6 - down
One-thousand feet of loose rock and boulders
Almost as soon as we got back on the trail after being lost and bewildered for about 20 minutes, I fell. There was tall, soft grass everywhere along the edges of the trails; if you put your hand on it to gain some balance, it was prickly underneath. Not fun to sit on either. It looked thick and sturdy, but it wasn’t. We were on a narrow path on a steep slope with the grass on either side. I stepped ever so slightly off the path onto a patch of grass, and rolled my ankle with a loud ‘crack.’ Thankfully, the weight of my pack pulled me in the opposite direction, uphill and I fell down with a yelp. Kirk was ahead and came back to find me whimpering in pain. I have rolled my ankle many times, but only with bad sprains. This felt different, but I didn’t want to entertain the thought of it being broken because I knew we still had a long way to go. And if it was broken, I shouldn’t walk on it. I stood up. I could bear weight so we started walking again. Each step hurt, but on this level section, it was manageable. Soon, however, the terrain changed and the downhill nature of the trail, plus the 3’+ drops, boulders and other obstacles proved to be very painful. My trekking poles came in handy to help with weight bearing, but the bending of the foot to accommodate the downhill was rough. Level ground and uphill was manageable. Maybe it’s not broken.
There were plenty of times, probably every 10 minutes or so that we both thought, “this is insane, we can’t go on.” But we both dismissed those thoughts; the sun was setting, we still had a long way to go, we had no phone reception, and we hadn’t seen another human for hours. We had to get to Rifugio Caldanave. We had seen helicopters throughout the day, either rescuing people like me who were hurt, shuttling supplies to remote areas, or just taking wealthy tourists to exciting destinations. I couldn’t imagine one landing anywhere near where we were. There wasn’t a level spot anywhere. Even if we could call someone.
It was a strange mix of thoughts: I’m unable to help myself and yet I have to help myself. I don’t have the stamina, strength or health to keep going, but I am still going. I am dependent on someone else to get me where I need to go.
I just kept thinking, “I have to take another step. Just one more.”
“Jesus!” This name and muffled winces were all that passed my lips.
At one point we were on a goat path; literally 4” wide with a long, steep drop to the left. It felt like the scene in Princess Bride when Wesley is rolling down the hill yelling, “As you wish!” We couldn’t believe this was actually the trail, and Kirk hadn’t seen a trail marker in a long time. I was fully dependent on him at this point to lead us. He wondered if the trail was actually above us somewhere and crawled up the spiky soft grass to find it just above our heads. We carefully picked our way up to the wider path and continued on less fearful of tumbling.
We finally came to a post with markers. We were at the highest point on the trek and the sign said we were 40 minutes from the rifugio. As we followed the arrow, we found our last and biggest challenge; a steep descent of 1000’ over large boulders, big stones, and loose gravel. Again, my first thought was that it was impossible, but God kept nudging me forward, slowly taking each step carefully and as precisely as possible.
We came onto a flat area thinking we were close, but we had to pick our way through a thick forest of more descent, some creek crossings, and slippery spots. Finally as the sun set, we came onto a beautiful valley with Rifugio Caldenave about a football field away. The last sign we saw was not 40 but a full 90 minutes behind us.
The happy sounds and smells of a crowded dining room welcomed us at 7:30 pm, 8.5 hours after we began the hike. The staff brought us dinner, water, and a bag of ice for my ankle. Ricardo came over and told us he was a doctor and looked at my ankle. Luca followed with kind words, “We were going to come look for you if you hadn’t shown up by 8.”
Kirk immediately started to say how excited he was that God met us on that trail. He kept talking about how it was not the kind of pilgrimage we were expecting, but a pilgrimage it certainly was. God’s presence was surely in that place, was surely what brought the strength to endure, and was our refuge. He was an ever-present help in trouble. We did not fear, though the earth gave way many times under my feet. The mountains didn’t fall into the sea, but the thought that they could, or that they could melt at the voice of the Lord, makes me glad I am on his team. Psalm 46 was so appropriate for this challenge; I am glad we were quoting the first few verses of it in those hours.
Indeed, it was a walk with God in search of God.
