Day 33–Tuesday, August 1. Pla de Castillon above Vielle-Aure (14 miles)

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.