Ruination Day

In the Spring of 1991 I learned that there is one day every year in Ireland when the pubs are closed.  Good Friday is that day.  The holiest day on the Irish calendar.  I was traveling on a weekend with two classmates and we had just checked into a hostile in Sligo.  We had planned on a pub meal for dinner but when we asked the hostess about pub recommendations she said, "They're all closed today, or they are for you anyway."  As we ambled downtown in search of food we began to better understand her statement.  The pubs were all locked up.  The curtains were drawn and the shutters closed tightly but we could hear people inside.  I would check the door but they were all locked. It was a "locals only" night at the pubs.  We reckoned that they were entering and leaving via back doors but our hostess was correct.  The pubs were all closed to us.

This year Good Friday falls on April 14th.  How ruined can one day get?  The assassination of Abraham Lincoln fell on Good Friday April 14th 1865.  The Titanic struck an iceberg in the North Atlantic shortly before midnight on April 14th 1912.  The dust storm considered to be the worst in American history known as Black Sunday occurred April 14th 1935.  Now add the crucifixion of Jesus and you have a day that I don't want anything to do with.

The first time I had heard of Ruination Day was when my daughter Clare had asked me about it.  She had learned about it through the Gillian Welch album "Time (the Revelator)."  Two songs on that album feature that most ominous of all days, "April 14th" and "Ruination Day."  Welch describes the birth of the phrase "Ruination Day" as follows:  "It was in the body of working on “April the 14th” and “Ruination Day,”—which were first one song and then kind of split apart into two songs—that I spat out the phrase “ruination day,” and then that was that."

You can read more about it in the link below and listen to the songs.

gillian-welch-on-ruination-day

April 14th part 1

Ruination Day

Last year Ruination Day got personal for me as my mom passed away on April 14th.  She always hated doing her taxes.  I figured she had chosen the day as a way to wring the most out of 2016 without filing but perhaps she just wanted to hide behind all of the prior tragedy of this day.  I know she would never want anyone mourning her.  She was one of the most generous people I have ever known, always thinking of others. So while I'm thinking about all that has gone down on 4/14 the thing that occupies my thoughts is the one year anniversary of the death of my mother April14th, 2016 at the age of 95.  Miss you mom.

Monument Valley

Today we visited Monument Valley near the Arizona Utah border. It is entirely contained on the Navajo Reservation. We were led by a Navajo guide Will and shown the spectacular monuments and numerous iconic film location sites. Will knows his way around an iPhone pano.

https://indiancountrymedianetwork.com/culture/arts-entertainment/12-movies-shot-in-monument-valley-on-the-navajo-nation/.

Clare recreated an iconic Marlboro Man shot on horseback at John Ford's point. So we didn't get it exactly correct. I like it better. Tofu Woman > Marlboro Man.

We also visited native Navajo homes called hogans. They have a log skeleton and are covered in dried mud. The women's are round and the men's slightly elongated. Both have a fire in the middle and a door facing the east. When the sun enters the door in the morning it marks the month on the wall and the time of doing different things such as planting or hunting. We especially liked the rock formation called "Big Hogan" where Indiana Jones was filmed dropping into the snake pit.

As we left the Reservation and headed west we crossed the exact spot where Forrest Gump stopped running. Run Forrest Run!

Next we met up with Jenny and Shawn for a burger and beers at Ska Brewing. We also toured the spectacular Ohfield Lodge tucked into a mountainside up above beautiful Durango, CO. I could spend a day in the garage checking out bikes but the kids were in awe when Shawn fired up the speakers in the sound studio and sat them at the controls. Some say that dogs shouldn't hot tub but Iko, Uni and Banjo beg to differ. To cap off the day I finally met my Elder, Pliny the Elder! I've wanted to sample that Russian River masterpiece for quite some time and thanks to Jenny and Shawn I now have. It is not an easy beer to find on the East Coast. The Ohfield Lodge Tour is top notch and now that it is paired with a Pliny sampling you'd best book early! Thanks guys!!

Life is Grand

This is going to be more of a photo journal than a blog post. Clare, Patrick and I just did a 3 day backpacking trip off the South Rim of the Grand Canyon at Grandview. We hiked and camped with a guide and a father and son from Oklahoma. It was an amazing experience. The Canyon is massive in scale. That point is driven home as you hike down into it. The hiking was strenuous but we had been forewarned. An email from Wildland Trekking Company 4weeks ago asked how our training was going. That caught my attention but still wasn't enough to move me to perform the suggested training of 2-3 hours of stair climbing with a loaded pack. In retrospect it would have been wise. On day one we hiked off the South Rim to Hance Creek, a five mile hike that lost 3,500' in elevation. When someone tells you it's all downhill don't necessarily think that it will be easy. We camped under some Cottonwood trees and were serenaded by a choir of frogs as we Cowboy camped under a clear star filled sky. The next morning we broke camp and hiked up to Horsehoe Mesa. We set up our camp in a juniper break and pondered the potential Gin production of the Mesa. The entire area of our hike also showed great potential for Tequila production as Agave plants were everywhere, many with their seed stalks probing skyward. We cooked dinner out on the western arm of the horseshoe and watched a beautiful sunset. We made our way back to camp under headlamps and then collapsed onto our sleeping pads. The wind picked up and sent us into our sleeping bags and we watched the constellations above as we fell asleep. Day three saw an early start as we climbed back up to the South Rim at 7,200'. We were in the Suburban by 11am and headed back to Flagstaff. I can already feel the soreness coming on but it was so worth it. We missed Abbey and Amy but we shall return no doubt.

Danger in Dingé

Here lies the tall tale of a randonneur and a calcule as it appeared in the American Randonneur edited and introduced by Mike Dayton who was a first hand witness to the alarming events as they unfolded. (click link below)

https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B2jEt05c5PgVOXlMOXJ4UTN6cnM/view?usp=sharing

Why

Why did you decide to do the Camino? It is a common question heard along the Way. Before leaving home it was a question that I had prepared for even if I didn't have a deep answer. Why we do things is a very important question. Frequently I torment our kids with this question but I consider it essential. Why are you doing that? Why do you want to do that?

Why did I do the Camino de Santiago? I did it because Amy wanted to do it. I wanted to be a part of the experience. I figured that I would have a lot of time along the way to figure out why I was there. The office of Peregrinos keeps detailed statistics of why pilgrims make their way to Santiago. Most are for religious or cultural reasons. Mine were a combination. But these statistics are derived from checkboxes, not open ended questions or long conversations over a meal or bottle of wine. Several times we heard of ill or deceased relatives or friends as the reason behind a Camino. Sometimes it was in response to a life changing situation. Some wanted to quit smoking and others just wanted a challenge.

https://oficinadelperegrino.com/en/statistics/

Why make a pilgrimage for someone ill? Why make one for someone deceased? Perhaps we are seeking a thin place so that our voice or intentions are heard. I don't believe that thin places only exist in Cathedrals. The Cliffs of Moher are one of those places for me but the power of the millions before us on the Camino and the hundreds that traveled with us create something palpable. The Way feels like a thin place in itself. I credit Sue Hunter with putting this concept of thin places into my ear. Read more below.

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/11/travel/thin-places-where-we-are-jolted-out-of-old-ways-of-seeing-the-world.html

One of those precise places was behind the statue of St. James where we placed our hands on his shoulders. I've included a picture from the front. No pictures were allowed from behind. Those are Clare's hands on his shoulders as he looks down on the Cathedral altar.

To gain perspective of how many people have come before us look at how worn the stairs are leading down from the statue.

As I talked with other pilgrims along the Camino I realized that I was walking walking for two reasons. First, in honor of my mother Peg who passed away earlier this year and her unconditional love and incredible faith. She knew nothing of the Camino but she would have loved it. She would have been everyone's best friend. Most of you reading this likely remember her as a frail elderly woman but I remember her as being strong and fearless and my protector. Second, for the continued healing of my best buddy Mike. I thought of him so many times along the Way because we've had so many similar adventures together. The rhythm of the Camino is just like the randonneuring that we do by bicycle. Searching for food, finding incredible coffees in the smallest of villages, collapsing exhausted into bed so grateful for a horizontal position of repose and a roof over our heads. These were the two stones that I carried up to pinnacle of the Camino, the Cruz de Ferro, Peg and Mike.

I also used my thin place time to pray for special intentions sent to us from friends and family. You don't need a thin place for prayer, but it surely doesn't hurt.  Some people are on the Camino because they have gone through turmoil. Death of a loved one or perhaps a divorce. Our buddy Jonathan was carrying some of his mother's ashes. She died at a young age. He was such a presence. He finished a day behind us carrying loaves of bread for the French family of 8 who came in with him.

Others are there to change their lives. Many had quit their jobs. Some wind up staying. I don't feel that we were looking to change our lives although perhaps our trajectory has been altered. Some peregrinos find the Camino so compelling that they never leave it. We are already on a flight home.

The Camino is said to return us to childhood. We become more open, less judgmental and just want to help the others around us. If that is the lasting message that one gets from the Camino then I think everyone should do it. We made so many new friends. Collecting friends and experiences builds the greatest fortune.

We learned about Spain, ourselves and each other. I learned that "venga" and "vale" can be used to mean just about anything and are sprinkled liberally through every conversation. I learned that Amy can accomplish anything that she sets her mind to (although I kind of knew that already). Now I just have proof. I learned that Clare is tough as nails and speaks wonderful Spanish with a perfect Castellano accent! Venga!! It's so rewarding to see Amy train for months and then complete the Camino strongly and to see all of Clare's hard work learning Spanish pay off for her and us. Our Camino would not have been as meaningful without her and her translation, which allowed us to connect with so many people. We actually communicated with our Italian friends Massimo and Anna through Spanish. Amy and I would say something. Clare would translate into Spanish then Anna would translate back to Italian! I learned that I love northern Spain and walking. Venga!!

I have a strong feeling that we will return. There are so many Caminos. Many Europeans do them in stages. Our friends Max and Gracia did the 800k of the Camino Frances in three stages over three years. The most popular pilgrimage is from Sarria to Santiago and at 113 k can easily be accomplished in a week. I know some of you reading this now are feeling a bit tempted. Go with it. You won't regret it. Trust me, I'm a doctor.

Santiago

The rain forecast for our final stage into Santiago de Compostella was impatient with our schedule and instead fell while we slept. Like kids at Christmas we were up early and had already eaten breakfast when we started walking in the dark at 7:40. Our small lights kept us out of the mud puddles along the forest road. The day was overcast and gray but it never rained until we had arrived at our destination.

The guidebook calls this an uninspiring 12 mile stage until you reach the old city. I always love the old section of a European city. The narrow and winding cobbled streets laid out hundreds of years before cars speak to me. This was the shortest of our 27 stages. Shortly after lunch we stood in the middle of the Praza de Obradoiro at kilometer marker 0. There were a smattering of pilgrims scattered about the square taking pictures. Some were just sitting on the ground and others on the surrounding benches. Some were laughing and others crying. We saw none of our friends yet and that felt a little unsettling. Just then the three amigos from Mallorca arrived. We congratulated them and snapped a few pics before we were chased from the square in a light rain.

Our to do list was long and we weren't certain where to begin. First to shed the mochillas (backpacks) at the Hotel Montenegro (thanks Liz). The room wasn't ready but that was fine since we weren't ready for it. We returned to the Cathedral and went inside to check off a few items. I investigated the botafumeiro which really is amazing. It is a 52 kilogram incense holder that swings across the transepts. It is the only one in Spain. More about that later. We also visited the remains of the apostle James who is the reason for the Camino de Santiago. Then we made our way up well-worn granite steps and hugged the statue of Saint James from behind. This is the statue that looks down on the altar. It is a thin place, but more on thin places later. When we came out we found clusters of our peregrinos! First we ran into Fritz (Iowa), Ellen (Germany), and Augustine (Poland). We hugged and laughed in the sun but Ellen was pushing on to the coast, having attended the daily pilgrim's mass at noon. We were planning on the Friday 7:30 mass, as were most of our friends. This mass, along with holy days, is when the botafumeiro swings! We were not going to miss that. It seems impossible to me that we could plan on attending this mass 27 days ago when we were 800 kilometers away and actually arrive on time. That's Amy's doing. I just walked.  We returned to the main square and could see three ladies in pink! These were our friends from Malaga, Anna, Natalia and Marina. They were leaving the other side of the square and Amy sprinted to head them off. We exchanged besos and they were very happy to see us. They had a present for us. Natalia dug into the pack still on Marina's back and pulled out a folder. The folder was pink of course and inside was an 8x11 selfie that we had all taken on the Camino. Oh, and a lollipop. How they did this I have no idea but it is just awesome.

More friends were gathered at ground zero. There was Ted (Vancouver), Marek (Czech Republic), Mark (Denmark), Chris (London) and Stephanie (Germany). We hugged and laughed and took pictures. Everyone was so happy. A true happiness within that had been building up over many kilometers and was now bubbling over. Everyone was being pulled in different directions, and our direction was to the Office of the Peregrinos. There we received our Compostelas, the official certificate of competition. They are definitely suitable for framing. Our names are inscribed in Latin. 

Next we traversed the square back to a tapas street. Clare was getting hungry. Although there were more than 20 restaurants in 100 yards we found it difficult to settle on one. We finally walked into one and although we could order food there was no one else there and it didn't have what Clare was looking for. We did have the baby scallop plate and it was quite good. They were broiled and sitting on their shells. The same shells that have permeated our Way for the past month. It seemed fitting, although like an unintentional pun, we did not order those in keeping with a theme. We devoured the scallops and then moved a few doors down. This next restaurant had more people and more food. I was thrown off when the menu of the day was not yet available. Now I was feeling like I wanted our hotel room and a shower more than food. I ate a bit and then Amy sent me to my room. She and Clare would do a little shopping. I had checked in and showered when they returned bearing gifts but even better news. While shopping they ran into Max and Gracia in the square! We hadn't seen them in two days and Amy and Clare caught them just as they arrived! Amy has intuition, and she uses it. Anyway, tapas hopping was planned for after mass.

We arrived at the Cathedral just before 7 for the 7:30 mass. The botafumeiro swings across the transepts, so that is the best seating and the northern transept is reserved for pilgrims. The pews were nearly filled to around row 15 but a few seats were open in the first row and we squeezed in. Prime viewing. Before the mass started a guard made an announcement in Spanish and English. Tourists should leave while mass was in session and NO photography or mobile phones were allowed during the mass. He seemed quite firm on this point. A nun led the songs from the altar and her voice was perfecto for a large Cathedral. After communion the area in front of our pew became active with robed men who would swing the incense. A few children were allowed to sit on the floor in front of the first row and as soon as the ropes were disengaged from the resting hook and the botafumeiro began to move hundreds of cameras and mobile phones popped out. This was after communion but before dismissal so it was a bit of a gray area but I'm assuming that most felt the mass was over at this point. If it wasn't there is always confession. Watching this whole process is really something special. The bota starts out slowly with a pronounced up and down bob, but working in a coordinated unison it begins to develop its arc. At it's pinnacle it nearly touches the ceiling. Like Christmas trees across the world I'm sure it has left a few marks on the ceiling. The botafumeiro is supposed to help carry our prayers to heaven but the real reason for this unique tradition I believe is more practical. Why do you think this practice arose in the terminal Cathedral of Spain's largest pilgrimage? Pilgrim fumigation of course. That's why the peregrinos sit directly beneath!

After mass Amy and I stepped outside the northern transept to see if Max and Gracia were waiting. They were not but once outside the door there was no going back inside. Now we had to make our way around a very large Cathedral. On our way we reconnected with Georgie, the very fast Italian who we had dined with in Ventosa 2 weeks earlier. He was now with his son Alessandro who surprised Georgie at his finish in Santiago and then hiked with him on to Finistere and Muxia. They returned to Santiago for this Friday mass. We also saw Jason from Virginia who we hadn't seen in days. We heard he might have a broken foot but here he was. Limping a bit but still smiling. Gracia had supplied Jason with anti inflammatory medicine 10k from the finish. When we made it around to the southern entrance we found Clare, Max and Gracia. We were in for an evening.

They led us to the busiest tapas street in Santiago. The tapas in this region are almost all seafood. They said they only go into the busiest places. We would not know how to operate in that kind of chaos but Max and Gracia did. No matter how busy the place was, Max had a bottle of Albariño wine and five glasses, often before we even had a place to stand. Then a small space would open and we would fill it. Coats were hung on hooks under the counter. Plates of tapas were prepared and presented before us. Max would just ask for a sampling of the specialties of the house. Everything was delicious. We had pimientos stuffed with tuna with an anchovy on top, deep fried whole mini squids (chiparones) with squid ink dipping sauce, barely seared tuna, grilled octopus (pulpo a la plancha) and finally razor clams (navajas). The razor clams were outstanding and made me question why we had thrown so many back into the bay during our years of clamming. Whenever you order a drink in Spain you will receive some food. If you are drinking beer or wine you will have something savory. If it is coffee then you will get something sweet. As we moved from place to place we saw many other peregrinos that we knew. It was a blast. At midnight we were in a tapas bar finishing our wine, and the lights dimmed and the music changed. We had been hearing nondescript background music but now the volume increased and the music said party. Gracia said now is the signal for no more eating or drinking wine. Now you drink liquor, but we were done. It was past our bedtime. They walked us back to our hotel and we thanked them for a most memorable night. If you ever have the chance to go tapas hopping with a Spaniard, do it!

I plan to write more about thin places and our time on the Way and in Santiago perhaps tomorrow in the airport. Now we head to Madrid and tomorrow for my birthday we fly home! We can't wait to see Patrick and Abbey and all our friends!!

Penultimate Albergue

Have you heard the one about the American who walks into a bar? It turns out to be Erin Mosher's brother! There was no breakfast at our albergue this morning but we were excited to see the door open on the small café/bar across the street. Amy, Clare and I were sitting at the only table in the café having coffee, juice and croissants when a man walked in to have breakfast. He sat at the bar. He overheard us talking and asked where we were from. We said NC and he replied, "Asheville?" Turns out he is Erin Mosher's brother, Michael! What a small world after all. We finished breakfast and got on the Way. Our paths crossed several other times that day. He said that Greg had told him to look out for a family from Asheville just a few days ago. What are the chances that we would actually connect. Things like that happen along the Way.

At our second coffee stop we ran into Michael again. He had moved onto vino tinto. We met Petra from Holland who has been walking since July. She started walking in Brugge, Belgium. Each time she contemplated finishing tomorrow she became teary eyed. I know how she feels but I don't completely know how she feels, not having walked for 4 1/2 months.

During this same stop team Pink rolled by and I raced to the door and shouted "Feliz Cumpleaños!" It is Natalia's birthday today. She is 27 years young. Clare ran out with her gift, a KitKat. Natalia loved it and besos ensued. Team pink has been traveling along with us for the past several days. It is a mother, daughter and her friend. They started in Sarria and will finish with us tomorrow. They have pink coats, pink backpacks and pink baselayers. They have matching shoes and matching smiles. Every time we see them, they brighten our day. They live in Malaga in the south of España. Each year they take a trip together. This year it is the Camino.

Our pace is slowing and we only covered around 20k today. We were into our sleep town of Pedrouzo by 2:30 and now have less than 20k to Santiago tomorrow. We are in a 96 bed albergue tonight and many of our Camino friends are here. There are a few others not accounted for but I suspect we will all come together in Santiago tomorrow.

I don't want it to end but I desperately want to see Patrick and Abbey, so it must, and it will. We are currently sitting before a plate of jamón Iberico, semi-curado cheese and sliced fresh bread. We have a €3 bottle of Ribera del Duero that is unbelievably superb. I am going to miss this simplicity but not yet. We have one more day tomorrow. We walk into Santiago tomorrow likely beneath clouds. We might get wet. Possibly from rain. Possibly from tears.