A New Land Army..Revisited.

It's a while since I wrote this, in a spirit of hopefulness.

http://broadviewfromasmallfarm.blogspot.com/2020/04/

And that hope has by no means gone away, progress both political and practical has been made on many fronts.

There is certainly far greater recognition of the difficulties that farmers and growers face in bringing food to our plates.

From field to fork, so to speak.

We're not on quite this much of a slope btw..

The fact that the weather was pretty abysmal this spring is news to no one.

This really hampered us getting crops in, and those already growing overwinter were held back.. 

Or else dissolved all together. 🙁

On this little veg farm we were relatively lucky, a warmish climate, and south facing sandy loam.

But still the soil was cooler than usual, and battalions of enormous slugs munched their way through any fresh new growth.

I remember taking mesh covers off beds and thinking "I'm sure I planted lettuces here" and then wondering if I was mistaken as to where I'd put them.

It wasn't until I spied the chewed off nubs of what had been there that I realised that yes indeed. They were All Gone.

We usually plant an extra 20% or so extra crops, mindful of probable losses to the assorted wildlife, that of course we must regard as our brethren or earthly kin.

 Entitled we understand to eat also themselves..

But it gets a tad tricky to feel all that fuzzy

 'Farmimg in harmony with nature' when the critters have eaten everything ... 

Anyhow, looked at broadly the issues around food, sustainability, environmental concerns, and how do we get more people securely into this craft of producing good food, to feed people sufficiently and well haven't really changed.

If we do attract energetic switched on folk, who see that there can be great satisfaction in feeding people well, into this business, how do we make it ok or even possible for them to stay?

The motivation to do this kind of work is unlikely to be entirely money driven. But boring old bills must be paid, living costs covered. Even nice times had outside of farming, dare we suggest??

I've been asked to be part of a panel discussion later this year on 'How do you keep going??" 

That's not the actual session title but it's something like. And yes it's a reasonable question - how do you?? 

When the first flush of adrenalin that comes with setting up or taking on a business and somehow making it work has passed.

You're a little bit established, you may have had to go through some (or as in our case a lot) of planning battles to physically establish what you need to allow your productive enterprise endure.

You've spent no small amount of money, and an unfathomable amount of work to get things going. 

Now how to make it liveable in the long term.??

Enjoyable even!! 

I've got quite a few ideas around this.

Not by any means a template for what others 'should' do. 

But certainly some hard won experience of things to think about, and options to try. 

It seems to make as much sense to bung them here as anywhere as I mooch along the topic..

Apologies to anyone hoping for another Pyrenean trip episode..I will get back to that - probably after we've been again, but no great rush right?? 

Getting on with it...

 

A not inconsiderable bouldery down-climb brought us here.to this photogenic spot, the meteo, lending some extra atmos .

We'd camped in this valley floor a couple of times before, but no dallying here this time.

Well not that much dallying

A delicious home made apple cake was on offer at the refuge, and we'd caught up with Estelle and Orelle, who were busy kit riffling, and planning on cashing extra refreshment from the refuge, whilst sunning themselves on the short turf.

An afternoon break seemed a reasonable proposition.

 

And a chance to admire the view without at the same time having to watch ones footing. 

A lot of this kind of hiking comprises close examination of where your next step lands rather than spending much time appreciating grand vistas.. 

Or at least it does if you're not as sure footed as some appear to be.

Tiny tiny patches of glacier hang on.

But for how much longer 😟

  And then of course those who have come down.. Must, in this terrain, go back up again. 

The path back up is a pretty civilised, wide switchback. The GR10 I think

Of course, some of our compadres felt it necessary to make it slightly more exciting by taking shortcut scrambles between the main path.

And then again some of us didn't.. 

We did go up to the top of the left hand peakon our first trip..

But maybe this time, we'll skirt just a little to the left, as the afternoon wears on, and thoughts turn to days end..

And potential sit down dinner 😊

More atmospheric posing at the col.

Ooo la !! 

I decide to give it a try also.

Not too bad but I do really need to watch that tendency towards excessive lordosis 

Ah ok, and now down again is it..??

But with the welcome prospect of stopping for the night..

The clouds are starting to look a little more intentional. 

The highly observant (shelter nerds) among you will have noticed that no, this isn't our tent.

But sturdy pitching advice on tricky ground from an old hand is often welcome, and kept  

Far too modest to call himself an 'expert' of course - that task is left to others.

We (the 'clan' almost by now) decided to treat ourselves to a meal in the refuge nearby, they had space for more diners, and we had space for big dinners.. 

At 2651m Baysellance is one of the, or even the highest staffed refuges in the range. 

Quite a feast.. And it looks like I might have said something - -- 🤔

Meanwhile outside, the clouds rolled in to play.

That night was a proper noisy storm.

And a full on downpour for several hours .

Most of our pitches drained ok, and shelters stood firm. 

Only one camper got unlucky, and woke up almost floating in her own personal Lac d'Estelle. 

Thankfully, the next night promised a campsite and a chance to clean and dry some items.

That morning the Canadians and continentals decided upon a skirmishes up Petit Vignemale..

But having been up before-

- and still.having a good few hours of walking in front of us.

We decided onwards..Yes ok, it was mostly downhill, but that's not exactly effortless in this terrain.. 

Towards town it gets a bit more uppy downy, through the meadows, and I believe the last descent towards Gavarnie found me tiring of hot rocks and downclimbs. 

Very poor form I know to get grumpy on ones holidays especially with the prospect of a cold beer not far off.. 

Gavarnie has a very picturesque riverside campsite just a little way up the river from the main town.

About which some folks can be a little rude, as it perhaps lacks the cachet of other mountain resorts.. 

But then some folks are a bit fussy imo.. 

The prospect of stopping for a couple of nights, cleaning oneself, and ones things was very welcome.

 Simple pleasures such as hot running water, and not having to get up early and pack everything up..

Highly luxurious . 

The next day was spent washing, eating resupplying and napping, and eating again -particularly lots of salad stuff. 

Greenery being a bit lacking in the 'hill diet' .

We loafed about, with even the elevation from the washroom to our pitch seeming like a fairly rigorous climb  

But Estelle, being Estelle decided that a day off must have a bit action in it, so went for a minor skirmish up the famous circque (de Gavarnie) and then, as if that wasn't enough up a nearby peak called Taillion - only 4000 m high 🙄

 

Upon return, one of my favourite deapan statements from her.

"The wind was so strong up there, I thought I might get blown off the ridge and die -- 

- but I didn't die " 

That was really most excellent news 😊

Towards that vanishing point - Vers Vignemale on the HRP

 Movement onwards, is where many of us find our happiness, even if we're not trying to outrun our own selves.

Especially when travelling through splendours such as this...

Made more so, by that sweet repose, when our muscles and mind come together and chime 'thats enough movement for today, thanks.

So then rest in itself, that sheer absence of effort becomes a total luxury.

A soft enough surface to lie on, a warm enough.covering.

And a simple meal, substantial enough to keep a hungry belly from waking one up in the night.

Very basic needs met, become more than enough.

The morning had dawned fair, but promised storms.

But as the wise sign has it

 "If you wait for a good forecast, you might never leave the bistro" 

An early enough start saw us leaving Pombie and trundling far down into the valley, where a road crossed longditudanally and shepherds were moving their massed flocks to lower and lusher pastures.

Doing this transfer earlier in the season than usual, owing to the dearth of upland grass after a droughty summer.

They too predicted 'dreadful' storms, for that day. 

Dire forecasts seemed to be the standard habit of sheep-keepers hereabouts .

But what to do?

Hide out for hours in a roadside shack, just in case ?

Decided instead to adopt usual.'stoic mode' when it come to rain, and  keeping moving. climbing back up into the valley opposite.

Passing some snoozing hosses.

I don't think they were doing the classic lying down before the rain comes.

Just flaked out foals, watched over by their mommas.. 

Cows behaving 'properly' in the background.

And soon after, yes, the heavens did indeed open upon us

A good covering of hail did descend, much thunderousness and lightening occurred too. 

If caught out in a lightening storm you're not supposed to shelter under rocks, or in caves apparently, because of the way the lightning can spread across and curve around rock faces when struck..

So quite naturally we sheltered from the crashingly loud downpour under a large rock, and had an early lunch.. 

I mean, you would though, wouldn't you..??

OK, despite our persistent 'aliveness' up to date of publication, it might be best not to take storm survival tips from the likes of us 🙄

Darkness cleared away, and now looking back -- behind the cloud just above his head is where we'd camped that night

Then up and up, some more -

 I was looking forwards 'most cheerily' to taking the passage de Orteig, that we'd bottled on a previous trip.

It's only a channel of rock cut into a deathly vertiginous rock face, where you can confidently steady yourself with a chain strung along its length.

Child's play.

Although not recommended for when wet, or in potential thunderstorms..

Grasping electrified wet metal on an exposed rockface - really could amp up the 'fun factor' by several notches 🙄

Anyhow after a cooling dip here in the Lac l'Arrious (for him) near where we'd camped (again in a thunderstorm) on a previous trip, we set off stoutly to the start of the passage.

I could do it, for certain, even though the big step up on to the gnarlier part was a bit much for my already tired legs.

Which suddenly seemed to lose all strength.

The rock was still wet, and I could tell that my fairly apparent nerves about it were making his carefully gathered courage ebb away.

It's one thing managing your own fears when they're tested.

But his having to be 'brave' for two, would have spoiled it for him 

(the path much less travelled - by me at least 🙄) 

Just about visible across the shadowed rockface.

So I decided to go the longer way round..

Down a rocky path via a gently bovine filled valley and then up again, leaving him free to just 'do it' without thinking too much about it.

And what I really enjoyed so very much about this whole scenario?? 

Is that I didn't particularly mind at all 

Once upon a time I'd have given myself a hard time for not pushing myself 'outside my comfort zone' and would have been a bit cross at my 'bottling it'.

I mean maybe one day, on another day, I might go across, it's not even that hard. 

But at the same time it's also not 'unfinished business' I'm perfectly adequately happy, having not 'been there'.

That's such a nice feeling for a hitherto almost relentlessly 'goal orientated' person - 

It's rather lovely to now feel quite adequate already 🙏🏼

So our separate paths recrossed just before refuge de Arremoulit, where some of 'Team HRP' had booked themselves in for the night.

We instead found a bivouac spot amongst the rocks. Encountering a cheery Korean hiker doing same, he (Den) was doing a section of the HRP the 'other way' . 

A quiet night was enjoyed.

The now 'trusty' X-mid 

We sort of set off all together over a different pass.

The Canadians, and the French.

Looking back from whence we've come 

A previous trip had us clambering into a valley of rocks via the Port de Lavedan..

An almost vertical rock chute with a car sized boulder lodged in its maw.

This way however seemed rather civilised in comparison.

Opening onto a succession of scenic tableaux via Lac de Artouste

Even the Canadians obliged with their own 'scenic tableaux'..

Just about the correct amount of 'gnarl'🙄

Towards Embalse de Respomuso.

Near the refuge where an opportunistic hearty lunch was taken, as it was available, then on over the pass, across the scree, and down down down to refuge Wallon .

Quite a lot of this sort of terrain.

Geology Rocks, for sure.

I'm rather proud of my one single 'hill skill' which is taking an over the shoulder shot of my kite whilst she is aloft.. 

A very satisfactory and full.day which did almost feel like a 'walk in the park' - a geological park even.

Refuge Wallon has been rebuilt.

And quite frankly it's a vast thing to come across, after previous modest stone shelters.

Architecturally, and ecologically impressive yes.

But also huuuge!! 

Its within half a days walk of a road, so has been constructed so to accommodate more people than are usually to be found in these hills.

Fair enough, I s'pose, can't expect to have the place entirely to ourselves I guess. .

We availed ourselves of a beer at the refuge shop, but bivouacked a little way off 

The morning we ascended though 'alpine meadow' scenes

Then having reached a 'significant' height we were 'captured' by a passer by.. 

Pink gaiters still hanging in there. 

And OK rather a lot of purple 💜💜💜

Further progress through scree slopes.

Then pausing for an early lunch stop.

The classic 'brew with a view' ..

Just a first peek of the slopes of (the 'iconic') Vignemale 

A not inconsiderable bouldery down-climb, the local meteo here lending some extra atmos .

We'd camped in this valley bottom before, but no dallying here this time. 

Well not very much dallying. 

Perhaps just a short break for refreshment ... 🍰

 

Onwards into the East Pyrenees HRP section two, Lescun and beyond.

Somewhat footsore and weary from the days exertions. arriving in Lescun, felt pleasantly familiar having visited before

Turning right at the first bar shop,  and wandering down the hill, we first came across our cheese loving friend Otto, and Estelle, whom we had briefly met at Cabine de A  .. 

Estelle was doing an older - more purists? Version of the HRP.. 

Something to do with an old guide book of her fathers if I recall correctly.

Or at least that was her intent at this point of the trip..

We got around to discussing what motivated us to keep going on those long hills, and during the more difficult days, when energy was running low and even the possibility of 'completing' seemed like an remote dream.. 

I mentioned that one of my motivators was the poor lost fluffy bunny found on day two, how I'd decided it was my mission to port her, if at all possible to the shores of the Mediterranean.. 

Also that I'd christened her 'Mopsy' after one of Peter Rabbits sisters ..  

Of course 🐰

"Oh, is your rabbit pale brown, and does it have magnetic feet??"

Enquired Estelle, her eyes widening.. 

"Er yeah here's a picture"

As at the time the actual creature herself was buried deep in my pack with my spare socks. 

After having established the place of her discovery, we realised that Mopsy was indeed Estelles' mascot, too new to yet have been named. 

 

And also too soon rather disloyally jumping ship (or trail) early on in the proceedings.. 

As it was, Estelle was moving on from Lescun that day, and she was happy for me to keep a hold of the fuzzy little turncoat for a little while longer.

Punishment much for such footloose desertion, to be so crammed amongst my undies.. 

A little further down the street we espied Alberto (Canadian) lately reunited with newly arrived from across the pond - pal Matt (also Canadian)

. 

The twosome were raising libations to each other outside the lodgings where they were booked in for the next two nights.

I insisted that they buy me a coffee, and a beer, as I had little doubt as to how much pleasure that would bring them both ..  

Duly refreshed , with promises of a near future rendezvous over maps for the next section, we made our way slightly out of town to the campsite.. 

The last path up to it was pretty much near vertical I swear..

Much much steeper than in earlier years.

Lescun sits on the side of a pastoral valley surrounded on all sides by craggy heights.

Our rest day was spend in gentle pursuits such as laundry, resupply shopping, and more eating and drinking out..

Almost like a 'normal' holiday 😌

Spanish Alberto joined us briefly, for a cafe meal before going on out of town in search of his preferred cabane accomodation 

Then a few running repairs, some yoga on flat ground (such luxury) and a campsite dinner. 

Next morning was another up and at it early-ish start with a good mileage to cover.. 

So many rocky hills, but not going up these particular ones for this trip.. 

Instead ascending here into the national park, towards the borderlands. Many beautiful cows enjoying the grassland. 

We'd walked this track before. 

And past the seasonal dairy cabin.

Lettuce were planted on on the roof to protect them from hungry cattle and sheep. 

Nearly at the col. 

Views into Spain at Col de Pau

Looks very inviting.

Naughty Mopsy allowed out to graze a while, at our lunch stop..

Then on we go - around here Matt and Alberto  'The Canadians' caught us up having made a later 'Hotel Start*' from Lescun. 

*This is the sensibly luxurious diametric opposite of an 'Alpine Start' - Thats the sort of gig where you have to awake before dawn and blearily scrabble around packing up your jumble in a half dark tent in order that you then attain some noble hiking goal for the day before mid afternoon..

Always character building of course..🙄

Aww one especially for our horsey readers  -

 Quite how the horsies manage to log in with those hooves is a marvel - i suspect they have hooman friends..

We sort - of kept up with The Canadians on our way towards Lac de Arlet

Rather unskilfully we'd all underestimated the amount of water we needed to carry for this particular section - and it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that we all arrived pretty much gasping for refreshment at the lakeside

Water was gathered and filtered painfully slowly drip drip drip - before drinking

Filtering water isnt something we routinely go in for but the lake was low and a bit muddy looking.

We then added to the filth by swimming with others from the sandy beach there - very refreshing 🌊

Last visit here we'd camped near the lake, but eaten in the refuge nearby . 

It was only afterwards that we discovered that there was a still in operation, clean water tap at the closed for refurbishment refuge - Quite a relief to be amply resupplied for our last push to that nights stopping place. 

Through a rather parched landscape..

Another 3 kms perhaps - 

- along the way i had the slightly startling experience of having sheep chuck rocks at me 

 -- Ok exaggeration - they were grazing the steep hillside above and as a result dislodged stones as they moved across the slope.

One bounced uncomfortably close behind - then another in front onto the path - did they in fact sense how partial to a lamb chop i am?? 

Somehow we made it here unscathed - if still a teensy bit dehydrated.

An entirely stone built shepherds emergency shelter situated within a grazing range that is allocated to a particular seasonal shepherd that year - apparently there was a bit of rivalry over whose sheep could go where.

And after this summers dearth of grass the potential for inter-shephard friction had increased.

But we were just carefree backpackers untroubled by land rights at this point in time.

Not taking up too much space i hope.

That evening we made our first acquaintance with Orelle another Frenchwoman doing the HRP by herself - and a professional singer. 

Most of us were generally way finding by maps on phones..

But it is nice now and then to get a big sheet of paper out and really see the context of where you are.

Later on in the evening, a couple of the seasonal shepherding assistants brought us very welcome beers and local pate to share.

All we really had to exchange for this hospitable largesse was chat - and perhaps we offered some chocolate?? - 

But that seemed to be enough to pass a convivial evening together. 

Later that night after retiring we had our first 'proper' thunderstorm.

Something we've grown to be a bit blasé about after many years of camping in them, and somehow living to tell the tale. 

But it was loud enough to have Orelle quit her tent and make for the more solid shelter of the stone built shepherds hut, already occupied by the colonials.. 

And then onwards, and onwards the next day.. 

Again it was terrain we had covered before, but it didn't matter - there's enough landscape here to bear revisiting many times over 

And through the gnarly beech woods and up the steep hillside.

Steeper and steeper

A stop for the obligatory 'album cover' shot..

"Chaps with Packs"

Ascending to Lac d Astanes, the last part of the climb takes you over some fairly 'airy' ladder type constructions .

Absolutely fine so long as you don't look down through the cracks.. 

Yet more lakeside refreshment was had..

Lunch, and a swim for some in Lac Estaens .

Down the hill, across the slope through woodland where we viewed the 'path' across the scree slope.

Face on it just looks like a thin line across a near vertical slope 

Nerves weren't helped by witnessing another hiker falling a couple of metres from the 'access closed' upper path

But once you're on it it's not nearly so bad, just a tad edgy in places..

By this time in the trip I'd started to classify any vertiginous paths into either 'potentially deathy' or 'just hurty' in terms of risk factor if fell off of, or maybe more accurately classified the 'fear factor'. 

Ultimately this one didn't really qualify for either. 

And anyhow - spoiler alert' you'll have surmised by now that 'I didn't die' - a happy phrase I picked up from Estelle on the trail.

A little bit more up and down and across for another hour or so, saw us approach the unlovely ski resort uglification known as Candanchu.. 

As we found refreshment and contemplated some extra provisioning for the next part of the trail, it started to chuck it down

Not content with that, the downpour turned into an absolute deluge, accompanied by all the drama of prolonged thunder and lightning.

Even the locals said they'd never seen anything like it.

My slight sniffiness at mountainside developments such as this, quickly evaporated into gratitude for affording such shelter.

The rain didn't look like stopping, so we decided we would.

The plan had been to push a few more km up the trail to camp. But ah the joys of having nothing to prove.

A good value, out of season hotel was found for the night.. With a bathtub..Such luxury.

And a pizza out with our new found chums.

It was a good decision.

The following morning was much nicer.

Along the way we caught up with Spanish Alberto, and made our way up the hill to Ibon de Escalar, where delight of all delights he made us proper coffee with his aeropress.

I traded caffeine for some precision adjustments to his head-balance technique..

Not a bad line I'd say.. 

Then up and over the pass to get our first good view of the iconic Pic du Midi d'Ossau .

Quite a few others on this part of the trail as it's close to the road, and definitely worth the haul up the hill to see - sitting in its encircling bowl of hills. 

A lunch stop to prepare for the next section of lumps and bumps.

Yup you guessed it - all the way down then all the way up again..

Looking back to where we;d come.

Quite a haul up, through flocks of highly unimpressed sheep.

They do this kind of ascent everyday I expect. 

Long distance gnarl shot.. 

And another peak for us to skirt around.

Finally past the rather dried up lake, where we'd camped on a previous trip..

And over the boulders to the Col de Peyreget.

Despite the daunting first impressions given this can make for a fun way of going, if you're in the mood..

It feels like a bit of a puzzle trying to make out which rock you're going to hop onto next, but one. 

But once you get into the flow it can feel like quite a satisfying way of making progress. 

There are occasional cairns to mark 'the way' but you do have to hope they've been put there by someone sensible.. 🤔

And then down and down again.

Steep downhill at the end of the day can feel as wearying as steep uphill, knees start to grumble - so hurrah for walking poles.

I know, I know one really mustn't grumble about 'tiredness' on super priveleged holiday excursions.. I do know that.. 

But still.

Compare the pack size...

Its rarely if ever just down and down - there's often a bit more up again ..

The refuge Pombie is situated by a small lake .

Some of our company had booked a meal there 

We'd provisioned for ourselves 

But did rather enjoy a beer, in company. 

And Spanish Alberto was keen for a bit more yoga instruction..

This is one of my favourite post hiking poses (that doesn't actually involve lying down)

 Parsvottanasa 

Streches the legs in all the right places, and unfurls the front edge of the spine whilst freeing the shoulders .

All it takes to effect is a handy, wall, tree, or even a big boulder will do.

Looking up, and being evenly aligned is really important.

And of course you do both sides a few times to get best benefit. 

And so once more to bed.

Little X-mid a home from home by now.

Putting it up is quick and simple.

As by this stage of the day there's precious little energy left for any kind of faffing. 

A moody view of tomorrows 'goals' but first a well earned rest..