High Altitude in the High Atlas Mountains

In a very puerile manner personal satisfaction washed over me as it only took a couple of minutes to adjust my breathing when running in the altitude of Morocco’s High Atlas Mountains. However, the winding roads, sans sidewalks, offered no cause for celebration. I scurried through a small village in the blink of an eye. Unlike its not so distant neighbor of Marrakech, mornings in Ourigane were calm and near silent.

Hemmed in by towering mountains, some snow capped, I enjoyed the surrounding beauty and mindfully took in as much as possible. Seeing a beautiful orange groove, I turned off the narrow road only to quickly learn I had ventured on to private property. Working double time I returned to the street. Few vehicles passed, but the ones that did blazed by at high speeds. Around another mile or so I tried my luck again and veered into an evergreen tree grove.

My luck paid out, Las Vegas style. The trees were fragrant and striking. The path provided some safety from the cars barreling along the tiny road, which I’m sure seldom has joggers at the first light of day. Down a ways a nice stream provided a natural border between the trees and a farm. The property held a small Berber house. I mused at how people accessed the home as no road, paved or otherwise, led to it. I let that thought linger as I turned back toward the hotel to prepare for a day of hiking and local expedition.

Tread new trails without trespassing.

Tom