Glen Coe again. This time without scars, but great pictures!

It could have been a scene from Ata Whenua, one of my favourite movies ever. Standing on top of a ridge in Glen Coe, between Stob Coire Raineach and Stob Dubh, which both form Buachaille Etive Beag, the sister or the better known Buachaille Etive Mor, I looked into a massive, green valley, with an helicopter just passing by down in the valley, some deer making their way up the other side and big birds above me, likely to be eagles or crows. Thick clouds moving in and out below me made it even more magic, and much worthwhile the rather strenuous hike and scramble up there, with my big pack not making it any easier. But in magic moments there are no heavy packs, no long days, no unstable ground that makes each step a bit of a gamble, no sweat that is dripping down your eyebrows, no midge bites. And that surely was a magic moment, in which I only felt the sudden satisfaction and joy once I had made it up there. It's the sheer joy of being out in the elements, experiencing an magnificent landscape that takes your breath away every moment you look at it, no matter how often you been up there before already. Glen Coe is one of those places that are unique in the world, and I can't stop myself going back there again and again.

A new beginning

So well, long time no posts. It might appear to the reader, that there have been loads of things going on in my life, which is clearly the fact. So no time to write them all down! Still not. Ever since I wrote the last entry, I found myself on some rather serious bike trips, left my job, did cycle more and then often. Went back to Europe and got a new job, did more cycling, and some reading.