Fully retired after 34 yrs in medicine. Now pursuing more creative endeavors. This is a modest showcase for my art work, travel and adventure reporting, and other creations from the fabric of time.
On Monday, 10/20/2025, we stepped out of the warm car into the 21 degree morning and began hiking the last uncompleted section of the Oregon Pacific Crest Trail (OR PCT). This beginning became the end of a 4 year pursuit to complete the entire 455.2 miles of the OR PCT.
This journey began as an ambition in 2020 to define entering my 6th decade of life. Physically, I was in good shape except for a lifetime of bad knees. We had moved from Corvallis to Eugene but were still commuting two hours per day with ten hour shifts. I had planned to change jobs to be closer to home and take a 2 month break before restarting work to complete the OR PCT. But life marches on its own path, sometimes ignoring our plans. In 2020, the COVID pandemic changed everything, and with it, closed the entire PCT. We hunkered down at work, navigating the turbulence and opting for stability with familiar routines.
Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent– Marilyn vos Savant, writer. Born 8/11/46.
When life found its way back to a new normal, I adjusted my hiking plans. I did not change jobs. I did not take 2 months off. Instead, on May 25th, 2021, I began the process of linking sections of a north bound OR PCT route in reasonable 3-5 day trips. Over the next 4 years, when time in between work allowed, friends and family were willing, weather and trail conditions allowed, I systematically linked a contiguous line up the OR map. From the border of Oregon and California to the border of Oregon and Washington, I put one foot in front of the other.
In some ways, sectional hiking over a long route is crazy. First of all, there is risk of wearing thin your relationships. Time and again asking if they would drive or pick up, stake their trust in my planning, judging good weather and trail conditions. Not to mention enduring the physical and mental challenges of many trail miles. On the other hand, completing the OR PCT in sections kept the trail time fresh. It kept the body from breaking down too much, enthusiasm higher, and the pack weight light.
You’re never too young to have a dream. You’re never too old to make them happen. -Pam Flowers, first woman to dog sled across the Arctic.
On September 16th, 2023 I walked to the Bridge of the Gods with my good hiking friend, Tracy. I celebrated this day as the completion of my OR PCT. Felt good. Really good. Many fine memories with friends and family. I even completed one 4-day section solo, a first for me. However, in the back of my mind was a 42 mile stretch of OR PCT that had continued to evade my planning. Kept thinking I would get to it later. First time due to snow and another time, wild fires and forest closures. Every thru-hiker has to reconcile with some deviation of route for one reason or another. However, you have fewer excuses as a sectional hiker. And, it bothered me.
So, when I proposed completing this remaining section I did so with some urgency. I was staring at a knee replacement the following year and recovery uncertainty. We were just back from a month travel in Spain, including hiking part of the N Route Camino. I was currently in good hiking shape. The timing was further primed by fall frost eliminating mosquitoes in a usually vicious area for them. And the season of deep snow was quickly approaching. It came down to the wire when my good friend Tracy and her dog Bruno agreed to join me. It was not going to be easy. Three days, averaging 13-14+ miles per day, and limited water (carrying 3 L). My brother Jeff, a reliable weather techie, said “I don’t see anything foreboding”. Cold, some ground snow but dry. Our wonderful husbands agreed to drive and pick us up. It is a really good feeling when details fall into place. It is like fitting the last pieces of 5000-piece puzzle.
PCT Section D Cascade Crest to Crescent Lake
Back on the trail, Tracy and I put one foot in front of the other. Unseen travelers marked the snow with their tracks; bear, elk, deer, marten or mink, birds and one hiker traveling southbound. The forest’s quiet was deafening, as there was almost no wind. Stepping out of the dense forest was a brilliant view of Mt Theilsen, the lightening rod of the Cascades. We had hours of awkward steps and loud crunching through the breakable snow crust. We welcomed getting to the dry, soft and quiet, dirt trail. From one camp, perched high on a ridge facing East, the light of sunrise was a beautiful evolving painting. The color of my favorite sherbet (*sherbert, if you prefer). And water! A constant concern on this section. If there is a God, it also has to be water.
In the moment, hiking these wilderness miles can feel like you have everything you need and life is infinitely pure. But it is really the coming back home when the gratitude floods back in. I remain ever grateful for these experiences, to my friends and family, the wilderness and water.
24 days traveling in Spain with just our backpacks and an apology for being Americans.
Newton’s first law of motion is also known as the law of inertia. Committing to the idea of a 3 wk trip is a large first hurdle. It helps being retired, as I am. Or, threatening to retire, as Hank did. He also applied Newton’s second law of motion; the force that changes the object. Newton’s third law: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. That would apply to Air Canada vs flight attendant’s strike. Push and shove got nowhere. Negotiations stalled. Thousands of flights were canceled. Just 10 days before our flight, the Canadian government intervened and ordered the flight attendants back to work. Great. Our flight wasn’t canceled but there would be some grumpy flight attendants. As one Canadian put Air Canada’s motto: we’re not happy until you’re not happy.
Riding the gravy plane:
Fortunately, no nightmares on our trans-Atlantic flight. We splurged on business class tickets for the fully reclining seats. Never having flown this class before, we had no idea…
Before our flight, and by happenstance, we noticed we had access to the AC lounge. Inside we were like kids in a candy store. You might relate if you’re one who has little restraint at a buffet. Onboard, beyond fat and happy, we continued to be pampered. More drinks, appetizers, and, not one but two, main courses (my bad). Another glass of wine? Why not. Well, yes, I think I will have a brandy with that dessert. By the time the lights dimmed, we were well marinated in fully reclined position. The life of a Camino pilgrim would have to wait.
24 hr layover in Barcelona: El Prat de Llobregat airport hotel.
We caught an evening bus to the bustling heart of Barcelona, the Gothic Quarter. We had shed our pampered skin and tried to blend in with the locals. If locals take a lot of photos and say ‘wow’ a lot. I loved the narrow cobblestone streets, ornate large wooden doors, live musicians on side streets, regal cathedrals, and crowded tapas bars. At the Plaza de Catalunya children chased the hundreds of pigeons with a joy only felt before taxes and adult responsibilities. There were a dizzying array of things to see. We wandered for hours until the fatigue of jet lag was too much to resist.
Chapter I: Mallorca- Palma, Port de Soller, hiking GR221, swimming in the Mediterranean, Es Reveller Art Hotel, Atrestruz (Ostrich farm).
People ask me, why Mallorca? I was intrigued with the island’s natural beauty after watching a 2023 climbing show with Chris Sharma, a world class climber. Rugged and arid terrain with stucco houses, terracotta roofs, stone fences. All this surrounded by unbelievably blue Mediterranean water. Curiosity is all it takes to open a door.
Two days in Palma. Dog Admiral Urban Guest hotel is an AirBnB set in the heart of the city. It suited us perfectly. We dropped our backpacks and walked to nearby Cathedral de Palma, a excellent family owned restaurant/bar (Casa Julio), a temporary and free installation of Joan Miro sculptures, and the lively Mercat Municipal de Santa Catalina (fish/produce market). The most magical moment was ending the warm evening watching the slowly changing colors of sunset over the Cathedral and Mediterranean.
Two nights in Port de Soller (pronounced ‘Sawyer’). Although touristy, the vintage styled electric train/tram is fun way to get to Port de Soller, just 1 hour north of Palma (23 euros). The beach there is beautiful and not crowded. Swimming in the warm Mediterranean sea feels like a spa treatment. From town, we hiked 10 K north on a trail to Cala Tuent (a small cove with rocky beach). We had made reservations at the only restaurant there, Es Vergaret. Food and service were quite good, contrary to some reviews. After lunch, more beach hang and swimming before returning to Port de Soller by boat late that afternoon. This day had it all.
Hike to Deia via GR 221. Cala Deia and Con Boi hostel. Leaving from our hotel in Port de Soller, we hiked south on the GR 221 trail to Deia. This is hike was quite exposed and the day was hot and humid. We started off early but by the time we reached Cala Deia (11.3 km), we were very ready for another refreshing dip in the Mediterranean. Unfortunately, it was high tide and large rolling waves crashed onto the rocks. There was only one crazy person out swimming. His audience was about 50 sweaty onlookers watching with equal parts envy and horror.
We left to find cool respite at Con Boi, the hostel in Dena, about 20 mins hike inland. Con Boi is a government run lovely old stone building with a large communal area downstairs and bunk rooms upstairs. Unfortunately, due to regional water restrictions, there were no showers available. Maybe the city would turn on the water by evening, they said. We took our stinky selves to a nearby cafe with an outdoor garden patio, and sat in a far corner. In Spain, happy hour is any hour. That made us happy.
In Deia, there are many curvy cobble stone streets, stone walls draped with purple flowers, and a few very friendly cats. Mallorca is a biking mecca for clones of Uber-fit cyclists. The roads are hilly and have no shoulders. Suprisingly drivers and riders seem to get along. Our night in the hostel was long and restless. The bunk room was hot and humid, and full of many deep sleepers. Fortunately, the water had come on earlier for evening showers.
Two nights at Es Reveller Art Hotel and Atrestruz (ostrich farm). Sometimes the best moments of traveling are the unexpected. This was our experience at Es Reveller Art Hotel. I had initially planned to attend just the Art Night, which includes a tour of their extensive art collection and a fancy dinner ($70). Because we couldn’t find any other place, we decided to book two nights at Es Reveller hotel. It exceeded our budget but more importantly our expectations (https://www.esrevellarartresort.es/EN/home.html). Our tour included an underground cave of artifacts, and room after room of paintings and sculptures. This place is really magical and a special place to celebrate our 34th anniversary.
From magical to bizarre. The following day we borrowed bikes and pedaled to an ostrich educational farm, Atrestruz. It was blazing hot but the ride was flat and only 5 miles away. The farm is a family owned business, mostly run by the two brothers. Our visit lasted about 2 hours and included feeding these huge friendly birds. Such incredible birds. Such wonderful people. One of the brothers made us lunch at their outdoor kitchen as he told us stories of his young life starting in S Africa and moving to Mallorca. More at Artestruzmallorca.com.
Fun facts: Ostrich lay the world’s largest eggs, are the fastest flightless birds (up to 43 mph), largest eyes of any animal. And, Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney have this farm’s decoratively painted Ostrich eggs.
Another fun fact: the brothers and our art tour guide both went to same high school on Mallorca with Rafael Nadal. Hank had so many questions.
Not so fun fact: Hank and I inadvertently dined and dashed after lunch. We thought the other one had paid. We came clean back at the resort, after the thrill had worn off.
Chapter II: Pilgrims of the Camino de Santiago.
A couple short flights took us from Mallorca back to Barcelona and onto San Sebastian in northern Spain. Here we began the second half of our trip. The Camino del Norte starts in Irun, in the Basque region. The route follows Spain’s northern coastline for 512 miles ending in Santiago de Campostela where St James is buried. Our 10 days would take us over about 140 miles of the pilgrim’s trail. Many people use the long walking journey for many personal reasons. Without a preconceived intent, we were open to what the experience would reveal to us along the way.
Upon our arrival, Sept 8th, thousands of towns people were in the streets celebrating the annual observance of the Virgin de Guadalupe. We were swallowed up by the masses dressed in white shirts, red scarves and red berets. They lined the streets cheering and clapping for the parade of passing soldiers with wooden guns on their shoulders, playing drums and flutes, and riding prancing horses. We were told many also make a pilgrimage to the monastery of Guadalupe high on the hill overlooking the town. So did we the next morning as we started our Camino.
Buen Camino
This is a common greeting when meeting or saying goodbye to other pilgrims or locals along the Camino. It affirms the right or good path that you are on. Rachael and her friend Marlee hiked the Camino del Norte last year and spoke highly of their trip. This specific Camino route is one of the oldest and considered the hardest. Jim and Nadine, back in the 80’s (?), biked one of the Camino routes. I thought this would be within our wheelhouse after hiking the West Highland Way, Dolomite Alta Via I, and Oregon PCT. Unlike wilderness thru-hiking, the Camino day ends with a bed, shower and meal. I consider the Camino del Norte ass kickin’ glamping.
Random Trail notes:
‘A Steep ascent out of town’ was not to be underestimated. Water isn’t free. Many rocks. So many rocks. I’m now fluent in Spanish when it comes to ordering a glass of white wine and a pintxos (pronounced “pinch-shows”). The Basque like to use the letter “x” frequently. It’s funx. Cats, dogs, horses, donkeys and goats are friendly to pilgrims. Changes to our diet included: ham for chicken, croissants for cereal, wine for water. Remember: Just follow the yellow arrow.
“Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life” – Pablo Picasso
The natural beauty of Spain was astounding. From tall sea cliffs thousands of feet above the sea to velvety green rolling hills and deep cool forests. I’m happiest surrounded by this kind of beauty. The old stone architecture is so cool and different, too. What surprised us was how much graffiti, “tagging”, there was. Some was interesting but a lot was not. I guess I can understand a culture that wants a voice and to leave their mark.
Other highlights on the Camino.
Guggenheim museum in Bilbao. Frank Gerhy (architect). Artists displays: Richard Serra’s Weathering Steel: Matter of Time; Helen Frankenthaler’s, Southern Exposure. The town of Gernica and standing before the huge mural of Picasso’s depiction of the ‘horrors of war’ after its bombing during the Spanish civil war. Remembering this moment still takes my breath away. Castro-Urdiales, our favorite city for its dangerously close connection to the sea, ‘Game-of-Thrones’ church (Church of Santa Maria de las Asunción), and our funky little hosteria, Villa de Castro. Thoughtful challenge to ‘Lay down your burden’ at Zenarruza Monastery. Tasty Ziortz beer made by the monks. Blisters and toe condoms. Hank’s endearing attachment to his walking stick.
Reflections:
Worries: Packed too much or too little. Wildfires at home. Wildfires in Spain. Masking and not. Reservations, flights, and delays. Getting sick. Getting squirted. About what to remember. About what to forget. None actualized.
Take home: walking quiets the mind. Art and natural beauty are my sanctuary. What it feels like to not be welcome in a foreign country. ‘Me talk pretty someday’ in Spanish. Thankful for the unspoken language of animals. Buen Camino is any good path that you walk, connect, reflect, and observe.
Nee Chalet 