Category: 2017 GR10

There is some dispute to why we didn’t start until 11 today. I blame Pam, Pam blames me–welcome to the people’s court where you are the judge. As we stated just 3 days ago, we need to make earlier starts every day so that we can finish this trail and move on to the Tour du Mont Blanc. I took it upon myself to set an alarm for 7:15 this morning, after all, we stopped hiking at 4 yesterday afternoon and got to bed well before 10 last night.

When the alarm went off, I automatically hit the snooze (Pam NEVER gets up without at least one snooze, so I was just being a good husband). When the alarm went off again, Pam said “one more snooze,” so I obliged like an obedient husband would. The next time it went off, Pam said “I’m not ready to get up yet.” Clearly, the implication was “shut that damn alarm off or I’ll stab you in the throat.” Of course, I complied. I’m not finished with my throat just yet.

At 9:53, Pam jumps out of bed claiming to be the first one up and that we need to get moving like I was the one holding us up. I was clearly ready to start moving 2 hours earlier, yet she blames me for the late start. Keep in mind, that I still had to get up and make her breakfast, neglecting all of my packing and personal hygienic needs while she took care of hers. I, the good husband, made her coffee and hot muesli and neglected all my needs. So who is to blame for the late start? Some may say this is a one-sided argument, but this is reality blogging and I have the keypad. Please make your decision now.

An astounding 98% of you sided with me and blamed Pam for the late start. Kudos to all of you for your keen understanding of the natural order of things. But I’ve got a secret–I can read. I read the guidebook last night (surprisingly, he’s wrong on most things, but he always seems to get the elevations right). It said we had almost 6000′ of gain today with 4000′ of it being right off the start. That’s why I succumbed to my wife’s desire to sleep late.

At least the trail was well marked right from the start. There weren’t as many zig zags (as dead men say) and the trail was quite steep in several places. But what made it difficult was the heat and flies. It clouded up before we made the top, but it was a high cloud cover so we still had great views at every pass we went over. The flies didn’t get better until it started to rain–much later in the day after we were done hiking.

We’ve been in France for almost 2 months and I’m starting to get a feel for things. Some things I like a lot better than the USA and some I don’t. There are a few things I would like to incorporate in our home when/if we ever quit traveling: 1) no squatter–I prefer a toilet. 2) I like toilet seats so we will definitely have one on each and every toilet (I’m sure some women were complaining about the seat being left up, so a refuge guardian said to hell with it and removed all the seats. Of course, this spread like wildfire as a way to stop women complaining about leaving the seat up, they just forgot that men occasionally need the seat as well, but too late, the point had been made). 3) I like the idea of a water closet, I just want the door far enough from the toilet so I can put my legs together without having to lift them up and rest them on the door (sometimes I enjoy the alone time and like to read) 4) While on the subject of door space in the water closet, I want to be able to clean up the Netherlands (not the country, but thanks autocorrect) without having to turn my head sideways and plaster it on the door. 5) Speaking of cleaning the Netherlands, I like the shower head on a flexible line–no fixed heads in our house. 6) I like all the shutters on the windows.

Somehow, I got off the subject of today’s hike. The trail was well marked, that is, until we got to the second Cabane that was supposed to have food stocked for sale in it and didn’t. I am talking about the Cabane we are camped below. Not as far below it as we had planned because the trail just disappeared. We spent over 1/2 hour trying to find the trail and were thrown off by a dead guy’s sketch (why we believed him now, I don’t know). After scrambling around for a while, crossing the creek several times, dealing with cows with inferiority complexes, and wading through bogs, we found the trail. Exactly where the dead guy said it wasn’t.

Continue reading “Day 59–Sunday, August 27. Below Cabane de Balledreyt (6.5 miles)”

Before we went to bed, Suzy asked us what time we would like breakfast. We chose a neutral time of 8. When we came down, she had coffee, toast, butter, jam, and cereal all waiting for us. She even offered to cook us eggs. After breakfast, she took us on a tour of the village.

A century ago, Goulier had a population of 1400 and was a thriving mountain community with plenty of jobs in the mining industry. Her father’s father died when he was just 3 years old. Her grandmother raised him in one of the lower rooms in the house. To make money, she had a cafe on the second floor of her home which was a popular gathering spot in town. She also sold meals to the miners. I meant to ask the time frame when her dad was young, but this had to be pre WWI when his dad died.

The house is a very nice 3 & 1/2 story home with a balcony that looks out to the ski area above. She has been refurbishing the home and adding modern conveniences. The third floor she has configured into a “mini-dorm” for when friends or her grandchildren come to visit.

In her living room was a picture of the church from the time frame we were talking about. It is on the edge of town and has no buildings or trees around it. Today, there is a large cemetery next to it, as well as a reproduction of an old stone shepherd’s hut which children can play in. Next to the church is the Mairie (town hall). The town has streets too narrow for cars, so there are car parks on the edge of town. In summertime, there are up to 400 people living here, but in winter, only 25 homes are occupied. The winters can be pretty brutal in the mountains.

We weren’t in a big hurry to leave Suzy, but it was getting late after our tour of town. We started packing up about 9:30 and hit the trail by…our usual 10. Suzy walked us out of town (presumably to make sure we actually left). Actually, she took us a shorter route out (since we had already hiked down from above, this wasn’t a shortcut, it was payback). She pointed our her gardens where she was growing raspberries and fresh vegetables. Her main house is about an hour and a half away in Toulouse.

What a difference a day makes. The trail today was ideal. We still climbed a bit (only 1500′ with a 2600′ decline) but it was mostly in a pine forest. A beautifully marked trail with not even a hint of a wrong turn. We only met one person on the trail today; a man from London who was “section hiking” the GR10 but was planning on skipping large sections of what we have just hiked the last 2 days (are we the only purists around?)

In an ideal world, I would put a day like today every 3-4 days of hiking in the Pyrenees. It helps to break up the routine of climb 4000′ (the first 2500′ possibly in the forest, then emerge into full, treeless sun) then descend 4000′ (mostly on lose scree or steep rocks) into the next village. The European hiking experience isn’t the quest for wilderness that Americans are looking for. They want a strenuous day of exercise followed by a a warm meal prepared for them and a soft bed to sleep in. It’s not a bad scenario, just out of my price range if I want to live this lifestyle for the next 8-10 years (maybe if I gradually extend the time period, Pam won’t notice–doh, I shouldn’t state it where she will edit it).

We got into Siguer a little before 4. I’ve got to give the stiff credit on this one. He said there were no services here other than a small gite. There is NOTHING here other than a small gite AND a free municipal gite. The municipal gite sleeps 6, has a shower and water closet, and, most importantly, is free. And, we got it all to ourselves. It may not seem like luxury to couch potatoes, but we have had showers 2 days in a row now. And porcelain!

We checked the register, and we are just a day behind Peter and Alaina so we might catch them if they take another day off. I think they might be staying at the yurt tomorrow night. Also, Fred was here on Monday. Even though we can’t keep up with the people we meet hiking, we can keep up with them.

I’m getting to be pretty good at attempting to wash my clothes in the shower with me–not effective at cleaning them. I notice a smell in my socks, but at least I get enough sweat out of them to make it to our next laundry day–only 5 days away. 2 pairs of socks should be more than sufficient for 10 days between washes–we’re living the life.

Last night, Suzy had a scales in her bathroom. It turns out I’ve lost over 38 pounds to Pam’s 15 so she has decided I need to be eating 500 calories a day more than her. She let me eat a candy bar on the trail today which was about 200 calories. After supper, I pointed out that I was still running shy of the caloric goal she has for me and that if she gave me her M&Ms, it would help close the gap. I did manage to keep my fingers and she let me have 1 of hers making 10 for me and 8 for her–I consider this a major win. Pam has been known to eat 1/2 of an M&M rather than let me have a number advantage.

First off, some house keeping. I guess I need to say this first, Happy 8th anniversary to my wife. That’s just the anniversary of our becoming a couple, we’ve still only been married 7 months, 8 days, and 2 hours–but who’s counting. Important note to self, when Pam says can you believe it’s been 8 years, do not respond with “it seems a lot longer” meaning it feels like we’ve always been together. Women just don’t think the same as men.

Next up, this is the day that Fred has left the trail in Merens which we won’t get to for another 4 days. Being hiking purists, we insist on not skipping any sections of the trail no matter how bad of a day’s hike might be–more on that in a moment.

First, a solemn moment for my brother-in-law, George. We received bad news today that he has passed from Europe–may he Rest In Peace. His original intent was to hike the GR10 with us, but he made the right call by skipping this because it would have killed him sooner. As it is, he wasn’t planning on leaving Europe until the middle of September. He was just three weeks shy of making his goal for the year. So, may he rest peacefully until December when we get back to start making plans for New Zealand. That should be more than enough recovery time.

So far, we have resisted everyone’s attempts to get us to skip sections of the trail and we have always had a pleasant surprise for us by not skipping. Today, our streak ended. I can say, without a doubt, this was the worst section of trail we have encountered on the GR10. They must have been running low on red and white paint because they didn’t want to waste any of it by putting an extra “X” on wrong turns (or putting the hashes on the correct trail either). We got lost/took the wrong turn/backtracked 4 times today which cost us an extra 2 hours of walking on an otherwise crappy trail.

The saddest part about this section is that it has a memorial to the “Father of the GR10” so you might think that this would be a well maintained and marked section of the trail–nay, nay, nay.

Pierre did a great job watching out for us last night and we had an excellent sleep. Almost too much of one because we didn’t wake up until 8:30. Even with the late wake up, we were on the trail by 9:37. We would have been better off sleeping an extra hour. Right off the bat we took a wrong turn (no “X”). This cost us 2 hours in my book but Pam insists it only cost us 43 minutes. This was 43 fresh minutes–my best hiking time of the day. Those 43 minutes stretch out to 2 hours of equivalent hiking time (EHT) by the end of the day when I’m wore down.

Not to mention all the energy I spent swearing up a storm about the trail. I tried to blame the guidebook, but it was surprisingly innocent in this case. If I would have listened to him, we could have just road hiked and had no problems. We chose to actually hike in the woods (which the author seems to hate).

We eventually got on the right track to only have it peter out at the other end where it’s supposed to cross back over to the road. More missing markings. We were close enough to the stream that we could find the bridge to cross and get back on the road. As soon as we got on the road, we saw a sign for the GR10 pointing in two different directions. It was advertising a shortcut (which we chose to avoid).

Our guidebook said to go to the end of the road and follow the trail up to Etang d’Izourt (a man-made lake for hydro-electric). When we got to the end of the road, there were markings in all directions–at least 4 different trails had red and white slashes (these markings are used on ALL trails which can be confusing at trail junctions). I was about ready to backtrack and take the shortcut option (we had walked enough extra miles and wasted too much time already). As I was about to give up (punctuated by a lot of swearing) we saw a trail runner that pointed us in the right direction.

We started up the trail; it was scary because it felt right and agreed with our guidebook. I’m always weary if the guidebook starts to make sense. I needed additional confirmation. We found a group coming towards us and they confirmed we were headed toward the correct lake. We’d have been happy if they stopped there, but they told us it was an hour away. For us, that means two hours. We stopped for lunch and considered our options. In the end, the purist won.

The trail was very crowded all the way up to the lake. We stopped and looked around a bit and then continued on the GR10 back up the valley we had just come down, but on a much higher trail (3000′ above the valley floor). We didn’t see a single person on this section of trail. For all the people claiming to hike the GR10 every year, a lot of people skip this section.

We were getting tired by now and it was the hottest part of the day. We didn’t leave the lake until almost 3p. Now that I’ve calmed down, the trail was pretty exciting running the 5 miles back. There were a few places that were a little “hairy” that required a little more effort that one might expect on a hiking trial (a couple of 5-6′ vertical scrambles which were difficult with heavy packs) and the trail was very narrow at times (less than a boot’s width and angled down and out with evidence of slides along the trail). Now I can say they were cool. Then, not so much.

By the time we got to the monument for the “father of the GR10,” we were pretty disappointed that better care on marking and maintaining this section of trail was no better than it was. We still had about 1000′ to drop into Goulier and we were beat. It was already past 7. We had passed a stone shelter that I was willing to stay at, but Pam was set on a shower and electricity at the gite–guess who wins when there are disagreements between us (and she will vehemently deny that she nearly always gets her way, but she does).

Now I can legitimately berate the dead guy again. When we got to the bottom of the decline, he said to take the road and head UP to town. We took the road up, and up, and up. After about 20 additional minutes of road walking (no, there weren’t any trail markings in either direction on the road) I figured out that we had overshot the town by 1/2 mile and 300′ of elevation gain. I was really pissed now and on a good rant (Pam would call it a tantrum, I call it venting). I was ready to quit the trail by the time we finally made it to town.

It was 8:30 and we just wanted to get to the gite. I stopped by one open house and the woman inside heard me say gite. She gave me a passionate explanation about the gite, but I couldn’t understand a word. I thanked her and headed to the town center. We found another local man who told us the gite was closed and would reopen sometime in October. We are slow, but I think we will be done before then.

Pam was crestfallen. We sat in the central plaza to filter water and cook supper in town. Since the town was almost empty, we thought we’d be ok. Our InReach died on the way into town so Pam had no lifeline to her kids (even though the only time they have initiated a conversation over it was to ask for money–I wasn’t too concerned about it being dead).

We’ve been extremely low twice before on this trail and close to quitting. Both times, we were saved by Axel and Heike. The first time was in Gabas on day 20 when we ran into them their last night on the trail. The second time was when the trail was similarly poorly marked around Bareges. Axel wrote us a very encouraging and helpful email to keep us going. (In fairness, I should mention Dave Anderson sent me a note “Quit whining and continue hiking. You’ve been talking about going on a hiking adventure ever since I met you.”). This time, there wasn’t any hope of making contact with them since we are another 5 days from internet. Tonight, our savior was a local woman, Suzy.

A couple of women came through the square while we were eating and told us we could camp at the gite even if it was closed. One took me up to show me where while Pam continued eating. It took so long to walk up and back that she got a little worried. When I got back, she sat dejectedly filtering water while I finished my supper. She must have looked like a character from a Charles Dickens novel or maybe the young girl from Les Miserables because Suzy walked into the plaza, took one look at her and asked “Would you like to sleep in a nice bed and take a shower?” Obviously, the odors emanating from both of us are quite strong.

This complete stranger took both of us into her ancestral home in the middle of the village. We were so worn down and thankful to this gracious gesture. She offered us food, drink, showers, a bed, and even laundry if we wanted. It was already well past 9 and we just wanted to get clean and go to sleep. She showed us our room and the layout of the house and let us get ready for bed. This couldn’t have happened to us at a better time. We were at another low point and Suzy kept our trail alive through her kindness.

We both agreed that we have gotten too lax since we decided the GR20 is off our plate for this year. We have taken so many days off and long breaks that now the Tour du Mont Blanc might be in jeopardy if we don’t get our acts together and start hiking. Too show how serious we are: 1) we are going to start hiking earlier every day (we hit the trail at 8:20 today–a full 4 hours earlier than yesterday), 2) we are going to stop taking 2 hour lunches (today’s lunch was only an hour and a half after we had just had a 15 minute break–baby steps), 3) we are going to hike more than 4 hours a day (we hiked almost 8 hours today), and 4) Pam is not going to whine and complain about the long days and early mornings (I threw that one in in the hopes it makes it past the editing process).

There were a lot of English speakers in the refuge last night and 2 birthdays. We had dinner with a couple from Paris (Patrick and Anne) and discussed guidebooks. He likes the Cicerone guidebook he thought we had better than his French one. Once he saw the one we had, he said that book sucks–we heartily agreed. We also met a couple of English women that were friends in college 20 years ago, and thanks to Facebook, they have reunited and are doing a few days of hiking to get reacquainted. All in all, we enjoyed our refuge experience, but we agreed that we are through eating at them. The food at gites is far superior and less expensive. The refuges are in more remote locations and tend to skimp on meals because everything is so costly to get in to them (usually by helicopter).

Today’s hike was a lot of fun. Many people (Fred, Peter & Alaina, Patrick & Anne) have all tried to get us to skip the loops to the south that were on the agenda for today and tomorrow because we only end up maybe 5 miles closer to the Mediterranean with over 20 miles of hiking. A couple other times, people tried to get us to take shortcuts and if we had, we would have missed a beautiful river valley heading into Aulus. Today proved to be not worth missing as well.

After walking about 4 miles through boulder fields next to alpine lakes, we entered a forest and descended to the cutoff to Auzat (even the guidebook recommends taking the cutoff so that cinched it for us–if dead men recommend something, ignore them). The worthless guidebook says we descend to an aqueduct, nothing more. We ended up walking ON the aqueduct for over 2 miles. What an engineering marvel this was.

We didn’t realize we were even walking on it until I heard echos from Pam’s footsteps. She had been losing weight and looking quite slim, but after a snack, she managing to shake the mountain we are walking on; I thought we ate the same snack, but she had more peanuts…

Why it was built, when it was built, how long it was used, anything at all of interest about this engineering wonder was omitted from our guidebook. I have no doubt the dead guy liked the GR10. He just didn’t show any interest in anything around it. Enquiring minds want to know. I surmised that this was built post WWII and was used for mining operations further down valley, but I don’t know for certain. All I know is that this aqueduct is at least 4 miles long and built several hundred feet above the valley floor. It’s more than 6′ deep and 5′ wide and built along a cliff face with bored tunnels in the mountain when it changes direction around a ravine. I was fascinated by this and would have missed it completely if I had listened to people who try to get me out of my purist mentality.

My purist mentality–let me expand. I know I’ve said several times, we came to hike the GR10, not most of the GR10. Very few people actually hike the trail in its entirety. Even the people we have met who said that are doing that, tend to take buses, or shortcuts, or avoid large stretches of the trail because the route doesn’t make sense (like hiking 20 miles to only gain 5). The trail designers chose the route for a reason and I want to see why. I’m sure we will get a nice surprise on tomorrow’s loop as well.

Back to today’s hike and the putz who wrote our guidebook. Even if you took away the aqueduct, we still wouldn’t want to miss the loop we took today. We also went through the village of Marc which he just acknowledges it might exist. The trail is built around a series of waterfalls and deep pools in a steep and narrow stream. People were jumping off of falls into pools and having a great time. It was a charming village and even had a honey shop.

He also describes the valley as “dank and dark.” I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about unless he considers a conifer forest to be dank and dark. His preference must be to only walk in full sun above tree line. As for us, we like a change of scenery. One of the complaints we have with the GR10 is that it’s the same day after day without much variation to the routine.

We wanted to make it further than Mounicou (which is the 2/3 point of the trail). There was a cabin about an hour and 20 minutes past the town. How far is that? One hour and 20 minutes–don’t get me started again! According to the maps (which also suck in the book) it was 1800′ higher and 2.5 miles down the trail–don’t tell me how fast I should walk! I’ll walk at whatever pace I want–give me facts, damn it.

When we made it to the cabin, it was kind of nice. We were led to believe there was camping near and a water supply; both of which were WRONG. The water supply made Cabane Besset look like Niagra Falls (we managed to collect a liter of water over night). Once again, we were low on water, so we had to go on to the next source of water which was (how far?–an hour and 20 minutes) 3 miles and 2000′ lower.

We knew when we headed up that it was a real possibility we would have to travel on and I wanted to make it as far as Arties today anyway so I didn’t press filling up with water when we had the chance. It was early enough that we’d be fine and make camp before dark. Arties is not much of a village, but it did have potable water and a squatter. We filled up (and emptied out as well) before leaving town to find a flat spot.

The beautiful thing about mountains is that they can go for miles without having a flat spot large enough for a tent. About 200 years ago, Pierre decided he needed to create some walls on his property so he could have a few flat spots (Pierre only lived about 1/2 mile out of what he mistakingly thought, would one day be a thriving village). Fortunately for us, Pierre never developed the spot beyond the walls and not that many trees have taken over the area. We managed to squeeze our tent next to the wall and send a heart felt thank you across time to Pierre because I was carrying an extra 4 liters of water and was ready to stop. I just wish he had not filled in the space behind the wall with rocks to make it level–please, Pierre, since you did a half-assed job with the wall and field, make sure we don’t have any wind tonight.

We got started a full two hours and 15 minutes earlier than yesterday. That sure sounds better than we didn’t hit the trail until 12:15. There are excuses; I mean reasons, for the late start. 1) I couldn’t pry Pam’s ass out of bed because, 2) there was lightening outside, and 3) heavy rains soon followed, and 4) we are old and tired.

I woke up at 6:30 like we had planned. Meaning we had planned to set an alarm to get an early start, but didn’t. I woke up then because I had to pee for the 7th time in the night. (That’s the last time I have 3 cafe-au-laits, 2 cokes, 3.5 liters of water, .5 liters of tea plus a few other drinks in a single day.). It was already drizzling when I got up and Pam did her best acting job pretending she was asleep. I know she was acting because the other 6 times I got up, she said “you’ve got to pee again? You need to get checked.”

When we went to bed, we could hear what sounded to be a few thousand head of cattle above us on the the road. I went up to check them out–there were about 30, but they were very active. Through the course of the night, they passed through our camp heading downhill (so much for my theory that they won’t bother us in the thick forest). When the rain started this morning, they decided to head back up to the road. Several young ones were startled by our tent and even stuck their heads in the door to see what this pointed thing was. I almost started a stampede when I yelled “boo.”

The sun did come out and dry up everything once the rains stopped. That’s excuse #5 (my bad, reason #5), we had to dry out the tent before we could leave. We still had another 2300′ left in the climb we started yesterday. The guidebook was really off this time–it said 3 hours and 10 minutes to make the pass and we took 24 hours and 20 minutes. How can we effectively plan a trip with errors in time of this magnitude?

We had cloudy skies with occasional sun which is exactly the type of weather we prefer to hike in. By the time we made it to the lake we had planned to camp at last night, the clouds had grown very dark and angry looking. I heard thunder in the distance, but Pam, who has a 6th, 7th, and 8th sense for approaching storms couldn’t hear a thing. I made her turn and look to our backs, but she didn’t care. She’s fighting the flu today. (My symptoms are slightly better–I think I might eventually recover from this).

I thought the gourmet lunch we had at the first pass might make her feel better. It definitely helped me when my pack weight dropped 3 pounds (1 liter of water, 1/2 pound of cheese, and 1/4 pound of olives). There were a lot of people out compared to what we saw yesterday (only 1 person yesterday-there were 9 people at the pass when we arrived).

Coming down from the second pass (Col de Bassies) we could see a half dozen lakes and a great looking refuge above them all. Pam stated she was not coming out of the refuge until the storm passed. I took that to mean we were staying here tonight since there were dark clouds in all directions.

When we got to the refuge, it started to sprinkle a bit. We went in for a beer and went ahead and got beds for the night. I don’t think our “flus” are going to get any better tonight since we are getting supper and breakfast, but we need the meals since it has taken 2 days for us to make it where the guidebook says we should be in 4.5 hours after leaving town. At the rate we are going in this section of the GR10, Mont Blanc might be in jeopardy if we don’t pick up the pace. Pam asked if we couldn’t just live on the GR10 for the rest of our lives–not a good sign for a big day tomorrow.

We couldn’t leave the campground until 9a because we had to pay and that’s when the office opened. I woke up a little before 8 and took care of my necessities while Pam slept blissfully on. At 8:15, I woke her up. We were all packed and ready to go when the office opened.

Since we were still in a town, we decided to save the food we had bought yesterday and find a cafe to have a cup of coffee. Since the restaurant in town doesn’t sell food (don’t ask me why they call themselves a restaurant), he didn’t mind that I bought a few pastries and yogurt from the tobacco store (restaurants don’t sell food, but tobacco stores do–it’s a different world in France). We sat and wrote the blog entry for yesterday.

We decided to stop back by the tourist office to finish the entry for Friday since I had already uploaded the pictures and make the picture selection for yesterday. I started having technology issues right away which only compounded my anxiety for running late after such a good start. After I got some new software installed and rebooted the iPad while Pam kept me abreast of the eclipse back home (which we slept through–no one reminded us!) it was already noon. We decided, screw it, might as well have lunch if we can maybe find a doctors office that sells food since the restaurant was now closed for lunch.

There was a sign in front of the tourist information mentioning a snack bar. I asked the helpful woman from yesterday about it. She said it was good, but that it had closed two days ago. I asked why the sign was still up and she said a new owner was going to reopen it soon. We had found a another miniature golf/snack bar near the park yesterday, but it was closed being a Monday. We thought we’d throw caution to the wind and see if a place that is supposed to sell food might actually be open at lunch time–jackpot.

We were the first customers for the day since it was only noon. One of the owners came out and chatted with us for a bit and then the head chef came out and explained what she couldn’t. They were very friendly and accommodating. We managed to overeat in the name of carbing up for the next 6-8 day portion without towns. As long as we hit a gite or refuge once within that period, we’ll be fine with all we have. Bottom line, (Pete, keep pressure on your head to keep it from exploding) we hit the trail at 2:30.

The nice thing about carrying a lot of food is the daily progress you make when you leave a town. The first day, you are dragging and feel like you a mild case of the flu. You walk a few steps, feel kind of dizzy, take a sip of water and wipe the sweat off of your face. Day two, you lose a little a little pack weight and start feeling a little better. You can walk twice as far between breaks. You start to feel like you may eventually recover. Day three is even better. By day 7, you’ve almost used all the food but you come to another town and catch the flu again–hiking is a vicious cycle between vomiting and feeling great.

Since we have such a long stretch without shops this time, I let Pam enjoy carrying some of the load. She had a terrible case of the flu today. Add in the fact that we only have 4 ibuprofen left and she starts having sweats in anticipation of VI withdrawals.

The trail wasn’t that bad, but when both of you have flu symptoms, a 4000′ climb becomes daunting. Add in the late start, we were ready to quit after climbing only 1700′. We stopped to cool off and get a drink of fresh water. We both decided we had had enough and started looking for a spot to camp by the stream. There weren’t any. This is where I screwed up. We should have filled everything that could hold water so the next level spot we could stop and be fine for the night. I was tired and not thinking straight.

We started climbing again and found great camping spots, but no water nearby. After climbing another 800′ (and kicking myself all the way–doing double duty hiking) we found another source of running water. We dropped packs, filtered 6 liters. And filled 2.5 liters of dirty water into the squeeze bags. We now had enough to safely cook dinner and breakfast and make it to the next “known” water source.

With 8.5 liters of water combined with our flu symptoms, I knew we didn’t want to travel much further. Before we put on our packs, we decided to scout for campsites in both directions. Less than 100 yards ahead (and only gaining another 50′ of altitude), I found two great possibilities. We loaded up our packs and took the closest site in the woods.

Someone had obviously used this spot before because there was a fire ring and a nice little shelf made out of limbs. We set up the tent to dry while Pam went to wash up and I sat down to write this entry. All we had left to do was cook supper and inflate our bed and it was a complete day. 5 miles, all 2600′ uphill with limited ibuprofen–let the complaining begin!

I had a great adrenaline scare in the night. I had to get up to pee (no, that’s not the scare, that’s the norm). When I stepped out of the tent, I heard a “snarl, grr, snarl, bark” and it was heading for me. I yelled and reached back in the tent for my headlamp (no, I don’t step far away in the middle of the night). I turned it on and aimed it in the direction of the approaching demon. When I shined the light on it, like all demons of the night, it stopped charging and started to wilt away. What was a 300# creature of the night quickly reduced itself to a 10# brown quivering rodent. I just caught a short glance of its red burning eyes as it finished its transformation back to a badger.

 

Other than our “hounds of hell” scare, we didn’t sleep well because the tent was at too much of an angle and it was cold. Pam had the downhill side which should have been great for her–I kept rolling on top of her to keep her warm. If she wasn’t such a wild thrasher in the night, I would have slept well, but it’s obvious the honeymoon is over after just 7 months and 4 days.

 

Since we were in a bowl, the sun didn’t come down into the base until almost 9. Pam has never been one to venture out from under the covers in search of a clock. At 8:45, I had to make my third exit from the tent and noticed the bright blue sky. Are you ready, Pete? Brace yourself–we got on the trail at 10:30. We were not planning on a long day today; only 5.5 miles according to the dead guy. Plus, the stiff said an easy hike all downhill.

It was a beautiful hike and a gorgeous day. The temperature was ideal and we were walking through a mixed conifer/beech forest. The only problem was it was on various sized boulders and rocks. We had to pay attention to every step and if we wanted to look around, we had to stop or risk falling or twisting an ankle. It was like this for 5.5 miles of the 6.5 we actually hiked (I guess he doesn’t include easy stretches in his mileage calculations). This is what I imagine Pennsylvania to be like on the Appalachian Trail.

After we made it to where we had planned to stay last night (but didn’t), people started to appear. Lot’s of people. At first 10s and then groups of 10. All in all, we passed well over 100 people, and it wasn’t much past noon on a Monday. We stopped to soak our feet/ankles in a stream while we ate lunch and people watched. The book said this was a popular spot, but we couldn’t tell why. Some were heading on to the lake we stayed at last night, but everyone seemed to just want to play in the stream where we were eating.

Relatively full with frozen ankles and feet, we packed back up to head into Aulus. A sign on the trail said only 1 hour 30 minutes. This was great news, we’d be in town early enough to get all of our town chores done and still get a good night’s sleep. We started creeping down this huge boulder field which alternated with a stream. In rainy times this must be a miserable walk. But the people kept coming. After we had been climbing down about 20 minutes, we finally understood the draw. We rounded a bend in the trail and saw a 300’+ water fall. It was an amazing sight and it was the stream we had been soaking our feet in less than half an hour ago.

We continued climbing down for about another 20 minutes, and when we got to the bottom of the rock scramble, we saw another sign–Aulus 1 hour 30 minutes. I know the French hikers are fast, but the only way you get from the previous sign to this one that fast is a direct path i.e. Falling off the cliff and then I’m sure a rescue is still going to take more than 1 hour and 30 minutes. We knew now that we had no idea where we were and how long it would take to get to Aulus. We’d just keep walking and hope we make it before everything closes.

After another hour of walking, there was a bridge crossing the river (yes, we’ve upgraded the stream to river with all the other waterfalls feeding into it along this gorge). To the upriver side of the bride, there were a huge number of cairns that people had built while stopping for a break on their “1.5 hour walk.” We decided to soak our feet/ankles once again to ease the pain of all the downhill walking. While we were soaking away, Bonnie leaned over and said “let’s knock them all down.” Pam wrestled control back from her alter ego and decided to build another cairn as penance for her original inclination.

Getting back on the trail on the other side of the bridge, we saw another sign for Aulus. Not the 1 hour 30 minutes we expected, but only 30 minutes this time. After 2 hours and 20 minutes of walking, we’re finally making progress. We walked another 15 minutes until we saw the GR10 turn to the right to follow the river and saw another sign–“Aulus 45 minutes”. Did we pass the town up? Fortunately, like I said, we were enjoying the beauty of the trail so we just marked it up to the trail maintenance crew channeling bad dead man information.

Finally, at 4, we made it to the edge of Aulus. This is our last major village as we head into a minimum 6 day wilderness. We will really need to carry almost 8 days worth of food and supplies (we know how well we compare to the guidebook estimates). As we walked through town, I got a sinking feeling. No signs of life, no shop, no pharmacy, no restaurant, no gite, no visitor information center. How can we make it to Merens without supplies.

After walking all the way through town, we finally started to see signs of life. A bar appeared like an oasis in the desert. Across the street was a shop, next to the tourist info center. We were saved. We went into the tourist info and asked the woman where the pharmacy was, we needed ibuprofen stat. She told us the nearest pharmacy was in Seix and there was no place to get ibuprofen in France other that at a pharmacy.

Not to be deterred, Pam started quizzing her. Can you get Ibuprofen at the shop? No. How about the tabac? No. Any place in town? No. There’s no pharmacy in town? No. The closest pharmacy is in Seix. What do people in town do if they need ibuprofen? They go to the pharmacy in Seix. It soon became apparent to the woman working the information desk that my wife was highly addicted to ibuprofen and that she was very relieved that it was a controlled substance in France similar to Rolaids and Imodium so riff raff don’t OD on the stuff. But the softer side of her saw the fear in Pam’s eyes. 6 days without vitamin I! She offered to close the office and go get what ibuprofen she had at home so Pam could get her fix.

Once Pam accepted that we weren’t getting any ibuprofen, the rest of the day went pretty smooth. We bought what we could at the shop skipping heavier fruits and cheeses like we normally like to carry and got a bunch of processed food completely devoid of nutrients, but high in calories–we’re eating American style for the next week. We went to the bar/restaurant to repackage our food and grab a meal. Like all restaurants in France, they weren’t serving any food. After a little pleading, we managed to get a ham AND cheese baguette (multiple items on a sandwich appears to be taboo here).

All we had left to do was find a place to stay for the night. There was a campground on the far end of town. We headed there, but when we arrived it was already past 7–they close at 7. We managed to get the attendant to assign us a spot even though we were late and didn’t have reservations. We showered, did laundry, and went to bed hungry. I think this is going to be the norm for the next week–going to bed hungry, not the showering and laundry.

4000′ up, 1600′ down, 8.5 miles. We were supposed to do another 2400′ down and another 5.5 miles which we would have if: we had left before 10 and we hadn’t taken a 2 hour lunch and my right ankle hadn’t given out on me.

Peter and Alaina were planning on leaving the GR10 today for a short cut and to stay at a gite they had reserved way back when. I’m sure this had nothing to do with wanting to get away from us. I’m pretty sure the address of their home and the email address they gave us are probably legit. It seems like people go to great measures to get away from us. Axel and Heike quit the trail left the country. Andre had to hike fast because he “wanted to spend time with his girlfriend.” Jessica only had less than 2 months and she couldn’t hike our speed. Fred even left the GR10 completely for 3 days just to get ahead of us. I swear we shower every few days and brush our teeth at least daily–I don’t know what we are doing to chase everyone off.

The trail today was the worst it has been in the Ariege–that is, it was just like the other districts; very steep and few switchbacks. We were keeping reasonably close to the times posted on the trail signs. 2 hours 10 min to cold feet we did in 2.5 hours. More or less keeping up with the times.

When we came up to the Col d’scots, we heard some people calling to us and waving. Who could possibly still be around that would acknowledge us? Only one family left at this point: Judith, Martin, Mary and John. But this was their last day on the trail as well–we have driven another family from the country. They were sitting and enjoying the view of the ski area over a picnic lunch. It’s hard to believe we met them 11 days ago when they started their vacation in Fos. They are an incredibly nice family. But just our luck–we meet the only British family that all speak French, so when we have an English majority, we still get left behind with dinner conversations.

We almost missed them because we were so focused on lunch in the Chalet Beauregard at the pass. We had tried so hard to get French fries last night and failed miserably. Our guidebook (may he Rest In Peace and go out of print soon) didn’t even mention this restaurant but Peter and Alaina told us about it this morning. We were craving a burger, fries, and a coke. When we read the menu (kind of), the only thing close was steak tartare (is it proper to ask for raw meat well done?) or a hamburger on the kid’s menu. The waitress told us we couldn’t order the kid’s meal, but we could have beef instead of deer on “Mega Burger.” Pam actually asked if we should split one–there was no way I wanted to go through the rationing of French fries like we do M&Ms. It was bad enough that I ready had my shoes and socks off, I didn’t need to draw more attention to us.

In the end, Pam scarfed her own Mega Burger and fries, ordered a dessert, and ate half of mine as well. I was willing to put up with her stealing my food as long as she didn’t start stealing other items from the restaurant. This was the best burger we have had in France. It had mayo, ketchup, and no spit.

When I take my pack off, I always loosen the waist belt so I don’t have to suck my gut in when I put it back on. Going to leave, I couldn’t fasten my waist belt. I still felt like I could eat another burger, but my expanded waist said I’d had enough.

Pam made the mistake of complimenting the trail leaving the ski area. I knew this was going to cost us–never comment on the trail conditions of the GR10 until we are on the Tour du Mont Blanc. As soon as she got done saying it–boulder field. We were hopping from stone to stone while descending 1600′. This is where, without warning, no “pop,” no ache, nothing at all, my right ankle decided to take the rest of the day off. I stepped down off of a bridge and it was gone. Peter and I had talked about this last night and his experience on the GR5 with tendinitis. I was having the exact same problem. I couldn’t extend my right foot and put weight on it.

I experimented with different positions and discovered if I kept my toes pointing up, I could walk. As long as all my weight went on my heel, I could slowly advance. Pam was in heaven. My pain makes her stronger, she was down the trail like a formula one racer. I think she anticipates a nice payout if my ankle disappears while on a steep cliff. She even asked me if my parents would still include her in the will if anything happens to me.

This slowed us down while descending, but once we started climbing again, I could keep up the pace. We did decide to stop about a mile earlier than we had planned because of the various delays. We were hoping to be able to still find a spot at the lake where we are. When we got here, there was no one around. Pam was worried there might be something wrong with the place, but we found a level spot on shore to set up.

One of our goals was to swim in a mountain lake on this trip. Tonight, we did. It was brisk. I tried to keep my quick drying clothes on after we got out to speed the drying process. By the time we finished supper, I was turning blue to match my shirt. The lake is in a bowl and as soon as the sun left the lake, the temperature started dropping. We’re just under 6000′ tonight. While typing this entry out, my fingers are numb, my toes are ice cubes, I can see my breath, and Pam is already snoring–it has the potential to be a long night.

I’ve been experiencing a few biological anomalies lately so I’ve decided to catalog all of the things I’m eating that give me gas so I can avoid these items in the future. Here’s a partial list: apricots, onions, sausage, lentils, pasta, butter, peanut butter, nutella, apples, bread, pork, pizza, and water. The only things that don’t are licorice tea, M&Ms, and snickers–all the things I was told not to eat when I was a kid. Who’s laughing now (certainly not Pam who spends up to 11 hours a night with me in a tent).

2000 up and 2500 down–just like a Cubs/Cardinals matchup with extra innings. Of course the Cubbies win, but that has nothing to do with this. I’m talking about our hiking day. Almost 4500′ of elevation change in a mere 5 miles. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t 2000′ up, straight out of the gite. The first thing we did was drop 50′ to get back to the trail to accentuate the 2000′ climb which we did…in the fog…and rain…and cold…up hill, both ways. (Oops, having some crossover in my misery stories).

Get this, we were the first ones up this morning. We had breakfast with Peter and Alaina. One of the owners had brought fresh bread, jam, butter, and goat cheese in and left it on the table at 6 (and woke us up). Peter and Alaina wanted to leave early today, so they were the first ones downstairs. Once we looked outside and saw the fog and rain, our early breakfast morphed into a leisurely breakfast. We hit the trail at 9.

The trail sign said 2 hours to the top–we took 2 hours and 10 minutes. From the top down to town was 2 hours and 10 minutes–we took 2 hours and 20 minutes. Our guidebook said 2 hours and 50 minutes. Can anyone guess where I’m going with this and the dead guy that wrote our book? I know I’ve kicked that dead horse until it looks like Shakey’s pizza meat (side note to non-Decatur, IL residents–Shakey’s pizza eventually was forced to shut down once the rumor that they used horse meat on their pizzas. This wasn’t true, it was canned cat food).

We were expecting St-Lizier to be a hopping little village because the English family that we met in Fos (Martin, Judith, Mary, and John) had booked a place for 3 nights here. This should be their third night. We thought we might run into them today. If they stayed here more than one night, I have no idea what they did to occupy their time other than watch each other grow thinner out of boredom. There is a gite, restaurant, campground, and shop in town. In true French fashion, the restaurant was closed for lunch (so was the shop).

Pam and I set up our tent in the municipal campsite not too far from Peter and Alaina. We took a nap until the shop reopened at 3:30. We bought a few items for tomorrow and then headed back to the restaurant which was supposed to reopen at 3. When we got there, they had changed the reopening time to 4. We waited around until 4:15 and decided we were to close to Spain. We went back to the shop and bought a couple of cans of lentils and sausage–the French equivalent of franks and beans (see first paragraph of today’s entry).

We also bought a 10 pack of beer which we split with Petter and Alaina. It didn’t take long to see that the beer wasn’t going to be enough. Alaina went and got another bottle of red wine. They had their “frank and beans” and then we finished off the wine. I’m willing to bet we don’t finish the entire 14 miles tomorrow.

Does anyone remember the song “Send in the Clowns?” I woke up at 3a thinking of that song in a slightly different way–“Send in the cows. There ought to be cows. Don’t bother, they’re here.” I guess the herd had moved back into our camping area through the course of the night. The cow bells must have triggered my subconscious song writing skills.

We had a bit of a breeze through the night. There was a steady blow of about 20 mph with gusts up to 40. After the night in Vielle-Aure, I was a little worried about the tent blowing down, but we were able to get tent stakes securely in the ground, so no problem. That is, no problem with the tent blowing down, but the gusts managed to break one of the door clips. Pam remained amazingly calm through the night even if she didn’t sleep any.

I guess I should point out that our number one priority (after finishing the trail) is to see a bear. To that ends, I have made a few changes in the way we camp that we wouldn’t necessarily do in the USA. Change number 1–we regularly eat in the tent. I encourage Pam to be as messy as possible and tell her I will clean up later (and then I don’t). Change number 2–I bought Pam new deodorant. I had to look long and hard to find pepperoni scented deodorant, but thanks to Amazon, all things are possible. Change number 3–Pam insisted we buy honey “for her peanut butter wraps.” She seems surprised at the amount of honey we go through on a daily basis, but I am spreading it around, and on, our tent every night. I hope the Yogi persona of bears is correct. With these additional efforts, I am confident we will see a bear very soon.

When we got out of our tent, Peter and Alaina already had their tent packed up and were eating breakfast. I brewed us some coffee and took our blueberry “cookies” over and we all ate together. Since we are a little tired of the bread and jam French breakfast, we are willing to try anything new. The blueberry things came six to a package which Pam and I split. I think I could have eaten two packages by myself.

We still managed to get out of camp before Peter and Alaina. We owe their delayed start to some rather aggressive horses that took a strong interest in Alaina. I may have accidentally spilled some honey on her pack while I was establishing our perimeter last night. Whatever happened, we were able to get up and over the pass before they caught up with us. After our break, we didn’t see them the rest of the walking day except as a distant silhouette.

The climb to the first pass wasn’t that bad. We were expecting a 1000′ climb which turned out to be 1500′. We handled it without any whining. As least that’s what I think happened. Pam was a little behind me and out of earshot, so I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt here.

After we went over our second pass for the day, the clouds started coming in. Maybe there is something to this idea of Pete’s to get up early and cover the high ground early. For a Canadian, I’m impressed with some of his ideas–but free universal healthcare? Come on. Isn’t it cheaper and more efficient to let our poor die just like all the other industrialized nations in the world? What? That only happens in the third world and the US? Rubbish. Who needs facts? America is great again after just 7 months!

We passed through several small villages, but I’m not going to name any of them because there wasn’t a single cafe in any of them. Do all these people actually cook at home for themselves?

As most good days on the GR10 do, our day ended with a climb into Rouze. It was only 800′, but the trail designers like to remind you who is in charge here. Just to accentuate the point, it started to mist and then become a light rain as we were almost to the gite.

Coming inside, we immediately ran into Peter who told us that the gite was full but the owner would do something to take care of us. We ended up getting the two couches in the common area in front of the fireplace rather than sleeping in either of the dorms. This is a huge win for us. Now the only snoring I have to deal with is Pam’s and I know all I have to do is go pee to get her to stop.

We showered and then sat and talked with Peter and Alaina over beers until they headed to the big house for their supper. Pam and I were the only ones staying behind to cook our own dinner–pasta with butter and tomato sauce. I’ve been carrying this stuff for a couple of days and I chose to lose the two pounds out of my pack rather than have a healthy, decent meal. I have priorities and a lighter pack is number two (after a bear sighting).

I guess I should note that according to the crappy guidebook, which I have graciously agreed to quit criticizing out of respect for the dead, today should be the last day of our trip. 50 days on the GR10. How long is the GR10? 283 hours. See, it doesn’t make any sense to equate distance with time. I guess I do believe in beating dead horses (and writers).