GR5 - Day 27 - Up

11.05
The sky is dark, and blindingly white, too. Gusts of wind tear through the land, I stumble. And walk on. Piling formations of clouds like slate ships sailing overhead, their sharp silver lining. Rain ahead. Always rain ahead, until it's here already.

I have hotspots on my heels and toes from the new shoes - the first real blisters since I left Brussels. Today I'm climbing Mount Donon. I know I'll be drenched; I'll probably sleep outside; the uphill begins.

And still I feel euphoric. Biting at the bit to go. Go. Walk this thing. Howl when the wind howls, brace forward, and walk. Like those birds of prey dancing, tumbling overhead. Like the hare's ears held up shaking overgrass, nose to the wind. Looking out.

In the first shelter, by the side of the road in Niderhoff, I met Franz-Jan. I'd seen him in Stavelot; three weeks ago! Tall and lean, all muscle and sinew and calm, cut from the same mold as the other Dutch hikers I've met and passed on the way. But Franz Jan - he started in Maastricht and is in for the long run : Nice. Nice! I'm glad.

In the second shelter, under the tall eaves of the St-Quirin church, I rest. I charge my phone by the choir, have nuts and beet-horseradish spread on bread. I won't go the extra 10k through Abreshviller just to make a U-turn over the same hill before climbing the Donon; I'll go up directly, get as high as I can and crest the summit in the morning. It's so cold, it is.

In the third shelter, of dark wooden beams and benches by the trail, I will sleep. The path is drowned in fog, clouds come in through the planks, I've hung my outer tent in the door to stop the wind. I put on extra layers, and gloves, and read the guestbook for the shelter. There are at least four Dutch people on the path this spring, ahead of Franz-Jan and I. The closest are ten days ahead. Some, I read, came through here in October heading south : but how did they cross the Alps in the winter?
I set up my tent right on the shelter table, glad for the extra cloth, and snuggle in. The night is dark. No city lights, direct or reflected. Owls and birds, and the rain dripping from all trees. I sleep.