babartlett

Today was supposed to be 23 km, but my watch told me it was close to 26. Another long day, but, oh my, the Aubrac plateau is as breathtakingly beautiful as everyone who has gone before me reported. It was the first day of walking in rain. Rain was predicted for most of the day, with severe thunderstorms starting after noon. Instead, we had lovely, cool rain off and on this morning, then it got sunny with occasional clouds this afternoon. I didn’t mind walking in the rain, especially once I figured out how to mostly cover my daypack with the shopping bag I’d been keeping my food in.

Interesting conversation with a man I walked with for a short while. He commented on the fact that I wasn’t wearing my skirt today. I am quite famous for that long hiking skirt. He said his father did what I did, was an evangelical pastor, and when he turned 20 he left that church and found the Reformed church. Then he said, “Ah, it was freedom. Evangelical church has so many rules, and they think they have all the answers. If you don’t agree with them, they say, ‘it’s in the Bible’ and you are wrong and they are always right.” Yes. Us Reformed types don’t always get it right, but if you think you have all the answers, then I’m not sure that’s what faith is all about. Especially if your answers are from cherry-picked Bible verses that don’t take into account context or history or the fact that human beings and cultures change. It was nice to hear someone’s story about finding freedom in the Reformed tradition rather than just leaving church all together.

As was the case yesterday, WCs were hard to find! I hope they aren’t as sparse going forward. There was a gite that had a cafe at about 10km so I welcomed the chance to stop for 20 minutes, enjoy a cafe au lait and slice of apple cake, take my shoes and socks off and put my feet up. It feels SO good to let your feet breathe every 10 km or so! I headed off again across a very wild and isolated part of the plateau—most of the time walking on a narrow path between fences. Aubrac cattle are famous. And beautiful. And plentiful along this path. There was one short stretch between fenced in areas, where you had to climb stiles, and you were walking right among the cows. I only saw one bull all day, and he was safely fenced in, and could care less that humans were walking by.

Near the end of the day I heard a chittering noise and looked back and two stoats were having a furious game of chase across the field. They were SO cute! They didn’t seem to notice me and ran closer and closer, all of sudden realized I was there, stopped, scampered into the rock wall, then poked their heads out the other side to check me out. I got my camera out and tried to film them but they scampered away too quickly. I wish I had captured that for you. It was also a great day for hawk watching. It was windy up there, and they would flap and stay in one place in the air, like treading water, scouting for food I think, then take off. You could hear their calls all day. It was a magical walk.

When I got to the gite where I am staying, Maison Rosalie in Montgros, he handed me a key and told me where my room was. I thought, “a key?” No one has given me a key to a dormitory room before. And when I opened the door it was a single. I had forgotten that when I booked this back in May she had responded that she had a single available, and I took it. It is HEAVEN to have my own room!!! I think that happens again in about a week. And I think I will have to treat myself as the walk goes on to my own room once a week or so.

After my stop for coffee and cake, there wasn’t anywhere else for lunch that I passed by, so I finally found a tree with a nice place to sit in its shade, sat on my raincoat and had my lunch of cheese, bread and some of that date loaf I told you about the other day. I’ll finish up the cheese tomorrow and will have to find more, or something else for picnics after that. That’s really all I need in the middle of the day. I would have thought I needed to eat a lot more as I walk, but I don’t. Just a couple of snacks and a light lunch, then I indulge in the dinners they serve us! After beef four nights in a row, it was nice to have a change this evening. Roasted pork. I have worked so hard to get my cholesterol down over the last few months, and had almost completely cut out beef and pork! But you have to eat what you are served, and I am going to enjoy it and get back to my regular healthier eating habits when I’m home. I thought I would catch you up on yesterday as well, but I realized that if I am always going back to play catch up, I may never get to the day at hand. So I’ll share some photos from today, and if I still have energy, a few from yesterday.

And I wanted to let those of you who are commenting on my posts know how much I appreciate your comments and the fact that you are following along. I may not get to respond to them all, but I think I am seeing them all, and I am grateful. Here are some photos from this spectacular day.

Yes, it was as delicious as it looks. That’s feta wrapped in phyllo on top of the carrot salad, rice with vegetables and roasted pork, and the dessert—pear, chocolate and almond. It was divine. I ate every bite.

Okay, since I don’t have roommates tonight who are all trying to sleep by now I will share a few photos from yesterday. But only a few, I need to get to sleep myself!

Morning mist and rosy sky outside Le Domaine Sauvage yesterday morning.

Le Domaine Sauvage to Aumont-Aubrac. I made it. 29 km. It was supposed to be 28, but I got turned around and walked 1/2 k out of the way, and then had to walk back. Got to the Ferme Du Barry gite with just enough time to shower and wash today’s clothes before dinner. What ever possessed me to think I could handle 28 km on day 5???? I don’t think there is anything hurting that won’t recover with Advil and a night’s sleep. But I don’t have time or energy to tell you much about today. As all days, it was spectacular. Here’s a photo.

And, good night!

An interlude: news from home. My daughter sent me photo last night saying, “post this on your blog, Mom.” It was a photo labeled “Family Dinner” with her and several friends. Getting a photo that I can share, and seeing the smile on her face is the best gift a Mom could get from her 18 year old who just started college. So here it is:

Now for Day 4: My longest day yet, 20 k (14 miles on my Apple Watch). I thought it was going to be a relatively flat day, since we were walking across the Margeride Plateau, but I was surprised by the long uphill walk out of Saugues, and another long uphill walk through the woods before arriving at Le Domaine Sauvage. They weren’t the steep climb of yesterday, but fairly long uphills none the less. But I made it! My feet and legs are sore, but so far I remain blister-free, thanks to Injinji toe sock liners under Darn Tough socks. Best investment in socks I ever made.

This area is known as the Gevaudan and remains very sparsely populated. Centuries ago it was known for beasts and brigands. It was easy to imagine both as I walked through the forest alone! I just happened to be in-between walkers and had the forest to myself. The Beast of Gevaudan is one of the symbols/mascots of this area. From 1764-68 the beast terrorized the area, killing about 60 peasants. Maybe it was a super-wolf or a lynx—the images of it that you see all over the area look like a big, bad wolf from the fairytales. A peasant finally killed it and took the carcass to the king as proof.

Domaine le Sauvage, where I am staying tonight, is an isolated gite, in the middle of this high plateau surrounded by forest. It is quite famous and a popular stop along the Chemin Le Puy. It is centuries old and has gone through various incarnations and owners, but has been a refuge for pilgrims off and on. It is also associated with the Knights Templar—one of their headquarters as they provided protection for the region. When I came out of the forest, finally on a flat path, I could see it more than a mile in the distance. Such a welcome sight! As it must have been for pilgrims centuries ago.

After taking care of the daily chores upon arrival: showering, washing and hanging out clothes, the most refreshing thing of the day is cold beer. I normally drink very little, but under these circumstances a beer is the best taste in the world.

I keep thinking I should be having profound spiritual insights. Isn’t that what a pilgrimage is all about? But actually, what seems to be happening is just emptying my mind out. During the day, I am mostly just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, then pausing every once in a while to soak in the beauty I am walking through. It is fun to pass other pilgrims I have stayed with along the path. There is a couple walking with their dog, Sonny. We stayed at the same gite last night. And there a lot of other familiar faces. And a farewell meeting with my roommate from last night who I probably won’t see again. She stopped about 8 km before I did today, and is only walking until Friday. It was fun to see her one last time as I passed her gite and she was outside enjoying a drink. I am not getting as familiar with other pilgrims as I would if I spoke French. I did meet up with a couple from Colorado today, and we are staying in the same place tonight. I don’t expect people to speak English when I am in France, but it is nice to meet up with Americans and Australians now and then and be able to have a conversation in a language in which we are both fluent!

So, no great spiritual revelations. I’m not sure there will be any. But emptying my head of the stress and worry that has filled the last six years since the former guy was elected, and all the transitions we have been through at church, and COVID, is very welcome. I know the outside world is still there. I am checking the headlines every day or so, and keeping up with Heather Cox Richardson’s posts—I figure that’s probably giving me most of what I need to know. I know there are still shootings happening every day in the US. I know the war in Ukraine and the fear over the nuclear plant is still there (thought I haven’t read the latest on that), but I am enjoying the luxury of escaping that for the most part. I wish everyone could have this experience of entering a different world, where your only task is to walk every day, where you are met with hospitality both on the path and off it and at the end of the day when you arrive at your destination, where you just have to put one foot in front of the other and you realize that it is possible for people to exist in peace, to support and encourage and greet one another as fellow human beings along the same path. I guess that’s my profundity for the day. Now let’s see if I can get some photos to upload.

I am starting to lose track of time, but my trusty Apple Watch has just confirmed that it is indeed August 30. Or 30 August if you are in Europe.

Interesting conversation last night with three younger people who knew just enough English for us to talk a bit. First we talked about New York City, which one of them had been to. We agreed that the food is too expensive but it is a crazy, amazing city. Then they asked if I had ever been to France before, and I told them twice, to Paris, but this was my first time outside of Paris. They said, “Paris is not France.” And I replied “just like NYC is not the United States!” They agreed. I am so glad that I am seeing a good portion of the “real France” at a walker’s pace.

I thought the climb out of Le Puy was a workout, and it was, but it was just a warm up for today’s climb out of Monistrol d’Allier. Oh my word. It took me 2 and a quarter hours of intense climbing. And lots of pauses. Looking at the elevation chart, it goes from just over 600 meters to over 1100 meters in 5 k. The line going up on that chart is pretty steep! I’m really glad I didn’t have to go down it. I had enough of that yesterday! Once it finally leveled off, the walk was across a relatively flat (gently undulating) plain. It continues to be spectacularly beautiful.

The climb this morning was only one of today’s challenges, the other was of a completely different sort: the two-week motorcycle race followed me from Le Puy to Saugues. The cross country part of the race was set up adjacent to the Chemin path. And they shared the same path for a short distance as the path broadened to meet and cross the main road. I almost got hit by one as it turned off the main road onto the path, and once I got into the town itself, you had to be very careful crossing the roads as they roared by. I sure hope I get out of this tournament’s path soon!

Our host tonight, Jesus (I think originally he is from Spain) asked if I was a sister when I arrived. Another woman, my roommate tonight who was at the same Gites I was the first night, had arrived shortly before I did, and she said, “no, she is not a sister, she is a Protestnat minister. There will be no flying under the radar on this walk. So Jesus immediately said that I would give the benediction (blessing) at dinner. So I did. In English, very slowly (at their request) to an all French-speaking group. Jesus prepared a feast, as most hosts here do: a lovely carrot and veg soup, followed by a heaping plate of noodles and beef bourguignon, followed by salad and cheese, followed by pudding, and bread and wine. Too much food! Delicious, but too much. It feels like it would be very rude to refuse it and not finish what’s on your plate. Everybody eats it all. I guess I am fueled up for my 20 k day tomorrow. My longest yet, but no significant ascents or descents so it should be okay. They say after about three days you get your Camino legs. That makes it sound like they are delivered to you by an angel, or Santa Claus. I’ll let you know if mine arrive tomorrow. I have a feeling mine might be delayed by a day or two.

I was going to try and share some photos from the end of the day yesterday, but once again it is taking too long for them to upload, so I’ll try to share just a few from today.

Knowing your limits is very important in learning to walk (learning, to live, too). I realized yesterday that I could not continue to carry my pack. I made it, but I think it was the most physically taxing day of my life!

But back to the beginning of yesterday—which feels like a very long time ago now! I made it to the 7 am Pilgrim’s mass at the Cathedral at 7:15. Which is okay, because it’s all in French so I have to just do my own praying and meditating anyway—until something comes along that I recognize, like the Apostles’ Creed or the Sanctus or the Lord’s Prayer, then I join in in English. I always struggle with whether or not to go up for communion when I am in an RC church. I know I’m not supposed to. I know I’m not welcome to partake in the RC church. The theology is very different, but I really struggle with this. Sometimes I end up taking communion to make a statement—even if I’m the only that knows I’m making it. And that’s not really a good reason to take communion. I always find myself saying, “but this is for me, too. It’s for all of us.” I usually take communion when I am with our Italian family in Italy, because Elena makes a point of saying, “you can go, too, Beverly.” And if it feels like a fairly open service and open-minded priest, I will go up. But yesterday was not the case. They made a point of inviting ONLY those who are Roman Catholic and go to mass weekly. Anyone else could come up for a blessing if they wanted to. Nope. If I’m not welcome at your table, I don’t really want your blessing. Ouch. That was harsh, but that’s what came to my mind. When we do the invitation in the Presbyterian Church, we often say, “this is not our table, but Christ’s table and all are welcome.” Well, yesterday, they made it very clear that though they may think it is Christ’s table, it is really their table because not everyone is welcome. Enough of that. After the service I went to get my compostella (stamp) from a lovely sister, who sounded Irish. She had been in West or East Orange with her order before coming to Le Puy to serve there just a very short while ago. As far as I’m concerned if there’s anything that can pull the RC church into a more liberated, inclusive, accepting era it will be the sisters.

Speaking of which, here is a funny story from today (a slight diversion from yesterday). There have been blackberry bushes along the way, which provide for a delightful snack. As I had stopped to pick a few this morning, there was another walker doing the same. We said hello, and he asked me, “are you a sister?” Meaning , a nun. “No” I replied. “Oh, people are saying you are a sister walking the Camino because you wear this,” pointing to my long Macabi hiking skirt. “And because you stopped at the cross and crossed yourself.” Did I? Perhaps. I have been stopping at a lot of the crosses that mark the way, and once in a blue moon that seems like the appropriate thing to do. I guess my long skirt and my long-sleeved sun protection makes me look like a nun. I am definitely not winning ANY style points. But Macabi skirts are so comfortable to walk/hike in, and they are full of the most useful pockets. We continued talking and I told him I was not Catholic but Protestant and a Presbyterian Minister. I hadn’t planned on announcing that, but it came into the conversation naturally. He said “I am Protestant, too, but not Presbyterian. You are Calvinist right?” I said, “of a sort. That was certainly our roots.” As we parted ways he said, “you may not be a sister, but you are my sister,” which was very sweet. In the reading I have done, it is clear that there is an active news network/grapevine among pilgrims. I have named it Chemin News Network (CNN), and in Spain it will become Camino News Network. I think it’s funny that after just one day of walking, the word was spreading that I was a sister walking the Camino.

Back to yesterday and learning my limits. I realized that in order to continue I was going to have to send my pack ahead with the transport company. Anne, the wonderful host at last night’s gite helped me make arrangements for my pack to be transported for the next five days. I’ll decide if I want to try again at that point. I am SO glad I did that. It made all the difference in the world just to be walking with my day pack today. Leaving Le Puy yesterday was a long, uphill slog. There were a few sections of lovely shaded forest paths, but for the most part there was no shade at all and the sun was HOT. But I made it. Almost collapsed upon arrival but a shower revived me some, did my laundry had an amazing dinner: another incredible salad that could have been a meal in itself, but was followed by sausage and lentils, a rice pilaf with lots of veggies, and an assortment of homemade cakes and tarts, and home made bread. This area is famous for its lentils. When you buy French lentils, this is probably where they come from. They melt in your mouth. I slept very well last night.

Started walking about 8:15 this morning. It was a spectacularly beautiful, but grueling walk. I’m addition to it being very hot—upper 80s—there were three very steep descents, one was a narrow path full of rocks, and the last on dirt, which was even worse because it was so steep your feet kept sliding on the dirt. But I did it. I didn’t fall and my knees are okay. Thank God for hiking poles and physical therapy to strengthen my knees. It wasn’t elegant, but it was an accomplishment.

I am now enjoying a post-shower, post-laundry, pre-dinner beer and battling a thousand flies. At least they are not mosquitos.

I have not had any desire to “plug in” to my earphones to listen to music or a podcast or a book. Just walking, and staying on my feet on the hard parts, and enjoying the beauty when I stop to look around is enough. And walking all day is a great opportunity to pray for people who have asked for prayers.

As I was going to sleep last night I thought, ‘why am I doing this? Do I really want to walk all the way to Santiago de Compostela?” But when I woke up this morning, I was ready to go. It was so beautiful when I started out, and I was eager to walk Not sure what tomorrow brings—other than a very long uphill climb to get out of Monistrol d’Alliers. It was a long hike down, and what goes down must come up. But at least I’ll just be carrying my day pack. As of this morning the forecast was for two days of rain starting tomorrow. That will be another adventure if it comes true.

On the verge! A Day in Le Puy

I slept SO well last night and was the last one awake in the room this morning. Hope I was not serenading everyone with snores as they got ready for the day. Ear plugs are a wonderful thing. They just muffle the noise enough so you feel like you’re in a cocoon. Last night I stayed out late enough to watch some of the light show they do every evening on the famous buildings and monuments. I only saw two—the projections on the Cathedral and on the old hotel in the square where I had dinner. The problem with staying to watch the light show is that by the time I got back to the room, a little before ten, everyone else was in bed with the lights out. I managed to get myself ready with only the light of my phone as quietly as I could. Tonight, I hope to be one of the ones asleep when others come in. Pilgrim mass is at 7 am, then I’m on my way!

This morning I began the day by going to the weekly market. So much fun! Bought some local goat cheese, home made bread, fruit and olives for lunch. Then I climbed up the volcanic spire atop of which is the Chapel of St. Michel. It was built in 961 by Gothescalk, bishop of Le Puy, who resolved to build it after making what is thought to be the first pilgrimage from Le Puy to Santiago de Compostela. Lots of deep breaths on the climb—not just because of the stairs, but because you are walking up the side of the cliff! There is a wall between you and a fall, but it’s a challenge when you are afraid of heights. The other most famous site on top of one of Le Puy’s volcanic spikes is Notre Dame de France, erected in the year 1860 with the metal of 213 cannons captured from the Russians in the Crimean War. Yes, I copied that bit straight out of the tourist brochure. I wonder how long fighting over Crimea will go on? I decided I did not need to climb up. I mean, the view of the statue has to be better from a distance, right?

This day in Le Puy was a good warm up for tomorrow’s steady uphill slog to Montbonnet. It’s just 15 km (about 10 miles), but uphill a good bit of the way. Walking around Le Puy, especially walking up to the Cathedral involves lots of climbing. I don’t know if you can tell from my photos just how steep the road is up to the Cathedral, and then there are the steps to get into the Cathedral itself. I didn’t think to count, but there must be well over a hundred. I found myself wondering how many people would make it to church on Sunday at Madison Ave. Presbyterian if they had to climb that hill and those steps in order to get there! There are racing teams all over town. I don’t know what’s going on. As I came down from the Cathedral this evening, one team was pushing a teammate who uses a wheelchair all the way up that cobble-stoned hill. They seemed to be having a great time of it, laughing and cheering all the way. They have been parading by the square where I am eating dinner. It’s like the Olympics with country after country going by. I heard someone say “motorcycle” so maybe it’s an international motorcycle race? (Yes, I looked it up—a big race that lasts for days.) I’m glad I made my reservations for this weekend in May! Whatever it is, the swallows or swifts (not sure what they are) are NOT happy about this commotion. They are trying to go to bed for the night and are frantically circling and swooping and crying out overhead. Poor babies. They are clearly alarmed.

This evening I had planned to go to the Pilgrims’ welcome reception at a cafe behind the Cathedral that happens every day, at least during the summer. I had heard that this was a good place to meet other pilgrims, but it must be hit or miss. When I got there, the only people were the hosts, and one other person. I had a brief conversation with one of the hosts, then said farewell and went back into the Cathedral to head to dinner. I was a bit disappointed, but sometimes disappointments lead to a blessing. As I walked into the Cathedral I heard gorgeous choral singing. I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from, when all of a sudden a group of about a dozen young men wearing uniforms and carrying backpacks emerged up the stairs into the Cathedral singing. They stopped as soon as they got in front of the altar, and I was afraid I had missed most of it. But then they went to the higher altar where the Black Madonna is, and after kneeling in a row and praying for a few minutes they started singing again. It was gorgeous. I hope I’ll be able to post a video below so you can hear them. They looked like a group of scouts, so I called them “the singing scouts” in my head. One of them, a leader, was clearly a member of a religious order as he was wearing long robes. After they finished their sung and spoken prayers, they dispersed, and I went up to one of them, inquired if he spoke English (he did), and asked him who they were. He said, “We are scouts. We come from all over and we walk far. We are Catholic.” I asked, “Are you a choir?” He said “no, we just sing always.”

I’m having the exact same dinner I had last night. As I perused various menus walking around town, nothing looked as good or healthy as the salad I had last night. I did get adventurous and try a different glass of wine with it.

Lesson from today: Take some deep breaths and you can do just about anything. If one thing disappoints, there is probably something wonderful lying in wait. Oh, and “sing always.” I will probably need to keep those in mind as I walk tomorrow, and the day after and the day after . . .

A Nice Slow Start

I’m here! Arrived in Le Puy en Velay, the starting point for the Chemin de Puy/Via Podiensis late this afternoon after arriving in Paris this morning and taking three trains this afternoon. I almost missed my train from Paris because the woman giving information didn’t speak English, and my three years of French were 40 or more years ago (what????) When I asked her if this was my train she said, “no, next one.” But it WAS my train!! Glad I decided to follow what everyone else was doing and just get on the train.

I have had three hours of sleep and a few catnaps in the last two days, So a nice slow start is just what I need. I will spend two nights here, and have the day to explore Le Puy tomorrow before I start walking on Sunday. But the pilgrim way of life has begun: I am in a “dorm” with six beds, spaced about a foot apart, both men and women. I think my acting years are going to come in handy—well, the lesson of shedding modesty anyway. When you are doing off-off Broadway shows, often there is one crowded dressing room for everyone to change in, and in one show I had several quick costume changes that had to happen in the wings, the minute I came off stage, with someone helping me or I wouldn’t have made it back on stage in time. Getting comfortable with those circumstances is going to come in handy staying in tight quarters in mixed dorms! I sure hope the earplugs work! And like a good pilgrim I washed my clothes in the sink as soon as I had showered and they are hanging out to dry. I am praying it doesn’t rain.

Every time I come to Europe I am struck by just how old everything is compared to the U.S. This plaza I am sitting in for instance-looking at the buildings surrounding it, I imagine most of them are older than any structure in the US (well, structures that white European settlers/colonists built anyway). I believe people have been starting on pilgrimages from Le Puy en Velay for more than a thousand years, and looking at the buildings it feels like I am just stepping into the flow of all those who lived before us in this place. Conversations, in French mostly, are swirling around me. There won’t be many solitary dinners—most gites owners provide dinner—so I am enjoying this one. It is dusk so the light show should begin soon. It happens in the old part of the city and I am told it is not to be missed. My lack of sleep and glass of wine (wine is cheaper than water here) are about to put me out. Time to get up and walk around. I am so looking forward to tumbling into bed tonight, even with five strangers snoring and tossing and turning.

Buildings from where I sit. Love the variety of old shutters.

On the Way!

Maybe this post should be entitled “Learning when to walk away.” Like leaving your daughter at college and trusting that she’ll figure it out and their will be help when she needs it. Walking away from the “to do” list that was never going to be completely checked off. Walking away from worry over the clutter that didn’t get cleared, pets I’ll miss but who are in good hands, a congregation that will get along with out me. I’ll miss them, and I know they’ll miss me, but none one is indispensable and it will be exciting to see what they do while I’m away.

My pack is too heavy, even after staying up until 3:30 am figuring out what I could jettison. I really don’t know what else I can get rid of at this point, but I may figure that out quickly. I left behind my hiking boots and will rely on my trail runners. I jettisoned an entire set of clothing and bits and pieces here and there and managed to shed 3 pounds. But I still need to get rid of more.

I’m fatigued, excited and nervous all at the same time, which I guess is normal when embarking on an adventure like this. Thanks for all the support, well wishes and prayers. Next stop, Paris!

Getting Ready, August 19, 2022

Getting ready this week has not involved much walking. Well, not much walking in the Park with my pack anyway. In fact, no walking in the Park with my pack since Monday. This last week has just been too heavily scheduled, so my walking has been limited to walking to and from appointments and meetings. Today that meant three medical appointments and three errands. However, I did end up walking just over 6 miles with all those appointments and errands. And while I didn’t have my pack on and didn’t have any hills, there are going to be days that are all pavement, and many people say those are the most challenging. As a New Yorker, I am probably better prepared for those days than many people are!

Since I was not out in nature, your photos today are city street ones.

Getting Ready, August 15, 2022

I didn’t get out as planned for an early Sunday morning walk with my pack yesterday. And, really, I should know better, right? That I probably won’t get out early on a Sunday, or maybe at all on a Sunday? But I did get out today. I walked for an hour and twenty minutes with my pack. It will probably be 2-3 pounds heavier than it is at the moment, but it was fairly full. And you know what? I think I can do this.

For the first ten minutes I always find myself thinking, “What are you doing? You can’t walk 7-8 hours a day for two and half months? Your muscles already ache. And how can I possibly carry this pack that far, and up and down hills/mountains?” But then my muscles get warmed up, I hit my stride, and I realize I can do this. I know that pack is going to get heavy, but I was absolutely fine carrying it for an hour and twenty minutes. After the first ten minutes, it just starts to feel like an extension of your body. We’ll see if that’s still the case after several hours of walking.

I’ve decided that with the limited time I have left to get my body ready for this, I need to walk with my pack as much as I can. Up until now I’ve been thinking I need to get used to long distances without it first. But now I think I just need to focus on doing whatever I can every day with the pack.

And apart from a couple of days between now and the time I leave, I’m probably not going to have much more than an hour a day to walk. This week almost every minute is scheduled with personal things that have to get done before I leave for three months, medical appointments, getting Emily ready for college, and work. Another thing I am just going to have to accept is that not everything is going to get done. I think I could probably stay up around the clock for the next week and still not accomplish everything I had hoped to do.

Back in my Vermont days, when I sang with the Pumpkin Hill Singers, we used to sing a round when we messed up big in rehearsal: “Oh well, what the hell, diddly, diddly, diddly, diddly, Oh well, what the hell, diddly, diddly do.” I’ve been finding myself singing that a lot lately. When the St. Patrick’s Breastplate ear worm is not in my head, that is. I recommend it. The round, not the ear worm. It helps you not take yourself too seriously. Of course, you’ll have to make the tune up yourself since I can’t sing it for you.