Camino Sunrise: Now It’s Your Turn

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My wife Sue’s ink-and-watercolor paintings highlight each chapter of Camino Sunrise.

Why did I write an adventure memoir about the Camino de Santiago?

I wrote to touch readers’ hearts, tickle funny bones, and pique curiosity.

I wrote for people who have tried long-distance trekking and for those who are considering their first hiking adventure. I wrote for armchair adventurers as well.

I wrote for people who have struggled with self-doubt, childhood bullying, and poverty.

Many readers have shared their reactions to Camino Sunrise. Many wrote that my book resonated in several of the areas I mentioned above. They found a message of hope.

I would love to hear what you think.

 

Walk Hundreds of Miles? Why Not?

This post by a fellow Camino de Santiago trekker caught my eye today. Click on the link below to read the post.

After telling someone I am going on the Camino, the number one question I get is WHY? Why am I doing it? Unfortunately, this question is not one that can be answered quickly (although if time is short I really fight the urge to just answer, “Why not?!”). While medieval pilgrims were mainly walking for […]

via Walk Hundreds of Miles? Why Not? — Curious Loca

Camino Sunrise Book Talk

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I will present a Camino Sunrise book talk at Barnes and Noble Booksellers in Medford, Oregon on Saturday, March 2 at 2 p.m. As well as Amazon, my book is available through the Barnes and Noble website and in Ashland, Oregon at Bloomsbury Books and the Northwest Nature Shop. The ebook is offered at Amazon. Interestingly, I recently saw it on Powell’s Bookstore online store.

 

The Camino: A Night Without a Bed?

 

dscn0697A detour had taken Sue, Gert and me to Castrillo Polvazares, a traditional Maragato village off the Camino de Santiago. It was raining with darkness closing in.

From Camino Sunrise: Walking With My Shadows:

“I was about to suggest that we walk to the next town when an old, small pickup stopped next to us. A man with short, gray hair rolled down his window, stuck out his head and shouted questions in Spanish so fast  that I had no clue what he said. Gert talked to the driver, also in Spanish, then turned to us with the bad news.

”He said both albergues here are not open for the season yet.” We eyed each other quizzically, even panicked-looking. A wet journey in near-darkness loomed. We could not be certain there would be empty beds in the next village. Suddenly…”