The Next Five Days on the Camino Le Puy
Embarking on the Camino Le Puy is more than just a walk; it’s an experience that challenges the body, mind, and spirit. With nearly 400 miles stretching ahead of us, my walking partner, Rick, and I have set off on this journey with a mix of excitement, trepidation, and a healthy dose of humor. The Camino isn’t just about reaching the destination; it’s about the moments in between—the people you meet, the unexpected discoveries, and the personal reflections that come with each step. This blog is a chronicle of our days on the trail, where the scenery changes as quickly as the thoughts in our heads, and every day brings something new to notice, whether it’s the colors around us, the sounds of nature, or the conversations that linger in our minds long after the day’s walk is done.
There are many reasons why Rick is my chosen walking partner: his natural curiosity, his experience as a seasoned pilgrim, his adaptability, and his general good looks (I need a good wingman). The suggestion to take the next day off sealed my decision. We have nearly 400 more miles until we reach St. Jean Pied de Port, and if we push ourselves too hard, we might not make it. The first three days were HARD and took a lot out of us. So we spent the day walking around Aumont-Aubrac, which took about 45 minutes, including a stop for a beer. Coffee, beer, and wine flow freely all day, but finding something to eat between 1000 and 1900 is damn near impossible. We got lucky, however (luck is what I bring to the table), found a hole-in-the-wall cafe, and had our best meal yet. It was here that “Donkey” was born.
Donkey, another Rick’s brainchild, is the name of the extra stuff that we will have transported daily to our destination. We take all the heavy stuff and non-daily essentials out of our packs and put them into a garbage bag we affectionately call Donkey. At 0800, a guy we’ll call Mr. Scott magically transports Donkey. When we arrive at our destination, Donkey will be waiting for us.
Rest Day: We’re Not Snowflakes!
Aussie left us… We decided to take a rest day, but that was not on her agenda. Frankly, we needed the rest. We were out of shape going into this, and so far, this Camino has been HARD.
Day 5: Taking Flight
Aumont-Aubrac to Nasbinals (17 miles, ~6 hours)
Long day, but I felt recovered and was rady for the walk. I decided to notice all the things flying around me.
Bugs: Butterflies, grasshoppers, bees and flies. I’m not an entomologist, so I don’t know if it’s a black or house fly. It’s not a horse fly… But these MFers are everywhere in this part of France. They should be the national bird (clearly not an ornithologist either).
Birds: Sparrows, swallows (European and unladen for those that are asking), a hawk and a hummingbird
Dandelion Seeds
But not one airplane… I noticed this after a friend observed how loud it is living in Seattle with all the airplanes flying overhead. This Camino has been quiet. The trail is generally off the beaten path with few cars. The predominant sound has been the ringing of distant cowbells. I don’t think the expression was meant this way, but we all could use more cowbells in our lives.
Rick let me take the lead, but he kept a steady pace, just slightly faster than mine, eventually passing me when I stopped for my first coffee break. There, I met a Dutchman named Jost who was walking alone to Finisterre (the end of the earth - past Santiago).
I caught up with Rick after about 13 miles where he was patiently sleeping in the grass. We made it to Nasbinals, an amazingly clean and obviously well-to-do city.
Day 6: Brown Day
Nasbinals to Saint-Chély d’Aubrac (13 miles, ~5 hours
I decided to switch from things to noticing all the colors today. The day was overwhelmingly brown. All the browns… more than 256 Crayola. Dirt path. Muddy path, sandstone, limestone, dead grass, ready-to-be-harvested wheat, cows - so many cows (mocha, chocolate shake, Yoohoo, and cowshit browns (at least five different shades), seed pods, grasshoppers, caterpillars, birds. Almost everything was brown today. Sure, there were hints of green, yellow, white, and blue, but all I could see was Brown.
It reminded me of a story I read to my kids. My Many Colored Days… “On Purple Days I’m Sad. I groan. I drag my tail. I walk alone.”
It also reminded me of a discussion I had about expectations on my Portuguese Camino. Are my expectations affecting what I notice? What bias is making me see the browns? In a spiritual context, brown symbolizes wholesomeness, reliability, healing, grounding, stability, security, warmth, and healing. I guess that makes sense. I’m healing and getting my legs under me on this Camino.
Day 7: Basket Case
Saint-Chély d’Aubrac to Espalion (15 miles, ~5 hours)
It’s incredible how ecosystems change from mile to mile. Yesterday was all brown. Today was all green. It was a green day (somebody please get it...). Pines, leaves, grasses, hillsides. It was incredible in comparison to the day before. Green implies beginnings, new growth, vibrant health, and other ideas connected with life, rebirth, and renewal. So, we walk from grounding and healing into new beginnings. You can’t make this up. Walking the Camino is amazing.
I met a group of Frenchies. Aside from one guy about my age, they were all in their 20s. They were FAST. Curiously one of them held a deck of cards. Using 92% of my 7 years of French lessons, I asked “Qu’est que C’est?” Thankfully he responded “en anglais” (93%). He was carrying a deck of challenging questions. He offered me to pick one, and I did… “What thing in your life changed you the most?” My kids!
Yes the Camino changes us. But nothing compares to your kids. I love you Gen and Coop!
Day 8: Stop and Smell the Roses (8 miles, 3 hours)
Espalion to Estaing
Despite a wicked climb of only 500 vertical feet but averaging a 30% grade (max 42%), this was my favorite day so far. On the climb, I was reminded of a time with my mom and dad when we visited Boyne “Mountains” in Michigan. Looking at it, I was underwhelmed. “This is not a mountain, Dad…” He challenged me by saying he would give me $10 if I could make it to the top. I didn’t. ! It turns out Boyne Mountain is also 500 vertical feet. Today, I finally made it to the top, Dad (just barely)!
On the last day of Portuguese Camino, Maite and I encountered a STOP sign where someone had written “and smell the roses.” Today, I did several times. It was a short, quiet, slow walk today. I loved it.
As you approach Estaing, the setting and views are spectacular. On your way into town, you cross a beautiful one-way bridge (for cars). Coincidentally, Rick was waiting on the other side of the bridge. Here, we sat for a few hours, drinking beer and watching pilgrims flow into town. One was named Ricardo, Mexican by birth, but now living in Calgary, Canada. Ricardo shared his story, and how after witnessing a close friend die within two months of being diagnosed with cancer, he decided to retire and live his life.
Estaing is an incredible little village. I’d love the chance to return someday.
Day 9: Did you hear that (15.3 miles, 5.75 hours)
Estaing to Espeyrac
Today was sounds. I didn’t choose this. It just happened. It started with a restless night listening to cars and trucks rumble by. Rick would tell you it was me snoring… I didn’t hear that. It was windy today, and the sounds varied from tree to tree and from field to field. The French Oaks were creaking. I even heard (and saw) a woodpecker. A jet. A helicopter! By afternoon the thunder was rolling across the sky. And as I post this blog, the church bells are chiming...
I also talked on the walk today with people other than Rick. First was Fenton from near Sligo, Ireland (which coincidentally has a pub called “Shoot the Crows” where I had the best Guinness in all of Ireland). Fenton is walking with his son, but they are both walking at their own pace, so his son wasn’t with us. Fenton is very thoughtful and asks good questions. As are most people, he’s dealing with some serious shit (not my story to tell). He’s also contemplating how he wants to spend the next five years of his life. I enjoyed his company.
I also spent a little more time with Ricardo, although he likes to run downhill on the pavement, so…Bye! Ricardo will be walking the entire Camino, so we’ll meet up again.
Reflections on the Journey So Far
Taking it Slow
On my first Camino, I was fast. I wasn’t the fastest, but I was definitely in the top percentile of walkers. Of the people I met, only Maite matched my pace and daily rhythms (“maybe we should stop for a beer?” I went into the Camino, thinking about it as an athletic accomplishment. How many miles per day? How far had I walked? How can I push myself to do more? It was near the end when I realized it was a race. There’s nothing wrong with walking slowly; walking at a pace that makes sense for you on that day.
Walking Meditation
Another reason I’m walking more slowly is I’m practicing walking meditation. You may have noticed… Brown Day, Green Day, etc.. It’s an amazing way to stay present and unencumbered with other thoughts. Some days are like that, even in Australia.
