September 22, 2018
- Route: Rabinal del Camino to Ponferrada
- Distance: 31.8 kilometers (19.72 miles)
I didn’t realize how tight my calves had gotten until the massage therapist started working on them yesterday. He had to keep reminding me to relax because I’d flinch whenever he started to rub them deeply.
I felt so much better afterwards, and couldn’t believe walking through the mostly flat meseta could impact my legs quite so dramatically. Then again, I suppose it’s foreseeable that walking 20 miles each day is bound to have a noticeable effect on one’s body…especially when you aren’t doing a very good job remembering to stretch each day.
Back to the Mountains
The Camino returned me to the mountains yesterday. It was a slow gradual climb from Astorga, and this morning’s journey would continue that trend, climbing to about 4,500 feet elevation at Alto de Cerezales. It was a truly beautiful hike, with lots of juniper and pines along a nicely groomed path the entire way up.
The route rambled and weaved its way through the hills, past cattle farms and wildflowers. I walked passed beside ruins of old buildings, and off in the distance, white windmills dotted the top of the ridge line capturing the swift winds that silently turned their turbines.
It’s amazing how much a change of scenery can alter and improve your perspective of a hike. Seeing the same backdrop repeatedly can get really old. So, the variety of this landscape was welcomed with new eyes, and my morale soared this morning.
Going Downhill
Although I savored the climbs and views after so many days of flat, yellow farm fields – what goes up will inevitably come back down. In this case, I found myself carefully maneuvering through the rocky descent on the backside of the foothills. During this steep grade, my knees screamed at me and I developed some significant pain on the balls of my feet.
With my body feeling a multitude of aches and pains from the downhill section, I settled on an extended break for lunch in Molinaseca. A tall cool glass of beer was calling my name, and I even kicked off my shoes to let my feet stretch out for the next hour while enjoying some local food in the shade. I feel like I’m finally learning to pace myself and accept my limits so I don’t walk myself right into an injury.
Roadwalking
Of course, my restful lunch in Molinaseca meant I didn’t depart town until around 1:20 pm. The sun was high in the sky and blazing for the next two hours, and the majority of the route between Molinaseca and Ponferrda sucked big time. At first the route followed sidewalks, then it turned to plain roadwalking.
I had fair warning in my Wise Pilgrim app that there was some paved walking ahead, but I hoped that there would be some sort of scenic alternative similar to what I’d encountered the past two days. The map showed the Camino forking about three kilometers out of Molinseca, but I soon discovered my options were equally grim regardless of which path I chose.
I could take the 7.8-kilometer Camino Frances route, which followed an old paved road into Ponferrada. Or, I could opt for an bypass, which skipped the small towns on the way to Ponferrada. The alternate route was slightly shorter in distance, but it ran along a busier highway with lots of vehicle traffic buzzing by. So it was pretty much a lose-lose proposition. This afternoon would be spend doing the much dreaded roadwalk regardless of which route I chose.
I’m sure some people wonder, “what the big deal with roadwalking?” After all, plenty of folks enjoy going for a stroll with their dog around their paved neighborhoods all the time. Why do hikers make such a fuss about walking on similar terrain? After all, it’s faster and easier to walk on these level, paved surfaces, right?
Here’s the scoop on why I (and so many other hikers) detest roadwalking:
- Cars. If can be completely nerve wrecking to share a narrow (or non-existent) shoulder of the road with distracted drivers just inches away from you.
- Pollution. Inhaling exhaust fumes or dust kicked up by cars driving down on dirt roads isn’t anyone’s idea of fresh air.
- Trash. Trash tends to gather in the drainage ditches alongside the roads, and looking at burrito wrappers and old beer cans isn’t a great addition to the hiking experience.
- Foot & Joint tenderness. After walking on softer dirt paths for miles, your feet get used to having the pliable ground to absorb your steps. The transition back to a hard, paved surface dramatically increases the impact on your feet, knees, and ankles.
- Blisters & Hot spots. Hot surfaces (like asphalt) can translate to warmer feet. As your feet begin to sweat or swell with that heat, it creates additional friction inside your shoes, and can lead to blisters and hot spots.
- Noise. The close proximity to cars, trucks, buses and loud motorcycles (my personal nemesis) obliterates the sounds of nature. Carrying on a conversation with a hiking partner can be a constant challenge due to the frequent interruptions. And forget about getting lost in a podcast or audiobook; it’s near impossible.
Unfortunately, the Camino Frances has lots of roadwalking to endure, and today was a reminder of that reality.
A traditional hostel
On the plus side, the road allowed me to make my afternoon miles fairly quickly, and I made it into Ponferrada before 4 pm. As with most journey, I didn’t make any reservations at an albergue, so I was on the hunt for somewhere to spend the night. The city was much larger than I expected, and the first place I tried wasn’t an albergue. Instead, it was a hostel for typical backpackers traveling through Europe on vacation.
Staying in a more traditional hostel was a nice change of pace. For example, I met two lovely ladies from Tasmania who were winding up a month-long trip across Europe. I briefly traveled to Australia back in 2006, but I only had time to visit Sydney and Cairns. I’ve always wanted to return and see more of the southern part of country as well as the island of Tasmania.
While settling in, I peppered them with questions about their’s homeland’s climate, wildlife (apparently Tasmanian devils are more than just cartoon animals), and about the hiking there. It was such a pleasure to speak with other native English speakers, and they totally convinced me that Tasmania would be a great place to visit, especially in the wintertime (their hot season).
Ponferrada
With high spirits, I left the hostel in search of dinner and a small resupply for tomorrow’s journey. Exploring Ponferrada took quite a bit longer than most of the small towns I typically stop in. As the capital of the Briezo region, this was a proper city with about 65,000 residents, and it had every amenity a traveler could imagine.
Ponferrada also boasts a large Templar castle from the 12th or 13th century that seems straight out of a fairy tale. The town was an important settlement throughout the ages, due to its location at the junction of the Sil and Boeza rivers, so tourists and visitors flock here for a slice of history.
As I wandered through the streets in search of a grocery store, I stumbled upon a something I never expected to see on the Camino. A vintage Rolls Royce was parked outside a church right near the its front entrance.
I seriously doubt the Catholic Church is paying its priests enough to buy Rolls Royces, so what the heck was that car doing out there? It took me a minute to puzzle this mystery out. That’s when I realized it was Saturday afternoon. In all likelihood, the car was probably a fancy rental for a couple getting married inside.
I’ve so completely lost track of days out here on the Camino that I didn’t even realize it was the weekend. Perhaps it’s a sign you’re having a good travel experience when you stop counting (or even keeping track of) the days of the week!