We walked for ten miles (15 km) in the rain today. Not a downpour, but a constant mist (heavier in the mountains), as if the air itself were made of water. The first few miles were nifty. By the fifth, we were over it. Around the eighth, we felt like badasses. By the tenth, we were drenched and incredulous. All in between we had moments of jubilation and pride: for our absolutely bonkers decision to do such a thing – to walk in the rain for ten miles.
It had me thinking about water on our trip and in life.
Water to drink. 3-4 liters a day while we walk, depending on the heat.
Lack of water, or wishes for water while under the burning sun.
The cool rivers that have healed our muscles.
SHOWERS. And how miraculous they are after a long, sweaty day.
Water to Wash Clothes! Hot or cold water to clean our dirty socks and dusty/sweaty shirts and pants we wear again and again.
How we are in a water crisis in California.
How the world is in a water crisis all over, all the time.
How blessed we were to have rain today. For the land, but also for the experience of walking in rain on El Camino.
We felt like it broke us of our ease. Like we became real pilgrims today: committed to walking in spite of the ongoing sprinkle that soaked us in the end. Pulled by some mysterious force, some internal drive.
We thought about how our moms wouldn’t have wanted us to walk in the rain like that.
But we did it. And we are alive and well. Just ate dinner and are staying in a private room tonight.
To water.
Our need of it.
Our luck in having it.
Tomorrow, we walk to the ocean.
We end.
We are ready!!