Day 12: Cardenuela - Burgos

Day in one word: family

I heard about the phenomenon of a camino family before I ever left Germany. It refers to those people who keep showing up at the same stops as you and with whom you start to form a bond as you walk, eat, and do life. I was excited when I felt I already had it in the form of Daniela and Andrea and a couple of peripheral people by Day three. Nothing bonds women quite like crying over each other´s stories. However, Andrea slipped behind, and Daniela pulled way ahead, and before I knew it, I was a camino orphan again, though never for long.

Over the past week, five men (yes, I was the token female and could have been all their daughters) encircled my life: Thiery (F), Don (NL), Matt (USA), Kevin (CAN), and the colorful and wonderful Jack (N. IRE). We never walked together, but each morning, they would pass me cheerfully, and each evening, one or several of them would pull up a chair for me at the table. We covered topics ranging from travel to music to feet woes to the Spanish civil war to families to soccer, the last of which I was the supplier in stats and updates using my tablet.

So it was actually kind of emotional last night to have to say good-bye knowing I´ll probably never see them again since I´m skipping the middle section. My heart felt a little nauseated at the thought of having to start over again at building a camino family, especially when farther down the road, you expect people to already have theirs. I don´t want new people; I just want to bring the old ones with me.

Funny, that is exactly what I said a couple of weeks ago in the midst of the many good-byes at BFA. The camino seems to be mirroring life more than I care for it to. This morning then, as I marched the short trek into Burgos, became another exercise in placing my trust in God. Do I believe he knew the route my camino would take before I started? Do I have faith he´ll provide the perfect people with whom I can connect, build family, and even finish in Santiago? Do I trust he can do the same for my time in the states over the next eight months?

Day 11: Villafranca Montes de Oca - Cardenuela

Day in one word: fantastico

I am choosing to use Guthrie's version of this adjective (from Bloomability, a fantastico book) because it encompasses so much more expression and vitality. That is definitely how I felt today. My feet aren't healed, but compared to the last ten days, it felt like I had finally turned a corner. They moved without all the prompting and prodding and ibuprofining of the last few mornings. I didn't even have to bribe them with the promise of pedicures (though over the course of last week, I did promise about ten, so if anyone is wondering about Christmas or birthday gifts in the coming year ...).

It truly was a good day despite beginning st 4:30 when some super early risers made such a racket and didn't let me fall back asleep. It meant I got an early start myself, out the door at 6:00. The first 12 km meandered through a tranquil pine forest. A hundred butterflies, a foot-long lizard, and a deer all flitted, scampered, and dashed across my path. The temperature was rather cool, so when the first town appeared around 9:00, it was the perfect stopping point for a coffee to warm my fingers.

The rest of the walk today went equally as well, with a small exception of a short, extremely rocky ascent. That was a minefield for blistered feet. The Cardenuela albergue has potential of being a favorite as I'm in a room with only four beds, a private bathroom, and so far have it to myself. We shall see how dinner fares. Jack (N. Ireland) and Don (Netherlands) are both here, but we seem to have lost Matt (USA). Yes, my current camino family consists of three dads. All in all, it's been an incredibly encouraging day, full of the sights and sounds of life.

Day 10: Redecilla del Camino - Villafranca Montes de Oca

Day in one word: routine

Day 9: Azofra - Redecilla del Camino

Day in one word: butterflies

I've been working up the courage to actually post today's blog. I'm not the biggest fan of butterflies, but every single day since I started, one has floated past me narrowly missing my face each time, or so it feels. Every single time, my thoughts instantly turn toward Peppermint Patty and the comic strip series in which a butterfly lands on her nose, and she perceives it to be a kiss from an angel.

Now, in case you are unfamiliar with me or my other blog, let me explain that God and I have this thing called "nose kisses." It's pretty personal, but it refers to those moments when I sense him nudging me and saying, "Look! That's just for you. I love you a lot!"

In reflecting over the last five years in Germany (one of my stated goals for this trip), I have been struck by the number of nose kisses and expressions of his love I've been partial to. He knows the way to my heart has always been through adventure: the beauty and mystery of an unknown place, the compulsion to trade my comfort zone for a memory I'll cherish forever. Even though trudging alone on the camino day after day doesn't feel all that exciting - figuring out creative ways to shower in a tiny stall with all my clothes in it is really something I could do without - the daily butterfly reminds me that this is, in fact, an adventure God called me to because he is in the business of expressing his love for me. A pretty big nose kiss, if you ask me.

And that's nothing compared to the daily reminder each church topped with its cross is. The ultimate expression of God's love is visible to me over and over again in the cross of Christ. Without his death and the forgiveness of my sins, all of life would be purposeless, how much more so the Camino. But Jesus did take my place and my crown, as a song I listened to this morning said, and I get to have this direct access to God and a relationship in which he woos me with butterflies and nose kisses. What an adventure indeed!

Day 8: Navarette - Azofra

Day in one word: steady

"You have such a steady pace," two different people told me today. I guess that's the compliment you pay a slow walker. :-) But hey! It's day 8 out of 24 walking days, and I reached 200 km of roughly 600. I'm a third of the way there!

Since the rain fell steadily all day, too, keeping several pilgrims at bay and my phone buried deep in my pack, I started compiling a list of little lessons I've learned so far. Here's the first collection:

- I can find anything in my backpack by touch alone
- the hardest part of the whole day is always the same: swinging my feet out of bed
- don't forget to sunscreen the back of your neck
- the song "Come thou Fount" takes on a new meaning when you're thirsty
- blood blisters are real
- Compeed!!! Forget moleskin, Vaseline, duct tape, and everything else you read about. I'm buying stock in this stuff!
- obeying that still small voice is always worth it
- even a few hobbled steps can add up over time to a large distance
- if Spain is out of the World Cup, no one will watch anymore
- showers make everything better
- the towel will always be buried in the last crevice of the backpack
- when in doubt (about anything), spend time in God's presence

Day 7: Viana - Navarette

Day in one word: wind

It was literally incessant and almost felt as if it was trying to keep me in Navarra, but I successfully said goodbye to my first Spanish communidad (state or province) and entered La Rioja, winemaking region. The wind was actually quite lovely blowing through the vineyards, pushing the clouds to the east, and keeping things cool. When I walked through a nature park by a quiet lake, the wind did torture me a bit, wafting by with yummy barbecue smells.

Logrono was not my favorite city so far. It was large and industrial and very poorly marked with Camino signs. If the people hadn't been so friendly and pointed me in the right direction, who knows where I would've ended up. Which leads me to say: everyone is so kind to pilgrims. I got more well wishes of "Buen Camino" today and thumbs up. Two bikers stopped and offered to take my picture as I was attempting a selfie next to some ruins.

Today held many celebrations, from the downgrading of 3 Advil to 2, the new socks that were great, the realization that I am almost at 200 km, to the sudden Christmas music when my iPod was on shuffle. (The days are getting shorter; 6 months till Christmas, Papa!)

I did miss family today, thinking of anniversaries. Yesterday marked 1 year since Andi's surgery, and we praise God he's walking and snowboarding. Today is the 4th birthday of the niece who made me an aunt. And tomorrow, it will be 2 years since the family home burned in the Waldo Canyon fire. It'll be good to be with family again in just over a month.

Day 6: Villamayor de Montjardin - Viana

Day in one word: saturated

From the rain clouds that forced me to test my poncho to the peace I felt in my soul, enabling me to walk my furthest distance yet on blistered (and improving!) feet, to the presence of God at my second Jesus Meditation in Viana, it's been a good day. I don't want to quit anymore. :-) The reason for my camino is becoming clearer as God painted the first strokes on my white canvas.

Day 5 addendum

After I finished yesterday's post, I went to my bunk and slept and woke up feeling worse. I was cold (most likely from lack of food yesterday), I was hurting, and I was disappointed in myself because all I really wanted was to quit. The people I already knew didn't invite me to join them when they took off for a coffee, and I don't know why because I was clearly so much fun to be around at that moment.

Dinner helped, and afterwards, the Dutch hostel invited us all to Jesus Meditation at 8:30, so I went. And found out the reason that God had had me stop in Villamayor. That half an hour of soft pillows, gentle music, Scripture readings, and mint tea was balm to my body and soul. We reflected, I prayed, and God spoke, and in the midst of it, I heard him say, "THIS is reality. I am reality. Everything else will fade some day, but when you commune with me, you enter in to the deepest reality possible." After the official meditation time was over, Sarah, one of the workers and a sister in Christ, sat and talked with me, and then we both got to pray for each other. I slept much better after that.

Day 5: Lorca - Villamayor de Montjardin

Day in one word: reality

This is really an extension off of yesterday's release. Reality is that everybody has an ailment at this point in the journey. Daniela is having an allergic reaction to the sun, Andrea's hips are swollen and painful to the touch, and Nina's calves keep throbbing. So, my blisters are par for the course. However, reality is that everyone who glimpses my feet grimaces either in horror or pity. (I don't know which I dislike more.) And now there is talk that I should break off my camino and finish another time. Wow, reality bites.

Actually, most people are very encouraging. Today, I did a shorter walk, only 18 km or so, which meant that I had to say good bye to Daniela. She has definitely been my closest friend so far. The village of Villamayor is stunningly set, and the albergue I'm staying in is run by friendly Dutch Christians. One of the volunteers talked over my feet with me, and she seems to think it has more to do with my socks than my shoes. So, I have new strategies for tomorrow (as every day so far).

Reality is also telling me that I may have to skip more than just Burgos to Leon, and depending on how I'm doing in Logrono (40 km/2 days from here), I'll see about a bus from there, too. But it's okay. I've been released from the pressure, even on myself, and God and I had a beautiful, intimate walk today, despite my physical pain. The scenery is gorgeous, and I'm not even minding the sun! I'm definitely falling for Spain.

Day 4: Zariequegui - Lorca

Day in one word: Release

The highlight of the day was the early morning ascent to Alto de Perdon. If you have ever seen pictures of bronze pilgrim figures that look as though they are battling with the wind, it is this site. At merely 7:00 in the morning, it was cold, but the pictures were super as was the view back to Pamplona.

My traveling buddy Daniela took a side route which gave me some alone time today, and as I struggled onward in the heat of the afternoon and the growing blisters on my feet, I was forced to come to a point of release today, of letting go of the many expectations I had, mainly of myself, on this journey. I had to let go of thinking my feet will feel better each morning and of the notion that I may ever be able to walk 30 km in a day. It was a crazy thing, but in releasing those plans of my own making, I felt a release of pressure on myself. Pressure that you the reader will be disappointed when my "Santiago Tales" don't even make it to Santiago perhaps. I now know that I will walk what I can every day, and that will be just great. I'll see landscapes, I'll still meet a whole slew of international people, and by the time my plane takes off, I will definitely be in Santiago, even if by bus.

When I took off my shoes this night, I discovered two blood blisters, one on each heel and both the size of my thumb. That's a new one.

Day 3: Larrasoana - Zariequegui

Day in in one word: Depth

Day 2: Roncesvalles - Larrasoana

Day in one word: Blisters.

Yep, it was bad. Nils (the German I actually connected with on Day 0) wasn't quite ready to go when I was at 6:15, so I started off on my own, and it stayed that way until my first stop 7 km in. When I limped into Espinal and fell into a green plastic chair, swearing I'd never get up again. About an hour into today, I knew I was in trouble, and I tried to heed off the worst of it with moleskin and duct tape and Vaseline (my triple threat). But two hours in, I knew this wasn't going to do much.

The path was very nice, and I revived a bit in the second half. Having an audiobook is my newest recommendation so that not every single thought was "Boy do my feet hurt. Ouch, that rock was like a thorn. So was that one. Yep, my shoes are filled with blood."

I was quite confident I'd only make it to Zubiri today, which is where Nils and most of the people I'd met so far were stopping. However, there was a nice river in that town that tons of pilgrims were swimming and soaking their feet in. This gave me the boost I needed to finish the planned 5.7 km more to Larrasoana. The only people here that I recognize from yesterday are Anna again and her brother Paul (Irish), so I have all new friends again. The best part was limping to the supermarket where I overheard the cashier talking up Compeed, a slightly medicinal blister treatment that acts like a second skin; I have four on one foot, and I'm not supposed to take them off for four days! I hope this works.

The rain is rolling in. Pray it's done in the morning. (P.S. I probably won't continue a day-by-day update, but from here on out more highlights or stories.)

Day 1: St. Jean Pied de Port - Roncesvalles

Day in one word: Killer.

It's a good thing I had no Internet in Roncesvalles, or you would have gotten an earful. This day was rough. It was pretty much all uphill for 25 km, and then it got way worse by making us go down for 3. It killed my feet, it killed my self-respect, it killed any notion I ever had of being a sane person, but it did offer a killer view at the top! (Check out Facebook.) Actually, to be more truthful, most of those emotions came during the first 8 km, the worst of them all. (They don't ease you into this thing.) Once I had an Alpine view and started meeting people, I did better. Nothing starts a conversation like, "So, how badly are you hurting right now?"

After the 1,100 meter elevation climb up and the 300 down, we arrived relieved in Roncesvalles to a gorgeous and ginormous medieval church and monastery. I was so happy! The albergue has been remodeled and refurnished in the the last three years and was very comfortable, even though it has nearly 200 beds. And I'm sure over 160 were full with my new best friends. That was one thing I appreciated about this day: it definitely felt as if we were all in this together. Cheering someone else on to finish well was helping yourself be successful. I took a long, hot, glorious shower and had a scrumptious three-course meal at La Posada (of The Way fame). Everyone crowded into the 13th-century church for a pilgrims' mass, and I was surprised to see just how many were indeed Catholic. Pretty much as soon as that was done, I heard my bed beckoning me, and I'm certain I fell asleep on my bunk mate Anna while we were chatting - killed by the Pyrenees.

Day 0: travel day

Well, I am in St. Jean Pied de Port, one of the starting points for the Camino Frances. It was a long travel day. The first train to Paris was just fine, and when I had to change train stations, my path led me right through a Starbucks. Imagine that!

The second train felt long, and I almost finished an audiobook. After that it got more exciting as I hadn't realized the third leg was by bus. It was packed with pilgrims. Somehow I ended up at the front of the pack heading to the pilgrim office once we deboarded, but that was okay because I got my pilgrim passport first. I did it by getting into the German line since there was only one other guy, and the English line was huge. So, now I have my first friend. Nils and I explored the town a bit and had dinner together where we connected over the soccer game. I was nerdy and got really excited when we found two spots from the movie - the gate by the river and the bridge Martin Sheen crosses, even though I discovered it is NOT on the actual path.

The hostel is clean with hot water, though it's run by a hippie cat lady who doesn't seem to care for men or Nils. She is VERY strict about not having shoes upstairs, but she did remember me by name when I returned from dinner.

Well, I am tired and calling day 1 over. Tomorrow, we climb. Pray for me.

(P.S. For some reason, I'm having trouble uploading pictures right now. Bummer. So you can see them on Facebook under the "Camino" album if you're my friend.)

Prayer

Tonight, two very dear friends came to my house to interrupt my packing (a welcome interruption, indeed) and to pray a blessing over me. It was a tender, meaningful gesture and a very sweet commendation, especially since one of them is the friend I originally planned to take this journey with. Apparently, God had other plans since he allowed a skiing accident to interfere; I'm going to miss her presence very much. Their prayers were from the heart, and I loved beginning this adventure immersed in such prayer.

If you are the praying kind, I actually have mentally compiled a list that I am going to attempt to now spit out via the keyboard. Here are some specifics I would love your prayers to cover:

- that God would clearly fill the white space in a way that gives himself all the glory, that I would draw closer to him and become more like him
- that I would be a light to those I encounter but also a humble learner from others who have wisdom to offer
- that I would be safe, in the many aspects that entails
- that I would persevere (especially this week on Thursday and Friday when I'm crossing the Pyrenees)
- that logistics would work out regarding money, albergues (pilgrim hostels), finding route markers, trains, busses, etc.

I guess that's all I can think of for now. Thank you for following along! I leave for the train station in 7 hours....

White Space

Time for a serious reflection. My 12-hour train ride to the south of France begins in just over 24 hours. Most mornings now, I'm waking up with one word on my mind ("Camino") and my heart racing. All my prayers are centering on the forthcoming trip, the mix of anticipation of all that will be good and fear of all that might go wrong.

In the midst of these turbulent emotions, a friend recently spoke some wise words that have brought some of my spiritual expectations for this adventure into greater focus. She spoke about creating "white space" in one's life, of having down time with no plans in it. If all this time becomes is a chance to rest without any pressure, then so be it. But who knows what God might choose to write on the blank slate if we have it and present it to him.

www.katherinedutiel.com

One thing that has excited me from the beginning about this three-week long trek is that my daily responsibilities really do dwindle down to one single, daily job: to walk. If that's the only task I wake up to every day, compared to the past 9 months (or even 6 years), it is pretty uncomplicated. Such a single-minded occupation will certainly leave a lot of white space in my day.

So what do I want to have happen with this empty canvas? I want to see God to paint all over it; to show me wonders in nature, history, his Word, even himself. I desire for him to draw out truth and beauty that astound me anew. I hope to watch him sign his name over and over again until I'm confident and certain of the author of this adventure. May I fall in love with him all over again.

Packing Help!

Please look at this picture above. I've spent the past couple of hours collecting the items I'm planning on packing. Included are 2 pairs of (zip-off) pants for hiking, 2 shirts for hiking, 1 change of clothes for evenings, 1 fleece, 6-7 pairs of socks (those are ALL necessary), 3 pairs underwear, 2 bras, 1 towel, sleeping bag, rain poncho, sandals for evenings, guide book, passport, laundry detergent, sun block, ibuprofen, soap, shampoo, lotion, hairbrush, toothbrush, moleskin, chapstick, cleenex, and 3 waterproof bags.

Things not pictured but that I've remembered since (or that were too big/dirty for my bed): hiking boots, walking poles, sunglasses, water bottle, nylon day bag, and phone plus charger.

Here are my two questions to you:
1. What am I forgetting?
2. What should I definitely NOT take? (Don't say the phone or the many socks. They're both coming.)

No Bugs!

Every day I'm trying to complete at least one thing in preparation for the Camino, preferably more than that. Yesterday my victory was a purchased train ticket through France (with the help of sweet Anna). Today my project was to bug-proof my sleeping bag with this stuff:

I'll have to let you know how well it works down the road.

Prep Hike

I hiked this mountain

with these kids:

Good prep for keeping others going when they wanted to quit. Hopefully that skill will translate into speaking to my own body when the time comes. Hopefully my body will obey.

Adventurous Night

Last night some of my girlfriends and I took a hike and slept out under the stars. It allowed me to try out my little backpack and sleeping bag, plus it was some fabulous girl time with people I won't see for a long time. We fell asleep under the stars ... and awoke around 4:30 am under an ARMY OF HORNETS! Not even kidding. I wrapped myself up even tighter into my sleeping bag and tried to fall back asleep, but in my extremely tense state, that just wasn't happening. The six of us kept looking around at each other and up at the flying beasts. Finally, I cracked. I jumped up into the mass of hornets, slid my feet into my boots (on top of my glasses and flashlight), scooped up my mat and sleeping bag, and ran off to another field. The others followed shortly.

That'd better not happen on the Camino.

Mental Toughness

I'm in a cycle right now: in the mornings and early afternoons, when I think of my upcoming journey, I feel excitement and anticipation. I look at maps and pictures and imagine all kinds of great times I'm going to have. As the day wears on, however, I recall that there will be difficulties. I dread the heat, and I worry about my feet (since they have never really my allies in life). By the time I go to bed, the thoughts that plague me are "How did I ever think I could do this? I'm crazy!"

While I've been preparing physically and logistically with tickets and bag selections and final Amazon purchases (my new dri-fit socks arrived yesterday), I'm beginning to realize that so much of this adventure is going to be mental. It's going to require a perseverance that goes beyond the physical, a leaning into God when challenges arrive that I just couldn't plan for. And that's good. It's all part of the experience - at least that's what others tell me. I guess for now, I need to start engaging that mental toughness to not psych myself out. Two weeks from tomorrow I begin walking!

Memorization project

I am horrible at memorization. Seriously. Always have been and always will be. So when it comes to memorizing large chunks of Scripture, I can manage to meet a deadline, and I'll practice over and over, adding hand motions, memory associations, singsongy melodies, and anything else I can think of. Still, two weeks later: poof. It's all gone from my mind.

But I know there is value in storing God's Word in mind and heart, and I have decided that walking for 6 hours a day over the course of 3 weeks will afford me some perfect time to really hone in on a chunk of Scripture. Maybe the repetition of many days will add something new I've never tried before. My plan is to print out verses or sections on ring cards to carry in a pocket with me.

I have a few passages in mind that I either enjoy or have some kind of connection to, but do you have any suggestions? Favorite chapters? I'm open to ideas!