Post by account_disabled on Dec 11, 2023 20:55:22 GMT -8
At 5.30 pm there was a halt. The sun was disappearing behind the western ridges, the sky was still overcast and the temperature was dropping. We found a flat spot and set up the tent. Against the law that prohibits bivouacs and campsites. “Who do you want to see us up there?”, Braschi had said days before, when the trip was being planned. «The Forestry, for example.» «Never seen it in fifteen years of trekking in the mountains.» “Maybe it's time someone arrests you.” We continued in that vein until the trip was finalized in all the details.
And now we were in our tent preparing dinner. “Out with the stove.” Mancini was always afraid that the tent would catch fire. Braschi sent him to hell and he went out. We heard him urinate a few meters away from us and Mancini cursed. “But couldn't he have gone any further?” “Come on, he'll cover it with snow.” "Of course?" We had dinner. We stayed talking Phone Number Data until 10pm, then we each got into his own sleeping bag. We fell asleep immediately. Day 2 6.30 am, wake up call. 7.10 am, on the way. Hoping to find footprints. The weather had improved, just a few clouds dirtiing the blue. The cold was making itself felt at that hour. Lunch time came and went. Forest, forest, more forest. It seemed endless.
The landscape was always the same wherever we turned. No more trail since the day before. No more civilization. In the first hours of walking yesterday, the road returned from time to time, a distant strip of asphalt lost among the mountains. Isolated buildings told us that someone was going there and working. But now there was just us and the mountain. And who lived there. “What are these?” We ran to see, Braschi and I. Mancini drove as usual, always first, always ahead. Montano by passion, citizen by obligation. However, when you met him on the street, you couldn't distinguish whether he was going to work or going on an excursion. He was always an operational man. “Paws,” I said. "Wolf?" asked Braschi. «Yes», confirmed Mancini. A straight line that was lost in the heart of the woods. And we follow.
And now we were in our tent preparing dinner. “Out with the stove.” Mancini was always afraid that the tent would catch fire. Braschi sent him to hell and he went out. We heard him urinate a few meters away from us and Mancini cursed. “But couldn't he have gone any further?” “Come on, he'll cover it with snow.” "Of course?" We had dinner. We stayed talking Phone Number Data until 10pm, then we each got into his own sleeping bag. We fell asleep immediately. Day 2 6.30 am, wake up call. 7.10 am, on the way. Hoping to find footprints. The weather had improved, just a few clouds dirtiing the blue. The cold was making itself felt at that hour. Lunch time came and went. Forest, forest, more forest. It seemed endless.
The landscape was always the same wherever we turned. No more trail since the day before. No more civilization. In the first hours of walking yesterday, the road returned from time to time, a distant strip of asphalt lost among the mountains. Isolated buildings told us that someone was going there and working. But now there was just us and the mountain. And who lived there. “What are these?” We ran to see, Braschi and I. Mancini drove as usual, always first, always ahead. Montano by passion, citizen by obligation. However, when you met him on the street, you couldn't distinguish whether he was going to work or going on an excursion. He was always an operational man. “Paws,” I said. "Wolf?" asked Braschi. «Yes», confirmed Mancini. A straight line that was lost in the heart of the woods. And we follow.