Well, that was a bitch. (Day 1)
I want to start this post by saying that my waste belt was WAY too tight in the cover photo. I loosened it shortly thereafter because it not only made my hips feel like they were in some medieval torture device but it also made my gut look like I was Santa Claus if he had retired and let himself go.
I’m ripped in real life. Wanted you to know. Anyway………
Today I finished the first leg of my camino. It consisted of a 16.9 mile hike that was mostly (and i mean like 85%) uphill. And not little hills. Big hills. Those from the Portland area know Dog Mountain and it’s like ascending Dog Mountain two or three times. That’s how it felt to me anyway.
Don’t laugh at my pace. I was going about the same as everyone else. Except young people. And people in shape.
The popular opinion is that the first day of the camino is the hardest. I’ve only walked one day so I can’t really comment on that but I can say this: it was the most difficult hike I can remember doing.
The last part was nice. Not the downhill but the last little flat bit.
I was incredibly lucky to bump into a couple from Toronto right away as we and many other pilgrims stumbled around town trying to find the start of the trail. His name is Glenn (spelled with two n’s as God intended) and his wife is Jan. We kept together and chatted for quite a while but once the huge never-ending hills hit I fell behind trying to conserve my strength and stay hydrated. I bumped into them again at an albergue where we had some coffee and shared some fruit.
At that rest stop I also met my first camino dog. He was a sweetie.
Little did I know that it was about to get even more difficult. We seemed to go from hill to hill and once again I fell behind after a while. I didn’t feel too bad about this, many folks were struggling and I was reminding myself that this wasn’t a race. If it was I would be wearing more lycra and would have a number on the rear of my shorts. I think I might need to do that before this whole thing is over.
This was the beginning of what I refer to as the “this is bullshit” stage of the hike.
At different times during the climb I would bump into Glenn and Jan again. Sometimes they were sitting on the side of the road having a snack, once waiting at a food truck near a summit (yes, a food truck,-and it was a Godsend) and once waiting at a monument on the top of a hill. Each time they pointed something out on the horizon, shared some more fruit and then we would take off together again. I suspect they were waiting on me without actually saying it. I also suspect they are incredibly kind people and I’m very lucky to have met them. I told them as much when we made it to where I”m staying. The kind of heartfelt sentiment that surprises people. Maybe it was the altitude, the exhaustion or the sheer joy of having made it to my hotel but regardless I’m glad I said it. I think it meant a lot.
Now that I”m done complaining I need to also state that while I was struggling up the mountains I was surrounded by some of the most beautiful vistas I’ve seen. My pictures do not do it justice. That’s mostly because I’m a shit photographer. I tend to pick the wrong subjects, frame them badly and often have smootch on the lens.
Views and such
Mountain thingies
Horses were EVERYWHERE.
Aside from just the views there was the weather. It was sunny at points, windy at points and for a stretch we were actually hiking in the clouds at the peaks of some of the ridges. You couldn’t see more than few feet in front of you. It was beautiful and unsettling.
So that was my first day. I definitely couldn’t do another 34 if they were all like this but they aren’t. Tomorrow should be a simpler affair and I will likely meet Glenn and Jan along the way. Until then I will follow the advice of my spray painting friend below:
