Ken Mitchel, in the final mile of his three-mile walk, isn’t a cheerful soul. His health is not good, his gait hindered by laughable feet, that see him teetering and tottering along the street. His poor eyesight, even a year ago too weak to pass the vision test has become steadily worse, so bad in fact, that a dog lying across the white line in the center of the road looks like a brown blob.