I climbed down the tall hillsides where I camped the night before. The village was hidden away, between tall mountains under Baghrat sar, the tallest peak in the Meghri Range. No one lives in the village permanently, they just come to relax or tend to their gardens in the summer. As I walked through the streets, two good ol’ boys drove up and said, “Hey you, come with us.’’ I hopped into their jeep, and we drove up to the mountains to lay traps for badgers. The men had clearly been drinking, I could smell it on their breath, and they came out with vigor and gusto with rusty traps older than they were, and no license, but high hopes for a tasty BBQ later that night. We never caught anything: half the traps were sprung and empty the next morning.
Every villager had a different opinion and a different name for the tallest peak in Meghri. I just knew I had to climb, to go up. The sun was hot, but the elevation led to cool winds and a comfortable equilibrium was reached. Passing through fields of unique Alpine plants, I finally made it to the top of a rock scramble where I could see everything I traversed behind me, and where my adventure was leading me.