Start: Rifugio Cuney/Finish: Oyace , 14.6, +488, -1771
There is something about Rifugio Cuney that enhances the feeling of remoteness, although the valley road is visible down below.
The sun is rising on a magnificnet view, with the mountain ranges of the southern valley visible with a crown of clouds on top.
Today is one of those days full of descents. From the hut the path is even for a while, quickly starting the climb towards Col de Chaleby (2683m). I'm ok with the ascent, but the descent is steep and I feel very unstable. Looking around me, I take an executive decision, and make the descent on my ass. Not very elegant, but it's seems to be the only valid option for me. While ascents are hard physically, descents are the kiss of death for me. Taking those first steps below each col, and my over-active brain is already watching my body slip and fall down the mountain, never to be found again.
As I slip and slid down, small rocks being a literal pain in my ass, I quietly sing a song of thanks. I have several of those, all of which being variations on famous songs, with the words amounting to nothing more than "thank god it's not raining". What a sight I make - hiking boots, tights, bright blue backpack, sweaty, on my ass, muttering a not-really-a-song under my breath.
Once the rocky, steep, gravely part ends I'm back on my feet, walking through the meadows up to Col Vessona. Suddenly a furry nose appears from under the rock, mare centimeters from where my foot is. Having sensed my presence, the nose and its owner disappear back into the burrow. I continue on to give the give what is clearly a marmot a sense of safety, and just as I give up, it sneaks out, it's gloriously furry tail glistening in the sun. I take a childish delight in seeing these creatures, and they make me smile every time.
On the other side of the col it's the same story all over again - its steep and dusty and feels very unstable. So yet again, i'm on my ass. Thank good there are no other people around.
Down through the meadow and into the forest, it's a long way down to my destination: the village of Oyace and it's bus stop. I've decided that I after 10 days of hiking, I need a break, even at the price of skipping a section. Nothing aches, but my body is simply tired.
What I did not take into account is the fact that today is Friday, and it's the first weekend of the Italian vacation season. it appears there are no available beds in the entire valley. Having snagged what feels like the last available hotel room in Pila, high above Aosta, I need to divert away from the trail. Hence the bus.
Having reached the bus stop almost an hour early, I'm delighted to find that the bus stop is an actual structure, providing protection from the still scorching sun. There's almost no one around, other than an old woman sitting on her balcony watching me. The bus makes its way up into the valley on the opposite side of the road, and having completed its journey at the end of the valley, turns around and picks me up. Moving through narrow rural roads, it reaches The town of Valpelline and its Fontina factory, eventually reaching the main valley with its wide roads and traffic lights. I'm back in civilisation.
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