As we write, we are sitting outside of a remote refuge in a subalpine meadow. The three cows that provide milk for le fromage blanc to the refuge stand not twenty feet away. They bellow as the other people sitting at tables nearby cheer on ultra marathon runners wearily trekking up the slope to us. "Allez! Allez! Allez!" Evan throws in a "bonjour" when someone looks like they need some extra support. It's 2:45 pm and we have literally nothing to do besides enjoy the fresh breeze, sip our limonade, and soak in the stunning view of the melting glacier in the high valley in front of us.

It's day two on the TMB and we're still coming to terms that we're really, actually doing this. Yesterday was our first night in a refuge (du Foix) that we'll remember for its lovely rustic homemade meals, awkward conversations in broken English and French with the few travelers that we slept and dined with, and a close game of Backgammon on a clover lawn. We slept poorly in a hot room, but still enjoyed an early breakfast with a view and a good start in cooler morning weather.

Some alternative trails, backtracking, and a sweaty climb of 2782 ft got us to the Refuge du Truc. We gratefully dropped our packs and finished the walk up Mont Truc, which should really be called Hill Truc and I'm not even sorry about it. The gorgeous meadow was worth all of the salt we shed today. It inspired us to both express how much we've missed terrain like this from Colorado and California after so long in foresty Washington. I anticipate a serene evening where Evan attempts to even the Backgammon score and I cannot wait to see the sunset and sunrise over these mountains. Then it's "Allez!" for us.