Normally I post every other day. However. I wanted to capture some thoughts while they are fresh on my mind.

After I posted yesterday we were met by a good friends brother and his husband who is Spanish and now live in a village near Cacabelos. We had met only through email to this point, and they were kind enough to pick us up at our hostel and show us their nearly 90 year old home. Wine and hors d’oeuvres on the patio then a wonderful dinner inside as it cooled down. Best of all great conversation and a truly authentic Spanish experience. We will remember this as one of the highlights of the Camino.

So we were ready to start a great day, and after breakfast headed out.

All was right with the world. The sun was over our shoulder, what could go wrong?

Well some days the rhythm is just off. Our pace was not in sync, the Camino markings were few and far between, and I was letting my inner demons get the best of me. I got mad at the Camino for taking us down a highway with a narrow path on the side of the road. At one point we had to cross over a bridge with no path and guardrails confining our exit from traffic. I was mad at the app as I knew there had to be a better route since this one was so poorly marked. I finally spotted a dirt road paralleling the highway, and with Becky in tow, we crossed a plowed field. 50 yards and two mud holes later, there was a proper entrance to this well marked section of the Camino. It was a very quiet walk until we entered the pretty small city of Villafranca del Bierzo

As we entered town, Becky decided she was done with walking for the day and would take a taxi the last 5 miles to Trabadelo. Truth be known, she was more done with me than walking. So I put her in a taxi and took off to complete what was to be an easy five miles.

Soon there was a choice to make. The camino markings were confusing as was the AllTrails app. The path by the river played out, but the one that headed up towards the ridge seemed like the primary route. So I headed up one of the steepest climbs so far. After about 200 meters I saw a man who explained I could continue on across the ridge or take the flatter path along the river. ( at least that is what I think he said since it was all in Spanish).

Giving it some thought I decided to carry on. I certainly did not want to walk down the hill and the views were already starting to get good. And besides, how much worse could it get?

Soon the paved road played out and I could tell by the height of the grass in the middle of the dirt road that this was the road less traveled.

As I climbed in elevation the views just got better.

I knew I was getting pretty far up the mountain when I started looking down on the electrical lines.

At this point I was feeling pretty good about myself. Road less traveled, unique hiking experience, etc. Maybe being a jerk earlier in the day had led to opportunities that would not have otherwise presented themselves. It was just about that moment that as in biblical times when the locusts descended on Egypt, the first mosquitoes appeared around my head. Not to bad at first but an annoyance. My picture breaks became less frequent as they seemed to all catch up when I slowed. I was able to get a few at what I thought was the pinnacle

The road ahead looked to be flatter and the smell of Pine trees reminded me of Colorado.

So as I started down this ridge road lined with pines, the swarms of mosquitoes grew more intense. I could not walk fast enough to escape them. They had seen the daily Pilgrim Menu, and I was all three courses. I was soon carrying my walking sticks in one hand and swatting in front of my face with the other. With each swat I could hit three or four, but they soon realized it was not much of a threat, and approached it more like a game. This seemed to only encourage more of their friends to join in. Every now and then I would find an open space where the number declined and I could snap a few photos.

I fought the mosquitoes for at least 5 kilometers and they only let up when I entered a bar at an Albergue in a town that was perched two kilometers above Trabadelo. Safe at the bar, I had a coke, rested, regained my strength, and prepared for the run down the mountain side.

As I headed out on the city streets, it seemed as though the mosquito mania was over. Chestnut groves showed their fall colors and the ground was littered with the fallen nuts.

Soon I stepped off the street and onto the path that would take me through the orchard and fields that were a more direct line to Trabadelo. What I soon realized was squadrons of mosquitoes were laying in wait for their one last attempt to bring me down. It had been bad, but now there were times I could see clouds of them ahead of me as I walked and swatted. I was encouraged to keep going when catching glimpses of Trabadelo coming ever the more closer.

One last push through an especially dark and brushy tunnel and I was emerging onto the safety of city streets once again.

After surviving the plague of mosquitoes, I decided I needed to reconsider my earlier thoughts as there is really nothing good that can come from acting like a jerk. So my mission tomorrow is to find a church, light a candle or ten, ask forgiveness, and ask for guidance on being a better man. And I am confident that with a little divine help, the Camino will provide.