Four to five thousand vertical feet of limestone mountains, steep, often vertical, and shedding landslides. And a futile attempt to keep the rocks from washing out a pointless gravel road to nowhere, or from traveling downstream where the the rocks will inevitably go. Our route (a road) was washed out for a few hundred meters by an enormous pile of gravel that came down the mountain and wiped out a bridge. The stream was calf deep and easy to wade. But the crews were trying to get the gravel and boulders (some the size of buses) to behave according to their plans. There were two crews with heavy equipment doing God knows what. And a third crew mixing individual bags of concrete mix to fill the gaps between pitifully tiny blocks of stone that they hoped would direct the stream.
It was calf deep when we were there, but obviously is a roaring torrent when conditions are right, losing 600' in about a mile, a huge gash of raw rock and boulders. And they are doing their best to contain and direct it.
John McPhee would appreciate the effort.
Good weather, good walking, and a five star campsite with water, benches, level grass, and a view to beat the band.
Camping here. 46.55272, 12.61136
We're happy and healthy and hoping for another good day tomorrow.
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