September 13
The day starts out rainy, cold, foggy, and uphill right outside the front door of the auberge. Still, we manage to make good progress...
...until we arrive at this van (note again how the fog affects visibility). This man says he parks at this spot every day with snacks and drinks for sale, and his Last Stamp--the last stamp available in France.
After we get our credencials stamped and are on our way again, Jerri exclaims that we forgot to take a picture. I offer to run back, and this is the beginning of the misadventure.
I go back, take the pictures above, then head along the trail to catch up to them again.
When I reach the point where I'd left Jerri and Beth, they are gone. I assume they have headed onward, knowing I would catch up. I offer you the quickie version of the story.
No matter how fast I cover the changing terrain (the path turns off the paved road, through fields, over rocky ground, through muddy sections, portions eroded into shallow ditches, and forest), I do not catch up with them. Despite the fact that the trail continues to have Camino markers, I wonder if I've gone wrong somewhere. I begin to believe that I accidentally turned onto the lower, less-often-used but longer alternate route to Roncesvalles, especially since I don't pass anyone for quite some time. I tell myself to press onward, that to turn back would put me farther behind.
Now and then, cue doubt, anxiety, fear, tears, or any combination.
To calm myself, I:
- Pray
- Remind myself that the two routes reunite
- Try to remember that my father is watching over us, I have a guardian angel, and Christ and the Holy Spirit walk with me
- Hope to find them around each turn or over the next crest.
I ask strangers I pass if they've seen two women recently and familiar faces if they've seen my sisters. I run to catch up with any two figures ahead of me. Finally, a young woman tells me they passed her about ten minutes ago.
By now I've reached the descending part of the route, much of it very steep. I really hate descents; I have a history of slipping and sliding down them. Now, however, I move much faster than my comfort zone.
As a result, I soon find myself in Roncesvalles (at 1:00), having covered 17 km in five hours. Jerri and Beth are not here. It is easy to know this because Roncesvalles consists of all of four buildings.
People who cared for me (tea, comfort, translating, etc.) and looked out for Jerri and Beth: several people from the auberge in Orisson who arrived around the same time as me; the bartender in the Posada Hotel (“Señora, señora, tranquilo. Tranquilo."), and the two volunteer greeters at the refugio.
Around 3:00, one of the greeters gestures to me. I approach to see Jerri and Beth entering the refugio. Much joy and many tears (all mine) ensue, along with hugs and relief and sharing of both sides of the story.
Speaking of which, I hope to get Jerri to tell their side of the story. If not, I'll let you know what happened.
The day starts out rainy, cold, foggy, and uphill right outside the front door of the auberge. Still, we manage to make good progress...
...until we arrive at this van (note again how the fog affects visibility). This man says he parks at this spot every day with snacks and drinks for sale, and his Last Stamp--the last stamp available in France.
I go back, take the pictures above, then head along the trail to catch up to them again.
When I reach the point where I'd left Jerri and Beth, they are gone. I assume they have headed onward, knowing I would catch up. I offer you the quickie version of the story.
No matter how fast I cover the changing terrain (the path turns off the paved road, through fields, over rocky ground, through muddy sections, portions eroded into shallow ditches, and forest), I do not catch up with them. Despite the fact that the trail continues to have Camino markers, I wonder if I've gone wrong somewhere. I begin to believe that I accidentally turned onto the lower, less-often-used but longer alternate route to Roncesvalles, especially since I don't pass anyone for quite some time. I tell myself to press onward, that to turn back would put me farther behind.
Now and then, cue doubt, anxiety, fear, tears, or any combination.
To calm myself, I:
- Pray
- Remind myself that the two routes reunite
- Try to remember that my father is watching over us, I have a guardian angel, and Christ and the Holy Spirit walk with me
- Hope to find them around each turn or over the next crest.
I ask strangers I pass if they've seen two women recently and familiar faces if they've seen my sisters. I run to catch up with any two figures ahead of me. Finally, a young woman tells me they passed her about ten minutes ago.
By now I've reached the descending part of the route, much of it very steep. I really hate descents; I have a history of slipping and sliding down them. Now, however, I move much faster than my comfort zone.
As a result, I soon find myself in Roncesvalles (at 1:00), having covered 17 km in five hours. Jerri and Beth are not here. It is easy to know this because Roncesvalles consists of all of four buildings.
People who cared for me (tea, comfort, translating, etc.) and looked out for Jerri and Beth: several people from the auberge in Orisson who arrived around the same time as me; the bartender in the Posada Hotel (“Señora, señora, tranquilo. Tranquilo."), and the two volunteer greeters at the refugio.
Around 3:00, one of the greeters gestures to me. I approach to see Jerri and Beth entering the refugio. Much joy and many tears (all mine) ensue, along with hugs and relief and sharing of both sides of the story.
Speaking of which, I hope to get Jerri to tell their side of the story. If not, I'll let you know what happened.
Karen, I'm relieved you're safe. You did really well not panicking. *hugs* I'm not sure I would have done as well. The pictures you're posting are incredible and so is that fog. Wow, I haven't seen fog like that since I lived in Oregon!
ReplyDeletemom, i nearly cried panicked myself when i read your side of the story. i just thought you were really brave to carry on and not stop, turn around or get too worried. I'm really proud of you!
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