I knew today would be hard. But I also knew I could get through it. It was harder than expected in some ways, and not as hard in others.
I knew it would be hard because:
*it is only my second day carrying a 20 pound pack, not enough time to be used to it yet.
*but, being the second day, I began with muscles that were already sore and stiff, and a blister from the day before.
*it was the longest planned hike of this round….15 miles.
*the weather forecast predicted 101 degrees
Most people at my albergue last night had planned to stop at a town just past the halfway mark and finish the trek to Castro Urdiales in 2 days instead of one…mostly due to length, rated difficulty, and the heat. But me, I decided to stick to my plan, knowing it would end in an exercise in misery and endurance.
The day started well, I left at 7:15 am and it was already warmish. I made sure to have my hat ready and lots of water. Then…it wasn’t so bad. The path was shady and there was a nice breeze. I sweated, but it worked exactly like it is designed, built in air conditioning ( thanks to low humidity).
The first major town on the hike (and where most planned to stop) was at 11k (7ish miles). I was still feeling pretty good at this point. I sat in the shade outside a cafe overlooking the beach and had a coffee and sparkling water while I chatted with other pilgrims. They were all stopping for the day….and amazed that I planned to continue. I felt proud of myself, which is a rare feeling for me. It felt good.
When I got up….things were hurting. I hobbled a bit, others looked on in shock. I could hear them thinking, “is she really going to keep going like that?!?” I replied (in my head of course), “hells yeah bitches! Bring it!”
The next town was in another 5.5k (onton), it is also the town where you have to go the right way for the shortcut (which cuts a would be 21 mile hike down to a mere 15). About halfway there, I could no longer ignore the developing problem…blisters on my left foot. That pinkie toe had grown again and I could feel the pressure in my boot growing along with increasing pain. I also felt the hot spot developing on the ball of my foot, probably from my limping causing more rubbing in my shoe. My back and legs were hurting too….But the foot was the killer.The limping got progressively worse. I decided to get to Onton and find a spot to rest a bit before continuing.
I went through Onton but no place to rest…I made sure to take the shortcut turn and headed on up the hill. The limping was getting bad, the pain was hard to ignore. It was also noon, getting very hot, and there was no more shade.Then I saw an old bus stop shade structure…old and covered in graffiti. Looked like heavenly paradise to me!! A shady place to sit and rest. I sat, I drank water, I had a snack, and I made a mistake. I took off my boots. My feet were so hot, they hurt, they were wet….I wanted to let them dry and cool off. It felt great! I saw the toe blister and almost couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was so bad.
Why was it a mistake to take off the shoes? Because I had to put them back on. It hurt, it hurt bad. When I stood up I actually screamed from the pain in my left foot. And I still had 9k left to walk! In the heat, with no shade, along the side of a road with little room.
I fell into a pain riddled limp-rhythm, and held onto that for the next 2 hours. Sweat dripped down my legs, dripped off my elbows and down my face. Hot asphalt radiated heat from below while the sun beat down. I hobbled along, looking like I really shouldn’t be there doing what I was doing. People drove by in air conditioned cars and sometimes I caught glimpses of their shock and horror at seeing me….hobble-limping down the road, dripping in sweat, carrying a big heavy pack in the midday sun.
At one point I found myself at a beach again, and glory hallelujah there was a beach bar. I got 2 bottles of cold sparkling water and dropped my pack. Then I got a beer-lemonade (radler)…maybe it would help with the pain.
I checked my guides and came to realize the turn I followed near the beach is an unofficial route, maybe not well marked, somewhat an unknown. Crap….in my condition I could not afford anything going wrong on this route but I also couldn’t bear the thought of backtracking. So, forward I went, praying it would work out ok. The one high point is that I was down to about 3k left!!! The torture was almost over.
The path I took was fine. After a hard trek back up to the bluffs, it went along for a bit and then the edges of the town appeared…new development. There were no markers but it was kind of obvious which way to go…towards town, towards the beach. Once in the town area, people tried not to stare. I felt like a circus freak sideshow….hobbling like the hunchback of Notre Dame, there was possibly even some occasional grunting and moaning. Every step was excruciating, every part of my body from the waist down was on fire.
I realized I was close enough it was time to switch from finding the Camino to locating where I was staying for the night. I put it in google….1.5k left, 20 minutes. Well, Google got the time wrong but there’s no setting in Google for “hobble like a hunchback”.
But I did get there, eventually.
Funny, at the end I hobbled past happy beachgoers carting chairs and towels and coolers. They gave me “what the hell is that?” side-eye.
And I had the thought….”This is them on vacation….this is me on vacation….what is wrong with this picture?”
Photos from today: (beware last photo is of toe blister and kinda gross, also pic doesn’t do it justice!)
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