Saturday, 24 February 2018

Brnica, 457 m :P

Doesn't look like much, but imagine it in snow :D 22 km of smiwwing upstream that was :P
Using plastic sandwich wrap I stole from my kitchen to gaiter my legs and shoes, I decided today to descend a showed-in hill. It was fun! So much fun in fact that at one point the dog ran away and it took me half an hour of backtracking to find her, because she actually went back to where we came from (the cottage.)
I do hope she did it because she was chasing a fox and not because she hates me. The fact is, even after hours of ploughing the show, she is still playful and energetic, so, does she fucking hate the damn hikes or not?
Yenihoo. I told G we’re off, but he called and asked to wait a bit, so we went the grocery store first. It wasn’t opened before eight and we sat down for coffee and to play chess across the street until they were. Then we were off. I packed almost proper this time, the hiking backpack, though still it was full of redundancies. You have to get to a hanging bridge first, and then up and up – where an older gentleman stroke a conversation with me and it turns out he was going to the exact same spot. Good thing, too, because I’ve never gone that route and it was so packed with snow I’d have ignored some of the markings in hopes this surely can’t be the right way …
But he was fast so we were up in no-time and he paid for my tea. I am still heart-struck for the tea I had the other day at G’s mother’s place .. She said she just picked whatever the meadow was giving – thyme, mint, chamomiles, milfoil … That shit was sublime. The one I had in the cottage, alas, did not compare.
I decided to return crossing a large hill between where we were and home. They disadvised, as it was snowed-in and I’ve never been here before, but the cottage keeper lady said the path is well marked and surely someone’s gone there before.
I was lucky – where I was supposed to turn and it appeared like there was a fork, dogs came barking at us and I just took the first path fast away. It could have been the wrong one, but it wasn’t. And for a while someone’s gone there before us, so we weren’t the absolute first. The snow was thigh-high, but it was the puffiest, softest, lightest snow ever. That was lucky, too.
Once we were threading virgin snow, I had to re-adjust my plastic wrap and suddenly, the dog was nowhere to be found. She simply took off, back to where we came from. I started calling and following her trail, up until when I was ready to say: fuck it, I’ll deal with her tomorrow; someone will find her. But fortunately she showed her stupid little head out of the snow on the other side of a meadow and then came running back to me. I also smelled several pockets of intense sweet rotting smell – the kind you smell if you’re standing really close to a boar sleeping spot. Or a fox. I’m sure there were plenty animals looking at what the fuck are we doing?, I just didn’t want to find myself faced with a pack of boars.
After a few hours, we made it back to a path that’s been walked by someone with a large black dog. That led to a better-walked forest road following a stream and finally we made it to the hanging bridge. I called G to wake him up and tell him we’ve successfully completed out pioneering hike of the tiny hill.  I managed to crawl home, as my feet hurt unnaturally, out of shape that they are. I couldn’t even nap properly, I was so tired. G made me get up so I’ll be able to rest at night. I’m sleepy and happy as a baby duck. The day was lovely. It’d had been perfect if g was with me, so I could blame him on the dog running away, but it was perfect nonetheless :D

Pickies are from a phone, so bare with me :D 

This way? You sure?

It says 'hanging bridge'. All I needed to hear.

Almost back in civilisation ... rivers and roads are a good sign :P