Category: 2017 GR10

It may not have rained water last night, but it was raining men. Not too long after we went to bed, we heard a tremendous crash all around us. Pam buried herself under me, I knew she thought the sleeping platform was coming down on us. After the noise settled, I jumped up and turned on the lights–there on the floor was a man lying with his blanket and pillow on him and all of Pam’s items out of her basket.

He moaned a little and got up rubbing his head. He wouldn’t speak to anyone, he just left the room. We picked up all of Pam’s things and put them back in her basket on the shelf. We never did find out if he rolled out of bed on the second level (5′ off the floor) or if he fell off the ladder climbing down to go to the bathroom. He was gone for a long time before he returned.

Why is it that there is always one loud snorer in a room full of people? And why is it that he is always the first and fastest to fall asleep? Pam and Fred both had ear plugs so it didn’t bother them much, but I didn’t get a lot of sleep thanks to the buzz-saw.

Let me give a synopsis of the hiking day and then I’ll fill in the details later: I always like to find someone that I think I can keep up with if we come upon a group. When we left the Refuge, I spotted the young woman that I was going to pace myself on today. She was sitting on the side of the trail clearly annoyed at having to wait–she wanted to get going. She was carrying a pack that, by outward appearance, looked like a similar percentage of body weight to what I was carrying.

As she came to the first pass, we made eye contact. Pam, Fred, and I were taking a break. I could see the fire in her eyes. I knew that we were now in a hiking competition, to the death if necessary. She passed us, but her group stopped ahead long enough for us to pass them. We stopped and talked and I found out her name was Elke. We took off while they were still snacking. I could feel her eyes burning holes in the back of my head. I looked back and saw her glaring at me. This was getting real.

We leapfrogged back and forth over the next two passes. If became apparent that the contest was the first to the ski town up ahead. Plus, she was playing dirty, trying to distract us from walking and then would zoom ahead. When we came over the third pass, the trail had been rerouted with a huge drop and climb that wasn’t on any of our maps. I looked at her face and she was clearly defeated. We ran on by her to see her with her head hanging–she knew I had won.

As we got closer to the ski town, we kept running into a tour group that was slowing us down. Fred could sense my urgency so he blew on by them. When we got to the top of the ski slopes, I turned to see Elke was only a few hundred meters behind me. We turned it on as we headed down to the village, but she had a burst of energy seeing that she was so close to winning. In the end, it was Pam who slowed us down with her aching feet and hips. Elke passed us and beat us into town by less than 20 meters. Here’s a word of warning for you, Elke: if I see you on the trail again, “no holds barred.” I’m coming after you with everything I’ve got. That was the toughest little 9 year old girl I’ve ever met.

As we came out of the refuge after breakfast, I offered to take a photo of a family from the Netherlands. We started talking a bit and said we see each other down the trail. I didn’t think we would because we tend to hike so slow. They took off while we were still packing up.

As we came down from the lake to get back on the GR10–we saw the mother and daughter waiting on the trail; the boys had gone down the wrong trail and the dad dropped his pack to chase them down. The little girl kept pacing ahead with her mom trying to slow her down–she wanted to get her hike on.

We took our time climbing the first pass; an almost 1800′ gain. We took lots of pictures of the lakes, mountains, and even a helicopter running supplies up to the refuge we had stayed at last night. The boys passed us before the top. They look to be teenagers and in pretty good shape. Fred and I fell behind Pam a bit because we were talking. When we got to the top, we took our first break.

The parents and the little girl caught up with us while we were eating. The girl and I pretended to play airplane in the wind but she clearly was just trying to make me think she was an innocent little girl–I wasn’t buying the charade.

When we passed them again, she pretended to be interested in butterflies fluttering around my pack–she was diabolical. We stopped and talked for a bit before heading on. I looked back and she was ready to go. I told Pam to trip her the next time they try to pass us. Pam was no help. She only said I’m not getting involved in any of your testosterone games. What testosterone? She’s a 9 year old girl and I’m a 53 year old man–there’s no testosterone around this contest.

When we got to the third pass of the day, we started running into lots of people hiking up from the ski area. The people were very friendly and talkative to us today. There aren’t usually a lot of Americans in this part of the Pyrenees so they were interested in our hike. When we dropped down from the third pass, which was supposed to be our last climb for the day, we lost the trail at one junction because of a rerouting. I found the trail, but saw we had another huge drop and climb which none of us knew about. I passed Elke and her mom, Elaine, and they were both looking a little dejected. Elke was on the point of giving up.

We all kept going, but we lost sight of the Netherlands family. We got behind a group that kept stopping and talking. We’d pass them, then 10 minutes later, they’d all pass us again. It got old in a hurry. Fred pushed on by them and made them walk around him rather that step aside. They got the point and kept going then. Except, the delay allowed the Netherlands family to catch up with us again.

We were tired of this part of the trail by now and just wanted to get to Super Bagneres and take a break. When the whole family caught up with us, the dad, Peter, started playing dirty. He told Elke he’d buy her ice cream before they took the ski lift down. This sounds like doping to me which I thought was illegal in international competitions, but this was just the ticket Elke needed to run ahead of her two brothers, Lars and Tim.

After a couple of cokes, some French Fries, and a couple scoops of ice cream, I was ready for the final 4000′ drop into Bagneres-de-Luchon. The guidebook said it was going to be steeper than the 1300′ we had already dropped into the ski village. It was steep, but it was in a forest with lots of switchbacks. It was really a very pleasant walk. It only took us 2 & 1/2 hours to do what the book said would take 2 hours. We even got a nice surprise of a picnic table half way down where we could sit and take a break.

When we got to town, we had to find the campground where we were meeting Fred. Unfortunately, it was another 2 miles north of town. When we got there, we were in no mood to cook and saw a hamburger stand right inside of the camping area. We set up the tent then I jumped in the pool for my 3 for 1.

I went back up for our food and we had a picnic supper with Fred. He was eating healthy, organic foods while we were eating like typical Americans–hamburger, fries, and a Coke. I don’t know how stereotypes get started..

Nature did a great job of making sure I felt like I got my money’s worth for the auberge last night. Not too long after we went to bed, the storms started. At least 4 storm cells went through the area with nearly constant rain all night long. Pam was “restless” but I slept like a baby. She tossed and turned until she finally got up to go to the bathroom. I slid over to take her side of the bed since it was closer to the window and I was afraid she would close it. She confessed in the morning that she was thinking of closing the window when she came back from the bathroom.

We had signed up for a 7:30 breakfast with the idea of making it all the way to Bagneres-de-Luchon today–almost a 14 mile day if we pull it off. But when the alarm went off, it was still pouring outside. We had even heard hale through the night so we were already changing our minds about today’s destination.

We stayed in bed until 7:32 (ok, occasionally we do put stuff off until the last minute) but it worked out for the best. The rain stopped for our walk to the dining building. When we got in, we saw that Fred was also there for breakfast. We sat and talked with him and discussed plans for the day. He was able to find out from the woman in charge of the auberge that the weather for today was more of the same (fog, mist, and light rain during the day with a chance of more storms through the night). We briefly considered taking another day off, but knew if we did we wouldn’t be done with the trail by the time our Shengen time limit was up.

Fred was planning on going to the Refuge d’Espingo today and then making it into Bagneres tomorrow. Getting to Bagneres today doesn’t gain us anything because we need to do some shopping and with today being Sunday… After Bagneres, we will have a seven day stretch without having access to any shops for food (my back and feet are already aching at the thought of all the food we will be carrying). We asked Fred if we could walk with him as far as the refuge and then we would make our decision.

The trail up to Lac d’Oo was actually a nice wide track where we could walk next to each other and talk most of the way. As with most everyone we meet, Fred wondered what was happening in the USA that we would elect someone like Trump. We talked politics for a while (and held our heads in shame at what is happening in Washington), we also talked about why we like hiking, nature, movies, etc. The time flew by and we didn’t notice that we had climbed over 1000′ in about a mile.

Ahead was a bridge which crossed a creek to the Refuge d’Oo which had the promise of coffee, or we could keep going straight to Lac d’Espingo. We all agreed we had earned a break for our mile of effort (I don’t understand why we are taking so long to walk this trail). The day was a complete white-out so far from the heavy fog, so we were already leaning to staying around Espingo for the night in the hopes of getting some views tomorrow.

Here’s a benefit to being slow–by the time we got back on the trail from our break, the fog started breaking up a little so we could actually see that there was a lake below us. After about 15 minutes of walking, we could actually see the other side of the lake and all the waterfalls that fed it. Other than being famous for crossword puzzles (2 letter name of lake in France–“Oo”) it is a beautiful reservoir used for hydro-electric.

We’ve discovered that if we want to see real wildlife in the Pyrenees, we are going to have to get up early. I think we all realize we’re not going to see an Isard with that kind of requirement involved, so we are going to have to be satisfied with what’s at our feet and the occasional marmot. We happened upon a creature that Martha Johnson would be very interested in.

The fog came back with a vengeance. Arriving at Refuge d’Espingo, Fred enquired as to the weather conditions for the night and possible camping locations around the refuge. Rain is expected again tonight, but not with all the electrical storms we had last night. To camp, we were going to have to descend a couple hundred feet to the lake and then walk another 1/4 mile to the location where camping is allowed, OR, we could stay in the refuge where we can get supper, breakfast, and a bed. There was no doubt in my mind which choice Pam would take and I was leaning the same way.

It looks like we’re are going to be walking with Fred for the next 2-3 days since he is a rarity–a French hiker who is not a competitive hiker. He is willing to walk at our slow pace and we enjoy each other’s company. Every now and then, we see him start up the French routes around switchbacks (the vertical route), but he’s trying to slow down to our pace. We discovered that he had a small stroke a few years ago and his doctor is recommending that he slow down a bit, and we’re just the ticket for slowing people down. After Fos, he’s going to leave the GR10 and hike some loops staying closer to civilization at night joining the trail again in another week or so.

We actually stopped hiking around 2 today. The second earliest time of this trip (it’s going to be hard to stop any earlier than we did in Vielle-Aure (8a) when most days we don’t start hiking until well after 9. This is our first refuge where we are sleeping with the masses. It’s quite different than we expected. Our room has three levels of bunks with 5 people on each level sleeping shoulder to shoulder–think AT shelter with mattresses. I let Pam have the corner (so I can squish her up against the wall and get more space–she’s not the least bit claustrophobic). It’s also behind the ladder so if I took it, she knows I’d have to climb over her every time I get up in the night. I only have to walk the length of the building, then downstairs to the bathroom…

OK, I’ll own this one for the low mileage today. I didn’t write yesterday’s blog entry until this morning (mainly because Pam drugged me with Vitamin I and melatonin on top of 2 beers–the poor man’s rufie combination). I got up and headed in the gite about 7. Pam came in around 8, and that’s where she drug me into her crime world.

Since it was getting late, we decided to eat at the gite. We went into the dining area and they said to go ahead and eat and we could figure out who to pay later. The problem was that no employees were around later, so we ended up with a free breakfast (it was only bread, jam, and coffee–nothing really substantial). While Pam was behind the bar looking for food, she spied the salt and pepper shakers. She brought a pair over, threw the pepper shaker at me with a pill pouch and said “Pour it in or die.” I truly feared for my life.

When I got done pouring it in the bag, she yelled at me “Why didn’t you pour more in?” I can only pour in what you steal, next time steal a full shaker. She went behind the bar and came back with a full baggie of the dark stuff. She then asked me if she needed to label the salt or could I tell it from the other white powder she’s making me carry–I swear on the Bible, I’m only a mule. When they track us down with all the loot she’s been “sticky fingering” I’ll need witnesses. The real reason my pack is so heavy is all the hotel towels she’s stuffed in it!

By the time we left the gite, it was only 9:30, but still very foggy. Since we hadn’t paid for breakfast, we stopped at another cafe at the other end of the village for a cafe-au-lait. I prayed she had gotten her clepto fix for the day and we didn’t end up with another 10 sugars and a roll of tp. Thankfully, she was satisfied with just taking pictures. I feel like Bonnie and Clyde on a run across the country.

I’ve discovered another reason to not like the author of our guidebook; actually two. 1) He recommends taking a taxi (TAKING A TAXI) for the road sections when the GR10 actually enters the wilderness for a couple of 5 day stretches rather than actually carrying food, tent, and stove. And 2) He picks major points and then draws the elevation profile as a straight line between those points.

We were expecting a nice easy walk out of town with a 650′ gain over the course of 4 miles. What we got was a 400′ gain in 100 yards followed by a relatively level walk for a couple of miles and then another steep climb at the end. Not that it was that bad, but I like accuracy and truth–a problem I am having with the current administration as well as the guidebook.

We stopped for lunch before the really steep climb started–2000′ in less than a mile and a half. We did it in less than 2 hours including breaks. We are getting a little stronger. We started out below the clouds and climbed into a mist. By the time we got to the pass, we were in full fog with less than 50′ visibility. I can kick myself for yesterday’s post about our fog curse being over.

We climbed down 3500′ in what started as a drizzle, but kept increasing to a full rain. It was only 3 miles, but it zapped us with the steepness and rain. We were originally planning to go 10 miles today to Lac d’Oo, but we couldn’t see the point in hiking another 2 miles in the rain and fog, so we decided to stay at a gite and get out of the rain.

Yesterday in Germ, we met a nice guy from Paris who is about our age. Tonight before supper, we ran into him again and had beers together. I will remember to get his name and take a picture of him tomorrow. He is feeling the effects of age on his hiking and can tell a difference in the last couple of years. He’s 57, just a couple years older than Pam. I felt like a babe sitting at the table with both of them.

There were only 8 of us at supper: 3 French couples and us. This was one of the most uncomfortable experiences we have ever had. We could pick up a few place names from the discussion but no one tried to include us. The little bit of French I know didn’t give me enough comfort to join the conversation, so Pam and I ordered another beer to help pass the time. Someone farted at the table (an SBD–silent but deadly); I’m sure whoever did it, tried to blame the Americans and their beer.

This is not a good place to hang out if you are a germaphobe–but it is a pleasant surprise for us to be here. We kept pace with the guidebook today since it was a relatively easy day–2500′ up, 2200′ down, and 1500′ up over an easy 8 mile stretch.

But this was a momentous day for us for an unrelated reason to hiking a full itinerary day (we actually have done this several times already on this trail). Today, we passed the 1000 miles of official trail hiking. We have actually hiked many more miles than that, but we have “officially” carried full back packs for 1000 miles of trail–186 miles on the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path in Wales, 575 miles on the Camino Francais from St Jean to Santiago to Muxia to Fisterra, and 246 on the GR10 for 1007 miles so far.

But more impressive than hiking 1000 miles was that Pam did not complain even once today. Granted, she didn’t talk much because she’s mad at me, but silence is silence and a day without complaints is a milestone.

We got up at 7:28 because we had breakfast at 7:30 (we don’t like to wait until the last minute to do things). It’s become apparent to me that my wife had a little clepto streak in her–she regularly steals toilet paper wherever we go. This morning, she stole some honey, a nectarine, and some jelly for the peanut butter (I actually placed the jelly in front of her, but it was her pockets that were stuffed). I drew the line when she tried to steal the salt and pepper last night, but she’s working out a plan to fill pill packets to pull off this caper.

Since we had them, we decided to take another shower before hitting the trail. We got going at about 9:15. By 9:30, it was no longer apparent that we had showered within the last week. Today was one of the hotter days we had hiked. I was sweating like a stuck pig (whatever a stuck pig is; I’m not even sure if pigs sweat).

As we were climbing out of the second town we went through in the valley, I found a hat on the side of the trail. I was just going to hang it on a fence post but Pam said we should carry it with us. Someone ahead of us must have dropped it and they would definitely want it today. Not even 10 minutes later, we met a Belgium man walking our direction stopped to talk to some hikers that had just passed us (it’s was a steep uphill and our packs our heavy, so of course we’re going to get passed). When we approached them, we asked if anyone had lost a hat. The Belgium man had backtracked for 30 minutes trying to find it. Needless to say, he really wanted his hat back–if I drop something and it falls behind Pam on the trail, I consider it gone and enjoy the reduced pack weight. He was very thankful and walked with us for a few minutes until he realized how slow we go. He had started the trail July 4, just a few days after us, but he had taken a week off because of bad feet. He wants to get half way by this weekend and then complete the hike next year.

The trail wasn’t bad today, just a tad steep in places (mainly the uphill and downhill sections from beginning to end), but other than that, very pleasant walking. Our estimation of doubling the guidebook estimated times seems to working out for us. But remember, we take lots of breaks, stop in bars for drinks (cokes only on the trail), take lots of pictures, and soak feet in suitable streams or lakes. We checked our actual walking time on our in reach and it was just 5 hours and 15 minutes compared to the book estimate of 4 hours and 30 minutes. Our trip time, however, was almost 10 hours. If only we didn’t need to breath while walking, we could go much faster.

Nearing the Courbet de Latuhe (the pass we had to go over today) we saw a group of French people hanging out on a small deck behind a cabin having a party. The trail was directly above them, so we couldn’t help but observe and hear them. They had several musical instruments and lots of food. It was going to be a great time when it got started. The only person playing was the upright bass player. He had a nice line going that stuck in my head for the rest of the climb to the pass.

At the pass, we nearly got run off of the road by a fire truck and ambulance. A few minutes later, a helicopter started circling. We could see a lot of paragliders overhead and thought maybe someone had crashed into the mountain. But after two vans carrying more passengers passed us unconcerned, we figured maybe some non-French person must have had a heart attack while climbing. We hope whatever happened, everyone is alright.

Paragliding–the sport that proved to me I don’t need to consume alcohol to get dry heaves. When I was in Nepal, I thought this would be a great experience for me. I knew that I was afraid of heights then, just not how terrified I really am. Running off of the side of a mountain is not a normal gesture for me, but when we got airborne, I white-knuckled the harness the entire time. My French guide tried to get me to let go and look around. When I looked down, I started dry heaving. He said don’t throw up while we are over people’s houses. (That would be a terrible feeling to be sitting quietly by your pool and then get drenched in vomit from above. I’m sure that would be a major religious experience to have god throw up on you, but major life changes would surely follow). By the time we landed, I had no strength in my legs and collapsed like a noodle. Seeing the gliders brought back lots of fond memories.

The way down to town was much easier than we were anticipating. The trail builders in this area have successful installed switchbacks. At every turning point, though, are two trails–the switchback and a trail runnning straight down. The French hiker does not like switchbacks! Why increase the distance you have to travel when you can run straight up or down. They won’t use them. If you encounter a person on a switchback, they are not French. It’s a good way to pick out fellow foreigners on the trail.

Another way to tell if someone is not French is if they are carrying a bike up a trail. We met a man coming up doing just that. Where we met him, the trail was actually not too steep. We told him he might want to reconsider climbing if he’s already carrying his bike because the trail gets pretty steep (even with switchbacks). He was a Dutch man. We talked about the competitiveness of the French and their remarkable physical training. When we left him, I think he didn’t believe us about the trail. 10 minutes later, he passed us riding his bike back down.

In the bottom of this valley was another charming mountain village–Loudenvielle. This was a hoppping little place. They are having a music festival starting tonight. Tonight’s line up include 4 former contestants from “The Voice” (a show I was forced to watch once for an entire season). We stopped for ice cream and cold drinks before beginning our final ascent into Germ.

It’s only 2K to Germ, how hard can it be? Pretty damn hard. We climbed 1500′ in a mile and a quarter. Fortunately, there was plenty of shade to cool off in on the way up. When we got to the top, we heard music–very religious sounding music. We checked to make sure we both hadn’t had heart attacks and died. As we got closer to the church, the music got louder. We saw people sitting outside listening so we felt much better knowing we were still alive and had arrived in Germ.

The gite in town allows bivouacs and has a swimming pool. We set up the tent and jumped in the pool to do our 3 for 1 (cool off, laundry, and bathe simultaneously). Within 5 minutes of us jumping in, we had the pool to ourselves–everyone was so considerate and could see we needed some alone time.

Why is my pack so heavy? From going grocery shopping on an empty stomach. With all the food we are carrying, what do we do for supper–go to the bistro right next to the gite. The food was fantastic. We were just going to check, but when I saw curry on the menu, we were staying for food and beer.

There was live music at 10, but there was no way we could stay awake that late on a hiking night. We went to bed right after eating and it was already 9. When the music started, Pam woke up to put in her ear plugs–too much bass. I was actually relieved that I could finally replace the riff I heard on the way up to the pass with something new.

A nearo didn’t cut it. When the alarm went off for breakfast, Pam said “I either need another day off or we have to find a doctor to give me pain pills.” I didn’t want to anger her because she had control of the snooze button, so I agreed if we could still get up and eat since we already paid for breakfast.

After breakfast, Pam went back to bed and I went in search of a few more items we needed–ibuprofen, cash, and, our fruitless search for peanut butter. I walked about a mile to the next village; St Lary (pronounced saint “la ree”). I was going to go to the tourist information center in town, but came to a pharmacy first and got the ibuprofen. Right next to the tourist information was a bank, so I got some cash and didn’t even have to stop in for help.

I wandered around town for a bit. There was a lot more here than in our village, so I decided to check out some grocery stores. First stop and I found the Holy Grail–PEANUT BUTTER. We’ve been looking in every epicure for the last month and never could find anything other than Nutella. I decided to reward myself with a stroll through the national park office and then another cup of coffee with a chocolate croissant.

By now, it was after 11, so hopefully Pam is thinking about waking up, so I headed back along the path beside the stream running through the valley. When I got there, Pam was awake, but confused. The cleaning girl had come into the room and Pam tried to tell her we wanted to stay another night–she doesn’t speak any English (the cleaning girl, Pam IS picking it up) and all she kept saying was “No, No, No”. Pam didn’t know what she meant and thought we might have to leave.

We tried to find someone who spoke English, but there wasn’t anyone around. I think the girl was afraid because she had come in our room while we were still there. After a few hours, we found the owner and tried to pay, He told me to just relax and we could pay later. In the mean time, Pam was taking another nap, and I was brushing up on one of my favorite pastimes.

Eventually, Pam was awake enough to want to eat. We headed back to St Lary and tried to find some food–not an easy thing to do in the middle of the afternoon. We had to settle for banana splits to hold us over until dinner.

All in all, a boring but restful day.

Remember the winds that lifted us up the trail yesterday? That was just a pass away and a few thousand feet higher, but they returned–with a vengeance. At 3a, just after I had made my first trip out for other reasons, they decided to make themselves known. How did they do that? By blowing the tent down–on Pam’s side.

This just started a cascade of stakes coming free. I got back out and tried to anchor everything again. I was able to stabilize the tent by adding more rocks at all the corners and doors, but I was running out of rocks of significant size. I called it stable and went back to bed.

15 minutes later, my side of the tent collapsed. I looked out and the winds had flipped (I’m not kidding here) a 50# rock that was holding my door up. I wanted my side to be solid. This was just the beginning of a nightmare of sleeplessness that went on until PAM finally said “Let’s just get up and hike.” She was tired of laying with the tent on her face. We think we may have gotten a total of 3 hours of sleep.

We were all packed up and ready to go at the respectable “Pete time” of 5:30 but it was too dark for us to risk hiking down the steep grade into Vielle-Aure so we found a rock alcove and had a little breakfast.

When the sun finally decided to join our day, we set off down the trail at 6:30ish. We were in town by 8. The tourist information office doesn’t open until 9 so what would be your first stop?

Next we had a little more breakfast and coffee thinking that we wouldn’t be able to get into a hotel or gite until early afternoon. When the tourist office opened, we were first in the door. We got the location of a hotel, grocery store, and laundromat. We were going to be productive until we could get into a room.

As luck would have it, we got into a room by 9. We showered and then I started laundry while Pam took the first of many naps today.

I tried to wake her up, but was unsuccessful in my attempt, so I took a nap as well. We finally got up mid afternoon, driven by hunger. This is where we made mistake number 1–never go shopping when you are hungry. My pack had just gotten down to a good weight and now I’ll be overwhelmed again tomorrow when we leave town. We did by some snacks to munch on until supper time this evening.

The rest of the day was just a that–a lazy day. We got caught up on blogging and emails. I was surprised by the number of friends wishing for me to keep hiking the GR10 and stay in Europe. I don’t know if it’s wishing me good fortune or thankfulness that I’m gone. Only Sarah told me that our old place was vacant and we could move back in.

I really want to thank Axel and Heike for the encouragement and support.  We miss them a lot since they left the trail.  Axel had a lot of great suggestions for weight reduction which we are going to start implementing.  I did point out to him that I used to weigh almost 280#–I felt terrible the first time I weighed 250# and great the second time.  That philosophy works with pack weights, too.  A 40# pack doesn’t feel to bad after carrying a 50# one.

Just a beer, dinner, and packing and then we’re all ready for tomorrow to make more trail progress.

Yes, there were ups and downs. Yes, there was rain in the night. Yes, we are carrying too much weight. Yes, we are idiots for coming to a foreign country and not speaking any of the language. Yes, the views were amazing. Yes, the trail was crowded with people (not Camino crowds, but on a Tuesday!). Yes, the trail was pleasant walking. Yes, we are having an amazing time.

We got up after the rain and backtracked back to where we left the GR10 last night so we could bivouac. We skipped the bathroom at the bus stop because, well, because it was disgusting and crowded. It’s hard to make power drops with a line waiting outside. Pam wouldn’t even go in, but she is a Wal-mart girl, so she’ll be fine.

The first part of the trail only involved a minor climb of a couple hundred feet before we dropped 1500′ down to a beautiful man-made hydro-electric lake. The French (like the Spanish) are way ahead of us on alternative energy sources. The Pyrenees are awash with hydro-electric generators (even more than ski areas). Not every hydro-electric power source involves massive dams and flooded reservoirs–little villages have harnessed just a single stream, ran in through a pipe down to the generator, and release the water below town. Some villages we’re going through didn’t even have power until the 1960s.

These last few days have actually been the kind of experience we were hoping for–the trail designers screwed up and took us up into the high Pyrenees and left us there a couple of days. If we have less than 1500′ of climbing, that is the equivalent of level.

I’ve misrepresented the guide (but I still don’t like the writer, and it is personal). For the French hiker (and the young, in-shape, healthy 20-30 year old), this is a very doable itinerary. I want to return to a subject I’ve talked about a few times–the French hiker.

The French do pride themselves on their agility, speed, and endurance as outdoorsmen. I want to give a few examples (other than the two year old that passed us on the trail–he wasn’t carrying a pack, so I have no respect for him. I even saw his dad carrying him 1/2 mile later).

While coming down from the highest point on the GR10, yesterday, an elderly couple passed us up. When I say elderly, they were in their 80’s. She was using walking sticks (something the French don’t regularly do) but she was using them to jump down the trail. She’d put both poles in front of her and then swing her whole body down, land on her feet, poles forward again. She was running down the trail like a slinky at 80+ years of age. She smiled as she bounced passed us. We quickly lost sight of her.

Today, we met a couple in their 70s that asked how long we were hiking. We told them the whole trail, but we are slow. She said she understood–she and her husband hiked it again just 4 years ago and it took them 45 days. She didn’t say if they camped then, but they were carrying camping gear this time.

I’m sure these are people that live in the mountains and have their whole lives. They are in phenomenal shape. Another advantage they have is that they live here full time. I have yet to see a French thru-hiker take a picture. The mountains are here, they live here, they’ll see it again.

Pam and I stop to take lots of pictures. If we see a nice mountain lake that we’d like to camp at, we camp at it. When we get to a charming village, we explore it. We take lots of breaks and admire the views. We soak our feet in the streams–I’ve never seen a French person do that. We are doing all these things (to stop from hyperventilating) because we will probably never be back through these mountains again in our lives and we want to live to savor the experience.

After we napped at Lac de Bastan, we decided to move on and get at least the next climb out of the way. Pam was groggy after our break, but she soldiered on. After climbing 1000′ or so, we came across a stream. We stopped because I was very thirsty and was suspecting that Pam might be a little dehydrated. She is eating better now that I’ve shamed her in this format, but she still doesn’t drink enough because she doesn’t want to get up in the middle of the night. I don’t see why she doesn’t–she says I wake her up every time I get up, she might as well join me and star watch.

I had some left over mineral salt packets that I purchased after my–ahem, “stomach episode” in Spain. I mixed a packet of those in with our sports drink mix. We each drank a liter of souped-up water. 20 minutes later we were literally flying down the trail. This had nothing to do with the water, the winds were so strong at the pass that they were blowing us uphill, but we were feeling great and this can be traced to the water mix.

Would you believe we walked through another ski area? This thing was massive. It covered both sides of a pass with at least 40-50 runs that I could recognize. The road going up to it actually went under a tunnel so one of the runs could go much lower. We spent a couple of hours just walking across the area. It looked like it was still under construction/expansion. And down the valley on an opposite slope? Another ski resort!

After leaving the ski area, we still had about 5 miles to town, but we thought we would stop at a stream along the way and camp. Wrong, no streams and all open ridge top walking. We were always the highest thing around (unless one cow was trying to mount another cow–a dominance thing? They both had udders).

We walked until we finally started dropping (good thing) but still couldn’t find water (bad thing). About three miles further than we had planned to hike (and about 3000′ lower), we final found a water source. Not much of one. It was a pipe coming out of the mountain into a cattle trough dripping water at the rate of a liter every two minutes, but it was water. We were on a dead end drive at the trough.

Now that we had water, we had options. For one, we now had the option to eat. Since it was almost 9, I really liked this option. We set up the tent on the road. Remember, Z-Packs tents are not free standing. We used rocks to hold our tent stakes on the ground (cannot drive stakes into compacted gravel). As long as it doesn’t storm, we’ll be fine.

We ate and went to bed with the sounds of an American cover band playing in the country club a mere 2000′ below. The music played until midnight, but we were fed, medicated, and feeling relaxed after a great day of walking.

OK, I accept it. It’s not the guidebook or the trail. It’s us. We are old and feeble. Let’s face it, Pam is almost 55 (I’m only 53). Jessica is way past half way; she’s doing the trail and pretty much on schedule. This just proves the point that we were right to take off when we did. If we had waited any longer, we wouldn’t be able to do this. As it is, we’ve probably lost Corsica for this year. We’ll pick up another trail in England to get some more miles.

The storm wasn’t that bad. I fell asleep before it was over. After it stopped raining, I woke back up to visit the outdoors again while it was still light. I vaguely remember another visit when the stars were bright. Other than that, I slept very peacefully as long as Pam didn’t have to change positions. I think she intentionally kicks to make sure I’m awake.

We were awoke by hikers already heading up to Col de la Madamete. We figured we had about 2600′ to still go so we got up and hit the trail as soon as we ate and got packed up.

The valley we walked up was simply amazing. It wasn’t a steep climb, but a gentle incline up to where the valley narrowed to a point you had to climb just a little to get up to the next plateau. When you got up, you were in the mouth of another valley. You would walk up it until in narrowed and you had to climb up to…another valley. We did this about three times until we got to Cabane d’Aygues at about 6500′.

Here’s another reason to not like the writer of the guidebook. He said this was a place suitable for emergency use–this was camping central in the mountains. We had been passed by people all day thinking they were heading to the pass when they were probably heading here. There were several tents set up with a nice mountain lake behind the shelter. People were swimming in the lake and climbing trails in every direction–and this was a Monday. There must have been 50 people of all ages here.

After soaking our feet, hating to pass up a nice lake, we continued our climb up to the pass. We still had a little over a thousand feet to climb. Maybe we are getting a little stronger, because the hike didn’t seem too terrible today. Granted, we move slower than anyone else on the trail (even a two year old passed us today, but the little brat didn’t even have a pack on).

People were passing us, but not burying us in their dust like before. We actually caught up with and passed people who passed us. But then they’d pass us again and show us the truth. As we climbed, we started seeing more lakes. There must have been 8 more lakes before we made the pass. We didn’t soak our feet in any of them, but we did take time for a Snickers break.

After the pass, there were more lakes. We could see brown patches in the rocks that must normally be snow packs. Since we did make the pass in a reasonable amount of time (less than double the quoted times in the book) we decided to reward ourselves with another foot soaking (actually, it was mandatory to keep us going).

We only dropped about 1000′ from the pass and we decided we were done for the day. We found a nice bivouac area below a dam and decided to call it a day. We set up camp, filtered water, cooked supper, and finished the day with meds to keep us going another day.

The farmer never showed. We tried to get up early, but it was raining so we waited for it to stop. 15 minutes later, the sun was out, so we started to move a bit and then the fog rolled in. Next a drizzle, followed by the sun, then some fog, then the fog lifted and it was just overcast. While we were eating, it started to rain while the sun was shining (and no clouds overhead–I still don’t know where it was coming from unless the farmer was on the other side of the barn messing with us). The weather is more schizophrenic than Sybil.

We got packed up and went to the town center to leave our impression of the welcome we received last night. They were setting up for an all day music festival hoping to get lots of outsiders to come spend money, but not us. The cafe was closed when we tried. We just left town as quickly as we could.

Had we had the energy (or the mental capacity) to continue last night, after about a 30 minute climb, we came to a crepe shop/cafe at the pass before Bareges. This was a prefect location–views in all directions (when the fog lifted for the third time). We had some coffees and talked with the college guy that was working there. He lives two villages down hill and walks to work in about 15 minutes (which we spent the better part of two hours doing).

We are going to finish the GR10 no matter how much bitching and complaining we do. We’re going to try to be more positive in our outlooks (at least I am, I have no control or influence over Pam no matter what certain people think). We looked more in depth at the guidebook (something we probably should have done before committing to the trail) and found a few days that looked reasonable and doable for us. We’ve just learned that we are not in that great of shape even with doing 750 miles of walking before this trail. We are getting stronger albeit at a slower rate than we would like. Crossfit teaches me that we will start seeing true gains in about 6 weeks after starting an activity. We have been hiking this trail for 4 weeks, but we are older, so double the 6 weeks and you get 12. We should complete the trail in 11 weeks, so we wont actually see any gains–crap.

The trail down from the pass to Bareges was the type we really like–not to steep, not too rocky, just right. We were stretching our legs and feeling good about our speed and progress–then a runner passed us, then another, and then 10 more. Sers was having a trail run in conjunction with the music festival. The guys were in great shape and running to Bareges–great for them. What really bothered me is that 15 minutes later they passed us again. It was a round trip run and they were going there and back in less time than we could walk 1/4 of the way.

Bareges was another cute oversized village with a ski town feel about it. We lounged around and ate lunch before heading on. This is when we discovered our positivity didn’t last very long. The GR10 has been rerouted so it didn’t agree with the guidebook or map we were carrying. Pam just kept on going while I wanted to study things out so we wouldn’t have to backtrack again. Long story short, big argument. Pam was vindicated in that this was the correct trail.

A couple hours later, we had the same thing and Pam wanted to continue on. This time, the trail we were on was the wrong one after we studied things a bit. It makes sense to slow down and make sure you’re right before plowing on–engineer in me (and laziness because of my pack weight).

We ended up breaking up our big climb in half. We did about 1600′ today and we’ll do the other 2600′ in the morning. We are going to pass over the highest point on the trail tomorrow (8300′ pass) and we’d like some views, please.

We found a great spot in a corner of the valley. We’re in a slight depression so we have some wind protection. The big win is the stream below our tent. When we picked the site, there were about 30 people hanging out above us so we were (I was) reluctant to set up the tent. Bivouacs are allowed, but everyone seems to think you should go to a refuge and pay–they just don’t get the way we camp and hike and I didn’t want questions in a language I can’t speak.

Instead, we went and soaked our feet in the stream and rinsed out our clothes. This was the coldest water I’ve felt in quite a while. I tried to leave my feet in while rinsing my clothes, but it felt like an electric shock going through my feet.

Everyone eventually left and then the weather started it’s schizophrenia again. Just typing this entry, we’ve had fog, rain, blue skies, rain, fog, and, god help me, thunder in the distance. Pam already has her head buried under the quilt.

Another reason I don’t like the author of our guidebook–he tells us we’re going to have an easy day and then all the BS we went through this afternoon, but I’m getting ahead of myself…

The campground was actually the most level spot we have had all trip; and the best night’s sleep in the tent for me (except for when Pam changes position–she makes sure to let me know she’s uncomfortable). We got woke up at 6:30 compliments of our neighbors who were going on a day hike. Since they had the most elaborate setup, they felt their plans outweighed everyone else’s desire to sleep. We did try to go back to sleep for a bit but ended up getting up before 7:30–another early day for us.

We were on the trail by 9:20 after saying our goodbyes to the staff. They work their butts off at this campground, and it shows. These two women were there when we went to bed and there when we got up. They made sure everything was great for us.

We had two choices for walking into Luz: a 40 minute road walk (boring) or a 5 mile walk through the woods that took us well past town before nosediving into the center of town. We chose the longer route and were very glad we did.

The trail was a very pleasant walk in the woods and almost all a gentle downhill/. The reason it went so far past town was to show us a really interesting waterfall, and to take us over a bridge that Napoleon visited and dedicated as a monument in 1863. It was hundreds of feet above the river and is a remarkable engineering work for its time.

From Napoleon’s bridge, we followed his promenade route all the way into town. There is a fortified Knight’s Templar church in the middle of town. Luz used to be a major pilgrim route for St James. There is still a pilgrim route through the town, but it’s not one of the most popular routes.

We got into town around noon, so rather than eat some of the weight off my back, we decided to get a burger and fries–I’m always fine with getting more protein when it’s available. By the time we got done with lunch it was almost 2p and really hot. The consensus was we didn’t want to walk in the heat, so we killed a few more hours in town at the visitor’s center, grocery shopping (I guess there’s always room for a few more pounds on my shoulders), and locating ice cream.

We retraced our steps back to the edge of town and proceeded to climb the steep trail out of town that is the GR10. After climbing about 650m (at least that’s what it felt like, it was probably only about 150′) we got an unexpected notice–the GR10 is closed for 4 months because of logging. Take the alternate route through Luz town center. They could have posted this notice down below where the trail decision point is made rather than 1/2 mile uphill from the decision point. We had to retrace our steps–I was livid.

Since we entered the valley containing Cauterets, the markings on the trail have had some piss poor implementations. Coming through the abandoned ski area yesterday, they were almost nonexistent. Even today, on the way into town, there were several points of confusion. The guidebook isn’t really much help in these instances because the maps aren’t to scale (another reason to dislike the author–plus a few wise cracks about no need to carry a tent on the GR10, you can always tell who is carrying camping gear because they walk at a snail’s pace).

Back to the visitor’s center to get updated trail info. They were very friendly and helpful, but couldn’t grasp what I was saying about post the closure lower to help prevent people from having to backtrack. The reroute involved a couple of K of road walking. This is where I discovered France has its own version of rednecks. Several cars drove by with people yelling derogatory remarks to us (at least I assumed they were derogatory since they drove by at 50 mph and Americans would yell trash to hikers on the highway in similar circumstances).

By the time we made it through the second village on the reroute, I was trashed. I couldn’t walk more than 10 steps without stopping to catch my breath and wiping the sweat off my face–this is where Pam became hike leader. She talked me back down from my rage (which was only growing in the heat) and kept us moving forward. We decided to look for accommodations, but there weren’t any vacancies because of the weekend.

This is the first time we both vocalized our discontent with the trail and talked about quitting this one. We now know why so few people actually thru-hike this trail every year (less than 100/year), this trail is not designed for thru-hiking. The guidebook is really a series of 50 day hikes. It’s a great trail for section hiking–but climbing up and down 4000′ every day gets old. Take us up and let us stay up a few days.

By the time we got to Sers, we had given up trying to find a level spot for camping. We were resigned to a gite–except they were all full here as well. After trying to find a place in town, or above town, or after town, we just gave up and decided we were going to camp illegally on someone’s property and hope to not get caught.

We found a spot next to a barn heading into town. We are on the backside facing the valley where people in town can’t see us. It’s really a nice spot. I had to walk into town to get water and we’ll head through town again in the morning to leave a load in their WC to express our thoughts on the welcome and help we received.

Since we both have broached the subject of quitting this trail, there will be more discussions in the following days. This trail is wearing on us physically and mentally. We won’t make a final decision until we are at least halfway done in a few more days. I hate to quit, but this trail design has gotten to the point where we are no longer having fun and are just dreading each day.