We knew we were facing a tough day and the sky was looking rather overcast. As we checked out of the hostel, we noted a card for transport services for backpacks. Stella and I were more than a little interested. Note that we are wearing shorts, mostly because of the weather we had experienced the day before. We will learn that one can not judge the weather by the day before!
It turned out that the sherpa services are Caroline, the same person who had been our shuttle driver the day before. We tried to contact her, but with no luck, so we were just starting out up the mountain, when suddenly, who should drive up, but Caroline, on her way up to the other alburgue about 1.5 km further up the mountain. We flagged her down. She highly advised against her taking our bags due to inclement weather expected on the mountain, but for Stella and I, that was all the more reason TO do it! So I quickly grabbed all that I thought I would need for the day, including my windbreaker, but not my poncho, which was too far down, and stuffed it into the small canvas bag (my carry-on for the airline) and slung that over my shoulders. Caroline was not happy, but she took our bags and agreed to drop them off at Roncevalles, on the other side of the mountain. Mary, meanwhile, looked on, with no qualms about shouldering her bag. I didn't know how much my bag weighed, but I knew it was over 20 lbs. Mary's was somewhere around 15 and Stella's was probably about 17 (to get lighter and lighter as she left things behind along the Camino!).
Talking about challenging, today was probably the most physically challenging of the trip, though others will be challenging for duration and heat. Today we did about 19km, mostly upwards and some very steep, between Hunnto and Roncevalles, so we are now back in Spain. While yesterday, I was really glad to see the gite at Hunnto, words cannot describe the joy at seeing the monastery today about 2 pm at Roncevalles after starting out at 730 this morning at Hunnto!
About 1.5 km after Hunnto was another alburgue, Orisson.
We stopped there for a brief break and to get sandwiches to take with us, because it was the last inhabited place between there and Roncevalles.
Wild horses and ponies gather around this refugio, mostly looking for food handouts. 
There are two kinds of the horses/ponies - wild and farmers'. You can tell them apart because some have bridles on. We saw them a number of times before we got too far up the mountain. 
Just knowing that there are 17 km of non-inhabited land ahead of us is enough to give one pause for thought! All of the land between is prime grazing land for herds of cattle, sheep and horses and that has first priority over human habitation. Surprisingly, there were a number of vehicles, though. It was difficult, but lovely views for a little while. Then, as we got higher and higher, the fog set in. And then mist, which turned into light rain, and a little wind. I so wished tht I had pulled out my poncho, but I still would have been wet to the bone in my shorts and boots. It was rather miserable for quite a while. Visibility was down to about 50 feet or so, so there were absolutely no views to be had. The only choice was to keep going. About two-thirds of the way up the mountain, the path takes a turn off a more defined trail for a more rugged, rustic path. At this point, there is a well-known arrow marker so that (hopefully) pilgrims won't miss it. It is sort of a point to say, "Yea, we just might make it yet!" So, since some other hikers were with us, we took the photo op!
You have to learn to walk at your own pace on the Camino, and while Stella was often fastest at the uphills, I had, in general, the fastest pace. I would have been just as uncomfortable trying to slow down and stay with Mary who was next closest behind me somewhere in the fog, or Stella, further back, as either of them would have been trying to keep up with me. I have always been a fast walker, and, in my running days, a relatively fast runner with a long stride for my leg length. So as a result, I lost them in the fog and mist and had only myself and unseen herds of sheep for companionship for much of the time...
[Did I leave you hanging? Sorry, haven´t had internet access for the last couple days and now I am limited by the only euro I have in my pocket. Still haven´t found wifi to be able to download pictures from my computer, just internet access in the refugios/alburgues where we are staying that look a lot like old computer game terminals. ]
Anyway, the day on the mountain was arduous, but pretty neat in some ways. Like being challenged beyond your limits and meeting the challenge. For the most part, I was in a world by myself, except when I happened along some other pilgrim or occasionally someone passed me - there are a number of folks who walk faster! The fog closed to within 30 or less feet of visibility at times, as we climbed higher, and the hood of my jacket kept me from seeing much of the woods around me. There were the occasional sounds of birds - real cuckoos before we got up too far (they´re not just for clocks anymore!) The climb up was rather brutal. I waited somewhere for Mary and Stella to catch up and we crossed into Spain near the top of the peak just as the landscaped changed to a very weird, gray, slaggy, slate-like, other-worldly place. It was almost like something out of a horror or sci-fi movie. There were call boxes on posts every so many feet with numbers on the posts. These were so if pilgrims got stranded in really bad weather, they could call for help. Somewhere, we passed our first marker to a pilgrim who had died on the mountain because he couldn't be rescued in time. A sobering thought.
On the way down the mountain, there were places where there were seasons upon seasons of leaves piled upon each other and it was rather fun walking on them. It was odd being in a world by myself (Stella and Mary were somewhere behind me again), not the sound of another human invention (plane,train or automobile) or being.
Interesting things take on colors in this world of drizzly grays and browns, like this lizard, who was a sharp black and yellow. It was rather mystical, but my field of vision was so limited by the hood of my jacket and looking downward, out of the rain, that I felt a little cheated, walking through a world that I wanted to see more of, but couldn´t quite. Everything was so still, yet so alive, so quiet, yet so in the moment, if that makes any sense. Every drip of rain was important. I was colder and wetter than anytime I could remember since I had been a child playing in the snow. I walked on and on, alone, but not alone, aware that I was being watched over, not just by God, but by the woods, by creatures that had their eyes on me. Eventually, I worked my way down out of the mist and clouds to a long series of hair pin curves. I finally linked up with other pilgrims - Livia and Alesandra from Milano, a couple from Germany and some others. With them, I started following some of the short cuts. The last part of the journey, about 20 minutes perhaps, was through a beautiful wooded stretch.
We came to a place where there was a monument, and then a small church, and then finally, we rounded a turn and there, at last, was a view of the gray tiles of the monastery. We all cheered spontaneously. I arrived in Roncevalles about an hour before Stella and Mary, so I got checked in, found Stella's and my backbacks (glad to spend the 8 euros, but Caroline had been right about the weather!), settled into a bunk in the huge alburgue and began to explore a bit. The alburgue was in a large building (sleeping 100 pilgrims in bunk beds all in one room!) with thick stone walls. The main monastery is constructing a large wing to match the original building to expand their capacity. The doors of the alburgue closed at 10, and when late arriving pilgrims knocked on the door, they were not let in (the place was full anyway), rules are rules! There was a small gift shop in the monastery, and I rewarded myself for the day's journey with an artisan milk chocolate bar with almonds! I don't think the monks made it, but I'd like to think I was helping them out a little bit!
There was a service in the abbey that evening which was beautiful. It was a communion service to welcome and bless all of the pilgrims, and even though it was a Roman Catholic service, all of us participated. I don't think God sees the same lines as we do. The priest, knowing that there were people there of all different persuasions said something to the effect, that one day, we would all eat at the same table, and I understood him to invite everyone, so we went. As part of the service, it was read out how many pilgrims had registered from what country that day, and whether they were on foot (a pie), on a bike (a bici), or on horseback (a caballo). A lot of pilgrims start in Roncevalles, rather than do the mountain which we had just crossed. It felt like quite an accomplishment already, but it also felt wonderful to be continuing on with such a special blessing.
We had dinner at one of the two little restaurants, La Sabina. I had leek soup, wonderful roasted, stuffed red peppers in a sauce, and (oddly, we thought) little, store-bought yogurts for dessert. I didn't sleep too well, since I'm not used to listening to the sounds of 100 other people, and especially the Swedish woman in the next bunk who snored loudly ALL night! But, in the morning, we were awakened in the most delightful way at 6 am. First, there were light chimes.
Then, the big rings of lights (not bright lights, just imagine rings like in old castles, suspended from the ceiling) were turned on. Then, the volunteer host circled among the bunk beds singing a beautiful Alleluia in his lovely bass voice. Afterwards, as people were doing the usual shuffling of packs and all, he turned on a CD that included music and natural sounds of bird calls and wind in trees. It was lovely beginning to a morning.
