Dear Christine, Renee, Friends and Followers.

My intention has been to take the posts and photographs of our journey in Spain and render them into a book to give to Britton. I don’t believe the book would be complete without some “Grandfatherly” advice:

Dear Britton.

It has been a little more than a week since we returned to Kansas City from Spain, and today was your first football practice. The rest of the team has been practicing while you were gone. You feared they would be mad at you for “skipping out”. Against your wishes, your mom made you go.

As we predicted, you were enthusiastically welcomed by your coaches and teammates. You also “kicked ass” at the team drills and sprints. After I learned of all this, I sent you a text, “Hey Mr. B. I understand you were greeted by your coach and team as the conquering hero returned from Spain! Congratulations… it’s what I predicted. Love, Grandpa.”

“Love you too. I didn’t think it would turn out like that.” was your reply. To which I then added, “With age comes wisdom!”

Finally, you exclaimed: “Okay Gandalf!!” and followed with a couple of smiley faces.

I will take this exchange as my license to speak to you as your very own “Grandalf”.

I don’t know whether you will be reading this at age 15, 25, 50 or beyond. I don’t know whether you will be sharing it with your child or grandchild. As I write this at age 72, I am mindful that these words and the telling in this book of our adventure together in Spain will long outlive me. I hope that the power of my advice does too.

You are an amazing person. Kind, thoughtful, caring, and so very capable of anything you put your mind to. (Here you must say “Thank you”. Remember, every compliment is a gift!) You also tend to be unsure of yourself, presuming others won’t think you are good enough, strong enough, smart enough… Britton, you ARE good enough, strong enough, smart enough! Do not let your insecurity become a self-fulfilling prophecy. BELIEVE IN YOURSELF!! I believe in you, your Grandmother believes in you, your Mom believes in you, as does anyone who knows you.

Britton, don’t be seduced into believing that adventure is what someone else experiences and then posts on social media. You are fresh back from a REAL adventure, not one made up for video courtesy of big financial sponsors and a huge support crew hidden in the background. It is also not your first adventure that I have witnessed: I watched with tears of pride as your Lacross team descend upon you at the end of the season’s final game. “Brick Wall Benscoter!” they called out… a team that had not won a game until you took the post of goalie in the last 5 games, winning 4 out of 5 of those matches! That’s a REAL adventure.

Opportunities present themselves, often when we least expect them. It is you who must recognize them and act upon them, seizing opportunity and creating your own adventures. I know this because it is how my life has played out.

Adventure is not only hair raising, adrenaline pumping, edge of your seat excitement. Adventure can be the challenge of doing well on a test, achieving a goal at work, getting recognition for a job well done, or even having an attractive “someone” agree to go out with you on a date.

Often, what you want is located on the other side of things you don’t like. You have spoken of several ambitions that you hold. Just as often you have mentioned some things that you don’t particularly like, such as reading, studying, and commitments to long term educational programs. To achieve your goals you will need to embrace and power through some of those things you don’t like. You may find that once you aggressively tackle what you don’t like, your success will bring with it a liking for that thing. This too is “adventure”, the adventure of discovering what you are capable of.

Over 30 years ago I decided that I would never leave unsaid what I considered the most important advice to my children. You have heard me speak these words countess times. I will repeat them here as my final offering to you:

Have Fun. Because life and your pursuit of it should be fun.

Do Good. (Two things) Do what is right, and Do your best.

and Be Safe for the sake of those who love you… as I do.

Peace Britton, Grandpa. (aka, Grandalf the Wise!)

 

 

Dear Friends and Followers.

On June 29th, after a grueling travel day, Britton and I landed in Kansas City and fell into the embraces of Christine, Renee’ and Britton’s siblings. It is quite possible that this one day was the highlight of Britton’s trip.

We flew First Class aboard Air France, as a Delta Airline partner, from Barcellona to Paris. Although seating was 3 seats on each side of the isle throughout the plane, in the small allocated “First-Class” section the center seats were left empty. We were afforded complimentary beverages, mine of the adult variety, and an excellent light meal. In these days of “enhanced security” it is a wonder that table service in First Class includes real metal utensils, including a knife. I guess that terrorists are relegated to Economy. The flight was unremarkable at just under 2 hours. The best was yet to come.

Our bags had been checked through to Minneapolis. So, except for the lingering uncertainty of another “rouge backpack” incident as was experienced at the start of our trip, we were unencumbered.

Non-European Union citizens were required to submit to passport verification, but otherwise proceeding to our next gate was seamless. With our First-Class tickets (one more time, yeah Christine!!) we qualified for entry into any one of the many exclusive Air France lounges which were located throughout the sprawling expanse of Charles De Gaulle Airport. Unfortunately, our layover was too short to take advantage of that perk.

The plane, this time operated by Delta, was being readied for the cross-Atlantic flight away from the terminals. We traveled by shuttle to the wide body plane’s remote location and boarded up a mobile stairway much as was done in the 1960’s and is still done for some dignitaries. Delta One customers (that was us) turned left upon entry, and the rest of the passengers, including “ordinary” First Class passengers went stage right.

Instead of seats, Delta One provides each passenger with a private “suite”.

There are real noise cancelling headphones, a comforter and pillow, slippers, a hand stitched (ours to keep) travel pouch containing toiletries and other small items to enhance comfort, a large screen (by airplane standards) television, and best of all a seat with power controls that adjust all the way from full upright to a fully extended bed. Our Airbus A330 had a total passenger capacity of 281. We were among the 29 who enjoyed the premium level of Delta One comfort and service. In surveying the other 27 passengers I wondered which might be celebrities, retired sports icons, or captains of industry. There were two that caught my eye, one with the eerily familiar face of a character actor and the other an older Black gentleman who was well over 6’6”.

As far as I was concerned, Michael was the real star of the flight. He was our personal assistant. Michael and his partner exclusively served the needs of the 29 Delta One passengers. He was polished in his manners and attentiveness much as one might expect the valet of royalty. “Another cocktail Sir?”… “Was the lamb prepared to your satisfaction?”… (I really ordered lamb)

Britton was in travel heaven! I remarked that he might not have a repeat of this travel experience for many, many years. “Yeah, like maybe never!” was his reply.

As special as all this was, we were still confined in a long metal tube along with 300+ passengers and crew, speeding across the Atlantic Ocean at over 500 miles per hour and nearly 8 miles over the surface of the Earth. If God had meant humans to fly… oh, never mind. I just wanted to get home to my wife and orthopedic physician, in that order.

The greeting at the airport was hurried but loving and welcome. Renee and her crew were heading to Florida in the morning by car. Within 24 hours Britton was transitioning from travel heaven to its equivalent in purgatory. He would have less than 8 hours of down time in over 48 hours of being “on the road”.  Poor guy!

My doctor’s appointment was accommodatingly scheduled for Monday. It went well. I now have appointments for an MRI, followed immediately by an epidural injection. These are the next steps in a conservative exploration of options. Additionally, I will be seeing my chiropractor and massage therapist this week.

In the next week I hope to put my thoughts and “pen” to work on writing a reflection of this extraordinary experience. I repeat, I am not disappointed with the outcome. Britton has repeatedly voiced his intention to return and finish what he and I started. He intends to include his mother and one or more siblings. They seem just as excited to be a part of his continuing pilgrimage as he is. In a Newtonian sense I have put Britton in motion, and an object in motion will remain in motion until otherwise acted upon. I can only hope that life does not interfere with his spirt of pilgrimage. That is out of my hands.

Love to you all. Peace. Pete

 

Dear Christine and Renee.

Day 1 is in the books. Cold, occasional drizzle, 3 hours and 2,000 feet of elevation gain. I’m so glad we made this a short day… I’m beat!

I will let my pictures and captions speak for themselves.

Departure!
Angry clouds threatened throughout the day. 
Four pilgrims from Japan.
Wonderful countryside! 
Two women pilgrims from Brazil. The struggled mightily but ultimately had to call for transport.
I took over 40 pictures today and it was hell trying to figure out which ones to post. 
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t this point I look much happier than I feel!
We heard bells, but knew there was no church. Look who walked around the corner!
ARRIVED!
The view from the Orisson Refuge.
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Britton checking out his bunk.
Two of our roommates, Abbey from Texas and Erica from Ohio.
Our table at dinner.
The gathering. 37 pilgrims.

We are waiting for dinner and I am looking forward to introducing Britton to the other pilgrims. Our room has 6 beds and seems to have been assigned to English speakers. Lou and her partner Gary from New Zealand, Erica and Abbey are teachers from the States, and us.

The room is COLD. The shower (limited to 5 minutes) is tepid but welcome. Let’s hope the food is hot!

Tomorrow is another climb. My fingers are crossed that the weather favors us.

Love to you both, and thank you for sharing your “late night I can’t sleep thoughts, Renee. They brought me to tears and mean so much to me. Love. Dad

From my daughter Renee to Britton on our 1st Day:

“My late night I can’t sleep thoughts:

Ya know it’s funny how so much changes and yet stays so solidly the same. When dad was just my dad, long before he became anyone’s grandpa, I thought his turtle-like tendencies were insane (let’s be real, I still might). Who the heck wants to carry their house on their back for weeks at a time?!?! But he did, and he drug me kicking and screaming along with him as we descended into the woods. No cell phone, no AirPods, nothing but what we could carry for a couple weeks at a time. And as evidenced by my face in all the pictures – I was not amused. And here we are and life has come full circle. Except now it’s my youngest son lugging his worldly possessions along side his grandpa. And while the idea of carrying an emergency roll of toilet paper and wearing the same socks for three days in a row wasn’t my speed, it seems to be his. Perhaps if my destination had been as exotic, the oatmeal became chocolate croissants, and the tang was a nice glass of wine at the end of the day, I would have felt different. But somehow I doubt it. I guess those turtle like tendencies must skip a generation. Because it seems that if you’re patient enough to wait a few decades, you’ll find your perfect backpack buddy. I’m so dang happy for you both that you can be turtles together. Be safe and walk proudly. Love, Mom”

Dear Christine and Renee.

I expected to enjoy my time on this journey with Britton but I can’t say that I expected him to be such a delightful traveling companion. Kind, thoughtful, and patient. He is beyond his years. I know that we are barely into this trip but I think that I am seeing Britton at his core, the person he is and will be.

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The flight from Kansas City to Atlanta was nondescript but pleasant. The trip from Atlanta to Paris was excellent as we were treated to high class accommodations.

 

There was plenty of room to stretch out, real food, real silverware, and real wine for me, Sprite for Britton. I fear that I may have spoiled him to the point that he will no longer be satisfied flying economy coach.

 

The “fly in the ointment” was discovered when I looked on my Delta App and saw that my bag was happily onboard, traveling with us across the Atlantic. Britton‘s bag took an unscheduled detour. I felt my anxiety rise and expressed my concern to Britton. He merely shrugged his shoulders and said that since there was nothing we could do about it at the moment, why worry. Amazing at only 15! 

Ultimately, I was able to secure enough information and contact the necessary authorities to arrange for a departure of the errant bag on the next flight to Paris, and then to Biarritz. With luck it will arrive before noon today. We will have to travel to the airport to retrieve it, €50 round-trip by taxi. I understand that Delta will pay compensation.

Last night neither Britton nor I felt particularly hungry after the stress of 20 hours of nonstop travel, but we forced ourselves to find a bite and a drink. What we found was a delightful nightlife at street-side restaurants where tapas were the order of the night.

 

 

We enjoyed four different tapas: spicy potatoes, roasted red peppers in sauce, ham and cheese croquettes, and blood sausage with a raw egg yolk.

 

All were new to Britton and he certainly found his appetite! Me too. Mineral water for Britton, an excellent wine for me, and we closed with dessert.

 

There are some very deep pockets in this town, and we overheard an order being placed for €5000 bottle of wine (about $5,500.00)! 

A hot shower and comfortable beds were the welcome finish to what had been an arduous day.

Love to both of you. Peace. Dad

PS. We just got a call from the airport. The bag has arrived! 

Our Hotel.

Written at Biarritz, France, 7 June. 

A few more pictures from Biarritz:

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Dear Christine and Renee.

I am writing this the Sunday before Britton and I depart for our trek across Spain. I have timed it so that you will be reading it sometime while we are flying over the Atlantic. I find my thoughts drawn to each of you, and of course to him. There are others, the loving hands that reach through to give me strength and a nurturing spirit. I am consciously coming to grips with the responsibility of watching over and caring for one of the dearest treasures that life has given you as Mother and Grandmother.

We are not “islands”, disconnected from the line of our ancestors. We are the product of genetics which determines our height, eye color, hair color… and those other things which decide what we look like. To an extent, genetics also determines personality, but here we have some self-determination. I have never learned to overcome my wanderlust, but I have chosen to embrace my emotions. I willingly recognize the “female” side of my humanness.

I feel the touch of my Mother and my Grandmother.

I sense the touch of Christine upon you Renee,

…My touch upon you…

…And your touch upon Britton.

We are not isolated islands, but an endless archipelago, a family chain of individuals linked by the love and caring of preceding generations.

There has been much said about what an extraordinary experience I am providing to Britton. However, in giving a measure I am receiving back a greater measure. (Luke 6:38)

Please understand that each of you, in trusting, have given me and him this gift.
Thank you. Peace, Dad.

PS. June 6, over the Atlantic. Three of us are having a really nice flight. Britton, me, and my bag. Unfortunately, Britton’s bag decided to spend an extra day in Atlanta. Hopefully it will catch up to us tomorrow. 

Britton and his Great Grandfather, William “Bill” Nichols (1918-2020).