I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You, Mt. Pandes

Ok, so I've been holding out. I have a pretty amazing story, and I'm sorry for the delay.

Saturday was a day that will stand out in my mind, and my burning thighs for years to come.

I agreed to go on a cross island hike that lasted for six hours and 20 miles. What was I thinking, right?! It was as ridiculous as it sounds.

We awoke at 9am to gray skies and cloudy minds. Pulling on my sneakers I remember thinking that the impending hike couldn't possibly be that bad, and that an extra long walk around our little island might be even more fun in the rain. I mean, so much for tanning, but my spirits were high.

In preparing for the hike I neglected to think about the landscape of the island. In that it is mountainous.

About 15 minutes in I find myself drenched and battling a breathless climb towards the apex of our first mountain. The wind and the rain gave it an almost cinematic quality. A fellow hiker only added to that.
"At least it can't get any worse than this."
"Carl, this is the point in the movie where you get struck by lightning."
"You know, you're probably right."

It's nice to know that I can manage to sputter those same old sarcasms between deep and desperate intakes of air.

I cannot recall a more physically trying experience. In retrospect I'm quite glad it was raining. I think tears were running down my cheeks at one point, and the weather probably saved me from that one embarrassment.

At the top of the mountain I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. For about five minutes.
Suddenly my thighs were tingling with that too familiar feeling of being forced to move the rest of me upward. There was another incline to overcome, and it was arguably more intense than the last.

Let me paint it for you: When we finally reached the top, we were standing next to the satellite towers. We were literally at the highest point on the island. All I could think of the entire time was, "if I put one foot in front of the other I HAVE to get to the top eventually. That logic kept me somewhat sane.

Reaching that top was completely rewarding, however we then began our descent. It was no where near as exhausting as getting there, but a bit painful after the first hour. Gravity is not much of a friend there.

Walking, exhausted and drenched, into the town of Aliki was again like a moment from a movie. We were led into a small restaurant on the coast. Our guide knew the owners and we soon indulged in a buffet of Greek delicacies.

I wondered how I had just survived that hike. I still wonder.

We took the bus back (which only took about 30 minutes, compared to the six hours it took to get there int he first place), and limped back to our rooms.
I quickly showered off what bits of the mountain I had brought home.
I crawled into bed, and tried my best not to move.
That night, and the following days were some of the most painful. Turning over in my sleep was a chore, and walking any distance required small, excruciating steps.

The pain has faded, but my memory of that hike has not.

I'm probably leaving out some important details, but you'll have to wait and hear them in person.

We leave for Turkey on Saturday.
I'll be sure to tell you all about it.

Sorry to cut this short, but I must run.
Peace for now.
Love.
Ash