I was making my lunch and waiting for my eggs to cook when I glanced at my Facebook newsfeed.
What I saw was incomprehensible.
It was a post sharing the news that a fellow pilgrim/blogger/writer friend had recently passed away. I stared and stared and couldn’t make sense of the words or the photo. I’m writing about it here, in part, to pass along the news to others who may not have already heard, because surely some of my blog readers were also followers of hers: Kat Davis, of Following the Arrows.
There are few details at this time; Kat’s partner, Howard, shared news that she passed on February 28th. There is a thread on the Camino forum, here.
Kat was a young woman who had hiked more routes than you can count: countless Camino paths, two pilgrimage trails in Japan, the PCT in California, all over the UK, and more.
I’d never met Kat, but I feel like I’ve known her for a long time. When had I found her blog? Was it before my first Camino, back in 2014? Or maybe a year later? Whenever it was, it was early-on in my walking adventure days. I remember reading about Kat’s journey on the Camino de Primitivo, and noticing that her blog header photo was a beautiful image from the route. When I left to walk my own Primitivo in 2015, I remember searching for the spot where she took her photo. I think I found it, but my photo was full of clouds and gray skies, with none of the rolling hills and glorious sunshine that Kat was able to capture.
In the last few days, I’ve thought a lot about the idea of community. I’ve been living in my little apartment for a long time, and I know some of my neighbors but I wouldn’t call the people who live in my neighborhood my community. The idea of community has taken on a very different meaning in our digital age, and in these last 5 or 6 years, I’ve come to recognize that my largest and strongest community is my fellow long-distance walkers. The pilgrims, the trekkers. I’ve met many in person, whether it’s been on a trail- in Spain, in France, in the UK-, or in my local APOC Philadelphia chapter. But the larger part of the community exists somewhere else, somewhere behind the curtain. Through my blog, through Instagram, through Facebook groups and Camino forums, I’ve been able to connect with other pilgrims and walkers. And sometimes it’s more than just connection, sometimes it’s friendship.

Photos from a hike: March 1, 2020
The loss of Kat has rattled me. We’d never met, why should I be so shaken? But she was part of my community. We’d exchanged messages: about our travels plans and our photography. Late last summer, as I was coming off of my walk on the Norte and Kat was just about to start hers, she messaged me, asking for advice. I warned her that the trail might be crowded, and sent the names of some of my favorite albergues. A few months before, at the end of June when I was on the Camino Aragones, I received a message from Alan, another Camino friend, who I’d met briefly in northern Spain in 2016. He sent a photo with the note- “Look who I bumped into today…” and it was Kat, the two of them together, their smiles and shining faces. I didn’t even know Alan all that well but did it matter? We were all connected- he and Kat, because of their journeys through Japan… and Kat and I, because of our blogs… and Alan and I, because of the time we overlapped on the Norte.
And it’s this, I think. This interconnection, this invisible thread that binds so many of us. There’s Kat, and there’s all the rest of you, so many of you who are reading this post. We may have never met on a Camino or anywhere in the “real world”, but the connection is there. Losing someone from this community is losing a friend. I feel it as though that thread is tugging at my gut, tugging and tugging, invisible yet felt with a force I didn’t know existed. One falls, and it pulls me down a little, causing me to stumble and miss more than a step or two.
Steps. I’ve often felt that I’ve been a few steps behind Kat, always looking to her blog to learn of new paths, new adventures. The route I’ve planned for my April pilgrimage on the Kumano Kodo was taken point by point from her own journey. I have a document of the trip with my daily stages and accommodations and in more than one place I’ve written her name: “This is where Kat stayed!” I’m planning to walk the Camino Portuguese this summer, and a few months ago ordered the Cicerone guidebook that she authored. Kat’s been one of my role models, as I’ve become a pilgrim and a long-distance walker. I’ve watched her, with respect and admiration, a strong and adventurous woman setting off on paths around the world, alone.
After I heard the news I left my apartment for a walk. I was going to go to the state park where I always hike, to the trails I’ve walked hundreds of times. But I decided, instead, that it was time to try something new. I drove to a wildlife refuge just 20 minutes from where I live- so close, but somehow a place I’d never before explored. I walked down the long path in the sunshine, through a landscape of tidal marsh, the sky so blue, the call of geese shouting overhead. It was beautiful.
To Kat, may I long follow in your footsteps.
Oh, Nadine. I’m so sorry for losing Kat, your inspiration and pilgrim sister. I know well the pain of sudden loss of someone inspiring whose life–tho never in real time–was just as real as an in-person friendship. And so young!
For what it’s worth, you are one of those cherished souls to me. More adventurous, more willing to make the time, more willing to stay on the challenging path when I know I would have bailed and taken the bus. 🙂 I’m sure I’ve said so before, but wanted to remind you that you too inspire and that my life is better for our online acquaintance.
In fact, I’m seriously debating time at La Muse next summer–and it’s thanks you to for reminding me to honor my writing as much as my journeying.
Buen camino, sister. A la prochaine.
Thank you so much for this wonderful tribute to Kat. I have followed her blogs from almost day 1 and even briefly emailed chatted with her while she walked the PCT. When I heard the sad, sad news I too could not believe it. I cannot express my grief in words, but I have been thinking about Kat’s joie de vivre for days. She was a special person. The virtual community can also be special as you so well articulate. Thank you again for your thoughts and blogs. Namaste.
What a lovely post… like you I started following Kat’s arrows when I started planning my first camino and like you I was so shocked to read the post about her death. Last year I lost my walking buddy… she was only 53 and her illness was swift and ferocious… it made me realise that life is fragile and should be lived. Kat certainly did a lot of living… albeit in far too short a time <3
Thank you for your post. Katrina and i went to high school together and I have known her for 28 years, she was an amazing friend and no matter where she was, always asked me about my life, what I was doing. She inspired me all the time to live better, to be better. When I lived in London, she helped me so much. I have followed her adventures over the years and it gives me so much solace to read about all the lives that she has touched. Thank you so much for writing this beautiful post 💗
I, like you, had never met Kat in person. I too love walking, all over the world. A work colleague & personal friend of mine, who is Kat’s aunt, suggested I follow her blogs. I started when she walked the PCT. I was amazed and inspired. When I walked from Malaga to Santiago, the camino mozarabe, Kat too thought I was amazing.
I loved her photographic flair, her eloquence with words, her generosity of spirit and friendship.
I too am heartbroken for a fellow trekker that I will now never meet.
My heart aches for Howard.
Such a loss for all whose lives she touched
Hi Nadine
I was lucky enough to share the first 11 days of Kats first Camino – the 2013 Few ch Way Camino. I was on a shorter program and I was sad to part company with her but followed her blogs from there on.
She was a lovely and inspiring person – and just grew with all her adventures.
Your blog is amazing thank you – I just wish that you also could have shared time with her
With best
Hans