The (Temporary) End of the Dream

Well, its over for a while. After walking nearly a hundred miles, crossing the Pyrenees Mts. , celebrating my birthday at a dinner in Roncesvalles made special by a multinational rendition of "Happy Birthday" from the crowd of pilgrims there and revelling in the sheer joy of being together with Joan walking in such a wonderful place, we've had to call it quits.  There is something wrong with me that just saps my energy and walking in Spain is just not fun any more- to say nothing of not safe.
So we are calling a halt in Logrono and taking a bus tomorrow to Madrid, spending the night at an airport hotel and flying back to Boston on Wednesday. I feel horrible about raining on a parade that meant so much to us and for which we gad planned so long. But we will be back to finish the journey and we have learned so much abiut what to do differently next time when we pick up in Logrono again. We'll talk more about that later. We want to say "Muchas Gracias" to everyone who has supported us along The Way and given us their' love and energy. Your emails and Facebook posts have meant a lot,  especially in these past few days of doubt and uncertainty.
Stay tuned for the next chapter.  Team Turtle will be back!!

A Little Bit At A Time

Sunday,  September 22

We took the morning bus from Estrella to Logrono today, finally leaving Navarre and entering the wine producing province of La Roija to the west. We shared a seat with two Irish veterans of the Camino, Seamus & his wife, Leah and had a lovely chat for the hour ride. We arrived in Logrono to find ourselves in yet another festival,  this one a week long bash celebrating all this wine and the local harvest. The old city is jammed with celebrants and the noise level is high at our pension. We also are cursed by having a Jamaican street band performing right next door in the street. Go figure?

A bit of a downer is my realization that I'm not 45 anymore and have to tailor my expectations accordingly.  My energy level has been decreasing since Pamplona and the last stretch into Estella really whipped me more than I thought. My right ankle is almost always in some degree of pain, my left hip and knee are tender and my energy today was at about 60 percent of normal.  We worried about maybe high blood pressure or a low level infection but this being Sunday all the local pharmacias are closed.  Poor Joan started carrying the load of possible outcomes (none good) if I got worse and our inability to communicate medical issues in Spanish became a looming fear. We didn't get into our room until 3:30 and once there I fell into bed. Something feels wrong and the thought of heading out from this big city scares both of us.

We tried to get some advice from our travel insurance carriers back in the States (HTH) but that was a waste of time. So we decided to wait until things open tomorrow and check my BP and temp at a pharmacist. Assuming that they are normal , we will cut back our daily stages to 5 miles or so for a while and if we have to jump ahead on the bus in order to get to Sarria by October 20 so we can get to Santiago by Nov 1st , so be it. And in the worst case, if it turns out that this us not the time for me to be continuing,  then we'll stop and fly home early.  Stay tuned!

A Day of R & R in Estella

Today is Saturday the 21st of September and we are taking a much needed break in the old pilgrimage town of Estella. Yesterday the stage from Zirauki to here was a rough one for me, with lots of sharp ups and downs and long stretchs of old Roman roads. While historic - we've never walked before on 2,000 year old roads- they were a bitch to walk on, being filled with broken cobbled sections, potholes and tippy stones for miles on end. The scenery around us was all dramatic hills and long valleys stretching away in rural elegance.

However Sam developed a series of pains in his left leg- tight hamstring follwed by a sore lateral quad and then an ache in the hip joint. In the lonely mind of this long distance walker, I immediately went to thoughts of hip replacement and aborted Camino but Joan brought reality back by recounting all the similar woes suffered by our predecessors like Dolly and Dick, who are a couple of weeks ahead of us but post or email us.

The weather is forecast to be in the 80's for the next week so we have decided to skip a couple of really nasty hilly stages and jump ahead to Logrono, about 50 miles. We catch a bus tomorrow mornjng and will plan short stages according to the weather and terrain.  We will be moving into  the meseta soon (think Kansas for flatness) and will really have to watch our hydration. 

Here are some phoros of the.walk into Estella and the town itself.

Perra Perigrino & us

This is our 7th day of walking since we left St. Jean Pied a Port and headed over the Pyranees into Spain. We are well into Navarre;  tonight we found ourselves in the midst of the annual festival held in the ancient hill town of Zirauki, about 10 km past Puenta La Reina. As we inched up the steep narrow streets leading to the central plaza across from the church, people dressed in various types of white and red dress appeared.  We were walking with Jorge from Hungary (a veterinarian cum photographer we had befriended outside of town) and one of the locals told us of the event. So as I write this the square is filled with long tables, families eating paella, bread and lots of local wine. Lots of wine! A surprisingly good small band and various singers are rocking the crowd with " Volare" while young kids sneak away to set off firecrackers.

Our New Zealand pals - Alistair and Sally- are here as they were last night in Obanos. Otherwise the group at the albergue is a mixture of countries; walkers and cyclists about 2/3 to 1/3.

Ceili,  our perigrinating perra ("pilgrim dog") that travels in my pack, has contributed to our ability to strike up conversation.  Young kids in particular always smile and comment when they spot her peeking out of my backpack.

For me the most surprising discovery so far along in these first 80 miles has been the community of people we encounter along the way. Fellow perigrinos are invariably open and sharing of themselves. While the rest of the world may glare angrily at each other across various walls of religion,  culture and history,  here on the Camino I have encountered zero emnity to others. Friendships are struck up on the road or in a bar sharing a morning cafe con leche. It is a refreshing and calming change from the "real world" outside that rushes ahead at 70 mph and tries to deaden the intensity of life with electronic wizardry.

Here are some pictures of our travels today.

Hemingway, Los Toros & us

Tuesday 19/9/2013
We left Trinidad de Arres around 8:30 and within a half hour stopped for some incredible chocolate hot drink,  cafe con leche and tiny pastries at Cafe Jorge.  Then continued on Calle Mayor (Main Street) for about 4 miles into the heart of Pamplona,  carefully looking for the blue and gold scallop shell signage showing the way. We approached the heart of th ed old city, protected by the high stone walls and entered by the French Gate. The portcullis raising system was a wonderfully unique nautilus design wheel winch (see picture below). Inside the old city life teemed as the people walked to work and small shops opened for business.  We were planning a lay day after the  5 mile walk into town and found a very small hotel on Calle San Nicholas, which it turns out is the taps center of town.

So our lunch consisted of following the locals into a tapas bar and ordering what they were having. Joan had a goat cheese and fruit toast thing and a small cervesa which did something with jabon and shitake mushrooms and aqua con gaz. Then back to hotel and a nap. I later snuck out while Joan was sleeping and wandered over to the Iruna Restaurant which was one of Hemingway's favorites. Reading the International Herald Trib with a cafe con leche in an outdoor cafe and people watching is a great way to spend an hour!

Around 7 we wandered back to the imposing cathedral Santa Maria de Real and stayed while a Mass was celebrated.  This 15th century Gothic masterpiece dominates the old city and is evidence of the power of the church in Spanish life I mm centuries past.  We loved Pamplona and would return in a heartbeat.  However we are to be up and out by 7 for a 12 miles walk up to 800 meters over Alto de Perdon and then to Urtega. The iconic sculptures on top capture pilgrims past and present.  We joined the parade and the picture shows.  The 3 mile walk down was steep, rocky and quite dangerous but we made Urtega by 3.

On to Pamplona!

Monday, Sept 16. We three (Joan, me & Margo, our Camino friend from Portland,  OR) leave Zubiri at 8 am for Pamplona. It was described as an easy walk but started out UP and then got rocky, steep shale and hot. We finally got to our destination around 4 and found ourselves back in the 12th century.  Trinidad de Arre - the albergue where we stayed- has been a refuge for pelugrinos for a thousand years. We were all bunked in a big room- all sexes togethet
and all snores shared. Lights out at 10 and kicked out at 8 the next morning.  Joan and I went to a simple and quite moving Pilgrim's Prayer gathering in the old chapel after diner. Coming home from the menu del peligrinos meal we found a burro waiting at the front gate. Turns out the pilgrim and his burro had left from Paris months before, made it to Compostela and were now returning home. We felt like we were time-warped back to the Middle Ages!
At dinner we met a young couple in their 20's who had met that day while doing a 40 km walk. He was from Tel Aviv and was very impressed to hear about Justin doing his Birthright trip to Israel and Charlie's walking tour to Masada.

On the Calle Mayor out to dinner we saw a group of young botd playing toro, which involves a charging a wheel mounted fake bull's head (with horns ) at the other kids. Looked scary to us but they were having fun.
Time for bed now. Up the mountain tomorrow early.

Pictures on the road over the Pyrenees

Some pictures of our amazing day yesterday. Sam crossing into Spain with streamers, Sam and a basque horse, in the clouds.
Today was a rest day we only walked 6 miles to Espinal. We quit early to nap and rest our weary bones.  Will be up early to start again tomorrow. Spirts high, feet fine.  Still amazed at what we did yesterday.
Please friend me on facebook (Joan) for more info as we follow the yellow arrows.  We are getting much better at spotting them.
Love to all we carry you in our hearts.

Mountain sheep in the fog

On our first day of real walking we left Orisson at around 9 am for the long uphill slog over the Pyrenees and down to Roncesvalles. About two hours in and by now enveloped in thick clouds, walking completely alone , we noticed a large herd of sheep and rams grazing on the steep slope above us. Suddenly a white van pulled up and stopped near us, the door opened and a black & white dog jumped out and bounded up the hill. A Basque shepherd got out carrying a staff, which he proceded to tap sharply on the ground, instructing his dog where to drive the herd. Off they went down the mountain,  the black & white dog scurrying hither and yon. The shepherd jumped back in the car, drove off after the vanishing herd and the silence of the white cloud fog enveloped us again. It was a magical moment and one of our "sparkles" for the day.
After finally crossing the border into Spain the trail veered off uphill again and became a rough rocky path. It was difficult hiking and we were tired after carrying our 16 pound packs for some 4 hours. On and on we went, taking each section as it came, one step at a time. Finally we topped the 1450 meter Col de Lepoedard and still in fog, headed down a really rough trail. Oh boy, if this was what to expect, we were in trouble!  But we shortly came upon a small county road and followed it down switchback after curve to the bottom some 500 meters where we were a mile from the ancient and fabled monestary of Roncesvalles.
But that mile was almost a mile too far for me and it was slow and hard; we hobbled to the gate and entered to place where we would spend our first night on the road. After presenting our pilgrims credentials for stamping with the sellos of the monestary,  paying 10 Euros and storing our boots in a big room with those of several hundred other pilgrims, we carried our packs up to our third floor dormitory cubicle, showered and collapsed for a short nap. After a menu de perigrinos diner we were in bed for good at 9.
BTW,  the best way to follow us daily is on Joan's Facebook page. Friend her there and let us know what you think.

First Days on "The Way"

We arrived in St. Jean Pied  Port safely about 8 PM after a grueling day on SCNF trains from Paris. We arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport at 7:15 AM only to land in the midst of a railway strike, wherein the waas one (1!) ticket agent to handle 500 or so frantic passengers. We made our 10:16 train to Bayonne with minutes to spare. Changing trains at Bordeaux was an adventure but we quickly bonded with a group of others perigrinos headjng for St.Jean and "group translated" our way through information and ticketing to a standing room only 2 hour multistop rise to Bayonne where we knew we were arriving too late by minutes for the last bus to St. Jean. But miracles do happen and we msde the coach and relaxed for the ride through ever more hilly landscape as we entered the Pyrenees.  We walked a half mile upon arrival to our hotel Itzalpea in the center of town. Blessed safe and dead tired after a 15 hour slog!

We had breakfast at the hotel and walking around town, somehow gathered our train friends as we walked. They were from America, Canada,  Holland (lots of Dutch here), Australia and elsewhere. They say you meet your Camino family on the first day, meaning the people you will end up meeting again and again in the days and miles ahead. Today is the 12th  anniversary of 9/11 and we all were a little sombered with our memories of that tragic day. We spent the night at Esprite d' Chemin,  a wonderful refugio inside the ancient walls of the Citadel,  a place run by a great Dutch couple thst gave us our first experience of life on the road. Along with 16 others,  we shared stories of our reasons for walking the Camino and learned tips and ideas for the days ahead

So now we are back at the Itzalpea for one more night, to catch up on sleep before we start. Our plan is to take a taxi tomorrow morning to Orisson since there is no room for us at the refugio there and start our walk 18 km to Roncevalles,  up 800 meters to the top of the mountains at 1450 meters. There we will spend the night at the big monestary. So far we are feeling fine and excited about whe where we are and what we're doing. It feels right. My quest for GIRLS has been fruitful so far. Yesterday's Sparkle was a beautiful red flower growing alongside the path up to a little meditation hut behind the L'esprite Chemin , place where Joan and I spent a quite half hour in the afternoon sun next to a little koi pond, talking about how fortunate we are to be here together. 

And Away We Go!…………Whoops - wait a bit, now

Ever since we became emotionally committed a year ago to our walking pilgrimage to Santiago in Spain, we were determined that we would do it “in true pilgrim fashion.” That meant that Joan & I would try to eschew, as much as is possible in today’s modern, high-tech world, all the various conveniences & accelerators with which we customarily burden ourselves, in the delusion of “saving time” or “making life easier.” Stuff like cell-phones, I-pads & pods, fancy digital watches, GPS systems and other gear. And key to our “true pilgrim fashion” intent was that we would start our journey to Santiago by walking out of our front door, just like they used to start pilgrimages in the Middle Ages.

So at 8 AM on Monday, September 1^st we did just that. We slung on our backpacks, stepped outside into a muggy morning, closed & locked the door and headed down our long driveway through the fields towards Downing Road.  Our intention was to walk 11 miles to the Amtrak train station in Wells – a walk we had done only five days before with joy and ease. Our wonderful neighbors, Bruce & Beth Preston, Lynne & Rob Tillotson and Bruce Read, were all waiting to greet us at the end of the drive, loaded with hugs, handshakes, some tears and lots of best wishes. After the first thousand feet of walking our pilgrimage, we were feeling good! I laughingly said to them, “only 499.8 miles to go!”

But I didn’t listen to the universe and I didn’t stay tuned into the warning signals my body was giving me as we walked along. The day was turning dangerously hot and humid, reaching 90 degrees and 98% humidity by mid-morning. Compounding this was the fact that my fully - loaded pack weighed in at 17 pounds, about 15% more than I was used to carrying. So around 3 miles out, I started to feel strangely tired and weak-legged. That wasn’t normal at all, for I had walked over 300 miles during the past six months in preparation for our Camino. My right ankle hurt more than usual but I put that off to the extra weight. I was sweating copiously but ignored it.

But that was not the bad error in judgment I made; no, I really screwed up in not drinking enough water on a very hot & humid day, a day that at my age I probably shouldn’t have been walking 11 miles at all. I was carrying a 16 oz bottle of Poland Spring water and only took small sips, ‘cause I didn’t want to use it all before we got to our planned lunch break at 7 miles. I was stubbornly determined to start out “in true pilgrim style” when any damned fool would have said, “Too hot! - let’s be smart & take a taxi to Wells.” And worst of all, I didn’t listen to the dehydration signals my body was giving me- being “weak” and sweating like a pig.

So, after stopping three times for a rest (all in a half mile) at around the 6 mile point, we pulled over at the Wells Branch Grange building. I took off my backpack, sat down on a well cistern and passed out cold. Fainted dead away; almost no pulse, dangerously low blood pressure, cold sweat pouring off my body – the whole enchilada of heat dehydration. Poor Joan was scared to death but her nurse background quickly kicked in and she took control, called 911 and within a few minutes the Wells police, fire department and EMT crews were there, hustled me into an EMT stretcher and off we went to the Emergency Room at the Southern Maine Medical Center in Biddeford. I wasn’t going to be going to Spain that day and there was a real danger that my severe dehydration would kill our plans of our pilgrimage dream.

The ER crew at SMMC was great and after fluid drips, blood tests, x-rays and much more, my wonderful ER doctor, Dr. Jason Aines, finally discharged me with a strong but loving admonition to listen more closely to my body in the future, That and drink lots of water before, during and after a long walk. So we have postponed our Camino departure for a week to give my body (and Joan’s battered spirit) a chance to rebuild strength. I’ve learned a lot about the dangers of dehydration, especially when one gets older. Back in the ‘80’s when I was doing a lot of competitive bicycle racing and 100 mile rides, I never worried much about dehydration. Now I do. This scared me a lot!

Poor Joan! She’s really been beating herself up since we got home for not reading my signs better, with her nursing background and own experience with heat. On our training walks in the White Mts. and the trails in Maine, it’s been Joan who has suffered from heat & humidity, not me. She knows the signs in herself. And truth be told, she has been insistently telling me to drink more water and I’ve stubbornly resisted, listening to my own false scripts about not drinking too much. No more!  Call me “Aquaman”!

Here’s a snapshot of what my new “dehydration danger” protocol will be before I start a long walk:

• ·       Watch the weather– excessively hot or humid – don’t do it.
•          Pre-hydrate – drink 16 oz of water with breakfast  
•         Listen to my body –weak legs means weak blood circulation (stage 1 dehydration).
•     Sweating more than usual is a really bad signal, too.
• ·      Drink 16 oz of water every mile. No excuses!
• ·      Add electrolytes – Gatorade, salt tablets, Zero Water are OK.
• ·      Listen to my intuition. Share this with Joan & have an honest conversation.

 I have figured out that I can be in three states of mind in a long walk or when deciding whether to do any activity with potentially dangerous consequences:

a)    Everything is in harmony in my world. I feel great about what’s ahead, physically ready and mentally sharp. I may have a few aches & pains but no dehydration “warning” signals are flashing. All signs from my universe are still good. This is my “Code Green” situation.

b)    Something doesn’t feel quite right here. Maybe I haven’t been sleeping well or someone close to me is troubled. Am I getting dehydration or other body warning signals? Does life feels out of synch a little but I can’t put that uneasiness in focus? Do I have bad feelings or uncertainly about what I’m doing? These are my “Code Yellow” signals and scream out: “Caution!”

c)    No way, dummy!  This just feels like a bad idea all around. I’m getting my dehydration signals. Admit it, forget about what someone else might think or do and put it away for another day. This is “Code Red”.

Red and Green are easy to deal with. But you can’t stay in a Code Yellow quandary and there are only two paths out: either I weigh the risks & make a decision to go to Green or embrace the wisdom of “No” and go Red. The trick to learn is to be consciously aware of what “color” I’m in; then to act with courage on what that awareness tells me.