km 0

Sweat drops slide down my face. My feet are the only thing I´ve been looking at for a while. They are dragging slowly up a steep hill. There are pine trees, oaks, roots and rocks that I grab with force to go up one step and another. I sign and swear because my rucksack is heavy and at the thought of the friend that roped me into climbing up here. A place from where I can only see, in between trees, the silhouetes of vertical cliffs. I stop at a small hill to get my breath back, my hands are leaning on my knees. I look up and I find myself between Primera Buitrera and Risco Matute. I breathe again, look at my feet, throw my rucksack away- here´s me. I´m at Km 0. Everything starts here.

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