Day 114: Setting Off Again From Hospitalet près l’Andorre
After saying goodbye to my parents, Alex and I head to the meeting point for our lift back to Hospitalet près l’Andorre. The forecast is more or less decent today, but thankfully conditions should improve as the week goes on.
Once we arrive, we stop at the delicious bakery where Hugo, Simon, my dad and I had breakfast. The pizzas are still just as good, and it is with very full stomachs, a bit too full to be honest, that we start the trail together.
Since we are starting in the afternoon and our backpacks are loaded with the equivalent of six days of food, we only plan 13 kilometres, which will take us to Refuge de Juclar, a staffed refuge in Andorra. The afternoon begins in fog, but soon we get little clearings that reveal a wild, magnificent landscape. After two months in England, far from nature, Alex is quickly delighted by the trail.
For one of the first times on this trail, I am ahead of Alex “The Rocket” on the climbs. I will enjoy it, because in a few days, once he has readapted, it will very probably be me lagging behind. After a sustained effort, we cross the Col de l’Albe and start the descent toward the refuge. Alex, who has just bought a new camera, stops every few metres to take photos. I keep going without waiting for him. I am a real snail on descents and it only takes him moments to catch up.
As we approach the refuge, the weather improves and we can admire the Étangs de Juclar.
At the staffed refuge, there are only three other hikers. We are starting to be off season, late September. The owner kindly lets us use the winter section of the refuge for free, which saves us from pitching the tent in the mist. With temperatures around two degrees and strong winds picking up, sleeping outside would have been risky anyway. In the evening, we eat as much as possible to try to reduce the weight of our packs. I am perfectly fine with extra chocolate rations. Surprisingly, for the first time in weeks, my tendons feel pretty good. They were probably overdue for a proper rest.
Day 115: The Pyrenees Are Not Easy
The next morning, we set off early, after a small breakfast and a good coffee. Pretty quickly, after a steady climb, we reach Cabane de Sorda, right beside Estany de Sorda. We meet a couple travelling with their horses, and they tell us that three HexaTrekkers slept at the refuge last night. A Belgian, an Australian and a Frenchman. I have no idea who they are, but I hope we are fast enough to catch them. It is always a pleasure to meet new trail mates.
Even with one fewer day of food, the weight of our backpacks is still ridiculous. We feel it very clearly on the endless climb to Col de Meners, which seems never ending. When I feel my legs giving out, I use a motivation trick that works quite well. I allow myself a break every 100 steps, which makes me focus more on the counting than the pain. Step by step, we reach the pass, then comes a good descent toward the tiny village of El Serrat. We feel like we are making little progress. Since entering the Pyrenees, progress is very slow because of the big elevation changes and the more technical trail. While in Stages 1 and 4 we could keep a pace around 4 km per hour, in Stage 5 it is more like 3, even 2 km per hour.
At this point, we are completely exhausted, but since El Serrat does not offer many options for our small hiker budget, we want to add another three kilometres to reach the small unstaffed shelter of Cabane d’Arcalis. We really cannot be bothered with those last three kilometres on the road. We try hitchhiking, a little cheat, but no luck, very few cars pass through.
Resigned, we set off again around 7.30 pm at the pace of a tired snail, which is very, very slow. After one kilometre, I feel a crack in my right ankle and Achilles tendon. My first thought is that it has snapped. I quickly correct myself, there is no pain. Still, that sound really stressed me out. My body is sending me a signal that it is time to rest, that I have endured enough pain for one day. We look around and I notice a car parked a few metres away. I speak to the driver, but he has to leave in the opposite direction. Then, surprise. When I explain the situation, he is incredibly generous and decides to do a round trip to drop us at the hut. As we chat, and I mention I am from Montreal, he laughs warmly, because his daughter left today to go study there. Ten minutes later, he drops us off, wishing us good luck.
Once at the hut, no way are we sleeping inside, it is infested with mice. We pitch the tent a few metres away instead. The sun sets quickly, and exhausted by the day, we do not take long to go to sleep, with Mont Calme in our sights for tomorrow. It would be our first 3000 plus summit on this HexaTrek.
Day 116: A Chaotic Mont Calme Day
The next morning, we leave early. After just an hour, we stop at the restaurant of Borda de Coma, because a cappuccino stop is non negotiable.
Then we continue toward the first pass of the day, Port aux Rats. I really hope that name has nothing to do with the place. The climb is short but very steep, with 200 metres of elevation gain in only 500 metres of distance. Halfway up, a hiker catches us. With the gear he is carrying, I cannot help asking if he is doing the HexaTrek too. Yes. His name is Mathieu and he has walked almost all the stages, except part of Stage 1 and Stage 4. Once he reaches Hendaye, the end of the trail, he will come back to do the sections he did not have time for. Since he is walking solo, he is not yet sure about taking the Haute Route des Pyrénées variant, which is very wild and remote. We suggest climbing Mont Calme and he agrees. So the three of us head toward Étang de Soulcem, the iconic photo of Stage 5, and the point where the classic route splits from the one toward Mont Calme.
Alex falls in love with the Pyrenean mountains and stops every minute to capture the beauty with his new camera. Meanwhile, Mathieu and I keep moving, swapping our trail anecdotes.
As we head toward the alternative route, we realise the gusts are getting stronger and stronger. Nothing serious yet, but we need to keep an eye on the weather over the next hours. Around midday, after a long walk through a valley, we finally get to admire the perfect blue of Étang de Soulcem, surrounded by impressive peaks, including Mont Calme rising above 3100 metres.
Over lunch, we weigh our options. To reach the Pic du Mont Calme, we would need to take a very demanding alternative, almost entirely on boulder fields, with no markings to guide us. The regular route avoids the climb by skirting the mountains, but offers fewer jaw dropping viewpoints.
In the sky there is not a single cloud. The sun rules the day, and the chance of showers or storms is basically minus 100 percent. The real issue is the wind. Even where we are, it is already blowing with gusts around 80 kilometres per hour. On the summit, it is forecast to reach 100 kilometres per hour, with temperatures close to zero.
Attempting the ascent in those conditions would be too risky, since we would be moving on steep boulder fields. A bit disappointed, we choose safety and take the regular route. It still lets us admire the lake and take the same photo as the Stage 5 emblem.
Before long, we reach Monicou, a tiny hamlet where we can bivouac for free. There is also a gîte, but it is closed for renovations. A shower is still available for three euros, and we take the chance to get rid of, or try to, our hiker smell. Freezing cold, we slightly overdo the length of our showers. Eight minutes max, not that bad. Without knowing the tank is very limited. When the last person goes, there is no hot water left. The owner gets angry and makes it very clear. He claims that normally fifteen people can shower in a row. Right, if we do the maths, that is one minute and thirty seconds each. We apologise, but nothing calms him down and he eventually leaves.
With Alex, Mathieu and another HRP hiker, we share a meal together. Then we go back to our tents. Just before bed, I put my charger in the toilets so I will have enough battery to start the Haute Route des Pyrénées tomorrow.
Day 117: A Day to Forget
The next morning, when I go to get my charger from the toilets, I am unpleasantly surprised to find it is gone. I wonder if the owners simply moved it. After asking, the answer is no, nobody has seen it.
Damn, it makes me angry. Someone stole it. There are not many possibilities, we were only four using those toilets, since the gîte is closed. If it was another hiker, that is really disappointing. Everyone knows how important every single object in our pack is. I have to start the Haute Route des Pyrénées tomorrow, recharging spots will be rare, and now I no longer have my battery, my USB cable, or my wall plug adaptor.
There is nothing to do. I cannot exactly search people to get my things back. Luckily, since I am walking with Alex, he has his battery and wall plug. We will share until we reach a real town where I can buy what I need.
Around 9.00 am, we finally start walking. I do not know if it is the theft that puts me in this state, but I have a terrible feeling about the day. You know that feeling when everything seems fine on paper, but instinctively you sense something is off? That is me today.
To make it worse, the day starts with a brutally steep climb through the woods. A few kilometres later, we get lost and add two kilometres through tall grass. And when we finally find the trail again, the sky darkens dangerously and my dear Meteoblue suddenly shows a chance of storms soon. Brilliant. Truly brilliant. So we speed up to reach a shelter.
After a hard climb at too fast a pace, we reach the point where the app shows a shelter. Small problem, it seems to be a shepherd’s hut, and it is locked. I open Organic Maps and notice the shelter marked on their map is a few hundred metres further. We walk on and finally find it.
The shelter is not in great shape, but it will do. We decide to have lunch and reassess the weather. I pull out a packet of dehydrated tourtière, courtesy of my parents who wanted to prank me. I hate this meal, so dehydrated too, no thanks. I give it to Alex, who is absolutely up for trying it. For Quebec immersion, I would rather have introduced him to poutine.
After talking it through, we decide not to go further. I really do not feel good about the day, and the next section, the Col du Port de l’Artigue, would force us onto big boulder fields for the entire climb. Also, no way are we sleeping inside the shelter, there is mouse droppings everywhere. Since our food reserves are already shrinking a bit too fast, impossible for me to ration, especially chocolate, we are not letting the mice help themselves to our bags.
The rest of the day is quiet. We watch series, but not much, thanks to the battery thief, play chess, and I try to catch up on writing.
Hoping tomorrow is better.
Day 118: Forward Onto the HRP
The next day, we get up early. Since we did almost no walking yesterday, we want to make good progress today. We leave with headtorches, and not long after, we get the first gift of the day, a magnificent sunrise.
That lovely dawn light does not last long, because quickly we plunge into mist while climbing Port de l’Artigue.
A game of “Where is Wally” begins, but with red and white trail markers on boulder fields. Alex is pretty good at spotting them and takes the lead while I follow. After a long effort, we finally reach the top, where it is freezing and the wind is strong. We do not hang around and immediately start the descent.
Thankfully the mist fades more and more on the other side, and beautiful landscapes begin to appear. All it took was patience.
Excited by the blue sky revealing itself, we keep walking and reach Estany de Romedo de Valt. Beautiful, but it also marks a decision point, because it sits at the junction between the regular route and the Haute Route des Pyrénées.
This alternative leaves the main route for a long time and is not to be taken lightly. Rated T4 plus, it includes challenges related to technical terrain, navigation, isolation and resupply. In return, it promises breathtaking landscapes. Since we are two, and the weather forecast shows a good weather window for the next days, we decide to take this legendary route. Adventure time.
After a climb that feels endless, we are far too hungry, we reach Estany de Cercascan and its refuge, which apparently offers an incredible welcome to HexaTrekkers. And I assure you, it is exceptional.
The wardens greet us with smiles and prepare a gigantic meal, even though we are outside normal service hours. We get a huge plate of pasta, sausages and bread. Our rations have been limited for days, so eating until full feels amazing.
The manager offers some resupply, and we choose cake, biscuits and chocolate. I also buy a new gas canister, yes they even have that, because mine is running low. Then comes the little miracle. When I mention that my battery was stolen, he tells me he has an extra one at the refuge and gives it to me, plus a new cable and a wall plug. For me it is a magical moment, the kind that makes you feel unbelievably lucky. Trail magic.
When we leave, it is already 3.00 pm. Oops. That is life, we really needed the break. The weather shifts again, and for the first time on the trail, it starts to snow. Yes, snow in September. Meanwhile, Montreal is in a heatwave. It feels like Canada and France swapped climates this year.
We are moving well, but it gets later and later. We are descending in mist when we hear growls. We freeze. Robin, Hugo and another HexaTreker passed here a few days ago and told us they found the corpse of a horse, killed by a bear.
A small interesting fact for those who do not know, there are brown bears in the Pyrenees. They are very few and the chance of seeing one is extremely low, but they are there. Although they are usually scared of humans, they can become aggressive if surprised.
So we start singing, clacking our trekking poles together, and blasting music on our phones. We are probably overdoing it, but I do not fancy being on the bear’s menu tonight
With the repeated growls, the falling snow and the light fading, I can tell you that when we see a refuge appear, we do not hesitate to spend the night there. It has just been renovated and there is nobody inside.
Tonight the temperature will drop below zero, so we are very happy not to have to sleep in a tent. Outside, we keep hearing growls, as well as a moan that sounds like an injured cow. Poor thing. I hope that by tomorrow, the bear roaming nearby will have moved on.