Grey Skies and Gratitude

The day began under grey skies and a threat of rain.  During the night, there had been thunderstorms all along our proposed route.  However, we gathered as usual for breakfast to fuel our bodies for the day’s trek.  Some of our group looked a bit groggy from the festivities of last night, but we were ready to go.

I passed on the first 5 kilometers of the journey that included a 3-mile climb of 600 feet.  I stopped into a hostel where Lorenzo had stayed on many of his Caminos in the past.  He was greeted with hugs and kisses and I got a nice look at the facilities and also some of the Peregrinos who were getting ready to start their day.  

Twinkle and Tally Ho joined me on the bus and we rode to Foncebadon.  This left us with a 1.5 mile segment with only 300 ft. to climb to reach La Cruz de Ferro (Iron Cross).  The cross is a simple structure at the top of the highest point on the Camino.  It is customary for pilgrims to bring a rock from their home town and leave it at the foot of this cross, signifying the leaving behind of past problems and hangups.  I walked the last 500 meters or so with a Dutchman I met on the way.  We talked about the world’s environment (he was an environmental engineer) and, also about American Indians when he found that I had worked with the Tribes here in the States.

I had a few pictures taken of me at the Cross and a number of shots where I posed with Simon.  Sadly, they were taken with his camera and I forgot to have them taken on my iPhone.  Oh well, his gentle demeanor and our conversation will remain with me in my memories.  After the pictures,  I took off on my own.  Twinkle and Tally Ho lingered at the site much longer.

I walked briskly (for me) down the other side of the mountain.   The views from this mountainside trek was absolutely the most beautiful that I have ever seen.  It is just indescribable. 

Actually, I had a stint of about 20 minutes where no one passed me and I thought this a bit unusual.  I came across a note that was placed on a bench by another pilgrim as a message to a friend.  I could not make out the writing but it made me think of pioneers along the old American West.

After about another ten minutes without having anyone passing me, I became a bit nervous.  Did I take the wrong turn somewhere?  I was reassured shortly when I came finally came across another of the Camino markers on a 

rock.

I reached Manjarin where the next checkpoint was designated but did not find anyone there.  I sat and at an apple and was just about to pull out my emergency phone when I saw Ignacio and Lorenzo pull up.  They were a bit surprised to see me at the check point already.  Oh, check point is ‘punta de control’ as I learned from Ignacio.  He speaks no English but I try to learn a new word every day from him.  It is our little game.  I told them that I had already rested and anxious to be on my way.  I knew that I only had seven kilometers to go but from my earlier perusal of the map, much of it was steep downhills and those are a problem for me.

I passed many dogs today.  My mythical friend Jake as always is with me and he could communicate with his brethren.  When I asked Jake what they were saying, he grinned and said “tell your human to ‘cowboy up’, the going is going to be rough today.” Jake likes his little jokes.

His friends were right.  

A lot of the trail was ‘single track’ which once again posed problems for using the crutches.  I had to use my mulettas as trekking poles which forced a lot more weight onto my heel.  As I am writing this now, I can feel much more pain than I have had since I’ve started this walk.  I have found that I am grateful for the simplest things.  Today, I found myself being grateful for a path that was wide enough for me crutches to be used.  Much of the downhill path was not only steep but shale with a lot of loose rock.  This made my going extremely slow.  My arms were more than a bit weary and I was grateful whenever I reached ground that was level.

Four French peregrinos stopped to ask me about my legs.  Mrs. Mann, my junior high school French teacher would have been proud of me.  I made as much a conversation as possible.  One of the older gentleman removed my hat and gave my head a rub, gave my cheek a pat, and wished me well.  They actually waited for me at one spot where there was water to traverse and extended a trekking pole and helped me across.  Yes, another reason for gratitude.

As I finally got closer to Acebo, our final destination for the day, it began to rain.  By this time, all of the other members of my group had caught me.  Iron Man and Hollywood had passed me long ago, as well as Repeat Customer and one of the “Chicas” who had given me a carrot along the way.  One of the Windy Cities who had been having trouble with his foot had a good day and was moving well.  His wife was far behind but also finally passed me, as well as eventually all the others.

When I walked into the into the bar, I saw the French four.  They applauded, and I blushed.

The rains came down heavily now.  The streets ran like rivers.  I thought to myself how grateful I was that I did not have to try and negotiate some of those downhills in the rain.  We finally arrived back at our hotel where we once again had a wonderful dinner and lively conversation.