Chapter 31
The Falls at Cubservies
Magic is
believing in yourself, if you can do that, you can make anything happen.- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Because our
entire universe is made up of consciousness, we never really experience the
universe directly we just experience our consciousness of the universe, our
perception of it, so right, our only universe is perception. – Alan
Moore
After
the meeting in the conference room, the senior scientists remained to discuss
their next move in light of Marie’s decision, and Marie was free to go about
her day. In order to take her mind off
things, Barry suggested she accompany Brenda, the British grad student and Sid,
the Canadian barter, on their proposed hike up to the waterfall of Cubservies.
No
one, of course, knew exactly where the falls were. They had in their possession a hiking guide
book with maps and directions in French, which Sid assured them he could
read. Barry had told them he thought the
trail started in the valley across an old wooden bridge. They took the house dog, Virgil, also at
Barry’s suggestion. He could use the
walk and he, at least, had been there once or twice before, joining other
barters and students on the hike. That
sounded reasonable, someone would know where they were headed.
The
four headed down the low road out of the village, that twisted and turned,
lined by walls with ferns growing out of them, past houses built atop rock and
wall, past terraced gardens of onions, tired tomato plants, squash, and wild
flowers. Grape vines crawled over
arbors, roses and ivy took over the sides of houses, flower pots bursting with
late season begonias, and a variety of purple and yellow flowers Marie did not
recognize. On the roads chestnuts and
black walnuts were scattered, and here and there were villagers with bags
collected them. Small streams were
diverted through pipes and under roads, the sound of their cascades falling
down the deep hollows below. Virgil
stopped to relieve himself in front of a house just on the outskirts of the
village.
“Virgil
hates that guy, apparently. Every time
he goes by, he stops and leaves his regards, ay,” Sid explained.
Every
turn looked like it would lead right up to someone’s doorstep, but the road
ducked down and twisted away again, descending down towards the floor of the
valley. Eventually, the asphalt emptied
into a grass and gravel road that dropped steeply into the grass of the bottom
of the valley. Small stream ways poured
in the small river. Their path led them
to a small wooden bridge. The path split
in three directions, one across the bridge and one each going along the river
in both directions.
“Barry
said, we take the way across the bridge and up the mountain,” Marie reminded
them, as Sid had his face buried in the guide book.
“I’m
not sure,” he said, shaking his head. “I
think this is saying we go right here.”
“You
guys,” chirped Brenda, “Look”
She
was pointing back up the mountain which they had just descended. There was Labastide Esparbairenque, high
above. It was a beautiful vista of the
medieval town perched on the steep slope of the mountain.
“I’ve
got to take a picture of the village from this angle, it’s amazing,” she said.
“Yeah,
it looks bigger somehow from down here.” Marie observed.
Sid
glanced up idly and quickly pulled his attention back to the French walking
guide book of the Montagne Noire. Marie
noticed this.
“I
think we should take the path Barry suggested,” she suggested again.
“Oh,
you’re just saying that because you like him,” Sid countered. “Everybody knows it.”
“What
do you mean?”
Brenda
put her camera away. “Oh, come off it.
You know you do. You’re both
crazy on each other, it’s obvious to everyone in the house, but you two. Oooh, look, there’s the chateau.”
“It
is?” Marie said meekly.
“Don’t
worry,” Brenda said reassuringly, “Barry will make his move soon, you can just
watch him gearing up for it.”
“He
will?”
They
crossed the bridge, at her continued urging.
The path looked positively Tolkienesque, winding up the mountain through
deep forest, moss covered walls. Virgil
kept a bout hundred yards or so ahead of them, stopping to make sure the humans
were following him. They passed a
clearing and some level pathway with abandoned terrace gardens and a lovely
view of the valley and village below.
They were higher than Labastide already apparently. Once past, the thin trail lined with brush
twisted to go back up the mountain once again.
The path turned to gravel road, and they were surprised by the sight of
two cars parked in the high woods.
“We
must be close to the road,” Sid said.
And
after another thirty yards they were standing there at a junction of
asphalt. Yellow X’s indicated the ways
not to go, but now trail blazes indicated the correct direction.
“Process
of elimination?” Brenda suggested meekly.
“What’s
the book say,” Marie asked of Sid.
“That
we should have gone right before the bridge.” He answered smugly.
“Process
of elimination, it is then.” Marie took
the lead and made the hard right up the mountain road. She whistled for Virgil who came running from
the other direction and charged ahead of the three once again. It wasn’t long before they saw a blaze on a
stone wall, and Marie felt reassured.
Now
the road rose slowly, twisting as mountain roads tend to do, up towards the
crest. They had only gone right a
little, when the road turned hard left.
“Hey,
let’s ask this guy,” Brenda suggested.
Riding
a bicycle and moving in their direction was a dark haired man, dressed only in
shorts and sneakers, his toned body glistening in the sunlight.
Sid
waved the fellow down and spoke to him briefly in French. Marie understood nothing either man
said. In a few seconds the man had
resumed his cycling on up the road before them.
“Yeah,
he says were on the right road … though ... he claims it’s another six or seven
kilometers. The dude’s not even French,
he’s Spanish but lives in Carcassonne.
He’s out collecting chestnuts and mushrooms”
So,
they trudged on with renewed hope, moving ever higher up the mountain. They hiked past a small hamlet of half a
dozen or so homes that declared itself to be St. Julian. It made Labastide Esparbairenque look like a
metropolis in comparison. Sid loved the
old houses there though, and wanted to buy one, but, as he was poor he would
have to win the lottery first. Near the crest they heard a chainsaw; soon after
they encountered its owner. A woman who
was clearing land near the mountain’s top for a garden, as she had apparently
done just a few yards away. A few small
fires burned the unwanted branches and tree remains.
Sid
asked the woman if they were still going in the right direction.
“Cubservies
Cascades, oui. Bravo. Quatre Kilometers. Bravo.” The woman replied.
“Yep”
Sid said looking at his now weary companions, “We’re still going the right
way.”
Marie
did not know how much further they gone, but it felt like quite another
distance before they saw a hunter, decked in a bright safety orange vest,
holding a rifle. She called Virgil back
and held him. Sid approached the man and
talked to him for a few moments before he returned to his companions.
“Yeah,
we’re still going the right way. He says
the hunts still pretty far away, and we should be fine. They’re hunting
boar. I forgot it was Wednesday. Anyways, he says just another kilometer or
two.”
They
were exhausted but in cheerful spirits when they made the final twist in the
road before the hamlet of Cubservies. As
they approached the roar of the falls reached their ears, bringing smiles to
their faces.
The
falls were spectacular. Marie estimated
a sheer drop of 300-500 feet, over vertical rock. It wasn’t a massive amount of water, like
Niagra Falls, but it was quite breathtaking.
“We
did it!” Marie crowed with some pride.
copyright 2017 Diana Hignutt
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