Flycatcher Downs close to my heart

The mountains had risen up before him like a great wall, and he promptly turned tail from them. There was no enjoyment in killing himself by walking one-thousand steps, only to face the downward spiral on the other side. The smart thing was to go around, and that was what he sought to do.

In the shadow of one particularly intimidating mountain, the man attempted to make a path through the deep snow. He was not light enough on his feet to avoid crushing the newest layers, and found that his coat wasn't as thick as he always trusted it to be: it was his swaying belly that got in the way the most. The tarn's crossing was dire, and he made a sternly worded mental note not to return this way again, should the need arise.

Alas, the man was halfway along the downs when he thought to take a break... Huffing and puffing, caked with snow everywhere except his toes, which were lined with cold mud. Utterly wretched, this place. A fool's journey well under way. The only relief came when he saw the sky break, and a clean blue begin to seep beyond the clouds.