What is it worth?

The plane took off to the west tonight. Orange streaks faded into the black horizon, the sun's  "good night". North, then east, the plane took me towards home. A shadowed figure of half a mountain came into view. Memories of standing "oh too close" to the cornice and peering down the throat of the volcano...  St. Helen's. And next, Adams glows white in the night with its recent covering of snow. Standing on the summit I remember thinking "Carol you will climb higher mountains than the one you did today" And I did and I am.  A few years later a physically and emotionally spent Amy and I rested just below the summit. "Amy If you can do this you can do anything" and she did. She finished and climbed high in the world of academia. To the north now, I barely make out Rainier. After my hysterectomy and a tough year in our marriage, Charlie and I climbed to Camp Muir at 10,000 ft and pitched our tent below at Moon Rocks. I felt rather small on that big mountain. Memories swell in my mind. I feel alive,  real.

Backpacking, peak bagging, walking  the horizontal mountains along the Camino in Spain and France, I loved it all.

Each climb, each Camino, each encounter with nature has been etched in my memory banks. When Charlie mentions "Snowgrass Flats" (along the PCT in Goat Rocks Wilderness of Washington State}, I remember the smell, the taste, the feel  of that place.  It's hard to forget such beauty and wonder.  When I am asked why I would want to hike or climb or walk  or any other adventure... what do I get from such craziness...I don't know what to say.  There are not words to describe the gifts these adventures have presented me. And unless you have been to the top and said to yourself  "Now I know why climbers climb", you cannot understand.  These lessons of mental and physical determination are now what guide me through the symptoms of Parkinson's disease.

Immeasurable worth. Pilgrim Robin introduced me to that term yesterday. I am not sure I can fathom the depth of those two words. Immeasurable worth. All through my life I have been presented with gifts of immeasurable worth.

Today I saw Dr Amie Peterson at OHSU. She has been treating my Parkinson's for nearly 5 years now. Her smile of recognition as she walked by me in the waiting room put a spear of warmth into my heart. She was as excited to see me as I was to see her.

When she was done with her exam she smiled, and looking me straight in the eyes said "Carol, you are doing good. Really good."

I inquired "how much longer are you going to be here?" " My grant last two more years". And I said...."you had better stay"...not finishing it...what I really wanted to say..."until I am cured of Parkinson's.  You had better stay at OHSU to see me cured of Parkinson's".

The plane starts to make its descent.  Almost to Pendleton I spotted it...  The moon. Orange, waning slightly, rising from the black horizon, welcoming the evening, preparing to illuminate the night landscape of the place I call home.  Beautiful. Etched in my memory banks.This moment in time.

I have been given gifts of immeasurable worth. Parkinson's included. Yes, even that.

What is it worth?

The plane took off to the west tonight. Orange streaks faded into the black horizon, the sun's  "good night". North, then east, the plane took me towards home. A shadowed figure of half a mountain came into view. Memories of standing "oh too close" to the cornice and peering down the throat of the volcano...  St. Helen's. And next, Adams glows white in the night with its recent covering of snow. Standing on the summit I remember thinking "Carol you will climb higher mountains than the one you did today" And I did and I am.  A few years later a physically and emotionally spent Amy and I rested just below the summit. "Amy If you can do this you can do anything" and she did. She finished and climbed high in the world of academia. To the north now, I barely make out Rainier. After my hysterectomy and a tough year in our marriage, Charlie and I climbed to Camp Muir at 10,000 ft and pitched our tent below at Moon Rocks. I felt rather small on that big mountain. Memories swell in my mind. I feel alive,  real.

Backpacking, peak bagging, walking  the horizontal mountains along the Camino in Spain and France, I loved it all.

Each climb, each Camino, each encounter with nature has been etched in my memory banks. When Charlie mentions "Snowgrass Flats" (along the PCT in Goat Rocks Wilderness of Washington State}, I remember the smell, the taste, the feel  of that place.  It's hard to forget such beauty and wonder.  When I am asked why I would want to hike or climb or walk  or any other adventure... what do I get from such craziness...I don't know what to say.  There are not words to describe the gifts these adventures have presented me. And unless you have been to the top and said to yourself  "Now I know why climbers climb", you cannot understand.  These lessons of mental and physical determination are now what guide me through the symptoms of Parkinson's disease.

Immeasurable worth. Pilgrim Robin introduced me to that term yesterday. I am not sure I can fathom the depth of those two words. Immeasurable worth. All through my life I have been presented with gifts of immeasurable worth.

Today I saw Dr Amie Peterson at OHSU. She has been treating my Parkinson's for nearly 5 years now. Her smile of recognition as she walked by me in the waiting room put a spear of warmth into my heart. She was as excited to see me as I was to see her.

When she was done with her exam she smiled, and looking me straight in the eyes said "Carol, you are doing good. Really good."

I inquired "how much longer are you going to be here?" " My grant last two more years". And I said...."you had better stay"...not finishing it...what I really wanted to say..."until I am cured of Parkinson's.  You had better stay at OHSU to see me cured of Parkinson's".

The plane starts to make its descent.  Almost to Pendleton I spotted it...  The moon. Orange, waning slightly, rising from the black horizon, welcoming the evening, preparing to illuminate the night landscape of the place I call home.  Beautiful. Etched in my memory banks.This moment in time.

I have been given gifts of immeasurable worth. Parkinson's included. Yes, even that.

My Camino Theme Song The Road Goes Ever On

[SAM] There's a Road Calling you to stray. Step by step Pulling you away. [SAM/FRODO] Under Moon and Star Take the Road No matter how far. Where it leads No-one ever knows Don't look back Follow where it goes. Far beyond the Sun Take the Road Wherever it runs. The Road goes on Ever ever on Hill by hill Mile by mile Field by field Stile by stile. The Road goes on Ever ever on The Road goes on Ever ever on Hill by hill Mile by mile Field by field Stile by stile. The Road goes on Ever ever on [RANGERS] Mountain and valley And pasture and meadow Stretching unending For mile after mile. Fenland and moorland And shoreline and canyon Bordered by hurdle And hedgerow and stile [PIPPIN] One more mile Then it's time to eat Pick some pears, Succulent and sweet. [PIPPIN/MERRY] To the farthest shore. Take the Road A hundred miles more. [MERRY] Sweet pink trout Tickled form a stream Milk a goat, Churn it into cream. [MERRY/PIPPIN] Far beyond the Sun Take the Road Wherever it runs. The Road goes on Ever ever on Moor by moor Glen by glen Vale by vale Fen by fen The Road goes on Ever ever on. [FRODO/SAM] See the Road flows past your doorstep Calling for your feet to stray Like a deep and rolling river It will sweep them far away. [ALL] Just beyond the far horizon Lies a waiting world unknown Like the dawn its beauty beckons With a wonder all its own. [ELVES] Númenna! Auti i ré. Yallume! Hilya! Númenna! Auti i ré. Yallume! Hilya! Hilya! Hilya! Auta. Hilya! Númenna! Auti i ré. Yallume! Hilya! [RANGERS] Mountain and valley And pasture and meadow Stretching unending For mile after mile. Fenland and moorland And shoreline and canyon Bordered by hurdle And hedgerow and stile. [Thanks to Muzzy for lyrics] "Remember what Bilbo used to say: It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door ©2012 allmusicals.com. Lyrics & video are property & copyright of their owners & provided for educational purposes only

My Camino Theme Song The Road Goes Ever On

[SAM] There's a Road Calling you to stray. Step by step Pulling you away. [SAM/FRODO] Under Moon and Star Take the Road No matter how far. Where it leads No-one ever knows Don't look back Follow where it goes. Far beyond the Sun Take the Road Wherever it runs. The Road goes on Ever ever on Hill by hill Mile by mile Field by field Stile by stile. The Road goes on Ever ever on The Road goes on Ever ever on Hill by hill Mile by mile Field by field Stile by stile. The Road goes on Ever ever on [RANGERS] Mountain and valley And pasture and meadow Stretching unending For mile after mile. Fenland and moorland And shoreline and canyon Bordered by hurdle And hedgerow and stile [PIPPIN] One more mile Then it's time to eat Pick some pears, Succulent and sweet. [PIPPIN/MERRY] To the farthest shore. Take the Road A hundred miles more. [MERRY] Sweet pink trout Tickled form a stream Milk a goat, Churn it into cream. [MERRY/PIPPIN] Far beyond the Sun Take the Road Wherever it runs. The Road goes on Ever ever on Moor by moor Glen by glen Vale by vale Fen by fen The Road goes on Ever ever on. [FRODO/SAM] See the Road flows past your doorstep Calling for your feet to stray Like a deep and rolling river It will sweep them far away. [ALL] Just beyond the far horizon Lies a waiting world unknown Like the dawn its beauty beckons With a wonder all its own. [ELVES] Númenna! Auti i ré. Yallume! Hilya! Númenna! Auti i ré. Yallume! Hilya! Hilya! Hilya! Auta. Hilya! Númenna! Auti i ré. Yallume! Hilya! [RANGERS] Mountain and valley And pasture and meadow Stretching unending For mile after mile. Fenland and moorland And shoreline and canyon Bordered by hurdle And hedgerow and stile. [Thanks to Muzzy for lyrics] "Remember what Bilbo used to say: It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door ©2012 allmusicals.com. Lyrics & video are property & copyright of their owners & provided for educational purposes only

Two pilgrims climbing

It was not advised by the pilgrim's office in St. Jean Pied de Port. Going past the albergue at Orisson and on the Napolean route over the Pyrenees mountains could be dangerous. Pilgrims were advised to bus or walk the lower route to Valcarlos. 

It was Leslie's call.  I had walked this route last June 4 and 5 in beautiful clear weather. I was prepared for the weather and had the experience. This was her Camino. We headed to Orisson and would make the decision about the next stage in the morning.

In our very first conversations about meeting up on the Camino we  discussed the location of St Jean Pied de Port. I made reservations to coordinate the dates she would be there. I did not know at that time I would walk with her from France into Spain. Leslie showed some trepidation about the climb.  I suggested that by doing it together we both would be fine.

Probably one of the few traits Leslie and I hold in common is our mule nosed tenacity.  Just tell me "no, you can't" and I am so defiant that next thing you know I am... Of course I can be sensible too.  At this point my senses told me it was just going to be a wet and foggy climb. 

As expected, once she was told "no" Leslie became more determined to go over Napoleon's route. She also wanted to walk down the challenging descent through the forest to Ronscesvalle, even though the safer road route was available. I was working on an argument for that one.

We kept our reservations at Orisson, and made an early start out of the Gite  L 'Espirit Chemin. . 8 kilometers, not too bad in distance.  Yet in the 8 k we would gain like 300 billion meters  in elevation.

"Frickin steep." Leslie said.  "Steeper than anything in France."  I didn't think so. Time to distract.  I told the stories of my first walk last June.  "This is where I stopped to pee in the barn and the dog let me know that was not ok."    "We stopped for ice cream here." "Where this road crosses the cows came running down and the herders yelled at us to get out of the way." "This is where we leave the road for awhile and climb straight up." " Ah ha, I laid down here and took a nap." "There are some switchbacks here".  "We are almost back to the road." "Look back now, the fog has cleared.  See how far you've come." "Be amazed Leslie. You are amazing.  Be amazed." "There is a water fountain  coming up." "When we got here we started singing Yellow Submarine. " "Wal ah. Orisson."

We made it. We shared a room with 4 other people. The man in the bunk overhead snored so loudly I thought an avalanche was rolling down the mountain. And perhaps there was no water for a shower. Phew!

Morning came and we missed getting out with the early group.  The guy from the kitchen was guiding some pilgrims from the point where the Camino leaves the trail through the pass.  We meet him coming back.  The climb was less steep, yet the the wind, fog, sleet brought out the level of difficulty.  At one point my walking buddy sat down.  "That's  it,  I am not going on." To which I responded "You aren't hurt and I am not calling the rescue team here.  Get up. One foot  in front of the other.  We'll stay close".  And she did. She got up and walked We met up with a cute American teenager coming up from the other side.  He was so sweet when he told us "If I had to do this over, I would take the road."  For whatever reason, his sweet smiled warmed Leslie, and inspired by this Camino angel she had new life!  We kept climbing until we came to a little hut where there were 3 young people from Great Britain  huddled out of the wind.  I had taken a nap outside here last summer.  Not today. And I had to go to the bathroom quite bad here last summer. Yes, that too, today.

The next people we met were an older couple who warned of 3 km of wretched mud.  They were not kidding.  We walked into Spain, past Rolands fountain, and along the path with the closely set marker sticks so you would not stray in a white out. One would expect that Spain would take care of its mud problem, especially since France did not.  Hah!

We reached the paved road.  This is the point people  are mistaken about a landmark  in Brierly's  guidebook.  Here the trail goes steeply down  on the right and crosses the paved road.  At that crossing  point you have the choice to continue left down through the forest or take the windy road right.

We met up with a  kind gentleman from Ireland with whom we had the discussion "which way".  The marked trail crossed a steep snowfield.  We decided to see where the road went.  My instincts were correct that it just met up with the trail.  At the crossing we stopped to see pilgrims struggling down the snow field, falling. One tumbled a few times.  They regrouped and I was able to report from experience that the trail down was steep.  We could see that it had recently been closed and roped off. All decided on the road.  They took off and left me in the fog. Perfectly OK. Down is down.  The road switched back and your could cut directly down to save time. Reaching the bottom, we could not find the route to Ronscesvailles.  After about 50 feet of highway walking we heard shouts calling us back.  Down the draw we went, through a lovely forest.  I dragged myself into the new albergue.  It took awhile to get my bunk, a few cubbies away from Leslie.  The abby was warm, and filled with excited pilgrims just starting out.  They were surprised to hear I was finishing my walk now.  A dinner of trout and wine followed.  Leslie found the green bag full of our extra stuff.  I stayed up until lights out and then drifted off into seamless sleep.

What will tomorrow bring?

Two pilgrims climbing

It was not advised by the pilgrim's office in St. Jean Pied de Port. Going past the albergue at Orisson and on the Napolean route over the Pyrenees mountains could be dangerous. Pilgrims were advised to bus or walk the lower route to Valcarlos. 

It was Leslie's call.  I had walked this route last June 4 and 5 in beautiful clear weather. I was prepared for the weather and had the experience. This was her Camino. We headed to Orisson and would make the decision about the next stage in the morning.

In our very first conversations about meeting up on the Camino we  discussed the location of St Jean Pied de Port. I made reservations to coordinate the dates she would be there. I did not know at that time I would walk with her from France into Spain. Leslie showed some trepidation about the climb.  I suggested that by doing it together we both would be fine.

Probably one of the few traits Leslie and I hold in common is our mule nosed tenacity.  Just tell me "no, you can't" and I am so defiant that next thing you know I am... Of course I can be sensible too.  At this point my senses told me it was just going to be a wet and foggy climb. 

As expected, once she was told "no" Leslie became more determined to go over Napoleon's route. She also wanted to walk down the challenging descent through the forest to Ronscesvalle, even though the safer road route was available. I was working on an argument for that one.

We kept our reservations at Orisson, and made an early start out of the Gite  L 'Espirit Chemin. . 8 kilometers, not too bad in distance.  Yet in the 8 k we would gain like 300 billion meters  in elevation.

"Frickin steep." Leslie said.  "Steeper than anything in France."  I didn't think so. Time to distract.  I told the stories of my first walk last June.  "This is where I stopped to pee in the barn and the dog let me know that was not ok."    "We stopped for ice cream here." "Where this road crosses the cows came running down and the herders yelled at us to get out of the way." "This is where we leave the road for awhile and climb straight up." " Ah ha, I laid down here and took a nap." "There are some switchbacks here".  "We are almost back to the road." "Look back now, the fog has cleared.  See how far you've come." "Be amazed Leslie. You are amazing.  Be amazed." "There is a water fountain  coming up." "When we got here we started singing Yellow Submarine. " "Wal ah. Orisson."

We made it. We shared a room with 4 other people. The man in the bunk overhead snored so loudly I thought an avalanche was rolling down the mountain. And perhaps there was no water for a shower. Phew!

Morning came and we missed getting out with the early group.  The guy from the kitchen was guiding some pilgrims from the point where the Camino leaves the trail through the pass.  We meet him coming back.  The climb was less steep, yet the the wind, fog, sleet brought out the level of difficulty.  At one point my walking buddy sat down.  "That's  it,  I am not going on." To which I responded "You aren't hurt and I am not calling the rescue team here.  Get up. One foot  in front of the other.  We'll stay close".  And she did. She got up and walked We met up with a cute American teenager coming up from the other side.  He was so sweet when he told us "If I had to do this over, I would take the road."  For whatever reason, his sweet smiled warmed Leslie, and inspired by this Camino angel she had new life!  We kept climbing until we came to a little hut where there were 3 young people from Great Britain  huddled out of the wind.  I had taken a nap outside here last summer.  Not today. And I had to go to the bathroom quite bad here last summer. Yes, that too, today.

The next people we met were an older couple who warned of 3 km of wretched mud.  They were not kidding.  We walked into Spain, past Rolands fountain, and along the path with the closely set marker sticks so you would not stray in a white out. One would expect that Spain would take care of its mud problem, especially since France did not.  Hah!

We reached the paved road.  This is the point people  are mistaken about a landmark  in Brierly's  guidebook.  Here the trail goes steeply down  on the right and crosses the paved road.  At that crossing  point you have the choice to continue left down through the forest or take the windy road right.

We met up with a  kind gentleman from Ireland with whom we had the discussion "which way".  The marked trail crossed a steep snowfield.  We decided to see where the road went.  My instincts were correct that it just met up with the trail.  At the crossing we stopped to see pilgrims struggling down the snow field, falling. One tumbled a few times.  They regrouped and I was able to report from experience that the trail down was steep.  We could see that it had recently been closed and roped off. All decided on the road.  They took off and left me in the fog. Perfectly OK. Down is down.  The road switched back and your could cut directly down to save time. Reaching the bottom, we could not find the route to Ronscesvailles.  After about 50 feet of highway walking we heard shouts calling us back.  Down the draw we went, through a lovely forest.  I dragged myself into the new albergue.  It took awhile to get my bunk, a few cubbies away from Leslie.  The abby was warm, and filled with excited pilgrims just starting out.  They were surprised to hear I was finishing my walk now.  A dinner of trout and wine followed.  Leslie found the green bag full of our extra stuff.  I stayed up until lights out and then drifted off into seamless sleep.

What will tomorrow bring?

Estella

It is very quiet here at the Monastario San Benito. An occasional sound of the nuns singing,  echoing footsteps or doors closing is all that is heard.

My room is at the end of the long hallway of guest rooms.  The floors are marble and the walls are seemingly freshly painted white. When I walked into my room I gasped!  A single bed with starched sheets.  They smelled so good!  A small nightstand, chair and desk with  a lamp. A throw rug in the floor. A  huge window that opened to the view of the city. A small closet on the right and a small bathroom on the left with a sparkling white toilet, sink and shower bath.

There is no one else here this first night.  The sisters are very good to me. They feed me and make me comfortable.   

I join them in the second prayer of the morning,  Laudes, at 8:30.   Then breakfast.  At 2 pm is lunch and at  7 pm is vespers and mass.  Dinner is t 8:30 pm.

Through  a lot of discussion with an African sister, Hermana Augustine who speaks a little English and Hermana Marie Theresa who speaks even littler English I learn the work of this monastery

These cloistered nuns devote their entire life to prayer. Every day all day they are praying for all of us who are struggling in this world. They pray for the sick, the well, the youth, the old, families, parents, prisoners soldiers, Christians, non Christians, Germans, Koreans, pilgrims and police. They pray for the sanctification of the whole world.

There is a bit of comfort there, knowing we are being prayed for. There is such love and joy in these sister's hearts. They are not of this world, yet pray for the world.

After talking non-stop the last 4 weeks, this silence strikes me.  I feel alone, yet very full.