Bruce Springsteen's lyrics floated through my head as I walked the exquisite, mostly flat, sometimes a bit hilly, mostly treeless and shadeless 13+ mile stretch of big-sky country between Tardajos, where I spent last night, and Hontanas, a village where I've stopped for the night.

A lovely day, with a consistently beautiful landscape and a range of people, weather, and feelings. I walked briefly with folks from Germany, Switzerland, Australia, and England, and the conversations were easy and interesting. But I spent the majority of the time on my own walking on the relatively easy dirt and gravel path through fields of grain as far as the eye could see. For much of the day the sun was strong but the temps were lower than yesterday and there was a refreshing breeze. For the first several hours my body felt good and strong, my feet were barely murmuring, my stride hit just the right rhythm and there were moments that felt like perfection. I must have been experiencing what people refer to as runners' euphoria. It felt so right to be crossing the planet at two or three miles per hour.

As the day wore on the sun got stronger and hotter, and at around the 11 mile mark I wished I was done. But then the clouds thickened and it started to rain very gently. How wonderful! It doused the sun, cut the heat, didn't drench my pack, and raised my mood, and the final couple of miles were not so bad. If I were a religious man I might have seen it as a gift from God, but for now I'll attribute it to good luck and perfect timing.