Gabas – Gourette

We knew this would be a hard day, but we didn’t expect it to be this hard.

We left Gabas at 6:30. Soon, we were climbing in a damp, dark beech forest. We gained elevation, then we lost it, we came out of the dark, then we plunged back in. A few iterations later, the path turns around a corner and suddenly we were on a foot-wide passage cut out of the precipitous cliff, much like Chemin de la Mature, yet narrower and more menacing. A rusty cable was loosely attached to the hard, stone wall. After traversing it with all his might, Z.Z. had to turn back, succumbed to fear of height while clueless how far he had gone. This was the only part of the trek that I was confused by my GPS map since GPS shows a mild, winding path instead of this cliff walk. Meanwhile, the red white GR10 sign was replaced by a yellow sign. Though the 2-dimensional GPS map showed we were rather close to its marked GR10 path, we were doubtful as we saw no end of this treacherous yellow path and no sign of red and white. Thus, we spent the next hour or more, going all the way back, following GPS judiciously onto a GR10 alternate (confusingly). Following many zig-zags and a long climb on a rocky but wide path, we finally figured out: we almost completed a circle. Z.Z. was disappointed. He came a long way on hiking, but he hadn’t overcome this height thing…

Blue sky, not a trace of cloud. We were on a beautiful balcony walk above the tree line. Looking down, tiny farms were nestled in the verdant valley where long and narrow country roads meandered across. But we were walking higher towards the snow-capped peaks. Our speculations on which one of those white mountain passes could be Hourquette d’Arre, the highest point of the day’s walk, were nevertheless, misguided. The blazing sun was disorienting. So we decided to sit down on the narrow path and chew some salty jambon prepared by our Gabas host. We finished our lunch with no interruption as no passersby emerged. With protein in stomach, we had no excuse but to carry on.

After a long while on that mildly-sloping balcony, steep climb resumed. Soaked in sweat, I was dragging my feet. Every exertion upward was a struggle. It wasn’t a challenging climb, but it felt like the longest climb I’d ever had! Worse to come, water was running out fast and taking my stamina along with it. Then we heard something, the refreshing sound of a running stream! We were almost at 2000 meters, it was likely drinkable. We had to drink anyway. Icy cold, sweet water, what a savior! Nothing have ever tasted this good! We filled up all our bottles in a frenzy.  From that point on, streams or patches of snow would accompany us all the way to the summit and over.

Preparing for this trip, I had debated whether to bring ice axes and crampons. Presumably ice and snow wouldn’t be cleared in mid June. Concerns for safety meant my shoulder and knee had to suffer more. We brought our Kahtoola microspikes and our shiny, brand new ice axes. Yet, the axes stayed on our back, with no role to play. The unusual heat, melted significant amount of snow already. Likewise, my dream of scaling the awesome icy ridge with my shiny axe evaporated as well. Whatever remained there was slushy and slippery. That was our final ascent, over melting snow and loose rocks.

At 2465 meters, Hourquette d’Arre offers unobstructed view of the surrounding peaks. It was not easy getting up here under the relentless sun, but it all felt worthwhile now. Z.Z. was busy tinkering with his camera. I just sat there, bathed in the sun, soaked in the view, drank my “mountain dew”.

The descent was on a different type of terrain, rocky and steep. But unlike the ascending slope of loose stones on the other side, posed no difficulty on a dry day.  When we came down to Lac d’Anglas, we thought the job was half down. Of course, we were wrong. Yet we were going down with the setting sun, which painted a soft hue on everything. We rushed no more, simply enjoying the various shades of the vast mountain in that picture-perfect light.

Gourette looks grand from a distance. Only when we arrived at the lodge, we learned that it was actually a ghost town. Nothing opens at this time of the year. Livelihood will only be restored in ski season. But no worries, the kitchen at the lodge waited for us, the only customer at that hour. They cooked us a wonderful meal.