Water. I need water. I'm out of water. All I want is water. I don't care if I never eat food again, all I want is water. Please. S'il vous plait.
We travelled twelve kilometres horizontally to-day, and 2250 metres vertically. And it was intense. The first half was comparatively easy, but still a work-out. The second half, however, right after lunch, may have been the most taxing experience of my life. Basically, we climbed up the side of a mountain, and it was a sheer face. And it came out of nowhere, too; so, it was the great shock of the travail that made it even more unbearable. The sun was constantly at us, beating us down, burning our skin and making our sweaty clothes and our sweaty bodies all the readier for dust and stones to cling to. We spent a good hour and a half climbing up one side of the mountain, almost unceasingly vertically, only to descend a short while on the other side and then climb up three even more difficult slopes. When we finally cleared it all, it had been about six hours on the trail, and we had gone through most of our water. Our guide book gave the time on the trail to be seven and a half hours, which meant that I'd have to ration out my remaining half litre over at least another hour and a half, if not longer.
I ran out about forty minutes later, and the trail was as rocky and full of as many climbs and descents as it had been before. By the end, when we finally found (the) refuge, I felt about dead. I felt about dehydrated. Really. When we got there I drank a litre of water right off, maybe in about seven minutes. I think I began to understand what it means to thirst to-day.
Along the way for the first half, I jokingly (emphasis on jokingly) tallied how many times I nearly died. I think it came to something like three or four. But on the second half my tally got too high and I lost count, and I realised that I was in serious peril at almost all times for the duration of that second portion of the day's hike. The potential for easy death was very nearly always there, with the exception of only a few passes. The times that I either slipt and fell, or was scrambling and partially lost my balance, or was scrambling and just couldn't make it (but in the end very narrowly did), and therefore came seriously close to dying were near a dozen. Seriously. And I think the guide book mentioned that we'd have to 'scramble a little' for this section.
But the first half really was amazing, and all-in-all this first section of the trip was marvellous. The sights, of course, have been stunning; but who would have thought otherwise, we are on a mountain-island in the Mediterranean. There were a few passes, and this great, hilly, grassy, cresting mountain slope (where we ate lunch), where the wind was magnificent. It was one of the greatest things I've felt, and has only been rivaled by the mighty winds I've (now) felt at sea. The wildlife (wild?) has been fun. There were cows, all in a pack, coming down the path to the waterfall (miniature) and pool at which we were resting, once. And we saw a number of goats (which are what I think the GR20 'trails' were for that second (terrible) half: goat paths with red and white paint) while climbing the really rugged parts of the mountain. Not to mention the insects. There are very many bugs here, quite a few of which I've never seen before.
The refuge itself, at which we stayed, was only okay. It had good enough services: there were functioning toilettes, douches, and drinkable water everywhere. And the gas stoves were free, which is good. But at the same time, the whole thing was set on a great hill, full of stones, and brush and shrubbery, and lots of cow and horse poop (and a handful of cows and horses, too). And, by the time we got there, it was nearly full, so it was rather difficult to find a spot to camp. And it was cold, much colder than I thought it would be.
And you know, the funny thing is that once I did have that litre of water, I did actually want more than just it, and I did care if I ever had food again. In fact, I was pretty hungry. But instead of eating right away, we took a four-hour nap. We woke up around 21:00 and had our camp-food: dehydrated, heat-up-some-water-and-add-it-to-the-bag lasagna. And it tasted delicious. We took care of all our hygienic business and then went back up to our tent ('up', as in, 'way up on the stony, shrubbery-and-poop-filled hill that we had to constantly walk up and down just to get anywhere'). I got my flashlight out and read Voltaire's essay, Policy. It was okay. But he didn't stack up to Rousseau.
No comments:
Post a Comment