For the love of the mountains...

It was heartwarming for me to watch the 8th stage of the Tour de France wind its way all the way up to Avoriaz, in the Morzine valley where I grew up. I could recognize every turn, nook and cranny on the road, guess which vista would show up around the next corner, as if I was still there, even though I haven't lived in that place for about 35 years. These mountains looks as gorgeous as ever and while I would love to be in Haute-Savoie, I couldn't stand leaving the Rockies behind, so here I am in a quandary, hanging between the Alps and the Rocky Mountains and playing yo-yo with the two!

I could just as easily say that “you could take the me out of the Rockies or the Alps, but you could never take the mountains out of me...” and I could never imagine myself ending up in Bora-Bora, Maui or Dubuque, Iowa. I belong to the mountains and the mountains are planted in me like an organ I couldn't live without; so here you have me, “mountain man” almost, but full-time city dweller or beachcomber? Never!