Wanderstoecke

Aleix and I agree, the Fench and Germans rise way too early. 0500, donned in headlamps, one by one the French quietly rise, dress, pack out. As careful as they are, the rustling can't be shut out, even with ear plugs in. It doesn't take long before everyone is up, packing out. The French depart way ahead of us. Josef, Angelo and I say our goodbyes and leave as well. Angelo breaks out ahead and Josef and I make our way to breakfast. We find Angelo at the nearest cafe and soon Aleix, Gregor, and Ina join us. We enjoy coffee by the river, snap off a few more photos, and again say our farewells. We will of course see them again. 

Wunderschonen guten morgen. Beautiful morning. The six of us come together again in a small town and trek on to Pamplona together. The path is fairly level, uneventful, and increasingly more urban. Gregor and I have a chance to talk and I ask him about his , wanderstoecke how he likes them, if they are of use. He tells me he read about them and decided to try them. They reduce the amount of foot pounds of pressure by thirty percent. I am the only one in the pack without the benefit of walking sticks. In the days before, I noticed how advantageous they appeared to be. Most using them were able to traverse the diverse terrain much easier than I due to increased stability. Many of them were able to trek much faster as well. I thought about them before the trip but decided against them; it was too late to be testing out something new.
The morning grows warm and soon we begin shedding our gear. Layer by layer is removed and shoved somehow into my already stuffed rucksack. The increased weight starts to take a toll on my body; my left knee begins to ache. As we move through town there is little I can do to ease the pain. It grows worse. The six of us break off from one another and Josef and I make it to Pamplona. The others will be stopping here but we will be staying in the next town, five kilometers away.
My knee is screaming by the time Josef and I get to Pamplona. We wander around the city to find a cafe with wifi. Josef stops at the Perish of Saint Cernin. He wants to go in. I recall something Gregor said last night, "The Camino is about pain and suffering." I think I'm at the crossroads of pain and suffering now so walking into a cathedral seems as appropriate as a hospital at this point. Inside is...Wunderschonen. I am in awe.

I set down my pack and sit quietly after grabbing an English version of The Pilgrim Prayer.

Lord, you who called your servant Abraham out of the town or Ur in Chaldea and who watched over him during all his wandering so; you who guided the jewish people through the desert; we also ask you to watch over us, your servants, who for love of your name, make this pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. 

Be for us, The companion on our journey, the guide at our crossroads, our strength in our fatigue, our fortress in danger, our place of rest on the way, our shelter from the heat, our light in the darkness, our consolation in discouragement and the perseverance of our intention.

So that under your guidance, safely and unhurt, may reach the end of our journey and strengthened with grace and virtue, secure and filled with happiness, may return to our home. Through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.

Now would be a good time for my come to Jesus moment. I wait. Then, with an open mind and open heart, I break out the baby aspirin and take two. Josef and I depart in search for coffee. We enter The Cookie Shop and order our usual: cappuccino and decaf Americano. Josef asks me via Google Translate how long I've had this issue. "Never," I said. Tears stream uncontrollably from my eyes. This could be the end for me. I gather my thoughts and find some willingness. Now wanderstoecke  is a must, as is unloading whatever I can toss. I let go of a few things and the barista points out the nearest gear shop. My knee appreciates the rest and a little less weight. We walk into the store and ask for walking sticks. The young man shows me a pair; only 11 Euro per stick. I'm shocked at the price. "That's it?" I inquire. Then he shows me the best pair they have. They feel like titanium; unbelievably light. "85 euro," the clerk says hesitantly. "Perfect, I'll take them." I am so grateful Josef is with me; he sets them for me, shows me how to hold them, then how to use them. My wanderstoecke coach!

We make our way to Cizur Menor, five kilometers past Pamplona. The walking sticks provide immediate relief though damage has been done, undoubtedly. We are nearly the first at the albergue to arrive. The ritual begins: shower, laundry, wifi connection, recharge phone, relax. The sun is out and feels spectacular. The albergue slowly fills up. Everyone is basking quietly in the sun, reading, journaling, napping. We are all waiting for pilgrim dinner at 1900. Then off to bed to trek another day to Santiago...