Pilgrimage

According to Wikipedia, a pilgrimage is a journey, often into an unknown or foreign place, where a person goes in search of new or expanded meaning about their self, others, nature, or a higher good, through the experience. It can lead to a personal transformation, after which the pilgrim returns to their daily life.

The Camino Frances is a 490-mile pilgrimage route from St. Jean Pied de Port to Santiago de Compostela. This Camino route is walked by hundreds of thousands of pilgrims every year. The Camino starts in France and on the way to Santiago crosses several regions in Northern Spain. For a prepared and experienced hiker, this route takes about 30 days start to finish. I estimate that it will take Jody and me 42 days to complete.

Initially, I was concerned that since both of my knees have been replaced, I might not be able to complete the journey. I shushed the concern by buying and reading Camino Easy: A Guide to the Camino de Santiago for Mature Walkers and Walk In A Relaxed Manner: Life Lessons From The Camino.

I reintroduced myself to the Hennepin County Library system, filled my bag with Camino de Santiago books and a DVD, “The Way.” If you recall, Martin Sheen plays a father headed overseas to recover the body of his estranged son who died while traveling the “El camion de Santiago,” and decides to take the pilgrimage himself.

On Facebook, I joined Camino de Santiago All Routes and Camigas a Buddy System for Women on the Camino. Through numerous posts per day, I follow others as they hike. I’ve learned how to take care of blisters and whether I should pack a poncho or rain jacket.

Most people hike 15 miles a day and many carry their pack. I’ve decided that we will hike between 10-13 miles a day, take rest days, and send our packs ahead.

I continue to emphasize to Jody (even though she doesn’t ask) that we are going to take our time walking. Our focus will be on enjoying the trek, the outdoors, and the people we meet.

I can barely stop myself from packing my suitcase.

The only problem is we aren’t leaving until September 2024, and we will need our bags before then.

Researching our pilgrimage down to the miles walked per day, daily lodging, and rest days is my joy. I’m lost for hours in the planning. It’s like going on the trip twice.

Crystel is a sophomore at the University of Manoa for the 2022-2023 school year. Our Maui trip in December 2022 to visit is planned, confirmed, and booked. A binder is compiled with information: airline tickets, car rental, lodging, snorkeling, cliff jumping, surf lessons, Cat Sanctuary, Glass Blowing, ATV touring, Whale Watching, Hang Gliding, and of course a Luau.

Not all our trips go as planned. COVID cancelled our three-week trip to Japan and Crystel’s Spanish Immersion Guatemalan Homestay trip. This summer flooding cancelled our trip to Yellowstone. Cancelled trips are shelved but not tossed into the ‘never will happen’ basket.

Two weeks ago Crystel expressed interest in reviving the trip to Guatemala for Spanish learning. She asked me to join her.

Immediately, I started researching Spanish Schools and family homestays. I see possibilities. I could learn Spanish and converse with other pilgrims on the Camino. Jody and Juan could meet up with us towards the end of our month-long stay. Most importantly, I could spend 4 weeks with my daughter.

Now, that would be some pilgrimage.

I hope all goes as planned. For the month of July, 2023, I’ve booked a homestay and language school for us in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala. I can barely stop myself from packing!

Passing The Torch

I pulled the box of camping supplies from the rafters in the garage. Jody and I are veteran tent campers: Boundary Waters, New Zealand, Glacier National Park, Rocky Mountains, Itasca State Park and more. Crystel and a group of her friends were planning their first camping trip without adults over MEA weekend.

I asked her their destination. Pattison State Park south of Superior, Wisconsin. Situated on the Black River, the park contains Big Manitou Falls, the highest waterfall in Wisconsin. Besides the waterfalls, this park also featured Interfalls Lake, a beach and over 10 miles of trails for hiking.  The reviews of the park were excellent.

She wasn’t sure if the campground would have electricity or water.  “That would be important to know,” I told her. I pulled out my computer and started googling. Electricity was a definite No. Water could be shut off depending on the temperature.

“Maybe you should get a motel?” I said.

She looked at me horror-struck. “Ah, no.”

I was a bit proud of her. Wanting to go camping instead of staying in a motel. It would be exciting. I thought of my camping trips, cooking around the fire, being surrounded by nature, and dealing with the elements. It’s all part of the adventure.

A fusty smell rose from the storage box of camping supplies. As I began to sort, I started to wonder if I had anything of value left to pass on to her. More was going in the discard pile then the keep pile. It must have been over 20 years since Jody and I had tent camped in the Boundary Waters.

Unpacking the nesting pots and pans was like unwrapping a Christmas gift. I was delighted to pull each pot and pan out and marveled how items could become a plate or bowl depending on your need. After putting the set back together, I placed it next to the blue enamel coffee pot and matching enamel cups in the keep pile.

I was committed to setting Crystel and her friends up for success. Even though we had two camp stoves, I decided to make a quick trip to REI and purchase a new one. Being warm in a tent and having hot food would be essential. I picked a stove that had 2 adjustable burners with wind-blocking panels. Best of all it had a built-in igniter. No flame thrower needed. Even I could do it.

 Meal ideas, flashlights, kerosene, tent, sleeping bags, mats – I continued to prepare for her trip. I did ask her at one point if I was helping too much.

“Nah,” she said. I think she was beginning to see my value.

Her camping trip plans regressed as hastily as the weather. Cold, below freezing, rain, snow, partial sun, cloudy. Her numbers dwindled. It would be her and two other girls.

During our tent and camp stove demonstration, I mentioned to the girls that they needed to keep their camp food stored in their car so the bears wouldn’t get it.

“Bears?” one friend said.

Was it that comment or other variables that changed their camping trip to a day trip? The next day, when Crystel told me of the new plans, I confess, I choked back a sob. Her adventure was no more.

Last week she said that maybe she and I could go camping up north by ourselves. Hmmm. It could happen. Our camping supplies are already sorted. We have all the equipment. And, a camp stove I can light. What better way to pass the torch?

Climbing Mountains

My morning stretch.

My leg was stretched in the roll cradle when the Technical Manager came through the warehouse door.

“No problem here” he said. Not even questioning why a Human Resources Manager would be in the warehouse with her leg raised in the air.

He kept walking until he heard my tussling. “Do you need help?”

“Yeah, my foot is stuck.”

He walked back to me. Smiled. Lifted my foot from where it had gotten wedged into the crook of the iron.

“No problem here,” he said and continued on.

The next day, I was in the warehouse swinging my leg to reach an upright when the Maintenance Manager came by.

“Beth, don’t hurt yourself,” he said.

“You guys must have moved these uprights. I could reach them last week.” He chuckled.

I’m aging. I’ll be 60 years old next month. I still want to climb mountains.

My afternoon stretch.

I’m finding that I’m not as limber or flexible, and it’s harder to keep the weight off. At my last physical, I told the doctor that even though I’m biking every day, my weight is exactly the same.

“It doesn’t matter how much you bike,” she said. “At your age it’s about what you eat. You have to eat less.”

I paused for a moment. “Well, that’s not going to happen,” I said. “I like to eat.”

She finished injecting cortisone in my right knee. I have osteoarthritis in both knees. It is a degenerative “wear-and-tear” type of arthritis that occurs most often in people 50 years of age and older.

When I hear of someone who has had a knee replaced, my attention sharpens.

I’m afraid of not being able to climb mountains.

On the summit of the Upper Mayan Trail with our guide Alex.

I’m a 2^nd Dan Tae Kwon Do Black Belt but haven’t been able to attend classes for a couple of years. I’ve run at least 7 marathons but haven’t run at all for at least a year. I believe I should do the things I can do. I can bike. I can stretch. I can climb mountains …. sometimes.

My goal on our Guatemala trip this June was to hike the Upper Mayan Trail, hiking from the shores of Lake Atilan to Solola. Close to 3000 ft. elevation gain in 4 miles. A very steep trail, with beautiful scenery, and several encounters with local Mayan carrying firewood on their back or working in the fields.

Jody and Crystel led the way, turning from time, encouraging me on. Juan Jose’ and our guide Alex were there with a helping hand. What a gift to have my son reach his hand out to take mine. And, a guide, our friend, who is such a wonderful role model for our children.

I’m aging. There is beauty and grace in that.

Note: the featured image is Juan Jose’, Alex, and Crystel standing on the precipice of the Upper Mayan Trail.

 

 

“I’m Not Afraid”

Cheryl Strayed at Concordia College

Saying “I’m not afraid” over and over got Cheryl Strayed from the Mohave Desert through California and Oregon to Washington State – over an eleven-hundred-mile solo hike on the Pacific Crest Trail. I tried it myself this week–the mantra, not the hike–and it worked. I got through another moment. Cheryl Strayed had many moments on the trail with dangerous animals, a snowstorm, and misery.

Monday, October 20^th, I was with over 2,000 people listening to Cheryl as she spoke from the lectern at Concordia College.

She dropped bits of wisdom throughout the night.

“Don’t make fear my God.”

Her book reading was different from all others that I’ve attended in that she never read a word from Wild. She talked to us. We could have been gathered around a very large coffee table.

I had her book, Wild, for as long as it took her to do the hike – a summer–before I read a word. I was resistant because I didn’t want to be disappointed. I thought the praise for her writing might be because she was a local girl done good, and if I picked up the book the story would fall apart in my hands.

Enough people recommended Wild that I finally opened to the first page. Whoa.

I looked around the gymnasium at Concordia. A couple thousand people, including me, could relate to her story. How did she do that?

“It’s the only book that spoke to me,” said my friend sitting next to me. Her husband passed away eight months ago. “People know that I like to read. I got a lot of books, but this was the only one….”

“How can I bear the unbearable?”

Cheryl called her hike a universal journey. A journey of finding who we are and then coming to peace with that. “Grief is love,” she added.

Therein lay my answer. Universal truths. Truths that apply to all people.

“Love is the nutrient that we need.”

“Alone with something I couldn’t lift but I had to lift it.”

December 5, Wild will be coming out in movie theatres.

Cheryl invited me to the after-party. She invited all of us. How did she make me feel included in her trajectory?

Her author page on Facebook has 105,627 likes. She’s been accessible, not losing herself in her climb.

In my research of her many interviews and talks around the country she didn’t lose herself in the publishing process or the making of a movie.

“In a heroic battle to make my way back to myself.”

During the evening Cheryl spoke about refusing to allow herself, her writing, or her story to be pigeonholed. Wild isn’t just for women. 50 percent of her correspondence is from men.

She left me with a ‘how to’ for when my book sells: Go in expecting respect and politely inform others. An artist shouldn’t defend his or her work.

Her book is powerful but she is even more powerful.

“I’m not afraid,” I can imagine her … me … and all of us … continuing to say on our own personal hike.

What’s In Arkansas?

The Movie Shoot

Thanksgiving dinner, good company, excellent hiking trails, a movie shoot, and 50 degree weather.

The second question to arise in the ten-hour drive from Minneapolis is why is Arkansas pronounced AR-ken-saw?

Our van ride was more docile than the fight in 1881 over the State’s pronunciation.The pronunciation of Arkansas was made official by an act of the state legislature in 1881, after a dispute between two U.S. Senators from Arkansas. One wanted to pronounce the name ar-KAN-zes and the other wanted AR-ken-saw.

Hobbs State Park Conservation Area

I hadn’t done any research on the inlaws or the state of Arkansas prior to visiting. I returned to Minneapolis after our 4-day stay delighted in both. So much so, I thought about moving.

Prior to our visit, I had not given any thought to the geography of the state. I pictured it as a small postage stamp. What I found was surprisingly different.

The state’s geography ranges from mountains to densely forested land to  lowlands along the Mississippi River. Arkansas has 52 state parks.

Hobbs State Park Recreation Area, where we hiked has bluffs, rocky outcrops, limestone bedrock, caves, sink holes, and a fault line. Crystel has lately been in the habit of cartwheeling everywhere she goes and can now say that she has done it on a trail in Arkansas.

Signage in Arkansas could be an issue. In this picture if you look at the sign it clearly says that the War Eagle Valley Loop is straight ahead. That is actually Little Clifty Creek – the difference being a 9 mile hike instead of the 6 mile hike we envisioned ourselves on. I shouted after the mountain bikers and horse back riders what trail they thought THEY were on. And we weren’t thinking the same.

Orange tree.

One just needs to keep in mind the earlier dispute in 1881. There was obviously confusion there too and they even made it a law to keep it confusing.

Near our home base was a wonderful backyards trail in J.B. Hunt Park. The park covers 105 acres and was a beautiful hour walk that included a path around a  lake, a spring, and orange trees. The oranges looked like brains.

The children received their first ‘real’ paycheck in Arkansas. They were paid to be in a movie shoot with What’s Up, Que Pasa.

Ozark Video needed two 11-year old children that knew a bit of Spanish for a quiz show. Fortunately, we were available and Antonio and Crystel had the right complexion.  This could be the start of something big.

Arkansas is definitely a place to visit. Don’t skirt around it. Stop, if you are in the area.