I started writing this post a few times, and then got way behind and life moved on and we did more things, and now to write about them all seems overkill. So, I figured I’d just use my pictures.
A couple clarifying points to start. When we say we are going to “el monte” it’s not the same as going to “la montaña.” I haven’t verified this with C, but my interpretation is that el monte means we are going to a mountainous range…more sort of rocky, dirt, grassy, foresty sometimes, with dirt roads (without guardrails and with very steep dropoffs….but I digress) that are good for 4-wheeling and things like that. La montaña really refers to los Picos de Europa, the REAL mountains like we think of as mountains, like, I dunno, the Rockies of Spain. Again, unconfirmed, but since my impression is what matters here, that’s what I’m goin with.
As far as el monte goes, there are parts that you can’t get to unless you have a pass, and this past weekend, one of our friends lent us his car and his pass, so we had to take advantage! K, enough said. Here’s the first part of my last week.
On Friday, we drove up with the kids. Like I said, steep dropoffs and no guardrails. The first hour was a chorus of “CHARLES SLOW DOWN!” and some screaming, and a lot of these faces. 🙂 The second hour was more along the lines of (for one of the three, I should qualify that) “When are we going to be home? Where are we? How much longer?” The last hour was a lot of screaming in a small space.
There are always a ton of animals in the mountains. I realized the other day that what strikes me the most is that I’m used to seeing cows in pastures, and the cows we see are scaling the sides of mountains and hiding in forests. Tons of horses, cows, and this guy who we called “Rastaburro”…I feel for him, my hair does that on humid days too.
We went back the next day without the chillins (me with my big camera that one day I will really and truly learn how to use) and there was a ton of fog settling in. I used to think all cows with horns were bulls, but nope. Just females with horns, like some that I know.
Lots of horses. And lots of fog.
Our lunch spot. There are tons of these cabins, barebones, usually with just a place to build a fire and four walls. Some have a table or something, but basically you can just pop in and sleep there if you are up hiking. Most are unlocked, but there are some that you need to reserve.
This cabin was actually our destination for the evening. A friend (the one whose car we had) had reserved the cabin, but originally told us he and his friends (a group of five who were on horseback in the mountains for a few days) weren’t going to be there Saturday night.
BUT they were. And the horses they rode in on. Literally. Turns out one of them was having problems, plus they had had some bad weather, so they were still there. What. A. Total. Trip. Like movie characters, seriously. I took out my camera and C says to me “…aaaaaaand I’m seeing a blog post….” Uh, yeah. I could write three.
Me in my throne and the boys (we acquired two more who were friends of theirs and staying at a cabin down the hill), and a ton of wine, and a ton of laughs.
When we arrived, we could barely see two feet in front of us, but the fog moved so quickly in and out. We popped outside at one point and it was like cloud fire. So pretty and so cool. I took like a hundred pictures, and even video because it was all moving so fast.
Loved the clouds.
The next morning they saddled up, all but one who was having saddle issues (the guy riding that horse came home with us).
Like in a movie. All geared up and ready to go.
The beer handoff. Tinkle.
And off they rode, into the nothingness…cue Western music and roll credits… 🙂