Thursday, June 19, 2014

The Old Man and The Mountain.


It was an uneventful evening in St. Jean, though unsurprisingly I found myself frustrated by a number of things that I can only describe with one word: French.  The service as the restaurant was terrible; I waited a half-hour just to get the bill.  The grocery store closed at 8. There would be no hotel staff to let us out at 7 in the morning (even the desk person admitted they do not like to work in France) so we would have to let ourselves out and leave the keys in a certain place, etc.  I love St. Jean, but everything seems to be unnecessarily difficult. I find myself wondering if this is some kind of cosmic conspiracy that only occurs when I cross the French Border.

As usual for the night before a big trip, I did not sleep well last night.  The idea was to get to bed by 10, since I needed to be up at 6 for us to be walking by 7.  Well, that didn’t happen.  I tried to go to bed at 11, but it’s barely dark at that time.  Plus my room had a nightlight over the bed that would not turn off, so I moved to the other side of the bed.  So it was some time past midnight when I finally nodded off.

 I was worried that I would have trouble getting the group together for an on-time departure, but everyone was pretty much on time, so I gave a few instructions about the walking and Liz, my RA read some scripture, while Drake my Assistant Director prayed for the group and our Camino.  We were on the Camino on time, and we could not have asked for better hiking weather.  The temperature peaked at about 65 with lots of sun, and just enough of a breeze to keep from getting too hot.  I was particularly grateful for this, as the last time I walked this stage of the Camino, I was 40 degrees, raining, and I was nearly hypothermic. 

As you might imagine, after the first hour of walking, the group was pretty well strung out over God’s half-acre.  Drake, Ben, and I ended up in the front, with the other adult, Tom, in the rearguard with a couple of the slower students.  Nonetheless, we made good time – St. Jean to Roncesvalles, 16 miles, in 6 hours flat, with a climb from 200 feet to 5,000 and a descent to 3,000 included.  We secured our beds in the albergue, and went to the bar to have a bit of lunch.  The rest of the group straggled in over the course of a couple of hours.

As far as I know, there were no mishaps, save for when I took a spill coming down the descent for the Col de Leopoeder to Roncesvalles, which is a 25% grade.  I stepped on a wet spot and slipped, skinning my knee and tumbling over.  Other than the skinned knee there seem to be no adverse effects, so I am thankful.  I also noticed I had a lot more trouble on the uphills than I thought I would.  Drake thinks this is the result of a week of riotous living in Madrid, getting over a sinus infection, and having a pack that seems heavier than expected.  I surmise that being only two weeks away from being 37 may play a factor, and I am rapidly coming to realize that while it’s a long time until I’m an old man, I’m no longer young, and that’s a bit of a weird thought.

Tonight we will go to Pilgrim Mass, and have a Pilgrim dinner, and then, to bed.  Tomorrow is 13.5 miles though still with lots of terrain.  I’m grateful we made it through the first day, though I don’t expect to sleep well tonight either.

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