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Day 2: Roncesvalles to Zubiri

Again, no pictures yet. But here´s today:

Despite sleeping in a humongous albergue (seriously – 72 people on 1 floor, and 3 floors altogether), I slept in this morning. i was sure that I would be awakened early by other people getting up, but my ear plugs and eye mask seriously did the trick.

I was on my way probably around 6:45. The first walk was quite a nice way through wooded areas and two small towns.  We walked literally through the middle of a farm. I was quite interested to see the farm equipment and animals! Gates block animals from wandering off, and there are signs for pilgrims to close these behind them.

Despite the fact that my guidebook made it look like things would be more or less flat until a medium climb (can´t call it big after yesterday!), there are of course lots of hills. Up, down, up, down.  I was complaining mentally about this, but had a change of attitude later. My asthma does not love the incline, but taking tiny steps at a medium to slow pace works so much better than trying to speed up only to have to stop every ten steps.  At my slow pace, I can more or less keep climbing the whole time. We were in the valley for the beginning of the day, but crested another mountain around 10. Then down, down, down quite a ways. My poor arthritic knee does not love the descent!

People walk at many different paces, and I tend to be a little slower. I know my hips will appreciate that more than speed, and I don´t need to risk any blisters (which are a bigger risk on the hills and very uneven terrain). It´s hard not to get up in a competetive spirit when people are passing you all the time, but I figure there´ll always be some place to stay.

Around noon, we were heading down the side of a mountain, and I could see pilgrims making their way up the next mountain across the valley. Not an encouraging sight! But I ended up with a very friendly walking companion, and that made the time and distance pass much more quickly. It was also incredible to be able to turn around at multiple times through the day, look back at the mountains behind, and think I just hiked through all of those! Over all of those! Quite the sense of accomplishment.

Finally, at about 1, we started our final descent for the day. It was incredibly steep, and on loose rocks. Quite the challenge! Again, so glad for my trekking poles! We made our way to an albergue in Zubiri, crossing an ancient Roman bridge. Legend has it that if you made an animal cross the bridge three times, it would be cured of rabies. (Wonder how many people were bitten by rabid animals, trying to “cure” them!) Our albergue is a former school. I sat in the shade for a while, and then came to find internet to post.  While I was waiting for the one computer to be free, I met a lovely couple from Ohio who had just cooked some food.  They offered me some of it, and we had a great time together. It´s so nice to meet people and talk, even it you´re quite certain you´ll never meet again.

Well, I´m off now to explore Zubiri. Some good stretching is in store tonight, too. Walking uphill and downhill really uses different muscles than walking through flat Toronto.  Still glad I did those training walks, though – I have no blisters like many of my fellow pilgrims!

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Day 1: St. Jean Pied de Port to Roncesvalles

How to even begin to describe what life is like here?

Yesterday I woke up before 6, had breakfast, and was out the door before 6:30. If you know the Camino at all, you know that there are two options for walking on your first day.  One is all the way up and over the peak of a mountain; the other follows a valley before being up and over a mountain.  The first is more climbing, and more popular. I had been praying that God would help me decide what route to take, but when I woke up I was still unsure.  Then at breakfast my hospitalera (the woman who runs the hostal) was talking about how it would be rainy, so you wouldn´t see lovely sights, and really, really windy.  She said people often break their legs falling when it´s that windy. She had once seen a girl fall over and remain unable to get up because of the wind and her backpack.  She had seen a man bracing himself against the wind and running a few metres every five seconds or so, while everyone else turned back.

Since I do not have a death wish, taking the Route Valcarlos was an easy decision. And, hey – if it was good enough for Charlemagne, it´s good enough for me!

Starting out, there was lots of happiness.  The route followed a river, and was off the main road.  All around me were lovely Basque houses and birds singing. Euphoria!

Eventually it started raining. It didn´t stop for most of the day.  Then there were also hills involved. What killed me was that every time the road went down, it felt like a waste of altitude gained – I knew I was just going to be going back up again later.

I found a walking partner in a young man from Korea. This was really a gift from God. Even though we didn´t do much talking, it was great just to have a companion and not be alone.

We crossed over into Spain, and I actually didn´t even know that we had until we crossed back into France. Then along the river for a bit until back into Spain for good.  It´s crazy that you can just walk across a border and not even know it. And people there are probably living in one country and buying their groceries or gas in another on a regular basis.  If you´ve ever crossed the border Canada/USA – it´s just so the opposite of that experience.

Then came the mountain(s).  Up, up, and up.  Sometimes we were walking along a path literally carved out of the mountainside, with a rushing river beside.  I almost fell over the edge once. Walking poles were great for balance and to help drag myself up.

Finally, finally, finally, we crested the peak. And then a swift downhill to the albergue.  Where I showered, and then pretty much sat exhaustedly.  Met some nice people, though!

I am paying for internet on a computer in my albergue right now, so no pictures yet.  People here know how to get money – pilgrims need a place to stay, and it´s more money if you don´t offer free wifi! I´m sure I´ll find one eventually where I can post, though.

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The Pilgrim Way

Today, beautiful words from Psalm 119:

 

verses 33-38

God, teach me lessons for living so I can stay the course.

Give me insight so I can do what you tell me—

my whole life one long, obedient response.

Guide me down the road of your commandments;

I love traveling this freeway!

Give me a bent for your words of wisdom, and not for piling up loot.

Divert my eyes from toys and trinkets, invigorate me on the pilgrim way.

Affirm your promises to me— promises made to all who fear you.

 

verses 55-56

I set your instructions to music and sing them as I walk this pilgrim way.

I meditate on your name all night, God, treasuring your revelation, O God.

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Goodbyes

Lots of goodbyes lately.

On Friday the school year ended, and I said goodbye to a fabulous group of students. (I cried! I will miss those kiddos!)

Today it was goodbyes to friends, until I’m back in August. One or two goodbyes might have been okay, but there were so many to say that it led to tears again.

(If you are a friend of mine and I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to you today, know that I will miss you very much while I am away!)

I am really blessed to be a part of such a wonderful community, and to have so many people to say goodbye to. Thank you, friends! Thank you, church! Thank you, God!

Many friends told me how excited they were for me. I needed that today, because my excitement is finally matched by nerves. Up until this point in time, I have been able to say that I am more excited to walk the Camino than nervous. As my departure comes closer and my terror has grown, my excitement has grown, too, so that I’ve always been more excited than terrified. But now, with just days to go, they’re pretty much at equal levels.

Many friends also told me they would be praying for me. THANK YOU! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Please keep praying!

When I remind myself of the purpose of my trip and of God’s faithfulness, I rest in God’s peace that passes understanding.

And here’s the verse I’m clinging to today:

And I am convinced that nothing can separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow – not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. (Romans 8:38 NLT)

 

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In Which I Practice Some More

As you know, I’m really not an outdoorsy, let’s-go-hiking-or-camping kind of person.And when I decided to walk the Camino this summer, it never really occurred to me that I would be backpacking across a country while walking this pilgrimage.

So amidst my preparations – getting the right gear, buying plane/train tickets to get to my starting point, getting Euros – I also began the physical preparation for hiking: walking really long distances.

Oh, boy.

The first Saturday that I took the train downtown and walked 30 kilometres back home, I had no idea what to expect. The first kilometres were easy, of course. About 15 kilometres in, I stopped for lunch, and was SO glad for the chance to sit down, as my hips were starting to feel the distance. When I started walking again, the skin of my feet literally hurt with each step. Thankfully that stopped relatively quickly, but possibly only because the pain in my joints was a good distraction. At about 20 kilometres, I was sitting down for a quick break every ten minutes or so. At about 24 kilometres, I was sitting down literally every time that there was something to sit on – bench, ledge, railing, didn’t really matter what.

When I got home, there was a brief period of euphoria. See? I can do this! But underneath it was a more concerned sense of okay, I did it once but I have to do it every day of the summer. Every. Single. Day.

My next walk was a little better – my feet didn’t hurt, and stretching my hips on a very regular basis was helpful. It was my knees that hurt. I made it about 25 kilometres before being exhausted for the last five.

The next week was better again – my feet, hips, knees were all fine, and it was only the last three or so kilometres that were really hard.

Then I started walking the 30 kilometers with everything in my backpack that I’m taking with this summer. That added a new challenge – always monitoring my back to make sure it survived. No matter how much easier it gets each time that I walk the 30 kilometres, there’s no way that I would refer to a day spent walking as “easy”.

 

When I tell people about the Camino, or especially if I tell them how I’ve been spending my Saturdays lately, I get a lot of reactions like I would never do that. That sounds terrible. This is your vacation? I would give up. I appreciate the people who are excited for me, but I do actually understand the negative reactions. Like I said, backpacking across the country wasn’t really something I had considered when I decided to walk the pilgrimage.

 

So why do we do these hard things? Why backpack across a country when there are so many easier ways to travel and sightsee? And couldn’t the spiritual aspect be gotten as easily with any other kind of spiritual retreat? Why is the Camino actually experiencing a resurgence of popularity? Is it just for the physical challenge of seeing if you can do something hard?

 

Andy Crouch spoke at a convention I went to a couple years ago, comparing spiritual disciplines to learning a musical instrument. There is a long, long, LONG period of no noticeable growth as you begin to learn to play. There’s not a lot of payoff in happiness as you put in long hours of practicing, practicing, and even more practicing. (As someone who took piano and violin lessons for years, I can TESTIFY.) But eventually, things change. You start to improve. You start to enjoy what you’re doing. If you keep practicing long enough, you get to the point where you can play almost anything that is put in front of you, or even anything you hear. You can get hours of enjoyment from the skills you have acquired, and others can as well.

Spiritual disciplines require the same slogging in our lives of spiritual development. They take a lot of hard work for years, as we seem to make no progress at all. The payoff comes years later, and then we reap the benefits of our disciplines with much less effort.

 

Pilgrimage is not officially a spiritual discipline, but I feel like there are a lot of parallels between it and the spiritual disciplines. At the least, the comparison is a good explanation for why people still go on pilgrimages nowadays. It will be long, hard work to walk long distances every day. There will be, without a doubt, days when I want to do anything other than walk again. There will be sore, tired feet, legs, back. Even as my body adjusts and gets slowly stronger, I am under no illusion that this is going to be anything other than a tiring trip. And yet, like the other spiritual disciplines, it will be worthwhile. Spending time with my Father in his world, conversations with others, time thinking and praying, seeking God. That is worth all the blisters, sore feet and legs, sunburns, terrible nights’ sleeps, and whatever else that I face along the way.

We walk by faith, not by sight, 2 Corinthians 5:7 says. The benefits we reap from a life of following God are not always benefits that we can see, but we walk on, step by step, trusting that God will continue to lead us and work in us.

Por Fe Andamos

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In Which I Drink a Lot

I am so thirsty. Walking 30 kilometres through the middle of the day will do that to you, apparently!

I have a 2 litre bag for water that fits nicely into a special pocket in my backpack. A tube with a bite valve lies right along my shoulder, and getting a drink is the easiest thing in the world while I’m walking. Spending money getting something “fancy” (fancier than my water bottle!) was important to me because I found on my earlier training walks that I just wouldn’t bother to stop when I was thirsty. It was a production – unclip the belts, set down the backpack, drink, haul the backpack on again, clip and adjust everything.

Nice as the hydration pack is, it doesn’t solve the thirst problem completely. About 20 kilometres into my walk this past Saturday, I was sucking as hard as I could on my bite valve, but not getting any water. I figured it had a kink in the hose somewhere and found a place to sit and put my pack down. Everything was working perfectly – I had just finished all the water already. Well then. (When I was telling my parents this story, my dad found it necessary to point out that I “get” 10 kilometres out of 1 litre, which is the same mileage that my parents’ van gets – 10L/100km. Thanks, Dad.)

Since I’m not a hiking aficionado, I don’t know the best way to solve this problem. If I can find a place to refill my water, it seems to me like I will need to haul a bunch of stuff out of my backpack just to get the water bag out and then back in. I’m not quite dumb enough to try to refill it while it’s in my backpack… Any experienced hikers have good advice for me?

My walk is more than 48 hours over as I write, and yet five minutes ago I went to the kitchen yet again, filled up my water bottle, and gulped down the contents. It seems I can’t catch up with rehydrating. I drink and drink and drink, until I do not want to drink any more. But I wake up each morning so parched, and need to drink often. I suppose this isn’t really a big problem. There are lots of worse things in the world than drinking a lot of water.

 

As I continually go to refill my water bottle, I keep thinking of Jesus’ words from John 4:13-14 (MSG): Everyone who drinks this water again will get thirsty again and again. Anyone who drinks the water I give will never thirst – not ever. The water I give will be an artesian spring within, gushing fountains of endless life.

Mmmm. Sounds amazing!

 

And I’m off to the kitchen again to refill my water bottle.

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In Which I Make a Difficult Decision Regarding Hair Gel

Somehow, when deciding to walk the Camino this summer, it never occurred to me that I would be backpacking.

Please understand: I am pretty much the least outdoorsy person I know. My small group drags me camping most years, and I do begrudgingly enjoy it, but it is never something I would choose to do for fun if I were the one choosing the activity. Hiking and backpacking are something I NEVER would have imagined doing. But the dream of the Camino drew me in, and I had bought my airline tickets already before I realized that I would essentially be backpacking across a country.

What followed was a huge learning curve about all things outdoorsy.

Now I am all outfitted with my outdoorsy belongings: hiking boots, backpack, water pack, hat, trekking poles, good quality clothing… it’s a new experience.

I began training – walking to work and back each day was not nearly enough mileage, so long walks on weekends have become a staple. 25 kilometres on a Saturday is now a new normal. On a Saturday when I only walked 12 kilometres, I marvelled at how short that seemed, AND at how I have become a person who says things like, “I ONLY walked TWELVE kilometres yesterday.”

Amidst the training, I quickly learned how weight in a backpack is relative: the longer you walk, the heavier it gets. Walking with a backpack weighted at 25 pounds is a good way to realize that I only need to take the absolute necessities and nothing else. For the most part, this is easy to discern – one change of clothes, my hat, sunscreen, the barest of toiletries (seriously: comb, nail clippers, toothbrush and toothpaste, shampoo, hair elastics), flip-flops, and headlamp.

 

And then there is this tiny bottle of gel that keeps making it into the box where I’ve been gathering my supplies.

Hair gel.

My hair is a little uncontrollable if I don’t do something with it. This is what I tell myself when I put the bottle in.

Then I remind myself that this trip is definitely not about what I look like, and every bit of extra weight is dumb. I take it back out.

A few hours or days later, I think about how nice it would be to feel like I look presentable after a long day. The bottle goes back in.

Again, after a while I tell myself how ridiculous it is. I will wear my hair clipped up or in a ponytail. It’s a pilgrimage, for goodness’ sake.

 

This is such a dumb story, right? A bottle of hair gel – it’s almost inconsequential. And yet even though I know how inconsequential it is to have with me, I can’t help but keep trying to pack it, against all logic. This has made me wonder how much of my life and my decisions are controlled by, essentially, vanity. In the Case of the Hair Gel, vanity over my appearance. But in life in general, vanity of all sorts – how I appear to others. I want to appear like I’ve got all aspects of my life together, to look perfect to any outsider.

I can’t help but remember God’s words to Samuel: “For people look at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7)

 

May I continue to learn to be unconcerned about how I appear to others, and learn to be right before God!

 

 

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down… (Hebrews 12:1)

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In Which I Learn How to Walk

I need to learn to walk.

 

That sounds ridiculous, right? I’ve been able to walk for decades.  How hard can it be, after all?! Just keep putting one foot in front of the other!

The problem is, though, I have all these bad habits I’ve picked up over those decades of walking.  I have suffered through a knee injury and the resulting arthritis, and back issues.

As a result, I hyperextend my knees, hunch my upper back, and carry tension in my pelvis.  None of these things are too noticeable on a short walk.  I can make it through regular life without my knees or back giving me too much trouble on a regular basis.

That all changes on a long walk.  I’ve been walking 25-30 kilometre walks as part of my training the last few Saturdays.  Those long walks have been the diagnostic of what’s wrong in my gait. On a long walk, there’s no way not to notice the knee pain from constant hyperextension.  And that very naturally leads to a desire to solve the problem! (This, by the way, has led to a fascinating foray into the field of biomechanics to investigate and try to solve what’s wrong!)

 

I’ve been thinking of the parallels to spiritual life.  Over time, habits and ideas creep in, and I don’t notice them in my daily life.  They’re doing damage, but I just don’t see how in the short term.  I need a spiritual diagnostic to show me what needs correction.  A pilgrimage seems like a great way to do this – a lot of thinking time while walking, to reflect on my life, my decisions, my habits, my thinking.

 

Psalm 139 ends with these words (from The Message):

Investigate my life, O God,

find out everything about me;

Cross-examine and test me,

get a clear picture of what I’m about;

See for yourself whether I’ve done anything wrong –

then guide me on the road to eternal life.

 

 

What are some of the ways that you do spiritual diagnostics in your life?

 

 

One last by the way: Teen Missions friends, I think that serving on a TMI team is another fantastic spiritual diagnostic!

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In Which a Destination Girl Learns to Enjoy the Journey

Walking is life at a different pace.

 

So much of my life has been spent rushing from one task to the next, one giant to-do list that is never completed.  Walking has changed that.

At the end of last summer, I bid adieu to my car, and began walking as my main mode of transportation.  Not having a car means no more excuses. I actually have to walk if I’m going to get to work. I have to walk to church.  I walk to most things I do – at least in part.  Even if I hop on a bus to run errands, at least some of the trip is done by walking.

When I walk, I am not in a rush.  It doesn’t matter how quickly I want to get somewhere, it still takes time to walk.

Walking has changed my mindset. I have begun noticing things that I never noticed in the three years of commuting from my present home to work. I can actually see things I’m passing.  Birds chirp around me.  Snow falls on me.  I get wet when it rains. People pass and greet me. I participate in the moments unfolding around me, instead of being wrapped up in road rage or contemplating the next tasks on my never-ending to-do list.

I discover a Canada goose up on top of an industrial building I pass. I actually notice it because its honk sounds like a dog barking, but I can’t see a dog around. The goose is clearly proud of itself up there, and I laugh out loud.  It is like a private joke God has made, and placed at just the time and place for me to notice and delight in his sense of humour.  Two days later, I see another goose up on top of a statue along the lakeshore. Again, I delight and laugh.

There is a place in the sidewalk where bird footprints were imprinted when the concrete was still wet.  I wonder about this – how was that bird heavy enough to leave its imprint? What happened? Why was the bird so curious about a new sidewalk? Did it survive the experience?

I meet many people as I walk.  Sometimes this is no more than eye contact and a smile as we pass.  Sometimes it is several friendly words.  Sometimes it becomes a conversation. Again – it has changed me from observer to participant in the world unfolding around me.

 

I had been pondering these thoughts for a while, and they were particularly coalescing yesterday over my long (25 kilometre) walk.  Then I ran into my newest friend Agnes on my walk home from church. Agnes lives a street over from me. I first met her about ten days ago while walking home from work.  She was bringing her groceries inside from her trunk, and I offered her a helping hand. She is a friend I would not have made while driving from place to place.

Agnes is turning 84 this summer.  As we chatted today, she said to me, “I have worked too hard all my life, and now I am too tired to enjoy what’s left of living.”

Her words stopped me short.  I am in danger of this very thing.  I am task oriented, celebrating my accomplishments and looking for meaning in success. I desperately need the reminder that life is more about the journey than the destination.

 

Maybe that is another reason why I am looking forward to this summer so much.  I need to relearn how to walk – to enjoy the journey instead of already looking to the next task on my to-do list. I will keep my mind on the destination, but I will participate in and enjoy the journey.

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In Which a Girl Timidly Plans a Pilgrimage

I feel like there should be some really wise words that I have to share on this first blog post.  I don’t really have any that feel particularly eloquent.  And all my “wise” thoughts that I have while walking seem to disappear when I try to put them into words on paper.

So let me jump right in to the point!

 

This summer I will walk the Camino de Santiago, the Way of St. James.  It is an ancient pilgrimage route across Spain.  Each day will consist of lots of walking.  Besides that, I’m hoping for lots of good conversation time with God, and good conversations with the other pilgrims I meet. And that’s pretty much it.

 

There are generally two reactions that I get from people when I tell them what I’m doing.  One is approval – anything ranging from jealousy from people who want to go themselves, to excitement on my behalf from others.

 

The second one is more like shock.  “You’re doing what?!” isn’t uncommon to hear.  I realize that this vacation is a little unorthodox.  In fact, I would suppose that my own emotions run to excitement 90% of the time, while the other 10% is what on earth am I thinking?  I’m not really an outdoorsy sort of person.  Camping is my idea of one of the worst kinds of vacations a person can take.  And now I find myself researching backpacks and hiking boots from MEC, and taking really long walks to train.

 

Not to mention, I’m going alone.  I won’t have anyone else to drag me along, pull me out of bed, talk me into walking just five more kilometres.  I don’t have guaranteed companionship and conversation.  A small part of me is tempted to be plagued with self-doubt. What if I don’t make any friends? What if I get injured? What if I hate it… and keep hating it all summer long? What if I feel like my relationship with God is stagnating, instead of being deep and rich and meaningful? What if….

 

Today in The Banner I read, “Above all, Jesus is called ‘The Way’, which denotes walking with, a relationship. Experiencing changed circumstances is an invitation to get to know him better. He says, ‘I stand at the door and knock.’ The image is of our opening the door of our hearts to him so that he can spend time with us, as one does with a friend over a meal.”

 

That, above all, is what I hope for this summer.  To walk with Jesus, getting to know him better.

 

2 Corinthians 5:7 – For we walk by faith, not by sight.