Day X: Belorado -> Atapuerca; 19.1mi.

🛏:

La Hutte Albergue, 5€.

🍴 & 🎒:

Anticipating some pretty significant elevation gain and no town for miles in the middle of our day, we opted to pick up lunch items at a grocery store and reward ourselves to a “picnic” at the top of the elevation gain. I was ridiculously giddy about this prospect. I hadn’t had a picnic in ages (or at least used the terminology, turns out it’s just a fancy way of saying “eat outside” if you aren’t carrying an official picnic blanket in your 20lb backpack. Regardless, it didn’t disappoint and it got me up the hill).

My resourceful backpacking-guide sister wraps duct tape around her Nalgene to create a portable duct tape role. I thought it was genius and had her pick me out a fun pattern to bring along (also featuring a Seattle-brewery sticker from my pen pal). I’ve been partial to Nalgenes ever since elementary school when my cousin performed a series of tests to display their durability and concluded by giving me my very own “indestructible” water bottle.

Thoughts after 10 days of walking: Since I’ve started this journey, I’ve become (semi)proficient in kilometers and celsius. I’ve learned how to efficiently complete laundry in the shower. I’ve found myself using phrases I never thought I’d use such as “we only have 10 kilometers (6.2mi) of walking to go” and “today was a short day (14.3 miles).” I’ve pet every dog that will allow me to pet it. The mornings always seem to be the hardest. I’ve laughed until I’ve cried. I’ve cried. I’ve looked at pictures of my dog at least twenty times (a day) and jumped at the chance to show them to anyone who seems a tiny bit interested in him (or anyone who ends up sitting near me at dinner). I’ve missed home most of the time and other times I think I might stay here forever. I’ve given up my once coveted top bunk purely because my feet are too tired to climb up and down the ladder. I’ve begun telling multiple strangers my life story until they suddenly weren’t a stranger anymore and I learn a little bit extra about myself each time. I’ve listened to multiple once-strangers life stories and now have inside jokes with them and know their children’s names. I’ve made friends from countries I barely knew anything about when I started and have inherently added a monster list of places I want to visit to my bucket list. I’ve read poetry. I’ve drank tea. I’ve eaten paella. I’ve forced myself back into writing and it’s been the best thing. I’ve thought through my life a million times over and been gifted new perspectives from the once-strangers mentioned above. I’ve been reminded countless times that although my story is unique it doesn’t mean there aren’t people who can relate to what I’m going through an uncanny amount (and vice versa). I’ve thought of people I haven’t thought of in years and tried my best not to think of a few others (that part doesn’t work). I’ve missed people I didn’t expect to miss and I haven’t missed people I did expect to miss. I’ve gotten blisters on blisters. I’ve adopted an unexpected love for hiking poles. Also, I’ve wondered what I’m doing approximately forty-seven times (a day) and simultaneously can’t imagine myself anywhere else.

🎧:

This. We’ve been listening to the audiobook version of this book together here and there over the past ten days and finished it today. Amy Poehler reads it herself, adds commentary and has fun guests read some of the sections. I can’t recommend it it enough. (It also made me want to sit on the couch and re-watch Parks & Recreation from start to finish the minute I get home).

“The only way we will survive is by being kind. The only way we can get by in this world is through the help we receive from others. No one can do it alone, no matter how great the machines are.” – Amy Poehler