Unloading

Pioneers traveled in mass to settle the western United States. The concept of free land and a new life was appealing to the men, and I am sure many courageous women who looked forward to the adventure of traveling so far to build a new home.

Yet, I gather most pioneer women were not excited to exchange the comforts of their homes for the rough and dusty roads of the Oregon Trail.  These women, obedient to their husbands but reluctant to go tearfully gave away cherished belongings and then packed a few comforts and reminders of home.  Special linens, crystal, silver and the family bible were brought along...only to be left at the side of the trail when the oxen became too tired to carry the load.

Carrying weight a short distance is easy.   Carrying the weight over a thousand miles is wearing on the feet, the soul and shoe soles.  

So we unload...

Walking the way to St Jacques....Santiago de Compostelo...leaves plenty of time to think....we download the things of the city life. The noise goes out of our heads. There is all the time to think, and then there is no time to think. The brain fills with the rhythm of breathing, the clicking of poles, a tune in the head, 2 mysteries of the rosary. Thoughts go away.    We walk and 16 km is done.  

The weight of the pack bears down.  We start to drop things we don't need.  Reading materials go first. That deck of cards, game of dice. Clothes we don't wear, extra socks,  that pile of band aids unused toiletries, bottles of shampoo, tubes of lotion, sleeping mats,  sweaters, extra hats and gloves.  We leave  to the trail things we foolishly spent alot of money for, thin
king we would need. 

We unload on the Camino. The Camino absorbs all we unload. Material goods are gathered by other pilgrims. The rest...I believe by the Camino Angels/ The Camino has absorbed broken dreams, broken hearts, prayers, repentance, the trash of-our lives... for centuries.

Leslie unloaded a bike trailer, sleeping mat, tent, boots, shoes, a backpack, several layers of clothes. 

Some items she sent home.  Other items were used by pilgrims in need. Carol unloaded burdens she didn't know she carried, burdens discovered hidden deep in the miles of walk and talk.

On the Camino, what we can't part with can be sent ahead, but at a cost.  It will have to be dealt  with when we catch up to it. We put our names on envelopes that are attached to baggage. We insert the required amount. And wallah, it's gone. (Tucked away, stuffed)

 We send ahead weight we can't deal  with on today's path, extra weight that takes up room in our  mochillo.  Sending it ahead only temporarily removes that extra burden on the feet, the soles and the soul.

Unless we plan to carry it home, it will have to be left in the Camino to be absorbed by the  millions of footsteps,  and join with the broken hearts, broken dreams, prayers and repentance left over the years. Unload.

Unload.

When I knew it was time for me to leave the Camino unloaded some of my possessions.  My heart had already been unburdened. My rain poncho went to a woman and her elderly dad.  Knee brace to the new bride. Silk cocoon, flannel bag and towel to Leslie. Leuko tape to another injured pilgrim.

And I carried home with me some of Leslie's gear that was burdening her.

Unload.

Unloading

Pioneers traveled in mass to settle the western United States. The concept of free land and a new life was appealing to the men, and I am sure many courageous women who looked forward to the adventure of traveling so far to build a new home.

Yet, I gather most pioneer women were not excited to exchange the comforts of their homes for the rough and dusty roads of the Oregon Trail.  These women, obedient to their husbands but reluctant to go tearfully gave away cherished belongings and then packed a few comforts and reminders of home.  Special linens, crystal, silver and the family bible were brought along...only to be left at the side of the trail when the oxen became too tired to carry the load.

Carrying weight a short distance is easy.   Carrying the weight over a thousand miles is wearing on the feet, the soul and shoe soles.  

So we unload...

Walking the way to St Jacques....Santiago de Compostelo...leaves plenty of time to think....we download the things of the city life. The noise goes out of our heads. There is all the time to think, and then there is no time to think. The brain fills with the rhythm of breathing, the clicking of poles, a tune in the head, 2 mysteries of the rosary. Thoughts go away.    We walk and 16 km is done.  

The weight of the pack bears down.  We start to drop things we don't need.  Reading materials go first. That deck of cards, game of dice. Clothes we don't wear, extra socks,  that pile of band aids unused toiletries, bottles of shampoo, tubes of lotion, sleeping mats,  sweaters, extra hats and gloves.  We leave  to the trail things we foolishly spent alot of money for, thin
king we would need. 

We unload on the Camino. The Camino absorbs all we unload. Material goods are gathered by other pilgrims. The rest...I believe by the Camino Angels/ The Camino has absorbed broken dreams, broken hearts, prayers, repentance, the trash of-our lives... for centuries.

Leslie unloaded a bike trailer, sleeping mat, tent, boots, shoes, a backpack, several layers of clothes. 

Some items she sent home.  Other items were used by pilgrims in need. Carol unloaded burdens she didn't know she carried, burdens discovered hidden deep in the miles of walk and talk.

On the Camino, what we can't part with can be sent ahead, but at a cost.  It will have to be dealt  with when we catch up to it. We put our names on envelopes that are attached to baggage. We insert the required amount. And wallah, it's gone. (Tucked away, stuffed)

 We send ahead weight we can't deal  with on today's path, extra weight that takes up room in our  mochillo.  Sending it ahead only temporarily removes that extra burden on the feet, the soles and the soul.

Unless we plan to carry it home, it will have to be left in the Camino to be absorbed by the  millions of footsteps,  and join with the broken hearts, broken dreams, prayers and repentance left over the years. Unload.

Unload.

When I knew it was time for me to leave the Camino unloaded some of my possessions.  My heart had already been unburdened. My rain poncho went to a woman and her elderly dad.  Knee brace to the new bride. Silk cocoon, flannel bag and towel to Leslie. Leuko tape to another injured pilgrim.

And I carried home with me some of Leslie's gear that was burdening her.

Unload.

Warmth

Air temperature below 9.c.  Wind 35 km per hour, driving rain.  We wandered  into the town of Obistat  ready for hot toddies and a warm fire.  We enjoyed an omelet, salad and coffee at the only cafe open at the time, and decided to seek shelter here for the evening, instead of the community gite we had planned on.  We were lead down the street a few doors into a darkly wooded foyer with a wide banister end staircase that lead to nowhere. Our gite room had 3 beds and you could see through the floorboards to the room below. The walls had a satiny wainscot trimmed with fur. The heavy wooden door did not entirely close, nor lock.   If only there was a blazing fire there in the room below so the heat would rise into our room.  Although it was sparse surroundings, seeing the group of soggy scouts pass by and go to our originally planned housing made this place all the more attractive. I returned from the wifi station down the street to this fire.   The light and heat warmed me, and made me sleepy. Ahh warmth.

To

Warmth

Air temperature below 9.c.  Wind 35 km per hour, driving rain.  We wandered  into the town of Obistat  ready for hot toddies and a warm fire.  We enjoyed an omelet, salad and coffee at the only cafe open at the time, and decided to seek shelter here for the evening, instead of the community gite we had planned on.  We were lead down the street a few doors into a darkly wooded foyer with a wide banister end staircase that lead to nowhere. Our gite room had 3 beds and you could see through the floorboards to the room below. The walls had a satiny wainscot trimmed with fur. The heavy wooden door did not entirely close, nor lock.   If only there was a blazing fire there in the room below so the heat would rise into our room.  Although it was sparse surroundings, seeing the group of soggy scouts pass by and go to our originally planned housing made this place all the more attractive. I returned from the wifi station down the street to this fire.   The light and heat warmed me, and made me sleepy. Ahh warmth.

To