Early going as we approach and climb the side of the waterfall.
Earlier, one of us was stranded on the mountain for twenty minutes, not finding a path down and had the horrid thought about requiring rescue. Later, when I saw the rescue helicopter on our return, it became an emotional moment.
There are hikes/climbs that separate the girls from the women and this might just be one of them.
The sign displayed 'No Entry' when we reached one of the high points on the trail, a few hundred feet below the peak. However, when we looked at the climb leading from beyond the sign, we noticed a number of hikers struggling upwards. What to do? I asked one of the men standing at the sign to explain. "Deutsch or English?" He asked. Don't you like choice.
"English," was the obvious reply.
"Nein," he answered.
I thought paying nine Euros was a little pricey for some advice. "Don't be dumb," Jenni said, "He means he can't speak English."
"Then why did he give us the option?" I retorted. Jenni seems to shake her head and roll her eyes quite a bit. I hope her lenses don't pop out.
So there we were. Obey the regulations and miss the peak or ... not. So we did the 'not' part which was fantastic except for the section when I could not find my way back. 'Serves you right', you may say. Probably correct but it never is as simple as that. From the peak, I found my way back but not via the same route as the outgoing leg. I stopped when I could not see my intended destination. In the end, that route would have worked but I decided against taking the chance—unusual decision. I returned to the peak to try to trace the original 'path'. I knew I had to make my way to a gully between mountains where I had crossed earlier. Long story short: A few hairy moments but 'all's well that ends well'. Yeah right!
Years ago, we learned a great lesson; many in fact which continues on an ongoing basis. Whenever we whine and moan on a tough trail, we remember the trials and tribulations of at least two of our friends. Paul Shtein and Lionel Greenberg. These men fought their way back from the brink; I'm crying about a little pain on the trail. It's embarrassing. They are truly inspirational. Thanks, fellas.
Reaching the highpoint. Quite a climb, hike, view and a difficult return.
Jen thinking about the tricky and slippery next phase.
Not all shortcuts make sense.
Never tire of reflections.
Looking back to the commencement point somewhere below.
The contrast, from above, when looking at the same destination but from a peak across the valley.
Looking forward to the next hurdle...and preferring the trail back.
The underfoot and climbs a trifle rough.
Softened in the early going.
Some tough hurdles.
Pretty rough part of the country.
A view from the top; the other side of the mountain.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
Addendum:
Appreciation, often expressed using perhaps a slightly better word, 'grateful', is a characteristic that completes one's humanity. While one can look around and easily observe and feel the ugliness of our species, it would be too easy to dismiss humanity. I suppose one reaches a certain age when one has seen, read of and heard enough negativity to reach a conclusion that man is a failed experiment. In fact, the sages reached that same conclusion some 2,000 years ago—nothing new. Since then, despite the enormous strides in technological advancement, it would not necessarily be a pessimist who might deduce our behavior, if not worse, certainly has not advanced. Call me a pessimist but I would vote on the side of a poorer level of behavior. With the knowledge, experience, benefits of hindsight, failure to recognize decency as a primary goal, historical perspective and of course technology, we could be a better species—we should be.
The world and its inhabitants are too large, far too complex to understand. At any rate, it's certainly way beyond my comprehension. This does not mean we are drowning and beyond hope. To the contrary, one of the ways I survive and yes, sometimes flourish, is to reduce things to micro situations and understanding. Briefly, at times it is important—no vital—to observe and celebrate the kindness that people perform. And there are many, just not sufficient for such a large population. Jen and I have observed and been on the receiving end of some beautiful and humbling moments. Most of them are simple deeds performed by strangers or at least, people we hardly knew. We are not talking about major or earth-shattering deeds. No. Rather, one human being moved to help another, friend or stranger. Why? Because. Is there a need for a reason? Perhaps that's the point.
Many years ago, I read and listened to the concept we learn from Abraham. Whether a person is a believer or not, it's not my business or concern. But I think the concept of Abraham arguing with God to allow humanity to survive and continue, for no reason other than the existence of a few righteous people and their deeds, is remarkable. I really get the concept—it is truly magnificent.
What prompted me to write this addendum? From time to time, we have acknowledged the kindness of both friends and strangers. Today, I feel I would like to dedicate these thoughts to four sets of people whom we have met on the trails over the years. More specifically, the messages we received via email from Joanne and Ron Allegretto of British Columbia, Betty and Barry Jahn of Salem, Doug Morton of Pietermaritzburg, South Africa and those from Jonna and Tim of Florida, make a huge difference. In fact, the emails received recently from Ron and Barry in particular, had a surreal effect on me. At one stage, I was 'moved to remain' in a sort of time-warp, for want of a better term. Thank you! (I'd guess Jen would like to see me in that state more often.)
Forgive us for not mentioning so many other people but it needed to be written at this moment. Thank you to all.
A softer look in the same region but in another valley.
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