…and I start to climb and climb and climb. From the river’s edge to meet the rising sun. Out of the shadows, layer upon layer of blue-green hills stretch away and morph into the sky. Out of the valley and onto the plateau, the horizon jagged like the torn edge of a piece of paper. Land ripples and rolls, rouleur country. Below to my left mist betrays the course of the river in the gorge. To my right the silhouettes of the big hills loom. That is where I’m heading.
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