am also a giver.