Herding up to The Heights

As a result of the clouds being so low down into the valley that they were pretty much underground, I decided in my free-time afternoon I'd go for a bloody clamber and a stomp and a run and a trek, and whatever other physically alive pursuit I could introduce in order to explore and adventure the dark grey but heavily atmospheric afternoon away. There was at least four hours of acceptable daylight remaining so I figured that I could conquer the La Pierre a Bosson high altitude path that leads up towards a ginormous glacier above Argentiere. Listening to a feast of fandangled ferociousness from Philip Glass, I crept and swept my way to higher climates and soon I began passing different levels of clouds, rejoicing to myself and the great dramatic lands that surrounded me as the rain turned to snow. The ground that I knew as home was now a distant view far beneath my trekking feet, and as the air drew thinner, I indulged no shame in pausing for longer moments to piece together my geography of the map that lay so far away. I'd flatten my face to the sky in welcoming receipt for the globules of snow that made their interrupted way to my visage that must've been emulating a fine mist of steam as a result of my voyaging efforts.

Unfortunately I didn't quite make it all the way to the glacier, as pictured on the far right of this montage is the final bridge that would lead me there- complete with ginormous boulders of ice that sat on the other side doing a thorough job at warding me away. But skipping back down to 1200 metres I felt so unbelievably elated to be alive*; it would seem that there is no end to the possibilities of adventures when so immersed by a surrounding of ice and rocks and wood.

*apologies for the corniness of this line