Rocks On The Road
Spain is full of rocks – at least that part of Spain between Roncesvalles and León where Jen and her crew spend the first two weeks of her pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. On one day, there are so many rocks on our path that the route is impassable even for Jen’s jogger, and it takes all six of us to lift Jen and the jogger in the air so she can make it through the rock-strewn gully.
Everywhere, there are rocks.
As we roll and trudge our way through the hot and arid landscape on the first 10 days of Jen’s journey, we marvel at the farm fields beside our path that are so littered with rocks that it seems a miracle that they can produce anything good at all.
Yet they do.
There are vineyards heavy with fruit that produce the delicious wine we enjoy with our meals. There are olive groves with lovely green leaves and olive oil for dipping our bread or tiny plates of seasoned olives with tapas. There are potatoes served in delicious frittatas for breakfast and fried in chunks with spicy sauces for lunch. There are fields upon fields of glorious sunflowers, which we learn are being grown for oil, but pilgrims sometimes adjust to send messages of encouragement and love. There are fences, bridges, houses, churches, chapels, and cathedrals, all made of rock.
Some of our favourite places, like the hotel in Roncesvalles or a tiny abbey in Eskirotz, have courtyards and foyers paved with oblong rocks set in beautiful patterns. In León, the large courtyard across from the converted monastery where we are staying is paved with rocks. Hard to roll a wheelchair there, but amazing to see the ingenuity and handiwork of generations that have gone before.
There have been rocks in Jen’s road too. Ten years ago, her plans for work and relationships and fun were derailed by a car crash. This pilgrimage, and the effort that it takes to move Jen and all her people and gear along an ancient path, is not without rocky patches. Our flight to Spain is delayed – multiple times. Getting Jen’s crate – with her jogger, trike, and supplies – out of customs and into our cargo van, takes much longer and is more complicated than we expected. Buying gas for the first time, driving, parking, and shifting gears in a country with very few level roads is stressful. Navigating directions with minimal signage, narrow streets, and roundabouts that can easily send us in the wrong direction mean we spend more time going in circles than we want and less time visiting the monasteries or cathedrals we pass along the way. Finding food that Jen can eat, in a region of Spain that we learn is not accustomed to preparing or eating “sopa” (soup), proves challenging. Heat, and lack of shade, and creating a cohesive team from people who all know and love Jen and her parents but don’t know each other that well takes commitment and patience and good humour. There are too many blisters, but not enough “baños” (washrooms) or toilet paper when we want them.
And yet, there is so much beauty and goodness. We do find our way to our hiking points and accommodations each day. We learn how to ask restaurant kitchens to puree food or which grocery stores are likely to have the prepared soups, soft cheeses, and gazpacho that Jen enjoys. The logistics that were meticulously prepared by Janette and Harold in advance are unfolding better than could have been expected. Our daily meditations add encouragement and meaning to our movement through the landscape. We are thrilled with the scenery and the way Jen smiles at other pilgrims and covers the kilometres on her trike. There are blessings from priests and nuns and other pilgrims on the path with us. A bespectacled Jen gazes with rapture at ancient architecture and clay-roofed towns on hills in the distance. She laughs at jokes and is quick to accept another pilgrim’s offer of a beer at the next taberna. She works hard each day to cover the distance, and we see daily evidence that what she is accomplishing is having an impact – both on people we meet on the trail and those who are following and encouraging from afar. Perhaps even more important than Jen reaching Santiago are the people she is reaching with the message that not even a traumatic brain injury can permanently rob you of community, purpose, and joy.
There may be rocks in the road, but like wine and cathedrals, Jen is turning them into something big and beautiful, and it feels like we are witnessing a miracle. For members of her crew, it’s an honour to be part of this effort and to see the beauty and inspiration that rocks can provide.
Marlene Bergsma
