Author: Dragon

Today went really well.

I woke up at my campsite at 2,300m to a great sunrise over the Mediterranean sea.

There was an 8km stretch of trail on the almost-level Tour du Canigo trail, which rode around the Canigou massif to its easternmost point, where I joined another trail for 16km along a ridge line going down towards the town of Amelie-les-bains.

On the way down, I watched a massive thunderstorm form in the mountains I had just left. I thought I might stay just on the outskirts of it, but it grew towards me and ended up raining all the way down to town.

I’ll take the rain over heat anyday. These last few days are supposed to be brutally hot due to the low elevation and the location. If I can have comfortable temperatures but get a little wet for one of the days, I’m all about it.

When I made it into town, I immediately hit a little convenience store and got a days worth of provisions, plus some comfort foods (beer, OJ, yogurt, coke, sausage) which I finished off in town, while saving the beer and sausage for dinner.

Then I hung out around the office of tourism for an hour waiting for the rain to end. They had wifi, so I was able to catch up on life while there.

Around 5pm, I headed out of town, happy to make use of the overcast skies and nice hiking temperatures. It wasn’t raining anymore, but with the humidity, it might as well have been!

The trail slowly climbed through a beautiful forest wilderness, riding a ridge up towards the Rock of France, a 1,450m high rock with nice views all around.

I stopped around 1,000m elevation at about 8:30. Having made 33km and seeing the rain moving in for another blow, I thought it a fine time to pitch the tent. I found a nice clearing up on the ridge with views of the sunset, of the Canigou massif, and of the Mediterranean coast down below.

The sausage and beer was a real treat! Yum! I happily enjoyed it inside my nice dry tent as the rain began again.

Just another couple of days to the end point of the HRP, so exciting! Can’t wait to have this adventure in the bag and be on to the next one. What a journey it has been!

Good night!

I awoke with the sun peering into my tent, warming it up after a cold night so I could quickly pack up and hit the road.

There was another 12km of ridge and plateau walking before the climbs of the day. I stopped and had coffee and admired the world class valley below.

I had again decided to burn my guidebook and take another long, unmarked ridge walk, when it directed you to go way down off the ridge to a refuge for the night. As if!

This area, around Pic Canigou (2,780m), is the last high elevation section of the Pyrénées, before an easy walk through the foothills to the Mediterranean. I was gonna soak up every bit of high elevation I could get today.

So I started up the ridge walk, which was well marked up to a point.

There were many sections along rocky spines, where foot placement on every step was critical. I was planning to avoid Pic Canigou entirely, as I don’t like going to super touristed places. I always end up having to pass everyone because of how fast I hike, and it just feels awkward. Plus I have to say hello to someone like every 30 seconds as everyone is going to climb the mountain! I almost fell on my face once, during that brief lapse of concentration when you look up to acknowledge someone’s presence as they’re coming towards you. It just feels weird and forced and that’s why I like to avoid those places! That’s why I go to the most remote mountains, hah.

So this ridge walk was supposed to take me right past the mountain, but the trail petered out about halfways through! Oh well. I got to hike down to some nice glacial lakes and make a second lunch. The lines on the map are lies sometimes. Some arm chair hiker musta drawn that trail. Figures.

I took the trail that goes up to Pic Canigou, but I took an alternate ridge trail that cuts off the peak. I had the whole trail to myself, although it seemed that all I had to enjoy was the fog that had rolled in. Good thing I didn’t go for the peak.

Then, after hiking down the ridge a ways, I came below the fog, and what I saw out in front of me brought me the most excitement of this whole trip!

It was the Mediterranean sea! I could see it from my vantage point on the ridge trail. That’s what I’ve been hiking towards for 38 days, and now I finally see it for the first time! It was an exceptional moment.

After going down a ways, I picked up the Tour du Canigo trail, which makes a big circle around the Canigou region. It was the perfect way to end the day. Sweeping views of the Mediterranean, a nice level ridge trail, ahhh, I might cry.

And when I thought I would have to drop down a ways to find water for dinner, a huge tank of water appeared right in front of me! I was jubilant!

The trail provides.

Now I knew I could spend one last night of high elevation up on this ridge, and have a badass sunrise over the Mediterranean in the morning.

I found a (semi) flat area for the tent, with a perfect view out over the town of Perpignan and the sea.

What a spectacular finish to this trail! I wasn’t expecting to see the sea today at all. What a treat! Good night!

Wow. I’ve been looking forward to today for a while.

Starting from the valley of Eyne, I climbed up 400m to the frontier ridge, which makes up the border of France and Spain.

Then I hiked along that ridge 20km, almost all day! I met one of the HRP thru-hikers who I saw 20 days ago, who was interested in the CDT patch on my backpack. We talked for a bit when I caught up to him on one of the peaks. He had carried a soft drink up from town, and I was super jealous. He said he doesn’t do any drugs, except Coca-cola. Hah! Then I told him I’d see him at the Mediterranean and continued on.

I came to a place on the ridge where the guidebook wants you to go down in a valley to a refuge. However, I could see on my maps that there was definitely a kind of route that follows the frontier ridge on the north side of that valley.

So, I decided to throw my guidebook in the fire and keep on the frontier ridge. It was a risky decision, not knowing what I may encounter on this route, but I felt confident I could handle it. And what a route it was! It reminded me of the Argentine spine section of the CDT. There were a few sections that were a little sketchy, requiring the use of hands and climbing up boulder/screefields, but all in all nothing too bad.

I was going to follow the ridge all the way, but I accidentally went down to the wrong col from the last high peak I had climbed up!

Oh well. I laid there in the grass at the col and let my legs rest for half an hour. The alternate route had really worn me out with all the ups and downs.

I took the GR11 trail down to a refuge, and then onto a little ski area, where they were serving food and drinks! I got myself a coke and felt in high heaven. They had wifi, so I was able to catch up with my friends and family and get some photos posted as well.

From there, there was a brief 200m climb back up to the frontier ridge, where I came to one of my favorite ridge walks yet. Almost 20km of sweet, sweeping meadows of grass and wildflowers.

Eventually find a nice freshwater spring coming out of the side of the mountain, and made dinner there. It’s hard to source water here on the frontier ridge, as any viable water source usually starts 200+ meters below you. Pitched the tent just down below it, since it was too good of a place to pass up. What a day! So many pictures! Hope you enjoy.

Good night!

Im gonna keep this one simple!

I summited Pic Carlit by 9am. Awesome views all around.

Passed by tons of people climbing up on the way down, Carlit is a very popular destination.

There was a trail that passes 13 pristine mountain lakes.

I came to the barrage of Lac Bouillouses, where I could barely breathe with all the tourists and buses and whatnot.

I kept on down the trail, which meandered around 4 foggy lakes.

There was a long dirt road hike towards the ski area of Bolquere, a resupply point.

I hiked up a red ski run to get a better view of the area.

I went down a blue ski run to resupply at the casino supermarket in Super Bolquere. Ahhhh OJ and fruits and all that good stuff.

Then I hike down to Bolquere, stopping at a beautiful tarn-side forest park just outside of town with tons of people picnicking, fishing, and playing around.

I walk through town and snap a selfie at the GR10 monument, which roughly shows the path and the mileage of the HRP trail!

There’s a good walk through a forested valley to the small hamlet of Eyne.

Finally, there’s a gorgeous trail that goes up the Vallon d’Eyne, where I camp at about 2,200m elevation on a grassy riverside.

Good night!

I woke up early and had a wonderful breakfast at the Hotel La Casada, and then set off around 9:30.

The trail was a total cruiser this morning! It was almost a level ridge walk, high above the fog-laden valley below, for about 10km. Then there was about a 500m climb to a pass in a wild valley.

Ah, the wilderness. Las montañas. A place where you can pee as freely as the river flows, in the valley of its own creation.

I once took a trip with a friend to one of my favorite swimming holes at Martha’s Falls in Little River Canyon.

Upon arriving, there was quite a crowd, as the locals love this place.

A guy approached and he asked me: “Are you one of those “conservists” ?”

“What do you mean?” I asked him, a little confused by this vocabulary.

“I mean I’ve seen people who look like you who come and tell everyone that there’s pee in the water.”

“Well, wouldn’t you want to know if there was?”

“But all water is pee!” He exclaimed matter-of-factly.

I found it difficult to argue with that statement.

Well hell. While I was trans-coding that there story, I went and walked up the wrong dang valley!

It’s a good thing my maps show so many alternate trails. I found one that crosses a Col easternly to the right valley and then has a badass ridge walk to the Col that leads to the valley of the peak Carlit! Two valleys for the price of one! Hell yea. I’ll take it.

I make my way down the valley below pic Carlit to the Lac de Carol, and cross the barrage to the other side (although I later translated the sign which said you’re supposed to walk down and around the dam, like whatever!) And began the ascent to the peak.

I decided to stop at the Estany de Fourats for the day, having already made 23km at about 3pm. I had read the weather report, which said thunderstorms would start around this time, and the sky did not disagree with that fact, which meant it was not exactly the most opportune moment to summit the highest mountain in the region. And I was tired. I’m not in a rush to finish this trail either! So, I pitched the tent by the lake and made a nice cup of afternoon coffee, soaking in the views of Carlit, the lake, and the surrounding valley, while watching the clouds grow ever darker.

The rain never came! It was quite a spectacle to see how much Pic Carlit acts as a weather barrier. On the south side, there were dark, mean looking rain clouds, and on the north side, the sky was as blue as a sun-struck glacial lake. There was a line right above my head where the storm and calm met. Very strange.

Well, I got some reading done on aquaponics, and went back and organized a few old Continental Divide Trail photos, and mostly laid around enjoying the views. Tomorrow, I will bag the summit bright and early, and make it to the village of Bolquere for lunch. Bring it on, future! Good night!

Today was one of those days that makes me love thru-hiking. There were so many little things that happened throughout the day that rekindled my sense that I am right where I want to be.

I woke up next to the lake, having slept in until the sun turned my tent into a broiling greenhouse.

Then there was a bit of a hike up 300m to a ridgeline, where the fun really began.

Along the way, I ran into four guys carrying heavy loads of bottled waters to who knows where. Maybe they were training?

Then, I came to a two-track up the side of a ridgeline, where someone stopped and asked if I needed a ride in Spanish. At least I think that’s what he was asking… in any case, I told him I was headed to Pas de la Casa, and that I had to walk, as per the “continuous footpath” part of the thru-hiker code. But I was glad he stopped and offered kindness (I think).

I made my way down from the ridge to the main highway leading into town, and I could hear tires screeching coming from just down below me. I took a look, and I was right above the Andorra Circuit raceway, where a few people were practicing their drift racing! It was fun to watch something totally different from what I’ve been doing. I grabbed a drink and some chips at the gas station, and entered relaxation mode, having made it successfully to another resupply point.

There was a short walk down to the town on trails parallel and down from the main highway. When I first got there, I tried to go to the burger king (cravings) but the line was out the door! So I decided to grab a hotel room for about $60 so I could have a base to do resupply and explore the town without my pack.

I grabbed 3 days of food at the market, and went back to the King to get my burger fix! It was truly amazing. A spiritual experience.

Then I walked around town and just took it all in. This was the largest commercial area I had been in since Paris, so it was fun to see all the different shops and markets and everyone out and about having fun (and mostly buying mass quantities of tax free liquor across the French border, lol). I grabbed a new pair of thick wool socks, since mine are in shreds.

Then I went back to the room and watched a storm roll in. I was glad not to be out hiking for once. This storm was mean. Heavy, consistent rain, from 6pm until midnight. Huge lightning strikes, and quite a bit of hail coated the roofs of the buildings outside of my room.

Ahhh yes. It was one of those days where everything worked out just right. I’m finally feeling at home here in Spain and France. I am excited to see what the next month holds. I have another 10 days to the Mediterranean sea to finish the HRP, and then we’ll see how she goes. I’d like to hike the GR5 in the French Alps next. Just have to make it there and start! That’s always the hardest part of hiking.

Oh well, it’s late. Good night!

I woke up extra early this morning, because the hotel I am staying at (La Bringue) has an all you can eat breakfast buffet that runs 8-10am, and I don’t want to miss a minute of it.

If you learn one thing about thru-hikers from my writing, it should be that AYCE buffets are the holy grail of eternal life for us.

Like, after eating freeze-drieds, ramen and tin tuna for so long, you get the cravings, that hiker hunger, that only a pile of bacon, sausage, and eggs can resolve. When you get to a place with a breakfast buffet, oo girl.. watch out. It’s like I’ve been fasting for a week and suddenly I have unlimited meat and pastries and coffee and juice sitting in front of me. Needless to say, I went ham.

Puns aside, today was a great day. I was riding the calorie high from the amazing dinner and breakfast from the hotel all day. I did about 24km, and most of all the ups and downs between El Serrat and my next resupply point of Pas de la Casa, a ski-shopping-mall-resort place (with a burger king and like 10 supermarkets) on the French-Andorra border. My food is a little scarce, but I have enough to make it in for burgers tomorrow around lunch time.

The day began on a beautiful trail through the national park of the Sellente valley, famous for its mountain wildflowers.

I hiked up to the Col de la Meners, where I then had a nice hike down to a lake, and then a long walk on a ridgeline, ending at a cascade.

From there, there was about a 500m climb up and over a high ridge separating the valley I was in from the valley Incles.

Along the way, I met three German guys, who had their military-issue backpacking gear with them (can you say heavy?) who had just completed the 16 day stretch of the haute route from Gavarnie to L’hospitalet d’Andorre, minus the three hard days (there is a way around the hard days on the GR11 trail).

I almost traded gas canisters with them, because they had a full one of the medium sized cans that fits so nicely in my 1100ml pot, but my canister ended up leaking a bit with their stove, so we decided against it. Oh well, it was nice of them to offer.

We talked a bit about the HRP and the trail life, and then I headed down the mountain to the Refuge de Sorda.

From there, I was planning on going directly down to the valley below, but I later checked my maps and found myself on the ridge trail running parallel to the valley. But it was all good, because I got to see a lot more that way, and I saw an awesome cirque that I would’ve missed if I’d gone the way I intended.

And the trail leading down to the valley from that cirque was amazing! Best trail I’ve been on in a while. It was such easy walking, I was cruising down it.

When I came to the bottom, I found myself at a large social gathering outside of a rural Andorran restaurant-shack, where everyone was having beers and dinner. It looked like a very kickin’ joint. But I had to pass it up. I would get my calorie fix in Pas de la Casa tomorrow.

I carried on up the road, and found my trail leading to one of the most beautiful mountain cirques I have ever had the honor of visiting.

I sat down and made dinner right there, taking in all the gorgeous peaks and ridges all around me, and the lush green grass.

Finally, I walked up another 200m above this grassland, and found an amazing place to camp for the night, next to the Estany de Baix de Siscaro.

A very fine place to pitch the tent.

Good night!

There wasn’t much to today.

It looked like Mt. Doom was outside of my tent this morning.

I walked down in the valley below, and then I climbed up and over a pass, leading me to the Arcalis ski resort.

Then I walked down some nice trails and dirt roads to the small village of El Serrat, where I decided to blow a hundred euros on a room at a fancy spa-hotel! I had to treat myself at least once on this trip, with how much I’ve been saving by eating and sleeping wild. And I’ve made it through the hardest days of the HRP! That is something worth celebrating.

For dinner I had a rabbit’s leg (a la Catalana) with potato and legumes, along with a salad with some duck in it, a few beers, and my favorite dessert, Tiramisu!!! All included in my “pension” of the stay (pension means dinner and breakfast is included with the stay).

In the morning, an all you can eat breakfast buffet, unlimited OJ, coffee, bacon, sausage, eggs (sunny side up), croissants, and au chocolats.

Worth every penny.

Never before have I been so hot and so cold so many different times in one day! Today started out in the rain. I decided to wait in the tent until it passed over a bit, since taking down a tent in the rain is not the most fun thing.

It was probably 10:30am when it finally stopped, and I got going. I had a 1,000m climb ahead of me, over the Col de Sellente. And to make it that much harder, I had a few extra kilograms of water soaked into my tent and backpack from last night’s deluge.

I was glad to start in a lull in today’s storms, and the ascent began in a forest that looked identical to those I got used to in the Pacific Northwest! Very wet, hiking up the ravine of a big cascading stream, with lush green vegetation like ferns and fir trees all around.

I crossed a bridge and carried on up the mountain, meeting a group of hikers headed down to where I was before, the Pla de Boavi.

The trail weaved it’s way around and up one of the walls of a large bowl in the valley, where two streams came cascading down from opposite valleys to form the one I hiked up along. Once at the top of the right cascade, I was at the remains of the refuge Sellente, which looks like it would’ve been a good place to rest at one point. I was hoping it would at least have a roof…

Ah well. I filtered some water for lunch and carried on up to the col. Once up there, I was able to see the Lac of Baborte, and the orange refugi just above it. Perfect spot for lunch, given the dismal weather! I really love all the unstaffed refuges they have up here. You just stay there if you need it, and it is built and cleaned by a local alpine club, who use it as a base to climb mountains.

I crossed the valley and came up to the refugi, meeting two other hikers I had been hiking behind for an hour or so. We all took off our wet boots and closed the two sets of solid metal storm doors, and sat down at the table with another man who was staying at the refuge.

While they poured over a map of the area in Spanish, I took the opportunity of having a table, to make a delicious pouch of soup and a cup of coffee! Yum! And out of the rain, too!

As much as I would’ve loved to stay there, I had to keep making progress today (it was about 2pm now) in order to make it to the small village of El Serrat tomorrow afternoon, so I can hopefully get a hotel room and recharge after a tough 6 day section of the high Pyrenees.

I said goodbye to the refugi people, and sailed down past the lake and down the valley, passing through more beautiful grassland and forests reminiscent of the PNW.

After crossing a river and coming to a large parking area, I found what was called the Pla de Boet, where you can apparently pay to pitch a tent for the night. However, it just looked like a giant bathroom for cows to me! Not a suitable place for a thru-hiker to stay. It was 5pm and I felt good about the next 700m climb over a mountain pass leading back across to France, where I could sleep at a high glacial lake, far from cows, for free.

The climb up was gradual enough to be enjoyable, and every step up brought more and more views of the surrounding mountain ranges.

Eventually, near the top, a foggy drizzly mess started blowing straight at me from the pass I was headed towards. It would coat my glasses and make it pretty hard to see, so I had to clean them off every 30-60 seconds.

Finally, near the top, I met another hiker going the way I had come, coming from the way I was to go. We were both surprised to see another person, given the conditions! We exchanged some trail info and carried on. I walked over the pass and followed a well-blazed trail down to the Etang de la Soucarrane (2,300m above sea level, a lake).

It sounded right to camp here tonight. Found a nice level spot in the grass by the lakeside, and made dinner. Then, I wrote this post. And finally, I drift into a dream state, satisfied with the day’s progress toward the Mediterranean.

Good night!

Today was magnificent! That’s not to say that it was not difficult, but it was rewarding for all its challenges and I am proud to say that I met its every trial.

I awoke at my lakeside campsite to a roof of fog a few hundred meters above, just near the top of the peaks around me at 2,700m. Also, it’s always a good day when the wind blow-dries your tent before you wake up!

I got going and traversed the first col of the day, an easy 200m climb. The trail led around the mountainside to another pristine lake. From there, I climbed up and over a second col, another 200m climb.

From there, I was just at the level of the fog ceiling, but I could make out the next round of lakes down below.

I set out towards them and made a few zig zags down through large rockfields and taiga grassland. All in, there were about 6 lakes in a row on this descent! I’m rich! Ha. If only wealth was measured by how many bodies of water you saw in your life.

I made it down to the Refuge Enric Puloji, and I took a peak inside. Swanky! 9 bunks and a little eating area. I wish we had more things like this in the U.S.. I’d be glad to stay in such a shelter during a blizzard/hailstorm/monsoon.

Anyways, it was about 11am and I had the place all to myself, so I made a nice cup of coffee inside at the table. Ah, I feel so civilized all of a sudden! What a luxury are tables and chairs and a roof over your head. But the day was young, so I had to finish my cup and set off down the trail.

I passed another lake and followed the outflowing stream from the lakes down the valley, past shepherds huts and through some forestland.

And there’s a TRAIL today! Imagine that! What a difference from yesterday’s soggy bushwhack. The trail was visibly treaded and well marked with cairns and Red-White blazes. I saw a few other hikers headed up to the refuge or just out for the day. I couldn’t say, as I rarely speak to anyone out here. I assume most of them don’t speak English. Maybe that’s a self-defeating attitude, but I’m also not out here to be social. I’m here to hike and photograph the highest crest of the Pyrenees mountains, from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean. I’m sure I’ll have plenty to talk about when I get home to my friends and family.

The trail continued on, crossed a bridge, and led on to a small little community called Noarre. I walked by just as a big family was outside of their house. Ahhh, the looks I get walking past people. It’s like they’ve never seen a backpacker before! Really can’t say I’ve seen many true backpackers out here. Mostly dayhikers and refuge-hoppers, both of whom carry very little and rely on others for their food and shelter.

Contrarily, I like to have all my food sorted myself, and I carry my home on my back. That’s my secret to spending as little as possible while traveling: learn to cook your own meals and enjoy sleeping in a tent.

I passed the hamlet and went down to the river, but I checked the maps and it was the wrong way! Dog gone. I had to climb back up through a big grassy field to the right trail. My way was going 1,000m up and over another high mountain pass, not a leisurely stroll down a pretty river valley. Such is the high route.

I began the climbing through a gorgeous forest of Aspen trees, and stopped at a waterfall 300m up to make a delicious tomato soup to help provide the energy for the climb.

Then, up, up, up, switchbacks and all that. They eventually led to a large open grassy bowl in the valley with multiple waterfalls contributing. I climbed up to the left of one of them, and finally came to the lakes that I had been looking for. First a small one, then a larger one near the Col de Certescan. From the high lake, I had another 300m climb up and over the col.

Then, I ran into some icy snow patches! They were supposed to be melted by now.. oh well. I took the opportunity to glissade, but it was so icy that I found it hard to stop, and lost control a bit. I made it to the bottom, skidding a little bit on the gravel, and caught my breath before I realized that something was missing… oh! I dropped one of my trekking poles halfway up the sheet of ice. I’m laughing at myself now. I had to kick steps in and climb up a precarious 20m to retrieve it, before glissading down a second time. Also, I could see from the bottom that I could’ve avoided the ice entirely by taking a scree field descent! Oh well, too late now.

I was in the fast track down the valley. There was a a refuge at the other end of this lake I walk towards, but I wasn’t really interested in spending money, as I have enough supplies already. Plus, it was only 6pm! I can make great miles in the cool temperatures from 6-8pm.

Ah, that’s another thing that made today a great hiking day! It was overcast and partly sunny for much of the day, so it never really got super hot, and I was in the shade of clouds or forests during the hottest part of the day. It made a huge difference in how I felt. Plus, there was an awesome wind that would blow through every 5-15 minutes and totally dry off all the water from my clothes! And it was probably a pleasant 60°, perfect for long walks in the mountains.

I carried on down the trail past the refuge, and stopped at a lower lake to make dinner. Instant noodles, tuna with mayo, and a chocolate bar with almonds or hazelnuts. That’s been my go to the last few days.

Then, on down the trail and into another picturesque valley. I’m really getting sick of how beautiful everything is here! The trail led on to a dirt road, which I took for a km before rejoining with another trail. It was a well-made road, blown into the side of a cliff for use by whoever manages the dams in this area.

Then the trail went down, down, 1,000m down to the Plains de Boavi. Along the way, there was thunder booming in the distance. When I was about 100m from the bottom, the skies opened up and the deluge began. I donned a poncho and carried on, with extra caution since all the rocks were slippery now.

At the bottom, I followed an old road along the river for a couple km, eventually coming to a big open field. Halfway across it and I see a flash and hear the crack of lightning up above! I jumped. I am lucky that the lightning usually strikes high peaks rather than hitting down in the valley. It was a little unnerving nonetheless.

I followed the road until it became a trail through the “Reserva Nacional de Caca” (I laughed)

and I made it to a bridge (thank the stars) over the raging, rain-swollen river below.

On the other side, I went down into the woods and found a perfect flat patch of grass to pitch the tent, in a calm moment before the rain picked up again.

Wow, what a day! I loved having good trail all day. I was able to make 25km despite the intense ups and downs.

The storm returned in force around 9:30, with powerful lightning and thunder all around, and a 30 minute deluge of water. I wouldn’t be so concerned, if I wasn’t camping in a historic floodplain. I know how the water level of rivers can rise up over the course of a few hours, and that is one of my fears. Being consumed by torrential floodwaters in the night. It’s just one of those things that you cant help thinking about in times like this. I hope the dams don’t break open, many years too soon.

Okay, good night!