Belorado to Burgos 50 km
Terry was on enforced break which left me the opportunity to take on a two day solo walk from Belorado to Burgos, where we would rendezvous. At first light I was buckled in and loaded with my pack but was hit by an angry Mother Nature upon opening the door of our albergue. A swift backward step was necessary to put on my rain gear and waterproof cover for my pack.
Finally setting off, body bent forward I pushed on and so began a 10hr Shackleton effort in an uphill ascent to Atapuerca 32k away.
The first 5k was flat enough but along a quagmire farm track with thick red mud that didn’t want to release your footing. It was heavy going and it was slow. And wet. So heavy the rain my waterproof shoes finally let in the torrents and two hours later I squelched into the last village before the climb. Everyone of the few pilgrims braving this journey stopped in at a roadside bar and fortified themselves best they could. Mine was a carajillo, espresso with a shot of whiskey. It was 9:30am. I knew it was going to be a long day so also took the opportunity to change into dry socks (for all of 5 min) but knew soaked feet were susceptible to furious blisters… whatever. I also put my pre-made baguette with Serrano in my jacket pocket. Under these conditions you’re not going to stop for such pleasantries as a break. And where would you? There was no cover, no protection, just bend into the wind and up up up for 4 hours solid. Finally getting to the top of the ridge we had the pleasant surprise of snow mixed with that rain. For another two hour stretch, straight across this ridge. You had to laugh. I did with a German couple who said it was So Amazing!!
The only thing that got me through this was thinking how I was going to ask for a private room at the village of Ages, my planned stop at 27k. If I had the opportunity to sleep in a room absent of snoring, this would be it – and I deserved it! Arriving at said village, the only albergue (of 3) which had private rooms, was closed. You’ve got to be kidding!?? The kind lady said I’d need to go another 3k to Atapuerta…
Wet, tired, yet determined, I continue my own personal Perfect Storm. It was a large operation with many chalet type rooms, and not “completo” (full), yay! No wifi?? Nooo! If I was going to recover for 12 hrs, I was going to need comms, and it’s been (another) personal challenge not to use any data (and would there be any 3G reception in the outback – unlikely). She suggested trying Papasol. Another half kilometre to an inn, with 6 rooms. 5 reserved. Room 4 was waiting for me.
After washing off the mud and getting creative with hanging up the wet gear, I called Terry to let her know I was safe. If it wasn’t for the thunder, lightning, and hail the size of grapes getting in the way of the reception…
Tripping down to the bar for something to revive my aching legs, I bumped into a few pilgrims I’d met previously who hadn’t reached cover in time, and battered and bruised agreed to meet up at dinner to swap stories.
I could say the next day was easier, but it never is. My one take away was a 30 min respite where a miraculous double rainbow arched over The Way. This brought more tears to an otherwise stolid group of hardy souls.
And because I clocked up extra mileage the day before, I arrived in Burgos while the bells of Catedral de Santa Maria were tolling noon. And Terry tracked me on the app while I circled the cathedral looking for the cafe where she waited patiently for my arrival. With a clara (beer with lemonade) and an overwhelming treat of a 4star hotel, with all the mod cons, And A Bath, you could cry.