Decision Day Looms
In the next 36 hours, Klaas and I need decide whether we’re going to tackle the toughest 3 days of the HRP or take a diversion onto the GR11, on the grounds that the current snow levels make the HRP too dangerous. I mentioned yesterday that I was trying to convince Klaas to join me on the HRP but, after I’d written that last night, we read his guidebook. Whereas mine says the route may be dangerous in bad weather, the Véron guide suggests a rope might come in handy and isn’t very positive about the chances of survival even then.
This morning I wandered over to his tent to tell him I was reconsidering and he said he’d changed his mind too. We agreed to have a chat with the guardians of the two refuges en route, and see what their advice was, given the amount of snow currently around. At that point though, it looked like we were heading for the GR11.
We had a late lunch at Refuge de Barroude and asked the guardian there what he thought. We’d just come over a col called Hourquette de Héas, so we were relieved when he told us that it was no worse than that. There was a bit of steep snow on the descent and some slightly precarious rocks to cross, but nothing too bad.
Tomorrow night we’re thinking of camping on a campsite slightly short of the second refuge, so we should get a second opinion early on Wednesday morning, then we need to decide.
After our lunch at the refuge we had another snowy climb up to Puerto de Barrosa, then crossed over into Spain and spent a couple of hours descending into the valley. The river was much higher than the guide book expected, and was quite tough to cross. I tied my boots to my pack again, but Klaas waded through in his boots, and is now hoping they dry out by tomorrow!
Shortly after we crossed the river, we made it safely to our bivouac spot by the river. Apart from having the world’s most aggressive mosquito population, the place is pretty nice, but I’d got 20 bites swelling up before I realised what was happening, and have been hiding in my tent since then.
I did venture out for a sip of Heineken at one point. Klaas picks up a can or two every day, as close as possible to the end, then chills them in a stream when we’ve arrived. Carrying the extra weight seems a bit mad, but I can’t deny that it tasted absolutely amazing last night! I might even get myself a can this afternoon…