The next morning I hiked to the peek of Mont Ernest-Menard, the first mountain peek of the Grande Traversee. I am on a photo sketching, pleasure tour.
And now, four days later, Mary has risen and we must prepare to travel on from this place to another place farther down the road. My timeline is disjointed. I can't catch up with the present. I am like a painter en plein air astounded by the moving clouds and the changing light which seem to happen in the future while I struggle with the present, the ever present paint.
We have been without cell reception or an internet connection for eight days.