Where In The World Is The Rash Family?: The Adriatic

The run turned out to be a climb at spots

I was prepared to embrace the beauty of the sunrise this morning with camera in hand. It was light enough that I felt I could take the woodsy trail behind the property for a quick run before the clan woke up. Having been warned about the wild boars and the herding dogs that would attack if I was too close to the sheep I took off.

The trees enclosed around me and I decided a quick run would be better as the sound of the barking dog grew louder. I so wanted a great picture of the sheep but not at the expense of a chewed up leg. I was coming closer to the gate that led to the pasture and I hoped the barking dog wasn’t for me. I peeked around the corner and the sheep were about 300 yards away and it was just a neighborhood dog throwing a fit so I stopped to gaze at the unfamiliar site of sheep grazing in the meadow and the bright white herding dogs roaming amongst them.

The path was quite overgrown so ducking, jumping and dodging the hooks of the raspberries kept my mind occupied. I came to an open field and debated turning around. David had told me that there are no trespassing laws in Italy so I continued. After crossing a field and cutting through what seemed to be a grove of walnut trees I inhaled the view back to our house. I felt accomplished when I looked back to see how far I had come.

The white dot at the top is our house

The run back was just as quick for I had a fear in my heart but I didn’t know where it was coming form. I was so out of breath I decided to walk. I walked quicker as I heard barking dogs but I couldn’t run one more step. Besides, the rest of the trail was all uphill with large rocks. I came to a break in the thick tree line and glanced to see the neighborhood dog…..but it was the large white dog that protected the sheep on the hill and I had been spotted. My legs sped me up the uneven path like a motor cross dirt bike on its final lap. The phrase, “They will attack,” gonged in my head over and over. I refused to turn around for fear I would slow down or worse yet fall. The raspberry thorns I had so carefully avoided earlier were now the least of my worries as they took turns grabbing onto my legs and then ripping free with every stride. I watched the rocks pass quickly under my feet and I knew I could grab a good handful if I needed to. But that wouldn’t be necessary, I had made it. I hunched over, grabbed my knees and tried to catch my breath. There was nothing behind me; maybe there never was but at least I knew that my body could still find a bit of youth within it to save itself when I thought it had nothing left.

We took the 30 minute drive to Pedosa and found ourselves on the beach gazing across the Adriatic Sea. The temp was 82 and we shared the beach with only a few others. The girls and Raleigh waded in the water and perfected their rock skipping skills.

So many rocks to throw and such little time

There is something about ocean water mixed with a slight breeze that can lift worries and carry them off to a faraway land. The beach lunch we packed was good but not nearly as tasty as Naomi’s boat lunches. Summer sausage and twizzlers were missed.