Day 12
Got to bed and up early today and first out the door to Molina Seca.
The walk up to Cruz de Fierro was beautiful as I walked by twilight for the first 45 minutes or so with the sun peaking over the eastern horizon just as I arrived to Foncebadon, a sort of “alpine village” where I had breakfast.
The breakfast was all granolas, yogurt and fruits, and there was Indian music and incense burning inside the place. I sat on the patio, but when I went in for a refill on coffee I met John, a Methodist preacher who did the English scripture reading at vespers the evening before.
He started speaking to me in broken Spanish because he thought I was a native speaker.
I met he and his daughter and daughter in law, all doing the camino together. We talked a bit about the Methodist tradition, about the churches of Christ, and about the new reformation going on. His daughter attends a reformed congregation in Oklahoma City, part of the Acts 29 movement. We’ve been running into each other quite a bit since then.
After wrapping up breakfast I made my way up to the Cruz de Fierro, an important day for me, as my good friend that I walked with last time had taken my rock there for me when I was unable to finish the camino in 2013.
I suppose it’s the sense of community that we as finite image bearers of God were meant to live in, where we bear each other’s burdens and support each other along our respective paths.
I was very grateful to be able to bring my friends rock to the cross this time, and “complete the circle,” in a sense… bringing closure to and continuity to caminos past and present.
I was feeling strong that morning, thankfully, because the decent down the mountain was no small feat.
Four or five km into the decent I passed by the famous landmark with the various signs pointing out kilometers to cities access the world, including the 5k kilometers to Jerusalem sign.
After that point it seemed like crossing the grapevine and descending from the equivalent of Castaic to Bakersfield along a dry and winding boulder filled creek bed… the experience was draining for sure.
Just when I felt the last bit of energy wane, after stopping to take shade under a scrub oak and allow some body heat to transfer into a shaded boulder, I realized that the cold riverfront at Molina Seca was just around the bend and down the mountain.
I got to the waterfront, almost crawling, and took a small nap under a tree before making it down to the water to cool my feet.
After that, I powered it to the Albergue at the end of town, Santa Marinas, and got in my shower and nap.
After my nap I scooted down the main strip to a nice waterfront restaurant and opted to dine alone upstairs in the air conditioned dining room full of local relics such as currency, traditional clothing, and the like. I tried to eat as much as I could, but my appetite has been limited… mostly craving fruit, water, juice, and coke light
When I got back from dinner, the attic room was still cooking, in spite of us all opening windows to create a breeze. I went downstairs to try and make a few calls ok the shoddy wifi connection and then went back upstairs to turn it in for the night.
When I got back up to the room I noticed the gentleman in te bunk next to me looked like Gandalf, only with a dark tan and in a speedo. I had seen him a few stages earlier and he looked semi homeless… his backpack was just a basic hand me down and his stuff sacks were grocery bags as opposed to the wealthy pilgrims REI set up.
For whatever the reason, I had a little difficulty going to sleep next to speedo clad Gandalf, so I just put my headphones in and listened to the minor prophets on my uversion audio bible while staring into space trough the skylight above my bed. I could also hear what sounded like wild dogs in the distance, echoing throughout the little valley around Molina Seca.
