The Hardest Things: Reflections from the Pilgrimage of Hope

I believe it was while listening to a Pints with Aquinas podcast I heard someone say, “the hardest thing you do, is the hardest thing you ever do.” I am not necessarily a stranger to doing “hard things.” I served 6 years in the United States Air Force. And yes, most of that time I spent forecasting the weather - while sitting at a desk - for the B1s at Ellsworth. But, basic training, a deployment to the Middle East, and a second deployment to Guam, were not necessarily “walks in the park.” And walking 60 miles from St. Joseph in Spearfish to the Cathedral of Our Lady of Perpetual Help in Rapid City was not a “walk in the park” by any means either.

Out of the three days walking, Day 1 was the most challenging for me. Specifically, the final 5 miles stretch from Check Point 3 to St. Francis of Assisi in Sturgis. Having already walked 18 miles from St. Joseph to Check Point 3, it is not surprising my feet were feeling it.

As it so happened, I had been praying a 21-day Consecration to St. Joseph on the Hallow app. The Consecration would take places on Pentecost, the same day we were to arrive at the Cathedral after our 3-day Pilgrimage. I had not planned this out. I just saw the Consecration “challenge” popup on Hallow and figured “why not do it?"

Walking on Day 1 from Spearfish, SD to Sturgis, SD

But, as I was walking into Sturgis on Friday afternoon, the Consecration still 2-days and 40 walking miles away, I began wondering if I am going to be able to make it. And, perhaps more importantly, I began to wonder why I am even doing this? Am I doing it to make my father proud? Maybe? To prove my toughness? I have struggled with that. I suspect most men can relate. The need to prove yourself, especially in the eyes of a demanding father. With these thoughts, I remember I still needed to pray the day’s section of the St. Joseph Consecration on Hallow. The timing was perfect, seems like that tends to happen when God is in control, the Consecration's daily theme was focusing on our wounds and how St. Joseph can be a father to us as he was a foster-father to Jesus. I realized; I don’t need to do this walking Pilgrimage to impress my earthly father. I know he loves me, and I know he did the best he could, and all things considered did an amazing job. I also know I don’t need to impress my Heavenly Father. God loves me even more than I can imagine.

This realization gave me a bit of an emotional high, I would need it as I entered Sturgis. About a mile out from St. Francis Church, one of the blisters on my foot burst with a shot of intense pain.

Passing the Loud American Bar, and now walking with a pronounced limp, I could see them setting up for Friday night. Limping past, unable to put weight on my burst blister, I was forced to ask yet again, “why am I doing this? Why am I walking so far? I could just go in and have a beer. I could get drunk, maybe find a pretty girl, have some fun. Would that not be more fun?” And the answer is, of course, yes! BUT would that make you happier?… yes, but only for one night. The paradox of life of course is, the Cross leads to lasting happiness. This is such a counter intuitive idea; it takes a great act of faith. Trust in the Lord that the reward will be greater than all the suffering. I made it into St. Francis, and while God did not grant an immediate heavenly reward... we did beat the thunderstorm and we were given a wonderful spaghetti meal!

St. Francis of Assisi in Sturgis with weary pilgrims sitting out front

Day 2 began rough. Fitting as the next lesson God had instore was one of humility. I had bandaged and put blister packs on my feet to hold them together, but I was not feeling confident. 22-miles today. That’s a lot. Leaving Sturgis, we headed up Vanocker Canyon. Climbing about 1,200ft, I made it the 5.25 miles to Check Point 1. The good news, my feet were feeling about the same as when I left. So, if by the grace of God, my feet didn’t get any worse, I can do it! It will be painful, but I can do it. The next stretch was long, about 8 miles – our longest single stretch – down Runkle and Bethlehem Roads. It's more of a downhill stretch. That should be good news, but turns out, downhill is now more painful. Walking downhill, I am forced to put more pressure on the blisters on the balls of my feet.

Walking on Vanocker Road - Day 2

About 5.5 miles later, I am starting to fall behind most of the group. I have been wondering if, “when I get to the next check point, should I call it a day? Throw in the towel? Give up?” I don’t like the idea. I don’t like the idea at all. I do not want to quit. But… my body – my feet – have a say. As I am struggling with the idea of getting a ride at the next check point, I round a corner and see everyone resting at the Elk Creek Centennial Trailhead parking area. There is one car there, and I assume it is our support vehicle for this stage. I feel I have a decision to make, ask for a ride or not. “No, I got this,” I say to myself. And, as I think that, a blister on my left foot bursts. Not quite as painful as the blister on my right foot from Day 1, but still painful. “Well, I guess that is God telling me loud and clear ‘Hey! You idiot, you don’t got this.’” But bad news. This isn’t the Check Point. This is just an impromptu stop, and the car isn’t our group’s, but just some hiker on the Centennial Trail. Turns out, there is still about 2.5 miles to go to the actual Check Point. 2.5 miles to come to grips that I am probably done.

Jesus needed help. When the Cross became too much, Simon of Cyrene needed to help Christ carry His burden. “If Jesus could accept Simon’s help, why is it so difficult for you to ask for help?” That’s the question that went through my head those last 2.5 miles.

At Check Point 2, I did accept a ride. My day was done. A wise decision. I could barely walk well enough to help unload the support car at Our Lady of the Black Hills. It was also a real struggle to walk across the street to the grocery store nearby to buy more medical supplies for my feet. I found a “liquid bandage” (basically superglue) and only bought it because a friend over text told me to put superglue on my blisters to act as a barrier to prevent further rubbing.

Day 3! My feet now held together with superglue, blister cushions, and tape… I’m ready. 13-miles. That’s nothing compared to the two previous days. Actually, this proved to be the easiest day. Yes, my feet hurt with every step, but the pain never got worse. No blister bursting this day, and no thought of giving up.

Cathedral of Our Lady of Perpetual Help in Rapid City, SD

Reaching the Cathedral, the same question which posed itself in Sturgis arose. “Is it better to carry a Cross than to follow worldly happiness?” The Pilgrimage is still too fresh to fully answer. I do not fully know what fruits it will bear. But there seems to be new friendships, new trust in the Lord, and new humility asking for help. And there is the knowledge that I can walk 60 (well at least 50 out of the 60) miles. And if “the hardest thing you do, is the hardest thing you ever do,” perhaps next year God will grant the grace to walk it again.

Relived pilgrims on the steps of the Cathedral