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Born from an Egg on a Mountaintop

GEORGIA | Tuesday, 10 August 2010 | Views [1120]

and with thoughts flying across snow-capped peaks on a fluffy cloud still lingering, i'm back from another jaunt. like the adventures of TinTin, or Calvin and Hobbs, or even our beloved Monkey Magic, the next series of escapades would not be complete without a Partner In Crime. and so it was, with a rapturous round of applause, I strode off into the semi-known with Griet for another trekking adventure that would turn out to be frighteningly beautiful.

It was a route of our own design. avoiding the easy bits, the regular passes, the villages and what little tourist-trekkers there were. with a slight pause as we wondered how much trail-finding we would need to do, we slunked off toward Kazbegi, in preparation to spend two weeks hiking the Caucasus mountains from Juta in Khevsureti to Omalo in Tusheti. we navigated across Shepherd's trails that apparently seeped through centuries of use and disuse. trails that pattered in and out of existence as our muscles ached and our bones lurched onward over more passes and views of startling grandeur. scenes that made us weep. "villages" with only a single family and some busted old Soviet caravans. imposing mountains, wild horses, pouring rain, wild berries. mountains that just got bigger until they were right in our face and views that went aaallll the way down. our own bread baked in improvised stone ovens, viscious shepherd's dogs, and hilarious shepherds, lost Germans, and lost worlds. Chechnyans and Georgian arms dealers. river crossings, lost trails, gigantic glacier-carved valleys. birds of prey circling on thermals; falcons, hawks, and mighty eagles. bathing in snow-fed rivers, and camping in perfect silence. days along razor-backed ridgelines, perched on ridgleines camping at altitude near snow-melt for water. idyllic mountain lakes, springs, meadowed plateaus and abandoned shepherds huts.  frighteningly beautiful.

stay tuned as i retroactively plant some verbal scenery of the adventure Griet and I evolved and tamed in our quest for solitude, serenity, and that feeling of being Born from an Egg on a Mountaintop. the punkiest monkey that ever popped.

hugs and love from the Caucasus Mountains

Joe

Tags: trekking

 

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