Pyrenees Day 1: Mountain Marathon
I spent the night before my trek in Espot, on the eastern side of Aigüestortes y Estany Saint Maurici National Park (the park itself isn´t quite as big as its name). I arrived there the day before on the same bus as a friendly young Scottish couple, who were going on a 5-day hike in the same area. We got to talking and ended up sharing a 4WD taxi into the village (from the crossroads where the bus dropped us off), a large dinner, and the same pension (a cheap family-owned hotel). We talked about our respective plans, discussed routes and places to stay overnight during the hike. The park service operates several alpine huts, which cater to hikers and provide simple sleeping accomodations along with dinner and breakfast.
After my last set of bedsheets and hot showers with soap for the next 5 days, I was on the road at 8:15. My Lonely Planet guidebook (hereinafter LP guide) recommended a 7-hour itinerary for that day, but I decided to add a detour via some scenic lakes. It turned out that I had miscalculated just a little, and the detour took an additional 7 hours, even though I went rather fast, eager to test my strength against the mountains. Nevertheless, I completed all but the last two hours of the planned route, walking for almost 12 hours straight.
It was without a doubt the most physically challenging day in my life. In total, I gained over 2000 meters in altitude and went down about 800. Every minute was either up or down, with varying steepness. Sometimes the trail ran followed a gravel road, and at other times it was a barely distinguishable path, winding its way up to a high pass, or a descent over a giant boulder field, with small rock piles indicating the way. On some portions of the trail I would see quite a few people, but at times I knew there was no one around for miles.
As I ascended, the scenery went from pretty to spectacular to awe-inspiring. Initially I climbed along a forest stream, along which various mushrooms grew in abundance. After 3 hours or so, I reached a plateau with clear blue lakes, and one of the alpine huts nestled between them in a truly picturesque way (photos to come once I fully return to the connected world). Then, there was more climbing to do, going over a pass just below one of the tallest peaks in the park (and, incidentally, one of its official symbols). At about 3pm, after taking in the views from the valleys below, and my 4th snack of the day, I proceeded to descent to rejoin the main trail described in the LP guide.
At the Estany Saint Maurici (Estany means "pond" in Catalan), I met quite a few day-hikers with small packs, a clear sign of a nearby parking lot. From there, I started climbing up to another pass, which marked the boundary of the National Park. My plan was to camp somewhere beyond the boundary, since pitching a tent within the park is technically prohibited. However, it was getting late, and my energy was sustained only by periodic swigs of honey from a jar I had with me.
Finally, I decided to camp on a flat spot at about 2500 meters of altitude, just below the pass. It was very windy, and pitching my tent without losing parts of it to the abyss below took a lot of effort and concentration. The tent flapped madly like a loose sail until I finally managed to stake it down, remembering the lessons from windsurfing about making friends with the wind rather than fighting it. Fortunately my tent was rock-solid once it was in place, and it kept me warm and protected through the night.
After my last set of bedsheets and hot showers with soap for the next 5 days, I was on the road at 8:15. My Lonely Planet guidebook (hereinafter LP guide) recommended a 7-hour itinerary for that day, but I decided to add a detour via some scenic lakes. It turned out that I had miscalculated just a little, and the detour took an additional 7 hours, even though I went rather fast, eager to test my strength against the mountains. Nevertheless, I completed all but the last two hours of the planned route, walking for almost 12 hours straight.
It was without a doubt the most physically challenging day in my life. In total, I gained over 2000 meters in altitude and went down about 800. Every minute was either up or down, with varying steepness. Sometimes the trail ran followed a gravel road, and at other times it was a barely distinguishable path, winding its way up to a high pass, or a descent over a giant boulder field, with small rock piles indicating the way. On some portions of the trail I would see quite a few people, but at times I knew there was no one around for miles.
As I ascended, the scenery went from pretty to spectacular to awe-inspiring. Initially I climbed along a forest stream, along which various mushrooms grew in abundance. After 3 hours or so, I reached a plateau with clear blue lakes, and one of the alpine huts nestled between them in a truly picturesque way (photos to come once I fully return to the connected world). Then, there was more climbing to do, going over a pass just below one of the tallest peaks in the park (and, incidentally, one of its official symbols). At about 3pm, after taking in the views from the valleys below, and my 4th snack of the day, I proceeded to descent to rejoin the main trail described in the LP guide.
At the Estany Saint Maurici (Estany means "pond" in Catalan), I met quite a few day-hikers with small packs, a clear sign of a nearby parking lot. From there, I started climbing up to another pass, which marked the boundary of the National Park. My plan was to camp somewhere beyond the boundary, since pitching a tent within the park is technically prohibited. However, it was getting late, and my energy was sustained only by periodic swigs of honey from a jar I had with me.
Finally, I decided to camp on a flat spot at about 2500 meters of altitude, just below the pass. It was very windy, and pitching my tent without losing parts of it to the abyss below took a lot of effort and concentration. The tent flapped madly like a loose sail until I finally managed to stake it down, remembering the lessons from windsurfing about making friends with the wind rather than fighting it. Fortunately my tent was rock-solid once it was in place, and it kept me warm and protected through the night.
posted by Dmitri Evseev at 7:03 PM
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