tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-670908392024479748.post2198431417343040033..comments2024-03-26T21:10:39.866+00:00Comments on Postcard from Timperley: Pyrenees HRP - 2004 - Day 11Phreerunnerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08551842487502221703noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-670908392024479748.post-40640108924990329072019-08-01T10:43:02.498+01:002019-08-01T10:43:02.498+01:00Very good, Conrad, I'm delighted to see that y...Very good, Conrad, I'm delighted to see that you are enjoying this series of postings. Your route is described in Day 13 of our GR10 trip in 2013 - not quite as eventful as your day, but starting with a taxi ride from a Dakar Rally veteran:<br />https://phreerunner.blogspot.com/2013/06/thursday-27-june-2013-pyrenees-gr10-day.htmlPhreerunnerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08551842487502221703noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-670908392024479748.post-42738327894103584692019-08-01T10:16:32.033+01:002019-08-01T10:16:32.033+01:00I reckon you will have read my account of the day ...I reckon you will have read my account of the day I walked to Piere St Martin but as it was perhaps the most memorable day on the whole of my GR10 I can't resist showing the lengthy journal entry:<br /><br />Saturday 21st June<br />Day 10<br />Ste.-Engrâce to<br />Arêtte-la Pierre-St.Martin<br />Ascent 1185m - Descent 165m - 12.3 km<br />From Ste.-Engrâce my route entered gloomy woods following an ascending limestone gorge until there seemed to be no way out, but a steep path up the left hand wall provided a dramatic exit onto a heavily forested, steep hillside. After an hour from the gîte I heard panting behind and looking back saw Blair and his mate, the two dogs from the gîte. I tried to send them back, but they were just laughing at me and would have none of it. I had the phone number of the gîte, but there was no signal, so on I went.<br />An hour later I cleared the forest onto open hillside, “piste” on the map, despite lack of snow. Further on I came to a small cabane where some young lads and two older shepherds and their wives were working. I explained the dog problem and we tried the mobile again and it worked, so one of the shepherds spoke to the people at Ste.-Engrâce, It was decided that these people would look after the dogs until the owners could come to collect them – there was a roadhead nearby. The dogs were put in the back of the shepherd’s van and I sweated on up the rough zigzag track to the road and col. How the shepherds had managed to bring their van down this road I don’t know, but I would have shied at it with a Land Rover.<br />I pressed on to arrive at the devastating sight of Arêtte-la Pierre-St.-Martin. This is a ghastly modern, insensitive ski complex with high rise buildings and bulldozed roads looking like an abandoned moon station. The wilful desecration of this region is magnified by the contrasting beauty of two splendid adjacent mountains - Pic d’Anie and Pic Soum Couy.<br />The refuge was the first building of the complex perched on a rock balcony overlooking the mess.<br />Shortly after arriving, the guardian said there was a phone call for me from Ste. Engrâce. I was asked to detail where I had left the dogs. With the help of the guardian I conveyed this information. It seemed that they had not been able to locate the dogs, but I couldn’t grasp the finer details.<br />Later the young girl from Ste.-Engrâce turned up by car, and again asked me for details. I was able to show her the map which had the shepherd’s cabane marked on it; she was demonstrably upset and on the verge of tears, and walked off to her car with shoulders slumped. Although I didn’t believe this incident had been my fault I couldn’t help feeling bad about it.<br />By this time everybody in the refuge was familiar with the story of the dogs.<br />The two French guys, then the two Scots from St.-Engrâce arrived, and I had also been chatting to a New Zealander and his wife. This last couple were in their sixties, and the man, who looked a bit like Sean Connery, told me he participated in the equivalent of The Karrimore in New Zealand. These are competitive events involving mountain walking, canoeing, bike riding and possibly finishing off with a marathon. They said they were trekking through the Pyrenees, and they were carrying ridiculously heavy rucksacks, 26 kgs. he said, including enough food for two weeks! I later heard that they had run out of cash, expecting to get some from a cash machine in this location, but the complex was not operational in the summer. This guy told me he intended to get up early in the morning to climb Pic d’Anie which is a six hour round trip, and asked me if I would like to join him, but something told me it would be wise to decline.<br />In the midst of the meal the guardian entered and announced to everybody that she had heard by phone “Les chiens sont rétrouvés” !Sir Hughhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17908756392825206914noreply@blogger.com