Going Solo

I slept great last night. The mattress offered some support and the temperature in the room was perfect. I woke up refreshed and enjoyed a solid breakfast. I had a long day ahead, so I started out by 8:00 a.m.. As I left town, the view of the castle became more impressive.

The route was pretty easy to find and traveled along the river, which was serene. Unfortunately within 15 minutes the trail passed by the local sewage treatment plant, piercing the serenity. On the plus side, the path was upwind today.

I saw no other hikers today until the last few miles. It was a good thing. So much of the journey has been occupied with trying to find my way and not fall off some type of rock outcropping that there's been little time to relax and reflect.  Today there was plenty of time for both as I walked through fields of wheat and canola flowers. It felt reminiscent of the Meseta in Spain on the Camino.

Occasionally the route would travel through muddy areas and then out onto a road here and there. I was 12 miles in when I finally found a place in the shade to sit down. That’s where I met Fiona and John, a pair of beekeepers who are moving some of their 22 hives to new fields for pollination. We visited for about ten minutes, discussing the ecosystem and the importance of bees. As Fiona talked about the personalities of different hives, her passion for the work was obvious.

There were a few odd things to see along the way. There were fewer sheep in the fields and more cows, and it was one of those days when you could smell the cows before you could see them. One Highland Cow looked like something out of a Hobbit movie. 

Signage was poor or non-existent. I managed to walk an extra three quarters of a mile, missing the turnoff to a spot they call “the witches gate.” It has been decorated in Halloween mode for more than a decade. Because I was so intent on following the path, when I looked up and saw the rats on the fence, it startled me.

Having the opportunity to introspect was good. I started thinking about how people identified themselves on the trail. We would all say things like "I was a truck driver" or "I was an engineer," or "I was a doctor." The concept of discarding our professions and what we invested so much time to achieve somehow irked me. I'm trying to figure out exactly how to phrase things. Being a pilot for more than 40 years is part of who I am now. There must be a better way of expressing the accumulated experience of our lives.  

I was almost within sight of my bed and breakfast for the night when I encountered one last obstacle. Without an overpass, underpass, or marked pedestrian crossing, hikers were required to cross four lanes of highway. I had to remind myself to look right, instead of left, to cross the closest lanes.  Nobody slowed down to accommodate me. I had to wait a few minutes for a gap in traffic to get to a median, and then wait there until traffic moving in the opposite direction was clear.

My b&b is comfortable, and after I hit the shower I went down to the only restaurant in the area. At the Blue Bell Inn I ran into several hikers I’d seen over the previous days. Most of them had damage to their feet. A few were even in the restaurant barefoot because they couldn't take the pain of putting on shoes. Whether it's good equipment or simply good luck, I remain blister free. Another reason for gratitude today, aside from the beautiful scenery.