“A sign!” I sang out loud in a melodic mix of relief and excitement. I wasn’t really, truly lost. Every now and then I could see the tree-cleared ski run on the mountain next to me.  I could hear a river. I had drawn a mental map and I was still kind of moving in, what I thought, was the right direction. I could always back-track too. Still, I felt so elated I hugged the wooden post. Thinking you’re on the right track is a whole different experience than knowing you’re on the

In the first week I eagerly tackled the big local mountains of Rocacorba and Del Mont. I had cruised through the ever-rolling Parc Natural de la Zona Volcànica de la Garrotxa. I was loving my new hilly terrain complete with dozens of new roads that seemed to keep me climbing forever. My surroundings! Then came what is now known as the “‘4km’ climb.” A few kilometres from the house and I knew the following day needed to be a rest day. My legs were tired but, after having a few

Standing in the shadow of Ventoux. As we warmed up on the Col du Madeline, the shadowy outline of Mont Ventoux looked somewhat terrifying. I’d climbed a few mountains before but the last time I ventured onto a mountain this big I was skiing. It was daunting. And that was exciting. It was my first big test after returning from my hamstring injury and I wanted to smash it. During the two hour drive to the climb, I was getting more and more excited. I spent the majority of the t