It snowed overnight in the mountains, which is making the final ascent of my trek interesting. My socks and shoes are long since wet from a trailing foot that didn't quite match the forefoot's leap across a river.
On the way down, the steepest sections of the track are falling apart under my feet. Half the time, I'm sliding down in a surfing stance, desperately trying not to land on my arse. I am falling on my arse - quite a lot. I've soon learned that when dry, tree roots are perfect ladders for climbing up and down. When they're wet, they the slippery snake bastards that'll land you on your arse. I'm also gathering that my BMX circuits do not have a one-to-one correlation with steep hiking.
Returning through a much more straight forward route than the wet directionless fields and forests I came through, I'm guessing I could have saved an hour or two that I'd spent lost, aimlessly trying to find the start of the marked trek. Nevermind though, off-piste trekking feel much more heroic.
No comments:
Post a Comment