Friday, July 4, 2014

Camino 2014: Day 8 Navarette to Ciruena (James)

Camino 2014: Day 8 Navarette to Ciruena (James)
Miles today: 19.7
Miles Total: 129.7

Normally I don't write two of these in a row, but much like yesterdays's blog post about pushing on when times get tough, today's theme is much the same and we were all tested today.  

Our morning started out easy enough with mist coming from the dark clouds that we can't seem to shake.  The mist quickly turned to rain after we donned ponchos and other rain repelling gear.  A cozy cafe allowed us a break with cafe con leche and hot chocolate, both much needed after the wet, chilly morning.  The next 10k had us in and out of vineyards on red, earthen tracks, stopping periodically to sample whatever fruit tree happened to be ripe.  In a few places, the recent rains made the paths a slick, muddy mess, slowing our progress and generally making things tougher.  We soon reached the town of Najera and took another break.  Anxious not to prolong the day for the kids on their feet, I tried to usher them on quicker than normal and get them to the hostal earlier than yesterday.  It seemed to work and we were well on our way on the last stretch in good spirits.  

The girls walked together today.  Of the conversations I actually heard, they ranged from the comically delirious (which is quite funny when they get tired) to more serious conversations.  I know sometimes they might not like the walking, but I hope they will come to appreciate the time it affords them to have real, deep conversations, the kind that modern technology and other distractions these days so rarely give them a chance to do.  There was even a mini performance of the Sound of Music.


Unfortunately, that is where the positivity for the day stopped.  Sahra and I, ahead of the group, approached Ciruena, the small town that was supposed to have a hostel.  It was a strange looking town that looked very much like a huge condominium development project with an adjacent golf course that was supposed to be all the rage and open in 2008 or so.  You know, when everything crashed.  The streets were empty, for sale signs everywhere and confusing little arrows marking where the Camino was supposed to go.  Thinking that it would be nice to find the hostel so that when the girls arrived, we didn't all have to look for it, like yesterday, Sahra and I continued up the street looking and looking.  Eventually I remained on a corner street waiting for the girls while Sahra went searching for the hostel.  I figured the girls were maybe ten minutes behind so when 20 minutes passed and still no sign of them, I began to worry.  Meanwhile, Sahra returned having found the hostel and I told her I would walk up the street a bit to see if I could find them.  That walk turned into a run when the first couple of pilgrims gave me very confused looks concerning the "tres chicas de Estados Unidos" I was looking for.  Apparently they hadn't seen them.  The next two bikers hadn't seen them either.  All the sudden my mind was a whirlwind trying to recall all the confusing waymarks of the last 5k.  Could they have taken a different dirt track or been confused crossing one of the roads?  Everything was pretty straightforward, or so it seemed, which was why we didn't stop and wait for them, but now my mind was filled with so much doubt.  At the same time, the calm voice in my head was trying to reassure me that no matter what, they were skilled, they can read read a map, they knew how to check into a place if they needed, they knew how to ask questions, and they knew exactly the town we were staying.  However, I still ran down the trail further to talk with one more pilgrim coming up the path.  His answer confirmed that the girls weren't there.  I thanked him and turn back up the path to report to Sahra that I couldn't find them and to come up with a plan to locate them.  15 minutes later I was standing in front of Sahra and the owner of the albergue talking over what to do next.  We had everything planned out for Sahra to stay and check in with the other hostels and try to get messages sent to the girls as to where we were if they could find Internet and I was heading back out for a foot search.  I chugged some water, gave Sahra a quick hug and started for the door.  It was just at this time I saw Mimi peek through.  I have never been so relieved.  I could see Emily and Lanie were stressed and we made it a point to just get checked in.  Apparently, they got confused on the way into town and took one street over from where we were waiting and missed us.  It was crazy how the timing worked out.  They made it to the other hostel in town and only when a group of people I had asked earlier as to whether they had seen them or not arrived did they get word where Sahra was at. 


I know from experience getting lost can be one of the biggest demoralizing events on a journey such as this.  It can be just for a few brief moments, but the doubt in your abilities and fortitude exponentially increases and you are quickly left feeling hollow and vulnerable.  It is not just the mounain passes that can wear you down out here.  I hope as we continue, days like this, however hard they can be, can serve to help us realize a strong inner core; one that can be exposed and beaten, but not broken.

On a lighter note, this hostal has a tv and we are bound and determined to finish the day with some soccer.  

Buen Camino,
James


Special thanks for the day go to:
Grandma Kyser, The Grange, and Ryan and Stephanie Gardiepy


Thanks to our mile sponsors!
Terri and Richard Roberts, Jan Cornelius, Mr. Gibson, Julie Bergstrom, Jerry Lacamp, June Roberts, and Mr. Marchs' Father

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