2023 Sep 17 Roncesvalles - Zubiri

A MOST CHALLENGING DAY

Quick Start, Quick Stop

Another gorgeous morning was ours to enjoy! Heading out onto the next phase, we heard a few pilgrims remark about expected rain and how they wanted to hurry and make good time. We had barely crossed the street to the sidewalk leaving Roncesvalles when Martha made a firm decision. She was going to remove her sports shoes and continue walking in her Croc-brand open sandals. One of her left toes was bruised and causing extreme pain and continuous discomfort from the bashing it took the day before in the steep downhills. She could not continue wearing her normal shoes. Given the rough terrain this seemed like a questionable attempt that may have to be changed depending on how it went.

It is a good time to inject that we tried to place close attention to our feet and did the self-massages, vaseline application to reduce friction, and sock changes whenever possible. My own challenge was that my right toe pinky had a stubborn inside callous rubbing against the toe next to it. In addition, I had purchased what are known as recovery sandals based on a Youtube video where the vlogger mentioned their great value in preventing foot injuries and restoring them to a healthy condition. Recovery sandals are in my list of top personal items to obtain and have for the Camino. Note: I chose an easy-to-spot design (my wife says UGLY) so others wouldn't confuse them as their own.

Bridges and Streams

The lush forest paths provided a storybook setting for crossing bridges over picturesque streams. It was amazing to realize that we were using routes that had been traversed during monumental historical events. I'm not exactly sure how entire armies traveled through the demanding and challenging obstacles. The Camino would change to be either dirt or rocks or pavement depending on the section. Every turn was a new surprise. What's that horse doing here? Where are the parents? Mostly we walked in solitude and only occasionally encountered other pilgrims. These moments of being encapsulated by nature literally ground you to the earth.    

Villages and Towns

We passed through quaint villages including Burguete and Espinal that offered visually stunning glimpses that connected back to medieval times. Their cobbled streets, stone houses, and charming churches like the 12th-century Iglesia de Santiago in Espinal were spellbinding. The fantastical experience lifted our spirits. We made a quick brunch stop in Espinal where a loud cyclist group of men from Barcelona jovially celebrated their journey in an adjoining table. Their spirit was contagious.

The Climb, The Heat, The Technique

Once again, we confronted a poignant reality. We had not made the physical preparation necessary to climb the steep inclines of the Camino. The steep and steady ascents took their toll. Like the day before, my body was becoming repeatedly overheated and I needed numerous breaks to catch my breath and gather my strength. It was very frustrating to feel that way while being surrounded by stunning vistas on what had been a beautiful weather day, so far. 

I remembered a previous thought and intention of resting before the point of over-exerting myself. So I decided that the way to Pamplona was to become the conditioning workout and cardio-prep that had been missing. From that point, and for the rest of the Camino I did this (fellow Camino pilgrims, maybe this can help you): 

75 uphill steps of forceful, yet measured energy, Stop. 

25 hip sways, moderate knee bends, leg stretches, water sips, and breath recovery. Go.

Repeat...

I would stop whether feeling tired or not allowing me to advance with purpose and structured rhythm.  

It worked! 

The Clouds, The Thunder, The Rain

Just as I began to revel in my maniacal brilliance :), Martha and I noticed that behind some mountain tree tops there were rumblings of soft thunder. She looked at me that certain look to make sure that my dinner from last night was not at work from within. Rumble, rumble. Hmmm. Rumble, rumble. Ok, nope, not him, she concluded. Then without further warning, steadily darkening clouds began rolling and hovering over us. Rain HAD been mentioned to us and predicted but until now there was no previous sign of anything. The trees rustled and shook their leaves bringing in a strong blast of wind. Sure enough, marble-size splatters of rain came crashing from above. We activated our rain gear and without a hint of any other viable choice, we kept climbing. And it rained, Rained, RAINED. And it thundered, Thundered, THUNDERED. And we got soaked, Soaked, SOAKED.

But, something positive (for me) also happened. The storm had become a personal blessing. The rain continually cooled my body and streamed into my lips invigorating and replenishing me. For the duration of the storms, I zoomed up the trail like I had been motorized. No resting needed. At one point when it was safe, I stopped, raised my head in reverence to the sky, and welcomed the pelting rain on my face. Letting steady rain splash onto my face was something I had not done since I was 5 or 6 years old. I was a child again. As for Martha, nothing had stopped her anyway. She slish-sloshed in her flip-flop Crocs as if she was using mini-surfboards. Wow.

To be clear, these were not ordinary rains in a regular thunderstorm. They were heavy monsoon lashings pouring onto us with vigorous force. The trails became extremely dangerous and difficult to climb due to the ground streams, the jagged, loose, slippery rocks, and the muddy ground. The skies would clear for a short stretch only to be followed by another wave of thick thunderclouds, each with heavy volumes of rain. We're not sure how many waves there were, but this lasted for hours. When the heavy rain subsided, small droplets continued. During this time, my smartphone got ruined. Isn't that dumb?

Descent into Zubiri

The going was so difficult and treacherous that it triggered a dispute over our being there. Martha expressed her desire to be back home and stated that she wished that I could stay and continue "having a good time". I was stunned, but it triggered an automatic and emotional response. My overriding reason for being on the Camino was never for the purpose of "having a good time." She herself had volunteered to be with me for supporting me during what was described by many as being the most difficult days. As I recounted my original purpose my most inner emotions and tears took control of my words. 

The purpose was to honor my mother. The purpose was to seek atonement. The purpose was for wishing I had been A Better Son. I was to write more about this later in Pamplona.

While much of my experience was indeed adventurous and fun and many of my retold recollections are written in a light-hearted manner, the silent desire of my heart and strength in my every step was derived from one single source - it was to honor my mother. She lifted me in her life and she was lifting me now. When I faltered, her fortitude appeared. When I ached, her memory healed. When I doubted, her voice reassured. Who understood my needs and sent me the invigorating rain? Thanks be to God, I needn't wonder. It was liberating to have these innermost sentiments revealed.

Knees and Trembling Legs

We stumbled and trudged onward to Zubiri. Martha carefully navigated the rocks and I used my waterproof shoes to walk directly through the streaming rain waters. In fact, my shoes were so waterproof that all the rain that entered their below-ankle openings did not want to come out. If the previous two days had been difficult, this day was exasperating. A normal length step would take 3 or 4 tiny steps to ensure we wouldn't fall. Every rock was a potential trip-ending disaster or worse. The steepness of the descent was killing my knees. What should take 5 minutes, took 30 or more.

There was absolutely no way to capture the harrowing scenes that unfolded. As arriving to Zubiri became imminent, we stopped at a narrow ledge above the rocky path to rest. Our legs trembled in weakness while we contemplated whether we should add an extra night in Zubiri. My knees were burning, our bodies exhausted, and Martha was only focused on getting to our room to change into clean and dry clothes and to rest. Finally, we reached Zubiri crossing the bridge over the rain-invigorated river rushing underneath. In town we were able to quickly find our lodging and begin to unwind.

mario@mmddestinos.com

NEXT: Zubiri