Whispers from the Camino—Day Three

Roncesvalles to Zubrini 21.7 km

Leaving Roncesvalles just after sunrise

I had been waking up in recent months at about 4:30 a.m. and then falling back to sleep while in the Portland area. True to form, I woke up at 4: 30 a.m., but with the anticipation of the day ahead as well as the snoring and occasional farts coming from my 19 other bunkmates, I couldn’t get back to sleep. I had also been awakened by an excruciating leg cramp that took a full fifteen minutes to work out. I have long suffered from leg cramps and it was no surprise that the exertion of the prior day had left me dehydrated and vulnerable.

But, despite the lack of sleep I couldn’t wait for a few other pilgrims to start stirring signaling that I could get up, pull my gear together, and get some breakfast before re-engaging with the trail. People started to stir about 6: 00 a.m. and I went through the ritual of packing my sleeping gear, stripping the disposable bed sheets and arranging my backpack for easy access to the most used items like food, a change of socks and rain gear.

Just 790 kilometers to go!

After both ascending and descending the Pyrenees from the day before this day felt easy. It was almost completely flat and allowed for a leisurely and non-strenuous long walk. The only physical difficulty was a short section toward the end of the day where the path followed a rock formation of perpendicular ribs of one to two inches with gaps between. There was a risk of falling or misjudging a step and potentially spraining an ankle. As far as I knew no one had a mishap, but the extra caution required at the end of the day left many of us saying, “Enough already.”

But with the luxury of a less demanding day I found myself pondering why I was doing this 500-mile pilgrimage. I had met Laura, an Italian woman who was also pondering the same question. She shared that she felt that she was doing the Camino to discover her inner self.

A common site along the Camino

I understood that. In 2011 I rode my bike through the American West over a 10-week period and 4,000 miles. The impetus for that ride was much the same as hers—I needed to discover something deeper about myself in order to figure out how best to serve the world. This time it felt different, however. In fact, the Camino wasn’t some departure from my life as much as just another stage of a pilgrimage that started when I left a church executive position six months earlier.

I think many people take a break from their life for the few weeks to walk the Camino. For me, it wasn’t so much a break as it was another stage of an unfolding and unknown journey. I was anticipating getting back to the States by the end of October, but I had nothing to come back to in terms of work or responsibility.

Tricky terrain toward day's end

Why was I walking the Camino? To see what the Camino presented to me as to my next step beyond October. Would I strike up a conversation and find myself invited to become a writer in residence and pilgrimage leader at some retreat center? Would I meet some intriguing woman who also had a love of adventure and deeper discovery who would sweep me off my feet? Would I get a clear message from the heavens that it was time to retire, live simply and offer my presence to the community? Would some investor catch wind of my vision to repurpose churches as hostels on historic routes in America?

I didn’t know what answers I would find, but I did know that I was trusting that “the Camino would provide.” That line is actually one of the favorite mantras of pilgrims. Most of the time it means trusting that there will be accommodations and food at day’s end. But for me, it was more like, “I don’t know where I will land in seven weeks’ time, but I do trust that the Camino will provide.” At the end I will know where to go next.

The daily wash

I arrived in Zubrini, found an open albergue first thing, and picked my bunk.

Next was a quick trip to the creek behind the albergue. A handful of us took off our socks and shoes, waded out into the cool water and soaked ourselves in the flowing water. Our feet were grateful. It felt like my whole body let out a big sigh.

My future was unknown, but it didn’t matter. Everything was just as it should be.