Editor’s note: Rick McKay, Joe Masonick, and Jack Karolewski, have been travel companions for more than 50 years to a variety of sites with many goals. This week’s adventure is the 23rd in the series, a 14-day hike in 2005 across northern Spain’s intriguing Camino de Santiago, known as the Way of Santiago, for a religious retreat and pilgrimage. Visiting various villages on the journey requires continual hiking and climbing. This week continues Day 8 on the journey, Vega del Valcarce to O Cebriero, Friday, Sept. 23, 2005.
The previous article is at thevoice.us/joy-and-pain-set-in-spain
By Rick McKay
Day 8: O Cebriero to Triacastela, Friday, Sept. 23, 2005
Meditation of the Day: Simplicity;
One thing I am learning to like more about this trip is its simplicity. The routine is simple: get up before sunrise, wash up, reassemble one’s pack—a process that in itself becomes more economical with each doing, have a slice of toast with butter and a cafe con leche, and walk. At day’s end find an albergue, arrange one’s personal area, shower, tend to one’s injuries or irritations, journal, have dinner, and go to bed. Next day repeat the same.
One’s supplies are simple: Two changes of clothing, toiletries, meds, and first aid accessories, a sleeping bag, pad, and pillow, rain gear, hat and gloves, sun glasses and reading glasses, journal, and boots, or hiking shoes.
There is a sense of freedom, knowing you are carrying on your back just about all you need to survive.
Last night shortly before sunset, I sat on the hill with the wooden cross, gazing toward the mountains in the east, thinking about all that I had experienced, thus far. The wind blustered occasionally, shaking the yellow and lavender alpine blossoms that covered much of the hilltop. It was a chill wind and shortly thereafter, I went down to join Joe and Jack for dinner.
Got up this morning well before dawn, the stars and constellations brilliant in the sky, having revolved one-quarter turn since I stared up at them the prior night.
After our standard breakfast, hues of red and pink began to glow behind the eastern hills, and the sky had lightened enough that we didn’t require our head-lamps to see the way.
Today’s journey was relatively uneventful, with a few steep ascents followed by one very long continuous downhill (1,200 feet) into Triacastela. However, there was one interesting incident. When we were resting next to a stone wall in a small village, having removed shoes and socks to let the puppies breathe, a dutch-door in a barn-like structure down and to the left of us swung open and a cacophony of cowbells announced, “time to pasture!” One, three, seven, then 10 cows stumbled out onto the cobblestone street and turned in our direction, clopping up the slight incline directly toward us. We were sitting in plastic chairs against a low wall and recoiled at their approach, although we were frenetically searching for our cameras to capture the surprise exodus. After a sudden burst, the cows slowed, several stopped and turned their heads to within a foot of our faces in curiosity at these strangers in their path. However, the cowherd was close behind with a stick in hand, and in a few seconds they were turned onto a side street and gone.
We spend the night here in Triacastela, which gets its name from three castles which at one time surrounded this small town, all of which are now completely gone.
—Continued at thevoice.us/surprises-in-the-air-spectacle-of-beauty-in-spains-countryside