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Newsletter - Winter 2005 Biking
the Camino de Santiago Pilgrims
on the
Camino de Santiago
a postcard from Cary Adams It seems to me that
everyone should be a pilgrim at least once! This spring, I joined Pacer
Gordon McIntosh on one of the most famous pilgrimage routes in the
world--the Camino de Santiago. Our plan was to bike about 2/3 of the
total trail, giving us a ride of some 350 miles across northern Spain. Renting mountain bikes and
each cramming about 35 pounds of stuff into saddle bags, we set off from
the charming city of Burgos. Blissfully unaware of the mountains we were
to encounter later in the trip, we fairly easily gained our bike legs as
we followed the dirt and rock path used by the hikers across the great
plain between Burgos and Leon. Overnighting in various
pilgrim hostels, often asked simply for a donation, we found ourselves
sleeping with 50-60 fellow hikers/bikers, usually with a strong snoring
chorus. Each morning, we simply packed our bags, saddled up, and began
riding, often with only loose ideas of how much ground we wanted to
cover. As we cycled through centuries-old villages, we were amazed at
the lack of commercialism on a trail that is quickly becoming very
popular and may see thousands of pilgrims this year. The days had an
appealing simplicity and it was great fun meeting the others on the
camino, especially popular with Europeans. After reaching Leon, the fun really started. Towns
were often situated on valleys and the mornings brought challenging and
extended uphills. One mountain threw us a relentless 18 mile climb that
lasted half the day. But the ride down was pure exhilaration--worth all
the effort!
Pilgrims
on the Camino
de Santiago by
Gordon N. McIntosh On
a sunny morning last May, Cary Adams and I jumped onto our rented
mountain bikes and departed on a ten-day journey along Spains Camino de
Santiago. It only took two hours before we faced our first test: a nasty
climb up a rocky bluff ominously named Matamulas (the mule killer).
There were no carcasses, but as we cursed our way up that mule-killing
ridge, thoughts of mortality were definitely on our minds. We had over
300 miles and two mountain ranges to go. We
were following an ancient path that threads 500 miles from the French
Pyrenees to Santiago de Compostela in northern Spain. There, according
to legend, the remains of St. James the Apostle (Santiago in Spanish)
were miraculously discovered in the early 9th century.
Devotees began trekking to St. James shrine from all over Europe,
but Santiagos real prominence began in the era of the Christian
re-conquest of Spain from the Moors, culminating in 1492. The Moors were
said to carry relics of Mohammed into battle and to counter this
advantage, the Christians called upon St. James, renaming him Santiago
Matamoros (St. James the Moor Killer). Images of a sword-wielding St.
James on horseback smiting infidels can be seen all along the
Camino. Buen
Camino, or Good journey, is the customary salutation between peregrinos
(pilgrims). You can recognize other pilgrims by the traditional symbols
they may carry: a scallop shell, a gourd and a walking stick. More than
ninety percent hike, taking a month or more. Others cycle and a few
travel on horseback. We rented bikes and started from Burgos, about 350
miles from Santiago, sufficient to qualify us for the Compostela, the
certificate earned for making the journey. Getting your official Camino
passport stamped along the way is proof you covered the distance. The
Camino is not for the weak or hurried. The traditional route is a
footpath, sometimes rocky and steep, with a few stretches impassable
even on our mountain bikes. Reviewing our route one morning, we read a
medieval pilgrims warning against a particular pass. Too late to avoid
it, we paid a price only marathoners could appreciate. Another day had
us inching up an eighteen-mile pass in the rain. One seasoned peregrino
wrote, it isn't going to Santiago that matters, its how deeply you
suffered to get there. If you walk, your feet and back hurt. If you
bike, your butt and thighs ache. Some mornings, we thought wed awakened
in a hospital ward as dozens of hikers ministered to their feet. (There's
not much to be done for a sore butt.) But
what was a little discomfort compared to the positives? For every climb,
there was an exhilarating (though sometimes terrifying) descent. We were
rewarded with spectacular views as we climbed over mountain ranges,
wound through valleys and across plains, fields and farmland, crossed
stream-beds and Roman bridges, and passed through eucalyptus forests and
cobblestoned villages. Every few miles another historical site awaited,
like the bridge where a knight vanquished all comers for the love of a
lady or the Cruz de Ferro where we followed tradition by leaving our own
stone. One cold night we stayed in O Cebreiro, a fogged-in mountaintop
town whose straw-roofed dwellings reminded us of Hobbitville and which
was the site of a 14th century miracle. And with every turn we were
watchful for the next yellow arrow or scallop shell that would point us
to Santiago. For
the most part our Spanish
hosts were very friendly and accommodating (except the ubiquitous
storks, huge birds who seemed determined to douse passersby from their
church-tower nests.) In larger cities like Burgos, León and Santiago
itself, we stopped in tapas bars, listened to bagpipes and visited
monasteries, museums and cathedrals. In the villages, we stopped in
wayside cafes or tavernas for coffee, beer or an empanada snack. Between
towns the only traffic was other pilgrims, sheep or cows. Most
pilgrims we met were European, and though language differences provided
some incomprehensible and a few comical exchanges, camaraderie was the
norm. But though our destination was the same, the motives were
different. The religious or spiritual saw the Camino as a true
pilgrimage. Others were on a quest for self or wanted time to meditate.
Finally there were those doing it for the adventure and challenge.
Whatever the reason, millions have followed the trail, hoping to embrace
the statue of St. James in the cathedral, just as we did when we
arrived. Many
have made this difficult trip repeatedly, and after experiencing the
Camino ourselves, we understand why. We also recognize as true what we
often heard along the way: that as much as our sights were on Santiago,
the journey didn't end there. Buen
camino. |
