Hiking Humility

Hiking can be a humbling experience. The other day I was struggling the last quarter mile or so, which was on a steep incline, to finish a six mile hike.  Part of the struggle was of my own doing.  I had made a wrong turn some three miles back and had gone down a steep half mile section of a wrong trail which I then had to come back up.

. 

So here I was plodding, literally putting one foot in front of the other, to make it up the last section when I heard a cheerful voice singing out just below me.  A man appeared. He was no doubt cheering on his wife and two children who were a short distance behind him. He went on by me and then the wife and two children all of 7 and 8 went on past me as I sat huffing on the side of the trail.

Yesterday, my tee shirt drenched, as I grappled my way up a boulder strewn trail which began in the town of Encamp and would come out at Lake Engolasters, I stood to the side and watched a group of about 50 or 60 chaperoned ten-year-olds coming effortlessly down the same trail they had come up earlier.  Yes, it was the same trail I was struggling up.  Only the last child in the group looked a little tired.

As they passed some looked at me amused, some chatted a word or two.  One of the chaperones, her face no doubt filled with some concern when she looked at my red face and sweat soaked tee, offered in a solicitous tone that it was only fifteen minutes or so more to the top of the trail.

On two occasions on two different trails men doing trail running have sped past me at an unbelievable pace.  Once, I was almost run down by a flying Frenchman on a mountain bike.

I am trying to negotiate trails that are labeled 'Easy' in the local guidebooks.  Heaven help me if  I tried to venture up one that was considered moderate or difficult.  Only one trail had something that I thought I'd encounter on an 'easy trail'.

More often they look like this

or this.

And you not only have to go up them but also come down,

Today I made it midway up a trail and this is what I encountered.

You can see the trail continuing on the other side.  The picture doesn't do the fast runoff snow melt  justice.  I'd left my hiking poles in the car and  figured half a loaf in hiking is better than none and headed back downhill.  But not before enjoying the view.

stopping on the way down to admire some wildflowers.

and a work of tree art, transforming the stub of a limb into

But, all said and done, the scrambling up over dried rock strewn stream beds, pausing repeatedly to catch my breath and then continue on, I am rewarded  for my efforts.  With a view

or two

or even a lake perched up in the mountains at the top of a trail.

Thinking about the 'diet-tribe' in my previous post, I need to fess up about dinner tonight. There were plank steak fries

A couple of blue cheese burgers on a whole wheat baguette with sauteed mushrooms and onions.  And, oh yes, that's homemade mayo on the bread.

And what would a meal be without a glass or two of some good red plonk?

Finally, I have changed apartments.  I'll be here for two and a half weeks.  Here's the view out my window.