I get into a conversation at Vista Point, at the north end of the Golden Gate Bridge with an Irishman who’s walking from Santa Cruz to the Oregon border. His name is Major Finbar O’Shaughnessy of Hollywood, Ireland, which is just outside Dublin. Even though he’s sweating up a storm after five days journey with a heavy backpack and camping outdoors, I offer to drive him into Sausalito for free. He’s fallen behind his pack of hiking buddies and I don’t think he’ll break any rules in order to catch up. I ask him about the soldier camouflage he’s wearing, so he tells me he’s on a furlough from a 4-year tour of duty in Afghanistan with the Royal Irish Mounted Rangers. He’s going back into service after this adventure. The guy’s in shape and looks about 40 years-old but he tells me he has seven grown kids back home and a (knowing) wife. He’s lived a full life and he's a lifer with a few weeks of independence to call his own. After the drop off, he insists on sending me a bottle of Irish whisky when he returns home, for the favor I provide. Cheerio, mate.