I met Erin and Emily for coffee at the albergue. Afterward, we started off at a good pace with a large group of pilgrims. About 45 minutes into the walk, my knee was already hurting. I stopped at a pharmacy to get a better knee brace and the others went ahead. There was no way I could keep up their pace.
Even with the brace, I could tell I was going to be in trouble. But, like an idiot, I felt that I had to go on. For some reason, I just couldn't stop. The walk to the Alto de Perdon (the Mount of Forgiveness) was long and steep, but I kept telling myself that it wasn't too bad. The sculpture was impressive and I got chills from recognizing the scene in the movie. Some of the pilgrims I had met in Pamplona arrived after me, they had stopped for lunch while I had gone ahead of them. It was all very nice and a great moment for me. But the descent nearly killed me!! It was a pretty tough descent with large, loose round rocks on the trail. My hiking poles would sometimes slip on the smooth surfaces of the rocks and my knee was screaming for relief. I didn't time my descent, but I know it took a very, very long time. Many, many pilgrims passed me. Some stopped to ask if I was alright. Most just whizzed by. When I finally made it to the bottom, I could barely walk.
I met Mary at the bottom of the descent where she was taking a break. We started walking together. A male pilgrim walked up behind us and asked me if I was ok. We exchanged a little small talk, he said his name is Gunter, he's retired, he's German, he's done many, many long distance hikes, I should take care of my knees.... So then he pulled ahead because I was still walking so slowly and we watched him quickly gain distance between us. Then, when he was about 50 feet ahead of us and still on a slight descent, we witnessed him trip, fall face first, and slide on the rocks. Mary and I both gasped. Then we saw him jump up and grab his face. There was blood everywhere. We rushed to him - Mary rushed much faster than I did - and we saw that he had a gash on his forehead, the skin on his nose and cheeks was scraped off, his thumb appeared to be dislocated, and he had another nasty gash on the palm of his hand. I didn't have my usual medical kit with me, not even a bandaid! Mary had some antiseptic spray, but other than that there was little we could do. Just using our hands, we could not get the bleeding to stop from the gashes. Another pilgrim came up who actually had a useful first aid kit. As he bandaged Gunter, I said I would go ahead to the next town and get help. I knew that he needed more than first aid, so I was looking for a medical center, ER, or doctor's office. At the albergue that I finally limped into I asked if there was a doctor or medical office in town. They took one look at me and thought it was for me. I explained that another pilgrim was injured and he needed help. There wasn't anything in town so I asked the hostitalera to call a taxi so that we could transport Gunter to a larger town for medical treatment. She said it would be about 20 minutes, so I said "Call now!" knowing it would take a while for him to get here.
When Mary saw me, she said "You practically ran! How's your knee?" I honestly didn't feel the pain until she mentioned it again. THEN I nearly fell over from the wave of pain I felt. Gunter and the other pilgrim (later found out he was a dentist) arrived and Gunter ordered a beer from the bar. He said "At least I can still hold a drink!" Minutes later, the taxi showed up and Gunter made him wait until he finished his beer, it didn't take him long. We then jumped into the taxi and sped toward the next big town. I think we passed several villages before finally getting to Puerta la Reina.
In Puerta la Reina the doctor's office that the taxi driver first took us to was closed. So he drove us to the emergency medical center, which I thought should have been his first choice. Anyway, we dropped Gunter off and the thought of trying to walk from the center of town back to the oustskirts almost made me cry. So I made sure Gunter was in good hands, then I asked the taxi driver to take me back to the albergue we had passed. He looked a little impatient, but he said ok and we threw my pack back inside the taxi. He sped through town as I realized that his speeding really had nothing to do with Gunter's medical condition. When we got to the albergue, he practically threw my backpack into my arms and rushed off. That's when my Bluetooth headset started saying "Out of range, trying to connect."
My brand-new iPhone was in the back seat of the cab. That was almost too much for me to bear.
A pilgrim I had met on my first day in Roncesvalles saw me and rushed up to me to see if I was OK. He and his crew are from the states and he is filming a documentary about the Camino. When we first met in Roncesvalles, he told me he was from Oklahoma, so I began calling him "Oklahoma" and he called me "Texas." I guess he could see that I was in distress, so he offered his assistance. I gave him a quick Reader's Digest version of what was happening, ending with my fear that I'd never see my phone again. He said, "OK, let's figure this out. What's the phone number for the taxi?" I said "I don't know, the hospitalera at the albergue in Uterga called him." Then I realized that I had a listing of all the phone numbers to the albergues on the route. So I looked it up. The guy at the bar wouldn't let us use his phone and Oklahoma's phone was in town with his associate who was shopping for dinner. There was a German couple from France sitting at a table listening to my sad narrative and the man said he had a European phone so he offered to make the call for us. He called and the person who answered didn't speak English. Oklahoma took the phone and asked for the taxi driver's phone number. I wrote it down as he repeated it into the handset. We then called that number and no one answered. The German couple left for dinner. And then Erin and Emily showed up!!! Erin asked what was wrong and after repeating the story AGAIN, she said she had international coverage so she gave her phone to Oklahoma who called the taxi driver. This time he got an answer and told the driver that my phone was in the back seat. The driver affirmed that he had found it, but he was now two villages away and he didn't live in Puente la Reina. He said he would drop the phone off at the hotel reception desk in the morning.
Oklahoma shared this news with all of us and we let out a big cheer!! Beer was ordered and consumed. Showers taken and dirty clothes exchanged for clean ones and we all went to the restaurant for an excellent dinner, outrageous conversation, and much, much more wine and beer.
By the end of the evening, Gunter had been bandaged and stitched, my phone was to be returned to me in the morning, I was reunited with friends, and Oklahoma had a good story to tell. All in all, another great day.
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