Doggedness' Reward

September 13, 2014

     One of the beauties of the Minervois is the ease with which it is possible to be on a well-laid hiking path, taking in the gorgeous landscape, in no time at all.  In proof, Beau and I did a three and a half hour hike today, starting at 10:00 a.m. walking almost the entire distance.

     My goal was to complete the hike to La Boriette, a local peak, from the path starting by the picnic grounds by the chapel of Notre Dame du Cros.  I had done much of the hike earlier, but not all, thanks to a friend reluctant to continue the day we hiked together.  So near, and yet so far, I found out this time, as the overlook that is the culmination of the hike was only a few minutes away from where we stopped.

     We met a middle-aged couple hiking back a few yards from the overlook.  They stopped to talk largely because they thought Beau was a Münsterländer, like their dog.  This is not the first time Beau has been mistakenly compared to this German breed (although I can't see why, as Beau is monochromatic and the Münsterländers are brown and white, or black and white). Notwithstanding, the couple was friendly and I was glad to listen to them tell me that I ought to hike to the overlook, then take the path across Le Plâteau de la Matte where there is another great overlook.  "It's clearly marked",  he said.  "You can't get lost, you'll return back to the start at Notre Dame du Cros."

     Wanting to see more, I turned us towards the plâteau.  Indeed, it was a different landscape: where we had been ascending, and with each step gaining a wider perspective on the lands below, starting from the height of La Boriette, Beau and I turned onto a broad forest road --which never seemed to end.

     The return route my new friends had told me I'd find never materialized.  We passed roads the trees next to which were marked "Reserve Du Chasse"  ("Hunting Preserve").  That was an indication we had stumbled onto private property, which made me a bit nervous.  It is hunting season, and although hunters generally start out very early in the morning, in season, there is nothing to prevent them from hunting when they will.  Not to mention the hunter's prey: wild boars.  Although the roads were broad enough that four-wheel drive vehicles could easily pass, that sign of civilization gave me little comfort.  Beau and I were clearly in the middle of nowhere, and there wasn't a helpful sign to be seen.

     Coming to a fork in the road, one of which rose, the other of which descended, I opted for the latter. Descent meant civilization: no matter how far from Caunes we were when we would reach flat land, I could at least call a taxi if I had to.  So I took the road that descended; but this road, too, wound a ways, then forked again: I took the path that seemed to turn back in the direction from which we had come.  In the distance, I could see the abandoned marble quarry just a few yards from the overlook at La Boriette.  I was navigating by my nose, but in about twenty minutes, we were back at the overlook of La Boriette.

     I saw a sign pointing towards Notre Dame du Cros and we headed in that direction.  It was already the hottest part of the day and I was fondly thinking of the return home via the road to the chapel, which I have walked so many times.  However, somewhere I took a wrong turn and ended up descending a road that left me at the outskirts of Trausse, a little less than 4 kilometers away.

     If I'd had to walk them, I would have, but my thumb got the better of me: Beau and I hitched a ride back.  Three cars passed us without stopping, but the fourth, a very white large panel truck with a sign, "Henri Ben-Orchestre de Danse", stopped.

     "What about the dog?" were Henri's first words to me

     "He can sit on my lap--"

     "I'm only kidding --he can sit where he likes.  I'm the President of the "Friends of Animals".  It's not a problem."

     So Henri Ben --who plays the accordion, the trumpet, the piano, who leads a ballroom dance band, as well as a bal musette orchestra-- took Beau and me back to Caunes.

     "What a good dog!" Henri asked, after I told him how Beau had never flagged on our trek.  He caressed Beau happily, Beau relishing the attention.

       "Is he a Münsterländer?"