Larun to Col d’Ursua
Distance Forward: 21.5km
We awoke this morning in our forested campsite to the sound of birds singing and the light of the sun beaming out across the fog-laden valley below.
After a long, hard ascent up a one lane concrete road, we found ourselves at the peak of Larun, a large hill at 3,000ft above the Basque Coast, which can be seen from a panoramic viewpoint.
Larun is very popular with both French and Spanish tourists on account of the easy access via the gondola lift, and the wonderful views of both countries’ Atlantic coastlines.
After some sight seeing (we mostly saw fog), we made the steep descent down rocky, gravel trails to the Col of Lizuniaga, where I made coffee and finished off some snacks for lunch. We made use of a nice grassy yard outside of a cafe that is renowned for their hospitality to hikers and travelers of all kinds.
Continuing up the road, we found a breathtaking view of Larun, enveloped in a Laputa like cloud (If you haven’t watched Miyazaki’s Castle in the Sky, it is a must).
Then, the trail leveled out and became a picturesque stroll through the woods. We stopped for water and I dunked my hat and shirt in the water to cool off. We’re lucky to have cloud cover today. The sun becomes relentless when you’re in it all day! Yesterday felt especially hot, as our bodies have not adjusted to the full time outdoor life just yet.
The path leads on to the Col de Lizaieta, a mountain pass on the border of France and Spain. Two cafes punctuate this space between the wilderness we came from and the one we now walk into.
It’s amazing how quickly the population centers disperse, how swiftly you find yourself in the mountains, without a sign of civilization to comfort you, aside from maybe a small cabin far in the distance, or the sound of a motor down in the valley.
Soon even these sparse artifacts will fade away, and we will be left with nothing but pure nature, concentrated, distilled to its most fundamental form. While we often think of nature as the life that surrounds us, all the types of plants and animals in the world around us, these are a very small part of nature. Nature often means life, but if you love nature, you must also love death, and all the non-living things that allow for life to come about.
After all, the Earth is mostly “inorganic” material. The clouds in the sky and the rocks shifting under our feet are not alive in the traditional sense, but they make up the vast majority of the nature that we experience.
The water vapors that form hurricanes are not alive, but the hurricane, in our eyes, is a living thing (perhaps why we give them names?) in that it is born, collects resources for its survival, reaches a peak, begins to decay, and eventually dies, dispersing its vital essence to nourish future hurricanes (and other lifeforms, plants and fungi and animals).
Such is the galaxy of which we are part, the stars above us and the molten rock beneath us. These are not living things, but they are alive in this sense, and all life (that we know of) depends on them for survival. And who can say they do not rely on the earth and the rain to live?
In fact, every living thing is made up of nonliving parts. The stellar ash from 5 generations of exploded stars runs through my veins. Is it alive? I know I am, and so it must be, to some extent. The hydrogen and oxygen that spent billions of years doing, well, not much, floating in the cosmic abyss, now creates the beautiful waterfalls and oceans that host and replenish all earthly life.
I hope I can accomplish something even a billionth as grand as that in all my life.
The music of life must be universal. Our planet’s story of life may be unique, found nowhere else on a billion, billion worlds. However, the elements and components that comprise life and the laws that allow for it are ubiquitous. We now have catalogs of hundreds of earth-like planets. Each of them could host a history as rich and fascinating as life’s tenure on our own sphere.
What does it all mean? I couldn’t tell you. These are the thoughts that stream through my mind after a full day on the trail, the terminus of 10 hrs of hard hiking.
Where were we.. Ah! Right. We were hiking. Then we stopped under a nice oak tree, made dinner, set up the tent and went to bed. Good night!
