When I walked the Camino for the first time back in 2018, and it was a really big deal for me.
First off, the Camino de Santiago was my first long-distance hike that ventured further than 150 miles. Sure, I hiked the 100-mile section of the Appalachian Trail that ran through Shenandoah National Park all by myself in 2016. And I’d hiked the Grand Canyon rim-to-rim-to-rim with my best friend in 2017. So I knew I had the physical ability to be successful. But I’d never walked 500+ miles before, and so I had a lot to learn.
The Camino was also my first international backpacking trip without the benefit of any sort of guide. My prior forays into carrying my pack in a foreign country included things like climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. Those trips gave someone else the responsibility for finding our way from point A to point B. I was just along for the ride with their pre-planned itinerary. By contrast, the Camino would require me to do all the navigating. If I got lost, I’d just have to figure it out and/or ask a stranger for directions (in a foreign language).
But perhaps, most importantly, my first Camino was special because came at a pivotal time in my life when I needed time alone to reflect on my life and future. I was leaving a 20+ year career and venturing into something new. The basic routines of my life were changing. For the first time in my adult life, I needed to figure out what my identity and purpose was without my military career dominating the conversation.
And so, walking the 500-mile Camino Frances (from St. Jean Pied-de-Port, France to Santiago de Compestela, Spain) and then continuing on to the 50-mile Camino Finisterre (from Santiago to the Atlantic Ocean) in October 2018 was a huge event in my life.
In the end, I experienced the tremendous personal growth. There were ups and downs along the way, for sure. I felt every possible emotion and then some. In a single day, I could go from happy to sad, to frustrated, to overjoyed, to exhausted, and so much more. But I also acquired much of the mental clarity and transformation that I went to the Camino seeking that autumn.
As time passed, my memories of the Camino only grew fonder. I no longer remembered the blisters on my feet or the sore muscles. All the difficulties I experienced during my journey were now transformed into anecdotes that I shared with other hikers. All told, it was a great adventure.
Camino redux
If you asked me about my hiking plans back in January, the word “camino” was the last thing you would have heard be utter.
My hiking season was full of brand new adventures. I planned to thru-hike the 800-mile Arizona Trail in the Spring, then climb to the summits of Oregon’s and Washington’s highest mountains (Mt. Hood and Mt. Rainier, respectively).
As I got into the summer, I made plans to cycle/bikepack on the 335-mile C&O Canal Towpath and Great Allegheny Passage, attend the 2022 Highpointer’s Convention in Pennsylvania, and then head out on Wyoming for a 9-day backcountry hike into the Wind River Range so I could climb Gannett Peak (the state’s highest mountain).
After those adventures, I planned to meet up with a fellow hiker in Utah to re-attempt the Uinta Highline Trail (and perhaps redeem myself after my 2020 failed bid to complete the trail). Then I’d close out the season with a solo thru-hike on the 500-mile Colorado Trail.
Some of these grand adventures came to fruition, but others hit the cutting room floor. I had to bail on the Uinta Highline Trail due to some unforeseen circumstances. Plus, some soul searching convinced me that I really needed to prioritize some family events in August rather that going off on another solo hike in Colorado that month.
And that’s where the Camino comes back into play. While I was on the Arizona Trail this past spring, I crossed paths with another thru-hiker named Mad Max. He’d hiked several of the various Camino routes with his wife, and we started swapping memories.
Those conversations stuck with me, and I began to ponder whether I might do another Camino somewhere down the line. Would I want to re-hike the Camino Frances? Or would I try a different route – like the Camino Primativo or Camino del Norte or Camino Portuguese?
By the summertime, I’d made up my mind. I was going to head back to Spain and hike the Camino del Norte. I was already heading to Europe for the first two weeks in September (for a non-hiking adventure). Why not just extend my return home to give myself a month to hike across Spain once again??
Camino del norte
I know this upcoming adventure on the Camino is going to be radically different than my journey back in 2018. After all, I’m a completely different person than I was back then. I’m a stronger and more confident hiker.
I have my first Camino under my belt, so (hopefully) there will be less culture shock or fumbling for what to do. The albergues (pilgrim hostels) are no longer a foreign concept to work around. I know all a bit more about the food and language. I suspect it will be more like revisiting a familiar place than landing in a strange new world.
But I still desire for this Camino to be different and challenging. I don’t want to walk the same route and try to recapture all the highlights of my original journey across Spain. And that’s why I’m opting to hike the 840-kilometer Camino del Norte this time around.
The Camino del Norte is similar in distance my prior adventure on the Camino Frances, but it passes through a different part of the country entirely. I won’t hike over the Pyrenees, through the Rioja wine region, across the dry Meseta plateau (agricultural heartland), and through major Spanish cities like Pamplona, Burgos, and León.
This time, I’ll follow the country’s northern coast along the Bay of Biscay and Cantabrian Sea. My plan is to begin at the French border town of Hendaye and walk west into Spain, following the coastline through the mountains of the Basque Country, into scenic Cantabria and Asturias, and through major sea ports and beach towns like San Sebastián, Bilbao, Santander, and Gijón.
Rather than grape vineyards and bullfighting dominating the culture, the Camino del Norte will take me into surfing towns, past the iconic Guggenheim Museum, and into the cider-making region of northern Spain. Plus, there’s all that gorgeous coastline to walk along.
Thus, I’m hoping for a completely new Camino experience in 2022, but one that’s seasoned with many of the familiar traditions and rituals of my last walk through Spain. Things like meeting the other pilgrims and returning to common the sense of purpose brought on from traveling toward the same goal (Santiago). Or hiking in temperate weather as summer gives way to autumn, and ending the day with a glass of sangria or Tempranillo wine.
But most of all, I just look forward to walking.