Oak Mountain location ... In mid-afternoon, tired of being under the fog, we embark on a trip where we could escape the grayness ... It seems he is fine "up"! It believes in punishment, as moist air and cold pierces us ... The narrow road climbs, winding, and we often arrange to cross with other vehicles: where have they been all these people? In the pastures, too?
Slowly, under cover of large trees, white scarves are taking place, driven by a current invisible ... The first rays of sunshine and light the tops of the beech, the red lighting! Then, finally, they reach us, slipping between the drums, creating extraordinary landscapes ...
When we reach the first peak, the sun is here! Oh, the air is cold, the wind is strong but we feel her warmth imbue us ... Without hesitation, we start with a good step on the rocky trail. We hear cowbells, far away ... Some birds chirping ... Very quickly, the breath begins to fail. Left too soon?
The road becomes
trail and climbs roughly in the forest, away from the sun. While the mind is concentrated on every step to avoid slipping in the mud or on a wet stone. Twenty five minute climb ahead, and driven as I am, I already feel the cramp in the calf, lungs burning. No time to see the moss and lichen, barely time to notice a fern unknown during breaks "to breathe" more and more frequent. I hear birds under cover, but I do not see ... The twenty five minutes are largely outdated and we are always under the trees, the trail becomes increasingly steep and uncertain and the peak appearing increasingly remote. Rabies takes me: "Never," I swear, I will leave without knowing the path, without taking a map ... some concern tip: what if the fog was rising sharply, how can you find? Are we lost? We have not met anyone, despite the number of cars parked. I Gamberg, furious, lungs burning, runny nose, legs shaking ... I think hating the mountain ...
Finally, we arrive on a pasture, uncluttered, and ... Reward: sea fog extends there under our feet, and higher still, there, the cottage is waiting for us. Despite the sharp wind, it's sweaty we affalons on some big rocks to watch the batting layer that coats the landscape. On the other hand, the mountains are silhouetted against the sky accurately and the shadows lengthen already ... The light is clear. We take the time to finally see some crows struggling in the wind, sun-dried thistles, and a few flowers of autumn ...
Hikers, more experienced that we - to see their equipment and their calves tanned and hairless - discuss inside the cottage. We sat outside on the terrace of wood, glued to the cottage to escape the wind and ... is the sun! The cafe is jolly, he plays French songs of the 70s and he tells his youth. We laugh ... we admire, we taste the wine of the region, then from below ...
As the mountain is beautiful!
is a lighter step as we leave for an easier way - but not as nice, we are told. I must admit that all my efforts I did not appreciate the beauty of the vaunted rise. But the descent was easy and not worry, the fog followed the valley bottoms ... We were bathed in the golden late afternoon and this is a joyful heart, despite sore feet, we went back to plain.
How many times have I sworn that no one would take me more? But ... moment of pure happiness, in the mountain air, make me forget that I am desperate efforts to raise me!
