This could be our most exciting day yet.
France is smaller than Texas but more than two times the size of the state of Colorado. And like Texas, the terrain and the culture vary from any perspective. The French Pyrenees are in the far south part of the country; they run east to west, from the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean.
We rented a car for this trip. Only an hour away but a world away from Pau, the Pyrenees mountain range is shared between France and Spain except for tiny Andorra which is sandwiched in between. The mountains form the border between the two countries. Without a doubt, these are some of the most majestic, grand, beautiful mountains we have ever seen. And what adds dimension and interest to the mountain sights are the quaint Basque and Bearn towns that nestle in the valleys. Oh so beautiful! Green valleys between tall granite mountains above and winding roads to and through amazing mountain passes make a picture impossible to replicate.
We started this morning with plans to drive to Laruns, one of the most charming towns in the French Pyrenees but by the time we picked up our cute little Fiat hybrid – I loved this car — Stan had decided to point our navigation system to Gourette, a town just a bit farther south and to the east of Laruns. Gourette is a good-sized skiing village with very snazzy modern hotels, apartments, restaurants, ski shops, lifts, and all. It is closed-up tight all months of the year except during skiing season. I mean shut up— it was like a movie set or a contemporary ghost town! That was no problem for us; we were seeking a hiking trail. The nice young person we talked with at the tourist bureau at the village of Eaux Bonnes told us about a couple of trails — there are many here, she said, but we needed one we could do today and still return to Pau at a decent hour in the evening. She sent us back out on the same little curvy road that brought us up to Eaux Bonnes onward to Gourette and still farther on. Little did we know we’d end up on one of the most famous and most challenging sections of the Tour de France route.
At Col D’Aubisque, alt. 1709m, we found our trailhead. Just as the young lady told us, the trail began between two buildings. They happened to be restaurants and the only ones for miles. Lots of cyclists, motorcyclists, cars, and a few campers were parked there. Everyone chatted like old friends and had coffee, wine, beer, and snacks. A herd of sheep grazed right there and an old horse milled around the pass. We began our hike. As we looked upward to the mountain, we could see brown animal paths winding here and there on all the hills. Our path, marked with yellow and red trail markers, led us upward stepping through ruts on a path worn deep by sheep, goats, horses, and cows passing this way year after year. Animal poops were abundant, and so were wildflowers and brilliant green grass. This is livestock land; below us, herds moved slowly from hill to hill grazing on the rich green slopes. As we gained altitude, the green grass changed into purple heather. The views were astounding! We had to stop a moment to simply take it all in. Here we were – just Stan and Janie – walking on the ridge of a tall mountain in the Pyrenees – it was breathtaking and soulful.
Along a hillside across a valley, we saw movement. Stan said I think it’s a dog hunting or making his way to his flock down the hill. I zoomed in with my camera. It was a big, hairy, sturdy-built Great Pyrenees; we watched him hunt, sniff, check and go left and right on his mission. From the top of our hill and the end of our upwards hike, we could see for miles. Far down the mountainside, a speck-like herdsman’s camper seemed almost out of place in the vast green. In the distance on several different hills, small herds of horses and cows grazed contentedly. I thought what a peaceful life these great animals must have! And like white clouds, flocks of sheep dotted the green hillsides here and there. The wind carried faint sounds of their tinkling bells to us. In contrast, far below us winding like a rope amid this incredible pastoral scene, was the curving, zig-zagging narrow road that is the greatest upward climb for the cyclists competing in the Tour de France. Wow!
Soon this part of the pass will be closed for the winter.
I only hope our photos show just a hint of the majesty of this magnificent place.
1959 – He looks the same today.
