States on Skates

In some states the highway patrol officially classifies him as a pedestrian. In others he is designated "bicycle." Actually, Clint Shaw is a man who is roller-skating across the U.S. from New York to Los Angeles, a 3,100-mile odyssey that he began May 4 and aims to complete in 56 days. An engaging, superbly conditioned ironworker from Victoria, British Columbia, Shaw, 32, who is 6 ft. 1 in., weighs 198 Ibs. and resembles Clint Eastwood, skates about twelve hours at a stretch and has logged as much as 78 miles a day. Previously, he had cross-skated Canada (4,900 miles), a feat that earned him an entry in the Guinness Book of World Records as the world's longest distance roller.

Shaw is convoyed by Andy Turner, a home-town pal driving a green and white Ford camper in which the skater eats at least five meals a day (steak, hamburger or eggs). He has been getting a hero's greeting at small towns en route. He has also been treated at three hospitals for blisters and muscle strains. In Flora, Ill., where TIME'S Dick Woodbury first caught up with the long-distance roller, Shaw was made an honorary citizen by the mayor. In most towns he is besieged by autograph seekers and frequently treated to a free dinner by local worthies. By last weekend, after rolling across rough subsidiary roads in Missouri (he is often refused permission to skate on interstate highways, which would cut his time considerably), he reached Tulsa, Okla., by his reckoning the exact mid-point in his journey. He may also have surpassed Hugh Hefner as the world's biggest Pepsi-Cola guzzler. Pepsi not only put up $1,500 for the trip but also staked the skater to all the pop he could drink, provided that he attire himself in Pepsi T shirts.

The marathon is a frightening contest of wits between Shaw and speeding cars and trucks. On back roads, under a sultry sun, he frequently got enmired in melting tar. Also, everywhere, there are dogs, yelping and nipping at the rolling hero as if he were absconding with the Alpo. He carries a rosary in his left pocket. "I do pray a lot when I'm out there on the highways," he says. "Anything can happen out there." Vehicles are continually bearing down on him, and eluding them requires a special dexterity and alertness. Says Shaw: "Anyone who thinks it's all fun out there is crazy. I may look like a clown, but it's always a life-or-death situation."

Giant Strides. On a clear stretch of highway, Shaw skates with the grace of a slalom skier or dancer. With giant strides of legs and arms, head high, he races westward through the cornfields. One clearly senses that there is more driving him on than the headlines in local papers. For Shaw, there is another dimension of reality out there on the great American asphalt. "Coming down a long hill with the wind at your back and the road to yourself is a high," Shaw says. "It's a thrill you never forget." He sees considerable wildlife and often flushes pheasants.

On less exciting stretches, he passes the time by thinking up doggerel (sample lines: "Roads have a beginning/ Say, don't we all?/ Some roads are long, some people are tall/ ... All roads come to an end/ And the same applies to us, my friend"). He has also written a song entitled Superskater, which he hopes to sell to a country-music producer. He may not get a golden record, but he is already assured of some distinction. He is a cinch to make his second entry in the Guinness Book of World Records, and will donate his skates to the Smithsonian for exhibition in Washington.

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