For days we walked…

Pamplona lead to Estrella which lead to Logrono. Now, about a week and a half on the trail my experience began to change. They say The Camino is a three part journey. The first is physical. The Pyrenees are treacherous with steep ascents and break-neck drops combined with weather patterns that defy logic. By this point in the trip though the packs weren’t feeling as heavy. Yes I was beaten and blistered from the elements but a sort of resilience was steeling up my body. My legs and stomach were becoming more lean as my shoulders widened to accommodate my weighty pack.

I no longer spent hours upon hours focused on the pain in my legs or the raw skin of my feet rubbing against the sides of my boots. It was then, in those moments of choosing to focus on The Way rather than my physical pain that I broke through the physical barrier. Leaving the city of Logrono, the grand Pyrenees at my back, I journeyed in to the desert region of Najera. The next phase of The Camino was ready to test me. 

The desert region’s (the mental test) intentions became clear my first day on that flat, dry, alien terrain. You spend about two weeks dealing with body pain. Skin cracks, blisters ooze, joints lock, and muscles burn. After you come to terms with the fact that you are just going to hurt for a solid few weeks to come, what’s left? My mind turned inward. As I walked, I now no longer felt the tiny pebble that snuck its way in to my boot or the ache of my shoulders underneath my pack. Now I was walking alone during the day, meeting up with my Pilgrim buddies at night, and I was stuck with the never ending loop of thoughts going through my mind. Questions and musings on love, family, money, sex, career, were all mingled together in a non stop monologue within my brain. Aside from the constant internal chatter there is something incredibly taxing about walking long distance across a vast, flat, desert landscape.

Each day no matter whether it was on the way to Burgos, or Fromist, or Leon I started out being able to see my final destination as a speck on the Western horizon. The thing is, with each step I never seemed to make it any closer to my goal. Logically I knew I was covering ground but because I was at a walking pace the city in the distance never seemed to move. After a few days this is another thing you learn to work through. It’s a Camino lesson in patience and perseverance.

One drop of joy plus courage becomes passion

Shirley MacLaine

One particular day after walking for hours alone I came to a medieval church. There were no beds, just sleeping bags on the ground. It was here, in this radiantly decaying church, I ran in to Gene again. We got word that our friends Vanessa and Katherine had gotten pretty far ahead of us. Gene and I decided to push ourselves the next day and catch up to them. Fifty miles in one day. We could see our destination six hours before we would ever reach it. Other pilgrims we passed told us to stop, we’d never make it. We didn’t stop, we persevered like we were taught. It sucked.

Two broken men shuffled into Burgos that evening

My feet bled from under the toe-nails; Genes’ knee became tight and swollen. When we finally made it into the city we lost the trail and ended up in an industrial area. We lucked out and found a small bar with wi-fi so we could contact the girls and find out what hostel they were in. I have never been happier to log on to Facebook and have a message that those saints of women had booked a fancy hotel…with beds…AND HOT WATER! As I got into bed that night, feet visibly throbbing, I honestly thought I may never walk again. The next morning came and to my surprise my feet had rebounded nicely. A hot bath and a soft bed go a long way…

to be continued!