(Altitude Sickness) Symphony

Below, as you will probably figure out, is the typed- up version of what I wrote during the trip, which was to see the Matterhorn in a town called Zermatt.

It feels slightly weird to use this paper... different design and size. That mountain looks sort of like an oreo. Crumbling black with white spread over various areas. I am hungry. I sit next to my grandma, with the revealing window on my left. The train ride is smooth, powerfully lumbering on the tracks.

I also have this sleep-deprived feeling about me. It's not actually all that pleasant. I had stayed up till 2 am talking to Becca and Karina on the phone. I was actually half-asleep at one point. But it was great fun.

So, for those unfamiliar with what is up, my dad, grandma and I are taking a day-trip in the German part of Switzerland. We just had a 2-hour car ride, after I had had the leftover-ness of pumpkin pie for my 8 am breakfast. I slept a bit sort of, but mostly listened to Red Hat (my new nickname for Red Hot Chili Peppers).

Wow. The view is just... wow. To my right, a huge towering lump of grey, dead trees, dirty snow and dotted mountain shacks. Sometimes I can't see the top. To my left, giant bumps with the same features but also deep, deep drops off the side. Seemingly steady rock holding up tall evergreens that would be accused of commiting suicide if people.

The drumroll over, the audience gets a chance to review. Competing 7/8 tempo, forte, but normally played down to mezzo forte when looking ahead or when the German/French/English lady comes on. Ah, and now a few measures of rests as the train pauses in its trip of magnitude. Building up now, a crescendo; frozen water attempting to end (and yet begin again) clings majestically to the mountain; the flutes. But then a look to the left and one notices the living silver- a thawed waterfall crashing under gravity. But whats this? The thrill is temporarily stifled as the train curves around the mountain, which shields our immediate brains from the giant white, which once controlled our conscience of the sky- a wimpering decrescendo. French horns build up- rocks on the left, so grey and so capturing. Clarinets give us a hint or the epic to become. It curves... still going up, still climbing the impossible evidence of winter. Rest two three four... we temporarily stop. Tall brown decorated with green on the sides- the trees; you can hear the trombones. And past the trees, the sun crashing on the blue like a cymbol.

The white is much thrill, the windows like a trap door. You can just smell the inspiration. Its as if it presses down on your clothes. ... It rests, displaying wonderful appearance, and offering its forever sighs.

11:22 Tic-tac? A little German kid seems to be offering me one.

The train ride continued, later in which I listened to Jupiter, we passed a hubcap in the snow, saw the amazing yellow shining on the white snow, saw the glittering ice under the bridges and passed a huge flowing glacier to one side.

It's 12:21 and not very easy to write. We were lucky to get a seat. This is the second train, going up really really high- about 10,000 feet. We'll have lunch and stuff. I hope I don't get altitude sickness- I've been rather dehydated (and sleep-deprived, not to mention) lately. This train is full of guys (and girls) with holding ski poles, bulky, awkward ski boots and skis in their arms. I've heard German, English (mostly American accents) and maybe a little French. The town we're leaving was sort of cool- a great peek at the Matterhorn, and you could walk in the tiny streets which had little rectangles with wheels driving around a few feet away from you. It smelled like hamburgers. There were also some horses and lots of ski stuff.

This ride should be shorter, but it'd looked rather twisty on the map. Oh wow, the PA system thing is even in Italian and something like Japanese over here.

I'll tell you guys how it goes later. My dad just said we were going to double our altitude. What joy.

Well actually I guess I'll (try to) write. The rocks covered with snow, which is all you can see, are like burned potatoes topped with huge clumps of cottage cheese. Trees standing tall, ears starting to pop. Going over some gorge ("Hopefully there's a bridge beneath the train," - my dad). We could've brought a sled, but I guess didn't think to. My dad just glanced at this (ugh) and said, "you sure have a lot to say," He has a lot to say. If there's one thing I hate, it's people looking at me writing. Well, more, looking at the writing. Whatever. Hands getting a little sore; I have that one Red Hat song stuck in my head that starts off with ".. Arthur J. did..."; it's good. Darkness- passing through a tunnel. The glowing icicles look like wax; nature in a pause. Or a large clearish booger smeared here and there on the windshield of majesticness.

And now- the view opens up, and the sun crashes down on the range to the left. Tipping peaks, concealing Italy behind its white and brown disturbance. Of course its there- but that doesn't mean your breath will always be when you look at it.

We've passed the skiing areas- just free open space to let ski meet snow. Smooth white, like pillows on a rough bed. So open it's like a void- except there is. I just feel like runing out and.. flying? Maximum Ride again. But I've got a pen and paper, so that works.

3:27 Sitting on the train back... it'll leave in about 5 minutes. It was a very very awesome trip. Still technically not over. I didn't get altitude sickness luckily, and couldn't even really tell the difference. My ears did pop, to my partial displeasure. We got in, took several many photos, had lunch and took in the view again. We also looked at the extravegant and almost -neverending collection of watches. There were swatches too. Train just started. I took at least a hundred photos. The mountains are now pretty much all covered in clouds- people are still skiing though. Sun is out on the other side.

Lunch was good, if not salty and slightly bland. I got a sausage with onion sauce and french fries. It was good. Not many places to sit and at first we had to relocate. Lots of German-ness. We even looked at a German newspaper- my dad figured out part of a 2-line sub-heading of the sports section. I know practically no German. This one German guy sitting near us at lunch laughed at his newspaper. I just found that somewhat funny.

Ears popping again. It was actually getting quite cold- my hands were almost numb at times. I wasn't really out of breath much but my heart beat somewhat rapidly after a while. The view was terrific, full of cliffs, warped glaciers, mountains throughout an impressive 360 degree panorama and of course the many many skiers.

Yeah. It's pretty cool.

Watching the skiers its almost as if the people are just floating on the calm white- hard to see the skis. My father and grandma like to "make fun" of my "addiction" to my writing, as they are now. Sigh.

Oh yeah I also slipped on some ice. That was pretty cool. I saw the ice patch, and ran down the trail. My dad was there but it still sort of hurt. But I'm ok. We had a laugh about it. It's like, all of a sudden, you're neither standing up nor on the ground- and after it you can hardly remember either- you can feel your solid, dark boots hit the nearly clear yet rolling surface and then you're down and there's pain. Weird how your brain just takes certain pictures like that.

So this was pretty much the highest I had been I think. Yeah. Cool. Now for another train ride, car ride and maybe dinner until I get "home".

---------------------------------

It was dark. I got to sit in the front seat on the way home. I was actually rather tired. We looked around the town a little bit after the first train ride, and I gottt a swatchhhhhh. Birthday. So that was awesome.

The car ride was actually rather epic. I had brought around 7 CD's, counting the 2 double albums. I have come to the conclusion that the best album to listen to on night car trips is probably A Rush of Blood to the Head (Coldplay). Great stuff.

I thought a lot. I came to a few conclusions, some of which I could (should) mention sometime I guess. But of course, most of my thinking goes under this slightly annoying process, in which something might seem so awesome or amazing or new or interesting or logical, but then after thinking about it, it doesn't seem like such great stuff. Not necessarily stupid, but just less I guess. Sigh. But anyway.

Birthday is soon. End of 2008?!?!??! Dude. Holy crap. Half way done?!?!?!?! Dude. Holy crap. Life is good?!?!??!?! Dude. Holy crap. Haven't started doing algebra?!?!?! Dude. Holy crap. Everything will go okay?!??!! Dude. Holy crap.


This is a cool blog.