Friends, shadow of beauty, wonderland and the shrike thorn tree (2)
Gooood morning Mont Blannnnc !
(This is the sequel of UTMB 2008 Tour of Mont Blanc)
Chapter Miss Delirium and Wonderland
Where did the meeting start ? Nearby the « col de la Seigne » after a cloudless night, or after the pit stop of « La Fouly » when all cats are grey in the dark? Back from the Delirium realm, I can see and talk as one again. No more need of an inner democratic parliament expressing several parallel ways of thinking.
Like a fragile ship gliding on a calm and flat lake under a perfect blue sky, I can easily manage to dive in and out from the liquid/air interface of my perception. The sky embodies my openess to the outside world, useful to inspire my pictures shooting obsession and my quest for mindblowing landscapes. Underwater universe should embody my focussing on the inner world (i.e. body feedback, sensations..)
Man usually says: the first night is physical, the second is ... metaphysical. Around La Fouly pit stop (sounds like « crazy » in french), it began...But I will notice it way after...
Finished, extinguished, done my source of beauty, now comes the night. Under my headlamp beam, colors are fading away. I am not alone though in my ship, two pals Stephen and Vince would be eventually my anchors to the outside world. Phew, the duality seems to be safe! Alas, Miss Delirium has a more complex point of view than my stereotyped black and white motto. If the lady was a dance, it would be definitely a waltz or maybe a whirling derviche for its pleasant vertigo.
In Vince’s footstep, I am getting bored…the new path through the forest to the Fouly is wearing my patience thin. We are buzzing around without seeing any human soul or even civilizatioin traces. Even our chit chats seem to turn round and are slowly loosing its interest. My focus is distracted by the reflecting shoes stripes of Vince. These one draw complex luminous arabesques, my eyes, literally, could not focus anymore. I am just mesmerized by this improvised ballet.
I would like so much closing my eyes, going back to this calm lake, flat and orderly. Though, I would hate to let go my two companions, my reality anchors.
Consequently, I maintain a minimum conscientiousness load in order to ease the processing data for an already worn out brain. Alas, the balance management center is the first to join the waltz. Despite the poles help, I notice my inablity to walk straight in the singletrack without constantly sticking my pole. I am clumsy on my left side, strangely my pals have the same syndrom (hard times to keep their balance on the left again, maybe turning counterclock around the Mont Blanc?).
At this precise moment, I pray that something’s happening to shake me out from this torpor, this no brain’s land. The pit stop, people and sounds constitute fabulous islands that wake my lethargic senses up. Unfortunately, except the climb of Bovines with its diversified and playful path, I am fading away while I stagger like a drunk.
Would it be the waltz of the lady Delirium that troubles the neat and polished lake of my conscientiousness? Her waves move my skiff. I am starting to mix the inside and outside, insidiously, without notice it.
Before Trient, not long after the Forclaz Pass, I have to thanks the locals for their efforts to decorate the stones nearby our path. Even if the painted rocks seem to be drawn by children (flowers, bike, people described in a rupestrian way), I really appreciate it. During the descent, I was showering the haut-savoyard local tourist intelligence with my praise. It was so refreshing, this blow me away, everthing is so nice…
Besides, I totally forgot to share my feelings with my anchors, so marveled by the view. In return, I have a slight criticism for the stunning amount of painted rocks. What a tremendous work! I hope the teacher was not too adamant and did not impose too much workload on the chidren class. Therefore, I am no more asleep, on the contrary I feel invigorate, again anything seems so pleasant…
Hmm? An obstacle in the middle of the single track, this not a stone like I guess at first glance, but a (Christ Child's) crib with its yellow personnage and red animal statuettes. The crib is so detailed, made with an almost insane thouroughness. And I saw only a glimpse of it during a fraction of a second….
Hello Miss Delirium! You should have spared me this last view, I would have loved to spend a little more time in wonderland. Trying to make me believe a colorful crib the night…Tssss tsss!
From now on, the hallucinations (ooooh, yeah, I get it..) …resume with renewed energy. Following this, I make a great deal of effort to focus on the fruits of my imagination. Like in a special effect movie, the dreamlike objects morph into its real nature. It is really extraordinary to be enabled to see through my imagination’s eyes. I will see these hallucinations even in broad daylight, and I was ok with that (unless these visions were not too close to reality, though this is another debate…)
As far as these hallucinations are concerned, the weirdest thing was this mix of reality and dream that even pervades in the thought process (in addition to the seeing process). In my after race discussion, I have this disturbing split personnality (marveled child vs controlled adult). Some of you, present that day, witnessed this weird thing happening to me.
Finally, I do not know if it was intelligible to speak with two voices, nevertheless retrospectively I had the rare feeling I had a wild creativity.
Ah ! This second night around the Mont Blanc…Miss Delirium another waltz?
Akuna
), il est quand même ravi malgré les galère
d'orientation. Je vous le dis c'est pas facile de trouver le chemin dans ces calanques mais certains d'entre eux comme Christophe Iliou en ont profité 
04 | L’Olympienne et la Nove Colli La Grèce et l’Italie dans le même
package.