October 18, 2002
Friday

San Juan de Ortega to Burgos

Before I finished packing, Inga again put salve on my shoulder. After that, she went to check on Rudy. One thing that I have really come to appreciate is that the pilgrims tend to look out for each other, even though they might have been total strangers the day before.

I went outside the monastery into the dark. There were a number of packs leaning against the wall but no one was in sight. Since the bar wouldn't open until 8, I knew where they would be. I pushed open the big wooden door and stepped into the kitchen where we had had the garlic soup. And sure enough, around the table were the others, drinking coffee from bowls rather than the typical small Spanish cup — now that's what a call a cup o' Joe!

After coffee, I said goodbye to Rufino. He was walking to Burgos which would be his last stop. Inga would meet him for a weekend in Burgos and then they would fly back to Frankfurt. They calculate that they have covered about one third of the way to Santiago and would continue on another time. I made him promise to send me an email via my web site when he got home. Then he set out for his last stretch in the dark.

Not wanting to walk in the dark, I hung around for some time. During the night I had seen a van parked outside of the bar. I had seen it before in Belorado and was curious since the albergues don't permit pilgrims to be supported by a team driving in vehicles. This wasn't the case. The driver Helmet Radolf is the president of the Sankt Jacobs Bruderschaft (Austrian Confraternity of Saint James) and works in conjunction with the Austrian Red Cross and the Spanish Cruz Roja. His van was a regular little clinic with oxygen, medicines, and other first aid equipment. It seems that twice a year he rides back and forth along the camino picking up injured pilgrims and transporting them to the next albergue. Inga, as well as Rudy, would ride to Burgos with him in the van. (It's comforting to know there is this kind of safety net.)

We exchanged business cards and I asked him if there were many problems each year. Other than foot, ankle, or knee problems, seldom anything serious. Occasionally during the hot weather there might be some heat exhaustion problems, but not if the pilgrims took their time. There were two deaths due to stroke last year, but that was considered very unusual.

When the bar opened at 8, I joined Rudy and Inga for coffee where I said goodbye to them both and wished them luck. Before long Helmut was honking the van's horn, anxious to get started.

I left as the sun was beginning to light up the church. About a kilometer from the pueblo, the path veered up through a forest. It was obvious that the forest had been planted because all the trees were in straight rows and perfect columns — kind of weird, actually. In several places the path had big puddles and lots of mud, so I walked along the forest floor. It was there that I saw something for the first time — frost. I thought to myself, next time I had better drag out my gloves.