The Great Outdoors. A vignette.

We were two friends standing atop one the great German Swabian mountains, facing the castle ruins. It was a late autumn; the air was crisp and cold and we had just left a festival with beers in hand and a camera to seize the unbounded landscape before us.

We came across an opening in the forest and followed a short trail flanked by pine trees. It was in the early hours of the morning and pitch dark.

As we continued down the trail the trees grew thicker and the ground less even; I stumbled once and suddenly found myself hurtling down the mountainside. My friend followed suit. In a burst we had both fell 50 meters down the slope - only just falling short of the steep rock face.

It would be hours until sunrise and no one knew of our fate…