I forgot to tell you that sometimes I am not very smart.
And in those moments, I can say to myself: «Take the pucks from the trekking poles for the snow? No, useless! The end of May must obviously see the end of the snowmelt in this place. This object will not be used «.
I remember very well that moment when at home I was packing my bag, and I also remembered it well when my two legs made a 90 ° from left to right while passing over a snowfield.
Having a stick folded in an L doesn’t help much in the mountains. Finally, I will have to carry this unnecessary object until the end, because I wanted to save 3 grams.
It’s fun to think of that as you snap it off her leg to hang it behind her bag.
So I redid the passage in the other direction, I stuck my leg in the snow up to the thigh because a hole was hiding below then I arrived on the plateau below the refuge.
I put my shoulders still all smoking on the ground avoiding the dung which, they are rather dry.
A sunbath, then I continue the nap in the tent that I have just set up.
Two hours later it was when someone started shouting: «Where is the refuge ?!» and that another answered him «300 meters over there!», that I understood that there was mist.
Let’s take a walk outside.
I will take the opportunity to relieve myself.
But beware, the wind is blowing and the clouds of mist sometimes leave expanses in the open.
It would be a shame to find myself in the middle of a path whose climatic blind surveyors would cover the sight of my communion with nature.
I’m not very smart, I told you. So this morning in the Bious-Artigues car park, when I got ready to leave, I said to myself «well, why not save the weight of the inflatable mattress?»
Error, of course! I did not think he could have insulated me from the ground, therefore from the cold. So I put up a survival blanket under the tent. Symbolic? May be.
And so, like the Andalusian shepherd in «The Alchemist», I sleep on the ground, my bag as a pillow. Besides, like him, I am building my personal legend!
The peak by the lake.
Obviously I sleep fully dressed. It’s not with my old sleeping bag and the wind blowing through the tent that I risk sweating this night.
I wake up every 30 minutes, I almost shiver and in the long icy night I throw at my Rolleiflex, faithful companion of an advanced age: «I will not let go of you, buddy, we either make it or we both perish !»
In short, in fact it’s okay, the next day I wake up in paradise but I didn’t freeze to death after all. It wasn’t my time, it’s only tea time. You laugh less Chione (1)!
****
That’s it, I left! I still have cold feet. Maybe I should have put my shoes on in the tent next to me that night as my feet touched the cold-swept canvas.
My shoes and feet are cold ok, let’s move on, it’s okay. But, it actually hurts! It’s even numb ... What if they had changed color to black? Will I have to amputate my toe before I go home? Or a foot? Or both? How to bring back the car without feet? By pressing with walking sticks? I only have one left ...
That’s enough ! I stop and I look right away, I have to know. My life, my future are at stake!
Oh no, it’s good, they are only cold ...
I warm them with my hands because I can’t breathe on them. I finally understand the superiority of flexible people.
(1). (Greek goddess of cold, snow and ice).
The peak and the block.
“A wonderful serenity reigns in my soul, like the sweet spring mornings that I savor with delight.
I am alone, and I enjoy the charm of living in a land that was created for souls like mine.”
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - The Sorrows of Young Werther.
I descend by borrowing this long scree in «S» in the direction of the plain.
The path can be dangerous if you are not careful and the climb is violent in the other direction.
The proverb «when you climb the ladder, smile at all those you pass, because you will meet the same on the way down.» Not Applicable. Here it is rather, «When you come back down, smile at all those that you meet because they will find after the effort, the serenity that you knew once up there».
Anyway in this scree, difficult to smile during the climb, I rather meet red and breathless people.
During a photographic break I discuss our routes with someone who was following me from afar.
I had in the idea of spending the second night at the refuge of Pombie (Altitude 2,032 m), unlike me this person always has his two poles with the pucks in addition to crampons.
He tells me some say that there are some rather technical and slippery passages because of the snow.
And me, I think of this first climb on the path to the refuge, pretty and impressive by its drop. I do not like him.
Going up there is one thing, I’ve done it before. Okay, without the snow of course, but I’ve done it before. But once there, there is the night with my old sleeping bag and my survival blanket as a mattress waiting for me! The one I just passed being quite icy doesn’t make me want to do it again.
And if I go through Pombie I will not be able to take pictures again with my next film, the Rollei Infradred, on the «first set» at the beginning.
I hesitate, but I already know deep down that I should come back for a second round.
At the crossroads,
the tree in front of me rising up,
will be that of renunciation.
One last look back, bye bye Pic d’Ossau.
And but ... What is this rock. A kind of cave?
But by the way, there are bears in the Pyrenees ...
HEY! But what is this noise! A growl ?!
Oh no, it’s only my stomach.
It’s time for the famous ham / sheep’s cheese sandwich.
Let’s eat, there is still a long way to go.
In the valley below me
In the valley below
They all pretend not to know me
They all act like they don’t know
In the sky above me
In the sky above
Mama all the stars are broken
For either me or you or us
In the valley below me
In the valley below
They all pretend not to know us
They all act like they don’t know
In the sky above me
In the sky above
Mama all the stars are broken
For either me or you or us
Valley - Kevin Morby
Here, I crossed the plain. The «first plateau» from the start.
I lie down where I took the photo of the orientation stake. There was a mist and nobody else. There are people there. Many families for whom the hike usually stops after the first climb.
I am tired, my feet on fire, my shoulders as hard as concrete, I am in pain but I am fine. I have the sun for my companion and my Rolleiflex as my confidant. I close my eyes, lying by the side of the road, I can fall asleep. A little sugar and water to regain my strength as I am about to go down, again.
And follow the Gave de Bious which runs through the rocks.
The climb is tough, the descent is long. I am very restrained, I walk on eggshells so as not to break my bones.
And I take advantage of it, I come back from paradise as one returns from death.
“You do not know, you, what I lived up there. What I saw, near the light. The deadly cold, the beauty of life.”
I meet groups, among them people who are too well dressed, clean, with white sneakers avoiding puddles. Me, I walk in puddles, I am dirty. I imagine myself to be a man of the woods, a friend of the mountains. The lonely old shepherd, the desperado of the Ossau valley ...
For the others, I’m just another hiker. Someone who needs a shower!
But the shower will wait.
At the end of the path there is the lake of Bious-Artigues, its dam, the parking lot, the car. I take off my hiking boots. A gesture that is part of the moments of extreme pleasure.
Putting on your everyday shoes is like putting on slippers.
Speaking of slippers, I almost ended up with an equivalent because I realize that my outer soles did not support this expedition and gave everything in the end. They are detached on each side over a good half. Ready to let go. Luckily I didn’t do the loop all the way to the second hut, these «boots / slippers» would have been comparable to skis when it comes to endurance. From desperado, I would have become the desperate.
Come on, let’s take the car, I have a carbon footprint to make up for.
I choose a place for myself for the potential arrival of the mist.
Tonight I will sleep in the car, sheltered from the wind and ... on the mattress!
No
haze.
Neither last night nor this morning. Pity.
By the way, are you tired of it? Don’t worry, it’s over soon.
I am not opening a new chapter, on the contrary, I am closing it. But it would be a shame to leave without going for a walk to the spanish border!
Yes ... by car. Let’s go to diffuse our carbon monoxide in the heights ... Our bronchi will wait a little longer before finding the Covid-19.
There is always a refuge on the way.
A few kilometers down the pass, I instinctively park on the side of the road, at the foot of a dam. Last photo.
Back to the car, by reflex, I recharge my Rolleiflex.
Always be ready for a good photo. It’s important.
Behind me, a woman comes out of her camper van, comes forward and knocks on my window.
«_ You know the lake of Bious Artigues? To go to the lakes of Ayous. She asks me.
_ Indeed I know ... Go down another three kilometers and take the small road which goes up on the left, it will lead you to the parking lot of the lake. «
And in front of me slowly moves away the vehicle, on the small winding roads which descend from the Col du Pourtalet.
I already envy this adventurer, future desperada of Ossau.
She and of course, the new chapter in her personal legend that she is about to write.
Mine ends here.