Mountains in between
Rivers by their very definition are separated by their watersheds, which are usually defined by hills or mountains. From the offset I knew that no matter how hard I tried I would be going uphill at some stage (believe me I poured over Google map to try find an easy way East). Sadly, no matter how much prep I did cycling between pubs in the rolling hills of the Home Counties, I’ve been well and truly caught off guard this trip. Climbing hills for me is like swimming against a tide. With my rotund backside and propensity for a fat back (thank you genes) it is as if I am pulling a literal parachute up with me. Many a honk and an angry Frenchman have I seen whizz pass me as I struggle up a steep hairpin bend; and nothing quite lifts the morale than seeing a queue behind you going up a sheer face.
However, whilst these climbs might actually push me to new found uncomfortable physical limits, I have begun to realise just how much they make the expedition what it is. This is not me undergoing a metamorphosis into the new Bradley Wiggins, no I still hate the climbs but I LOVE the things mountainous areas provide a traveller. Stunning views, more intact natural systems and at times genuine remoteness.
This last point in particular fascinates me, as I always thought of Western Europe as somewhere inescapable from civilisation and where 4G reigned supreme. However, a few days ago cycling over the back end of the Alps, I passed a summit at Sassello and for the next few hours was disconnected from the world, only seeing one tractor and no longer able to stream Dua Lipa’s latest music video to draw inspiration from. It was a real sense of adventure and purpose rolled into one and to be honest I was a bit gutted when things flattened out towards Acqui Terme, where I am currently residing in a car park behind a restaurant. Highs and lows I suppose.
In conclusion to the ramblings I’ll reassure readers that I am not a changed man. I still do not like steep hills but I now see the value climbing brings. From stunning scenery to communities barely touched by time. Ahead lies the River Po and a dash from West to the East coast! I hope to trace the river in search of sturgeon before finishing in a week’s time on a beach with a beer near Choggia!
A final note of thanks, not to the mountains but to the core supporters of the expedition; who, without their support none of this would be possible. To the Fishmongers’ Company’s Fisheries Charitable Trust, alpkit and the Jeremy Willson Charitable Trust I am forever indebted to you.
I should finish with some sort of hill pun, but ain’t no river wide enough for that right now.
