May 11, 2026 (Monday).
Hubris. We woke from a night’s rest after our long, rainy walk yesterday stiff and achey. We both exercise daily, but we did little or nothing to prepare for this walk. And this morning–we feel it. Oooff! Being generally fit does not prepare you for walking 15 to 18 miles a day carrying a light backpack. Yes, hubris.
We stretch and feel better. After checking the All Trails app, we see comments from previous hikers that the first 10 km is along a busy, trafficy road with no shoulder. They warn that it is dangerous and a bad route. Our alternative is to ADD a 3.2 km detour that we already walked by mistake yesterday (and back).
We consider the “purity” of our walk–does it “count” if we don’t walk every kilometer? With a certain liberation, we opt to take a local bus through the first dangerous kilometers. We shoulder our backpacks and groan but are relieved that it will be a shorter walk day.
This option gives us time to explore the medieval hill town of Sutri, have a cappuccino in the town square, notice the “Arthurian” town logo, and visit the Roman amphitheater carved out of rock (rather than built of concrete).
Can you see my relief at being on the bus? The narrow, dangerous road road did justify our decision–when that bus passes the oncoming car the only option would be a leap into the bushes–but the relief is mostly for choosing joy over pain, letting go of an external “should.”
On we go past large fields, olive groves, white sheep and white cattle. My back hurts and my toes are blistered. We climb in elevation to Monte Gelato where there is a refreshing stream and cascata (waterfall). I speculate that Italian words starting with “gel-” must mean cold or icy: gelato (ice cream), ghiaccio (ice) and here, a mountain with icy-cool cascades.
That last kilometers to our destination are slow-going. I have to stop every half hour to take off my backpack and stretch. I wonder, for the first time, if I’ll be able to keep up the daily walk. At last, the bell tower of Campagnano di Rome rises from the landscape like a vision of Oz. I think of the phrase from Malory’s Roman War episode in which the Roman ambassadors reach Sandwich and “were never so blithe” [happy] at arriving at their destination. It’s been a tough day of walking and we have a very steep ascent up into the medieval hill town, but I am feeling “blithe” to reach the day’s destination.
I wonder if the “testimonia” that we will receive when we finish the pilgrimage is like a certificate from Oz, simply confirming the strengths we already have? What is the affirmation we are seeking?
