2025 Leon to Santiago

People talk a lot about the highest point on the Camino Francés, the Cruz de Ferro (Cross of Iron). You might think it is high on a precipice, takes a lot of effort to climb to, has amazing views from its vantage point, and is a grand piece of artwork. The truth is, the cross is quite small and sits upon a large pole that a Scottish man would toss in a contest. The pole is on a mound of stones right next to a highway. It is a relatively simple walk, a gentle half-hour stroll from the town of Foncebadón. And there is no viewpoint, as it is not the highest point in the area; there are lots of taller mountains around. It is just the highest place of elevation that this path runs across.

That its setting is not spectacular does not take away the importance and specialness of this monument. This location has been a sacred spot for longer than there has been a pilgrimage to Santiago and before there was a Christian symbol on top of the pole. What is almost overwhelming when you arrive is the spectacle of all the rocks that people have left for centuries. There are rocks from all over the world which represent lives, loves, promises, vows, regrets, burdens, sin, and victories - and they are all brought there intentionally, from near and far, mostly on foot.

Intentions. That is what Christie, Bonnie, and I talked about this morning on our walk from Rabanal to Foncebadón. We each had a rock or two and discussed what they represented, as well as what leaving them behind would mean to us. It was a precious time of vulnerability and sharing. Then, when we left the cafe at Foncebadón, we walked that last half hour in silence, separated enough from each other to provide personal space.

Bonnie arrived first and stepped to the side to allow the pilgrims who were already at the pole to have their moments, which usually includes placing a rock, a short time of reflection and possibly a prayer, and then usually has a quick photo opp. The last time I was here, all the pilgrims seemed to just know what the proper protocol entailed.

Today was different. Between Bonnie’s arrival and my own, some bikers started to arrive. When I walked up to the pole, two had their bikes leaning against the pile of stones. More riders arrived after me at speeds that kicked up rocks in all directions when they braked at the top. One of them was screaming in victory. It took the next fifteen minutes for the whole dozen or more of them to arrive, and the others waited for them next to the pole, ignoring other pilgrims who were peacefully trying to place their stones and have their own moments. Most of us gave up and walked over to the benches in the nearby park until the bikers would leave. They didn’t. They changed clothes next to the pole. They held up a banner and took individual and group photos. They climbed up on top of the rocks and then on each other’s shoulders so they could nail a flag up as high as they could on the pole. Then they started taking photos all over again. The pilgrim from Istanbul sitting next to me was cursing them under her breath, trying to undo any blessing they might have received from riding their bikes on the Francés.

To be fair, we didn’t know what their cause was. Perhaps it was a ride in memory of a friend who had died. They could have been raising money for cancer research or a trip to the moon. But at the time, it didn’t matter. If they would have asked me to take their photo for them, I would have said, “No,” and it would have come with an immediate explanation why. Which is also why I decided to retreat to the park and not have a pissing contest on top of the sacred stones.

Thankfully when they left another pilgrim wandered up the Way. He was a Zen Buddhist Priest and a college professor from the Boston area. He brought peace with him and I greatefully received it, recognizing him as another Camino angel.

I had a lot to process while walking down the mountain to Molinaseca (which is by far the hardest part about today’s Camino stage). While I was all prepared with my intentions at the Cruz de Ferro, I was thrown when I encountered unexpected chaos.

This is a growth opportunity.

I know that I will face resistance to my intentions. Some will be from outside forces, like the unruly bikers, and some will be my own internal resistance to the journey of moving forward and upward. So I've got to learn to press in - to be present, to be open, to be love, and to be true. Even in chaos.

Ultreia et Suseia!

P.S. Besides the bit with the bikers, today’s walk, though strenuous on the hips and knees, was absolutely glorious! I even tried setting Christie up with a Templar Knight!Les mer