Pic d'Anie

On our last free day in France we set out to walk from Arrette la Pierre St-Martin, a skifield on the Spanish border (1700m) to the Pic D’Anie (2504m) and down the other side to the Refuge de l’Aberouat (1400m) near Lescun. This was only possible because we were with family who were willing to drop us off and meet us at the other end.

After a brief hunt around the ski lifts for the right track we set off with glorious alpine meadows to the east...

...and to our west the barren Arre de Soum Couy. We were walking very close to the Spanish border and most of the people we met on our way up the Pic were Spanish.

A couple of hours walking brought us to this cleft through the ridge separating the Arre de Soum Couy from the Arres d’Anie. (‘Arre’ seems to refer to a flat expanse of rock, but not a boulder field).

Another hour took us to the foot of the peak itself. The Arres d’Anie was fascinating walking – the rocks were frost cracked to such an extent that they often looked like the splintered end of a piece of wood with us hopping from splinter to splinter. Too much concentration needed to allow any photography before this.

From here is was a steep but straightforward climb until we reached the bifurcation between the track down the other side and the final scramble to the summit. K decided to sit it out in a small cave to save herself for the descent and was rewarded by a close inspection from a Griffon Vulture, probably hoping to repeat last year’s incident when a fallen climber was picked completely clean before her remains could be recovered. Here is a picture of one flying free at a bird show we attended the day before. They are a spectacular bird, with a wingspan of up to 2.8m.

Meanwhile, on the summit, I was joined by an Alpine Accentor and one of the ubiquitous Alpine Chough’s, both no doubt accustomed to people dropping crumbs.

This is the view from the summit south to the other peaks of the Cirque de Lescun. There were thunderstorms over in the next valley and it did not seem advisable to stay too long.

We followed other people’s tracks along the side of the mountain,to the Col d’Anie, glad of our trekking poles when crossing snowfields on the steep slope.

From near the Col we could see the beautiful crest known as Les Orgues de Camplong. Organ pipes are an over-used comparison when naming rock formations. We also had a good view of a marmot foraging on these juicy green meadows.

The track to Refuge de l’Aberouat runs along the base of these cliffs, passing the usual picturesque shepherd’s summer residences. The back wall of that hut is the boulder itself.

As we approached the Refuge and reentered the forest we could see in the distance the Pic du Midi D'Ossau that we had not quite managed a few days before.

We finally reached the Refuge and our lift home after eight hours walking – the 1100m descent from the Pic to the Refuge was quite wearing on the joints, even with poles, but overall this was a truly memorable day in the mountains.

Not quite Le Pic

A son of the desert finding himself in France after a conference, with the kind offer of an apartment in Pau at the foot of the Pyrenees, it seemed natural to go for a walk. A former colleague, Jack, who has walked with us in Australia was at the same meeting and we decided to try and climb the Pic du Midi D'Ossau, a prominent 2884m peak at the southern end of the Pyrenees.

We started quite late, after an enjoyable night sampling the food and wine of Bearn with our wives. Nevertheless, Le Guide Rando advised us that the climb is seven hours return, so even allowing or a leisurely pace and margin for error we had time to complete the walk in daylight. However, we then made the fatal error of parking at Cabane de Callou (1403m) instead of Cabane de L'Aralle (1720m)! It's a very nice route, but added another 300m to our planned 1100m ascent.

As we began the walk we passed a farmer returning from the high pastures with a canister of fresh sheep's milk on a donkey.

It was a gorgeous day and although the ambient temperature was only 17C, down from 30C back in Pau, it was very hot in the sun and we were glad of mountain streams to cool off.

After an hour we left the beech forest to cross the open pastures, ringing with the bells of hundreds of of sheep and cows in the first stages of cheese production. Here we could see the mountain in front of us:

Another hour brought us to the Refuge de Pombie, where we stopped for lunch.

From here, behind what seems to be the caretakers hut, the mountain looks quite intimidating:

Behind the Refuge is a tarn, still partly filled with ice. The track to the voie normale at the northern end of the mountain winds around the tarn and across boulder fields and small snowfields to the Col de Suzon.

By the time we reached the Col the weather was looking quite ominous and it was spotting rain.

We headed up the ridge to the beginning of the climb, cheered on by some French and Spanish climbers celebrating their successful descent with a bottle of wine. A combination of Paul's dimly remembered school French and Jack's somewhat better Spanish elicited the information that we were probably a bit late to reach the summit, that this did not apply to us because Australians should hop up like kangaroos, and that it was absolutely necessary that we have some wine. They also offered to take a photo of the two of us:

Since it did not seem to be raining any longer we decided to get as far as we could get before five o'clock, allowing us time to get back to the car in daylight. We put on our helmets and headed up.

At the second of the three chimneys that need to be climbed to reach the summit plateau we ran out of time and headed back down. On the way down we used ropes for safety. Here is Jack almost back at the start of the climb.

This otherwise useless photo shows the permanent gear that is installed throughout the route:

What is also evident in that photo is that it is about to rain. As I descended the last section we had the one serious thundershower of the day and it was like climbing down a waterfall.

Here we are wet but happy to be over that:

The rain lasted less than quarter of an hour, and we romped back down the mountain without further incident. On the way back we had a great view of a Marmot, which sat on a rock and stared at us until we produced a camera, when it disappeared between the boulders.

Eventually the sun came out again and we had beautiful views of the other side of the Ossau valley, and the shadow of the mountain.

We were back at the car after ten hours on the mountain. We had passed a farmer milking sheep outside his summer cabin, and near the car we met another who sold us some beautifully sweet fromage frais straight from the muslin cloth in which he was draining it, and a chunk of aged Brebis. So all in all a wonderful day out in the high Pyrenees, even if we did not reach our objective. Perhaps next time...