Lazarow World-Hike-About: 68.02 Andorra: El Cubil Petit...now you're talking of thrills and adventure.

El Cubil Petit Peak is that on the right. An inch to the right of the peak is a tiny white dot. Bear that in mind.

After walking for an hour and gaining 1,340 feet, we reach the base of the mountain, facing an extremely sharp further 700 feet. Often, we are tempted to take shorter routes; however, on this occasion we did not until the return trip during which we made our own path directly down numerous slopes. Jen is going to attempt the climb, hopefully, illustrating a path leading to the peak. There are 4 false peaks followed by the actual top which we hope to reach. Because the experience was once again so meaningful and 'Jen is older' than on the previous occasions, we added some text later which perhaps provides more meaning to this adventure.

Having reached the base of this mountain which rests on another mountain itself, notice the vertical gain relative to the distant walked/climbed.

Keeping an eye on our car in the park below.

This part of the scramble becomes somewhat rocky and colorful.

Never realized how many moves Jenni really has.

Let's take a breather and peek over the edge. Oops! Forgot cozzies (bathing suits).

Hang on! Let's wait for 'lazy bones'.

Jen's in a hurry. It's 11:30am and she has yet to eat breakfast.

Some color, a view of one of the many valleys and of course, our star who might have forgotten what it's like to stand erect.

Welcome home...on the rocks.

We are approaching the third peak. Notice the white tank (mentioned in opening photograph).

And now for some (rough) perspective. This is a replica (with blue lines) of the opening picture showing El Cubil Petit resting on a mountain. We have marked the peak and 4 false ones. Looking at the profile, from our hiking positions and the valley (generally the right side), one can only see the first false peak (right most blue line.) Left of the middle blue line, the white dot is the tank mentioned above.

A little humbling at times...maybe, a lot.

Time for some real rock climbing as we have to negotiate a tight edge above. Abyss to the left.

No! Still time for a break. Actually, he's sitting on the cliff edge. They don't build for comfort and safety in Andorra.

'Hurry up', she shouts. She doesn't realize that's the strategy...to drive her up the wall.

The strangest phenomenon. The higher we go, the more the pond shrinks. Go figure!

Hats off to Jen! The 'star' twinkles, deservedly so.

The white tank is now below.

A few lakes only viewable from height.

Plotting the route home by car while looking toward France. We've turned our backs on Spain.

In our parlance: 'A Beaut' as opposed to a butte.

A revisit of Jen's arrival. One can now see why the peak cannot be viewed from along the route.

He lags behind Jen but eventually joins her at the peak.

Each day there's usually a lesson to be learned, a challenge to be met (actually many of various degrees), while life's to be lived and enjoyed. At times, one tends to forget some of these components while struggling with frustrations, illness and many other facets of daily existence. Apparently, we were not promised a smooth ride. We love challenges but are quick to admit there are some we'd prefer not to face (ever). We don't want health issues, we don't want to see people and ourselves hurt, etc. However, we do wish to face experiences that create a struggle which tests us and ideally allows us to meet it provided we apply a strong, positive and responsible effort. Physical hurdles including an element of mental strength are the ideal which we tend to experience almost daily.

Today was one such day. We set out up a mountain heading toward a another 5-part peak sitting upon the first mentioned base mountain. We hope that makes some sense. The latter mountain has a name: Cubil Petit. While there was nothing petite or cute about it, it certainly is small by comparison with many others. However, it's designed to make life difficult for a person to reach its summit, which has 4 false peaks on the way up. From the outset, it's steep, rough and has a sort of path which may have been designed by a psychopath. Of the pictures shown in the blog, they only display part of the little 'cutie'. The other portions of the remaining half are positioned out of view further behind it.

One other aspect worth mentioning is something we have thought about over the years. Life requires a person to display a certain level of courage to succeed, we'd suggest. Some activities require higher levels of courage or bravery, for instance. Having thought this through, we came to the conclusion many years ago, while a macho sort of fellow might be courageous, it is not necessarily true. The converse is that a meek or fearful person may be a coward, but this is also not necessarily apt. We arrived at the conclusion that a true person of courage is one that is fearful, even afraid, nervous, scared and yet faces the challenge full on and fights it. One's broad shoulders, large muscles and tough talk are window dressing. The person of courage, or one who is brave, is one who attempts to face the challenge despite feeling cowardly or afraid. Those that never or seldom feel fear are not necessarily brave or courageous. Perhaps, their genes don't understand fear and therefore, they face no real challenge.

So, what's the purpose of this 'beginning to sound like a minor tome, or should that be tomb'? When we faced the latter part of the climb, (something we'd completed 9 and 3 years before respectively), I could see the fear on Jenni's face. I wasn't actually feeling that sprightly myself. There were no other hikers around, in fact, none at all times. A path was not easily visible and the height of the climb confronting us was only partially on display, roughly 50%. Frankly, it appeared to be close to vertical. The redeeming feature was the pink flower bushes spread over the mountain. They would cheer us up, wouldn't they? Would it be wise to attempt the climb and fair to Jenni to have such pressure placed upon her, even implied. I realized she was fearful. I understood exactly why she should feel that way. As I'm subjective on matters dealing with Jenni, it's probably not ideal for me to even be making these comments.

Therefore, I'll conclude. Once again, I witnessed the actions of a person who was nervous, fearful and perhaps, scared. On numerous occasions from the commencement, I suggested we could turn around. Not once did she falter, hesitate or offer an excuse. I was in the company of a person of valor, of courage, of bravery. Guess who felt the dummy?

The way back down amongst gorgeous coloring.