You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
The Resilient Pilgrim.
She is the U.S. Postal Service of tough. Through rain and sleet and howling winds.
If Stonehenge could walk, it would walk with her.
She’s the poster child for unstoppable force meets immovable object.
She puts a smile on the Mona Lisa.
Why?
Because she walked the rugged hills and back paths of Spain.
I saw pictures of sheep filling the road. I saw pictures of dirt paths. I saw castles and vineyards and town squares that could be from the 16th century.
This bad ass little pilgrim walked 775 km. That’s close to 500 miles for you Americans who can’t handle the metric system.
This pilgrim started on the Spanish / French border with a dream and a back pack full of apprehension.
What would each step bring?
Where would I end up?
Could I do it?
What am I made of?
And with that, the pilgrim stepped off the face of the Earth and began a voyage that only Columbus and other great explorers can know.
It’s a voyage where the end is unknown.
It’s a trek where the compass guides you forward, but sometimes you don’t trust the direction you are heading.
Will I fall off the edge of the Earth?
WHAT IF?
“What if” is the tweet the birds chirp from the sky.
The path around the next bend leads where?
What about the rain and the snow?
Why are no signs written in English?
Armed with the temerity of John Wayne, and the blind belief of an apostle, the pugnacious Pilgrim steps across the land.
Step by laborious step, the pilgrim travels 10 and 15 miles a day.
She pulls into new locations that are known only to a select few and the postcard makers of Europe.
At sundown of each day, at the end of the endless road, the pilgrim discovers a new town, a new vista, a new revelation.
Sometimes it was a Youth Hostel full of bed bugs and a unisex showers.
Sometimes it was a hotel room where this pilgrim could wash her two shirts and three pairs of socks in the sink.
775 km? That’s 480 miles of trudging and soul searching. That’s a lot of time to let your own thoughts rumble around your own skull.
What does the universe say to you while you walk the path listening to books on tape?
This pilgrim has been gone for more than a month taking days off only if the forecast called for 90 percent precipitation which is the equivalent of 100 percent aggravation.
She tells me of horror stories from the camino.
She describes travelers with blisters so bad they have to be sewn shut. She tells me of pilgrims with bed bugs and skin rashes so awful, they needed hospitalization. Other pilgrims have shin splints and sickness and exhaustion.
Walking 500 miles through rain and cold and heat is something most of us would never tolerate.
Today the pilgrim pulled into Santiago, the final stop on a road map of many stops.
Across the globe I could hear a champagne cork pop.
I heard the cheers and then I saw the smiles from 4,000 miles away.
I got a pilgrim video and a phone call and heard the joy in a voice that sounded like it was around the corner.
I watched the celebration from the cathedral.
It looked like Easter and Christmas wrapped up in one Holy Spirit going out of business sale.
“Wow” is all I could say.
Most people don’t have the guts to pull into the diamond lane on their way to work.
This pilgrim flew around the planet to begin a trek to another time and place.
It’s a soul search.
What you find is unique to the person walking the path.
For this tenacious pilgrim, the celebration in the cathedral is a time to cheer, to cry, to absolve oneself of all sins.
“I’d do it again,” the pilgrim says with glee in her voice.
Of this, I have no doubt.
To the Pilgrim who braved the camino, I salute you.
Hurry home.
Life’s Crazy™