I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. I wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love. I felt in myself a superabundance of energy which found no outlet in our quiet life.
Leo Tolstoy, Family Happiness
Exhilarated, my mind flew above the thick undergrowth through which we were trying to cut our way through. We had left the forest trail long back. It was a deliberate choice, for it was my first proper hike and I wanted as raw an experience as possible. The ground was slippery and my poorly equipped feet blooded scratching the shrubbery. We followed a narrow stream of water along the edge of a meadow where bell cows grazed. Enough of bloody scratches, we decided to find the hiking trail again.
Halfway through the path, the trail disappeared into a deep gorge. A gigantic tree had fallen and had taken all the soil with it to the nearby river – which was flowing with momentum and where Kayakers were having plenty of fun. My nearly spent legs strained at the 120-degree angle they had to cover.
But it was worthwhile. We finally reached a flatland – the river had reduced to a narrow stream here. Trousers rolled up thigh-high, shoes abandoned, we ventured into the ice-cold water. Wet stones thick with mosses covered the river bank. We settled on one such stone, sweeping away the snails who had made it their home. Minutes of mindless thinking later, we returned to the warmth of our shoes on the other bank.
The hike led us up the hill to a beautiful village. A couple of buildings populated the scenery. A stone-built old-looking building had a writer’s name – which I long forgot.
Neatly trimmed fields, as far as your eyes can see and the Alps afar. A feast for the eyes and comfort for the nearly spent body.
Dozens of hikes later when I look back I realize the euphoria, the ecstasy remains as new as ever.