change is good
How many times in your life have you told someone about an exciting possibility or dramatic twist? Maybe you’ll be lucky and have optimistic friends or encouraging parents who tell you to try it. But many times, too many times, you hear: “Be careful what you wish for.” For the last two weeks on the Camino, I have looked down the flat dirt road to see more flat dirt road. Leaving León a few days ago, I left the suburban sprawl and walked towards more agricultural and grazing land. But there, in the distance, I saw my desire: rising majestically and prominently on the horizon. Mountains.
So I walked towards the cozy change. Three days ago I toured the Cruz de Ferro, the highest point of the French Way and one of the most emotional. A tall metal post with a simple cross where people place stones that they carry from home or collect along the way. Many pilgrims bring photographs or mementos of loved ones who have passed away.
I watch as a middle-aged woman in an orange T-shirt slowly walks up to the venue. On the edge he reverently places something he had been holding close to his heart. Leaning in, I can see his lips move and his shoulders shake. She is crying. I have no idea who this woman is, what she has placed or who she is commemorating. I’m just a witness. And I feel honored and touched to be here. 
The next morning I woke up to the sun peeking over the horizon from my hostel window. It was impressive and validated my boast that sunrises in the mountains are the best. (But we all know it’s a gift every time the sun rises and we’re still here on this earth to witness it.) I was glad to be back in the mountains. For those readers who don’t know, I moved to the mountains of southwest Virginia 16 years ago and fell in love. With the views, the clean and fresh air and the trails that take me through its hills and valleys. The mountains are my home now.
Be careful what you wish for.
From time to time the Camino gives you options. They are called Variants, alternate sections where the route forks and rejoins later. I’ve done some of these routes before, so when I chose the Pradella Route, also known as the Mountain Route, leaving from Villafranca de Bierzo, I didn’t think it was a big deal. Hmm. Maybe I should have paid attention when a local man stopped me, pointed to the left and said, «No, that way… this is very difficult.» «Okay,» I said. He just doesn’t know what kind of tough mountain pilgrim he’s talking to. Ha.
The first mile and a half I huffed and puffed and gained about 1,000 feet. I was pretty proud of myself at this point, although sometimes I had to keep my eyes on my shoes because looking to the left along the edge of the road made me dizzy. I could hear the echoes of transport trucks roaring far below on a highway that ran through the pass. I continued up and up until I was higher than the electrical and communication towers I had seen just an hour ago from the city and I thought, «God, those towers look like they are touching the sky.» 
I rationed my water. I didn’t take breaks, I just kept going. It was no longer a walk, this was a walk. For 6 miles I continued on a rough, rocky single track trail and access roads leading to the towers. I didn’t see anyone. As I reached the sidewalk, I was relieved to think that Trabadelo was only a mile away. Mistaken. A few meters ahead, the pavement gave way to more rocks, a slippery and annoying slope. Of course. What goes up, must come down. I hate downhills, but I went down that puzzle of scree and loose rocks and saw the town sign. Finally, I’m done for today. Alleluia!
The next day I do it again, this time along the main route. The climb to O’ Cebreiro is brutal. Christine, a long-time pilgrim and fellow hiker from New Zealand, once told me about horseback riding on a stage of the Camino. I was never sure what stage he was referring to, but today I found out. The clue was the prolific horse poop under his feet. It would have been a great time to ride: the trail climbs 1,950 feet for 5 miles. I never saw the horse but I would have liked to know where I could rent one.
Tomorrow, more mountains. Mountains for breakfast and lunch. But at nap time, I’ll be tucked away in my comfy lodge, taking in the view, happy and exhausted. Galicia at last! 
This website contains affiliate links, which means The Trek may receive a percentage of any products or services you purchase using links in articles or advertisements. The buyer pays the same price they would otherwise pay, and their purchase helps support The Trek’s ongoing goal of bringing you quality backpacking information and advice. Thank you for your support!
For more information, visit the About page of this site.
