What about the kids?/Ode to the Niñim

We could not have made our Camino de Santa Barbara without the help and support of our children. They were our biggest cheerleaders. And this, in spite of the fact that Covid scuppered their plans for the summer, as well as ours--goodbye to fun times with grandparents and camp activities; hello to more of isolating at home. I was blown away by their enthusiasm for and with us! What a gift.

We left them for eight walking days of various lengths. Each of our Camino days looked--for them-- like a modified version of a regular Saturday:

-Saturday morning "cartoons" from 7-9

-tasty breakfast

-An hour outside playing

-various chores and household helps

-lunch  & lunch cleanup

-afternoon reading/movie time

They kept the house reasonably tidy, the laundry folded, and the shenanigans to a minimum on the days we were away. No ER visits or malnutrition. On Day 2,  one of them accidentally upgraded our Hulu subscription by $50/month, but we were able to quickly resolve that. I've already mentioned how N. colluded with a neighbor to arrange a celebratory tapas feast on our first day. They were amazing.  

On our "rest days" we tried not to do much work but to be available. Actually the main reason we took "rest days" was in order to not abandon them for too long at once, and to be around for hanging out.

                                    

         

We also took some beach trips and had some movie nights. It's been a treat to rewatch Foyle's War, this time with the kids. Also, being home half of the time meant we could enforce a little structure so that things didn't get too out of hand. At one point on a rest day, C. accidentally called me and then immediately hung up early in the morning. I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and texted:

He followed up with this:

Who's busted now? On a hiking day, we would have already headed out by this point. I might have missed this excellent opportunity to let him take me down a notch.

Besides holding things together throughout the Camino, the kids planned an excellent welcome home at the end. There were signs and cards by them, along with balloons and flowers delivered by others during the day. There was another whole party after the one at the Mission!

C built a run-through for me through the doorway: the plan was for me to run through and break it like at the start of high school football games.

                                    

In case it isn't clear: That's me, plus "my" biceps=The Rock crying. 

                            

Ridiculously endearing. Obviously I ran gently through so as to not tear it up. W. also printed/painted a large welcoming sign:

Thank you, Neighbors

Thank you, padres

Sweet notes from the kids

 It's said that absence makes the heart grow fonder; in general I'm not sure that's worth the sadness the absence usually provokes. It is fair to say, though, that the combination of being away from the kids for extended periods combined with their awesomesauce attitudes throughout our Camino brings with it some deep affection. As a parent I'm used to playing cheerleader for our kids and trying to make things work out for them: it was an amazing and growing experience for us all to have all of that love and support flowing the other direction, too. So many thanks to the Niñim! Our camino was different and better because of the ways they were able to participate. ♡

Camino Finale--6/30/2020

From Home: to Montecito Peak & Camino Cielo: to the Tunnel Trailhead and down Rattlesnake Canyon: to the Santa Barbara Mission 

Representing Grandas de Salime to Fonsagrada...and also, of course, to Santiago de Compostela

On June 30 we walked our last leg of the Camino de Santa Barbara. We knew/hoped/planned that this would be the day to end all days: to "leave it all on the trail," as it were. Our farthest and highest day. 

Ultreia et Suseia!

I am so overdue in writing it up, I think, because then it will really be over. Also it was too much. It was a beautiful day.

On this day, we invited people who have walked with us on this journey to literally walk with us on the last leg. While some people had expressed interest or intent to meet us at the finale or walk the last hour or so with us, one friend met us at our house to start walking at 7am. She walked the first ten miles with us--most of that uphill--what a gift. THANK YOU K!

Getting warmed up about an hour in

Our turnaround point for spring training. +/- 2 hours in

Probably my very first post-cancer hike was with K in late 2016. Every year for her birthday she invites friends to join her for a hike up this very trail--to watch the sunrise from a beautiful vista point. I used to joke that was the only time I would get up early in the morning to hike. It used to be true! Hiking on K's birthday gave me hope that one day I'd be able to hike a little farther. It was a joy to have her along on this day, and to get to do the ascent to Montecito peak with her--on her first time to the top! 

Final ascent to the Peak: I was pulling myself up with my arms

On Montecito Peak!

The man almost always behind the camera

After descending Montecito Peak back to the trail, we continued up to Camino Cielo. It's not very far...but it still felt farther than I expected. No surprise. Uphill is often long. 

Early in this hike I revealed my fear of rattlesnakes, and the irrational fear (held over from childhood) that they would chase me down and bite. It gave context to my freezing in my tracks and pointing: "That is definitely a rattlesnake." I saw it stretched out with its reddish rattle, and was able to show it to both J and K before it noticed us and started rattling.  It was louder than I would have thought, and having now heard it I am unlikely to mistake any other sound for it again. It made its way off the trail --it was already on the move before J got the photo below--and we continued on our way. Contrary to my assumptions as a child, it did not then stalk and attack us. 

                                       

Made it to Camino Cielo!

Camino Cielo is the road that runs along the ridge above Santa Barbara. From it you can see both south to the ocean and north to the mountains and the Santa Ynez valley. It's a beautiful walk. 

Changing socks and applying duct tape to "hot spots"

Looking back/down on Montecito Peak with K

We had just over four miles along this gorgeous (and smooth) route before we came to the top of the Tunnel trail and the end of K's time with us. Her family picked her up and we waved goodbye after a lunch break at the crossroads just beneath La Cumbre Peak. After that, it was heading back down the trail that had been my struggle on Day 3...

...and looking for our water resupply that J planted on Day 6. Would it be there?

Victory!

It was! We were tickled to see that the gallon we had left exactly refilled the water we had already consumed. Perfect. After refilling, we continued down the trail. Most of the trekking left on this day was a repeat of something we had walked before. Usually I would expect that to mean that there would be space for processing different questions. I am sure we did talk about some important things--but in yet another of the many ways we have found the trail to reflect real life, the terrain was challenging enough to require most of our attention, leaving little for vision casting or untangling. For example, the first half of this leg included long stretched of multiple types of terrain such as these:

                                            

What variety! It is a beautiful if sometimes treacherous way.  On the Rattlesnake/Tunnel Connector, we even found the branch beside the trail that I broke off rather uncomfortably during a fall about two weeks earlier. This time I only fell once (not here)! 

More duct tape on more toes at the 13-mile mark

Our feet were sore and we were tired; but not too tired to appreciate what's beautiful. I hope that can also be the case in the midst of the parenting and pandemic problem-solving that stand in for loose rocks and uneven terrain back at home.

One of the things I had mentally bookmarked to talk about on our camino was some vision casting/planning for this next season of life. If we break our "adult" life into thirds, for example, we're at a transition point between seasons. What are our priorities for this next section of the trail? We did talk about that some, earlier on the camino, between sliding rocks and expansive views and water refills. 

This time next year we will have been married for more of our lives than not

But on a later walk J reframed the question. It's easy to assume that the years keep coming: what to do in the next ten years, and then the next, and then the season after that...but how might the answers change if the question is what to prioritize in the next ten years, period? If ten years are all there is to plan for, do the answers change?

                                           

Yes, somewhat. Kudos to J for being willing to ask the question, and thanks to our friend SG for this encouragement years ago: "Don't wait to celebrate" (now my personal favorite hashtag). 

It's a good reminder to me (hahaha #cancerpatient) not to wait to get to work, either. With a big task or goal at hand, I sometimes find I'm doing the equivalent of waiting on a train, because the distance-to-goal seems so far: but I should probably just start walking. One step at a time!

Kind of a bummer that it takes hours of walking to get this view

We headed down the connector trail, passed through Tin Can Meadow, and finally reached the shady creek in Rattlesnake Canyon.

We stopped to splash and cool off. This last segment always seems about 250% longer than I expect it to be. This day was no exception.

We did finally make it to trailhead: and there, what to our wondering eyes did appear but a squad of encouragement to bolster us for the last 2.5 miles of the way! Women who have encouraged me along the way, both long-term and in the more recent season. Even K was there to wave and say hello, about four hours after she drove away at the top of the ridge. So refreshing to see them all. 

So excited to see these people

                     

Group walking in the age of Covid was more complicated than otherwise, but doable. We were all masked and kept moving. As we walked, these dear friends asked about our time and my processing and it gave me an opportunity to try to synthesize my thinking a little bit. But also, I was soaking it up: getting to physically walk the road with some of the people who had metaphorically walked with us through some pretty treacherous terrain.

                       

Before we could see the Mission, we could hear it: its tower bells chimed long and lovely at 6pm. In a few more minutes we were within view.

                                            

I don't have any photos of the large, socially distanced prayer circle we had on the side steps of the Mission. (I also don't have photos of the dance troupe practicing on the main steps during our praying). J had brought a liturgy and we prayed together as a group, while navigating the barrage of texts from our kids that started landing loudly in the midst. Afterwards, some stayed behind to celebrate with a little Spanish Cava J had packed in a cooler in the car we had left parked at the Mission the night before. More toasting God's goodness. 

                    

I'm so grateful for the long-term support of our community. So grateful for the ability to walk and experience all of the beauty that we did, in spite of the damage done to my body by the cancer. So grateful for the regular rhythm of liturgy, and for the awe-inspiring setting of our local Camino. So grateful for J's incredible, outrageous support and encouragement. So grateful for our kids (they get their own post soon). So grateful for for the ideas and reflections we'll be unpacking in the season(s) to come. So grateful for "the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting." 

We made it!

Camino de Santa Barbara, Finale

                    

Camino Day 7--6/27/2020

Roundtrip between Coral Casino and Douglas Family Preserve

Representing Berducedo to Grandas de Salime    

It's hard to believe that a week ago today we were nearing the end of our Camino de Santa Barbara. (I have had to edit this, I originally thought it would post last Monday...but, real life happened instead. Etc.)

While Day 6 had a distinct wildlife flavor, Day 7 was walking right through town along the coast. The wildness on this day was being around so many other people (no small thing in the midst of the pandemic that is growing in Santa Barbara County...we wondered aloud whether we might be safer taking our chances with the mountain lions).  Passing so many landmarks made the time go quickly, and it was a beautiful Saturday to walk the coast. This leg completed our county-line-to-Goleta coastal walking. 

                                    

We parked midway along East Beach and headed South toward Butterfly Beach. It was another cloudy, marine-layer day that called for a jacket at the start. 

Along the way we passed the open gates to the Santa Barbara Cemetery, and took a detour through there to look for the gravesites of two people we've known. We found one but not the other. We walked over to the older section and read inscriptions and considered. We're really looking forward to some reunions 

someday.

                                    

We passed Ty Warner's house above Butterfly Beach and admired other beautiful gardens and architecture...another kind of loveliness in our hometown. 

Hi there Beanie-Boo Man

This just made us laugh

Heading North again, it was low tide so we were able to walk around the bottom of the cliffs on the beach instead of back around by the road. 

We know we're going past that far point in the background but we're not sorry.

                                

Seals were our wildlife encounter for the day

At the opposite end of the walk, we stopped for a picnic at Douglas Preserve on a cliff above the ocean. Honey bees buzzed and a paraglider soared overhead. 

Always the flip flops during the lunch breaks

                                            

                                            

                                 

One difference between our Camino that didn't happen and our Camino de Santa Barbara was that much of our camino here was on trails away from towns, rather than wending our way between villages where we might grab a bite to eat (or refill water) on the way. In celebration of the fact that our Camino was nearly finished--and that this was the lone day we'd be really walking through town (aside I suppose from Day 1 in Carpinteria)--we looked forward to stopping for some refreshment. In true Camino style, we planned to take advantage of the local specialties. 

One of my favorite local specialties

very different terrain from our usual trails

We waited in line (6 feet apart, on the marks) outside of the Santa Barbara Fish Market at the harbor and got our ahi poke bowls! Hallelujah. I was concerned they would be sold out by this time in the afternoon.

Poke banditos

yes please thank you Santa Barbara

                                

We ate our poke in the shade by the harbor and then continued the final miles to the car. When we were almost in sight of the van, we took a 1/4 mile detour to Figueroa Mountain Brewing to split a Lizard's Mouth IPA. This brewery was founded in the beautiful valley we can see on our backcountry hikes, and Lizard's Mouth is rocky lookout that we've visited with the kids. If you come to visit, we can take you there! (Lizard's mouth lookout, or Figueroa Mountain, OR Fig Mtn to get a Lizard's Mouth. Whatever suits your fancy).

Una caña of J's favorite: 100% worth that paltry extra half mile

At the end of the day we discovered we'd walked three miles (20%) farther than intended...so much for saving our legs for the final day. Part of that was the cemetery walk and part of it was miscalculation on my part and part of it was detouring to Fig Mountain. All worth it.  So grateful to be walking these miles with this man. And also grateful to be walking them here, in this place, in the midst of laundry and supper dishes and chats with neighbors and evenings spent on our patio. One of my takeaways from this trek is how thankful I am for my life: not just the preservation of this physiological life that this camino (in part) is celebrating, but the everyday rhythms and responsibilities and relationships. What a gift. 

Day 7 in the books! One day to go!

Camino Day 7