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When there are no streets

returning from Alpentag.
after spending the day rolling brush down a mountain… imagine us on a very steep, grass covered alp, throwing Alder branches and pushing precariously balancing piles with our feet to send them sliding down.
all for the community, for the farmers who spend their summers milking the cows and goats (and our two donkeys) that are sent to the alp and making cheese. there aren’t enough goats anymore and so the alder are taking over and with out the human capital of 150 teenagers, the farmers wouldn’t be able to keep the alp clear.

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