Tired But Richer for the Camino
Tired but Richer for the Camino
by James Sladack | Montgomery, TX
Eleven years ago, I walked the Camino Francés with three old Army buddies. Around the 380-mile mark, my daughter telephoned. “Dad, mom is in the ICU. Come home at once.”
After ten years of caring for her, my wife died in October 2023. I needed a challenge to reset myself physically and spiritually. I thought, “I have ‘unfinished business’ with the Camino.”
At age 76, I was inspired to make a shorter Camino and planned to ship my heavy backpack forward each day. Walking from Porto, Portugal, to Santiago de Compostela, Spain, seemed the optimum solution. Could my body handle the Camino Portugués?
I telephoned a friend I’d known since grade school but with whom I hadn’t spoken in a decade. A back injury forced him to withdraw from the earlier Camino.
“Jim,” he said eerily. “I am walking in the woods outside of Pittsburgh. I was thinking about you when you called.” He added that his wife had just died three months earlier after a debilitating decline. We were two old widowers with similar histories.
“I was wondering what to do to reboot,” he said. “I will go on a Camino with you.”
“Great,” I said. “You have one year to get in shape.”
The universe, it would appear, often teases us with a sense of humor. I underwent an unexpected full shoulder replacement seven months before we departed. All my training was upended. My walks dipped from seven miles per day to one. But as the organizer, I could not drop out. My convalescence compounded the challenge. Time to harness my mind like a one-pointed blade.
I invited 35 people, knowing most would eventually decline. Ten remained faithful and flew to Portugal. Five were in their late 70s. Paul’s son and his girlfriend, from New York City signed on to hike with Paul. Two of Bobby’s daughters intercepted us in Tui; one bringing her six-year-old son. Suzzane and Shirley, widows from Gainesville, sprinkled the ashes of their husbands as they walked. Sue from Buffalo, a mountaineer, set the pace. On one uphill climb along a creek bed strewn with boulders, we were feeling sorry for ourselves. Unexpectedly, a young German mother, pushing an enormous stroller with her 3-year-old son inside, appeared! She filled us with awe and determination.
It rained on our last day. The wet and chill made us push harder. We all reached the Santiago cathedral and collected our Compostelas. Everyone was tired but richer for the Camino.
