More pictures here!
(Plus a DITL movie of this adventure will be coming when I can get a
strong internet connection.)
Having found a safe spot to rest Salt (the aforementioned
Le Malazeou campground) we decided to test our backpacking endurance with a two
night trek into the French Pyrenees.
Usually our well-planned, well-stocked backpacking trips end early due
to weather; they have never ended early due to a mammalian attack. But I am getting ahead of myself.
We parked at the Etang de Comte parking area just outside
the town of Merens-les-Vals and commenced the gorgeous two-mile hike to our
camping spot above the lake.
Having done a portion of this trail as a day hike a few days ago, we
were well prepared for the almost vertical first ½ mile. But the effort pays off nicely when you reach the alpine meadow and take in the sparkling river tumbling around brightly
colored wildflowers. Rosco upped the enjoyment by jumping in for an early swim.
We arrived at the Etang around 5:00 p.m., carefully
herding The Noses around a group of wild horses grazing at the shoreline, and
selected a tent spot on the hill overlooking the water. There were four or five other tents around
the lake, their occupants already out fishing.
I set about getting our tent, the North Face Minibus 2,
up while SP gathered wood for our fire.
Yes! A camp fire! We haven’t had one since the Shasta/Trinity
area of Northern California last November.
With the fire going, SP went down
to the shore to try a few casts while I kept an eye on The Noses who, thanks to being upwind, had yet to
discover the proximity of the horses.
Unfortunately, backpacking food (i.e. dehydrated) is difficult to come
by out here; I doubt the French language
includes a phrase for “rehydrate your dinner in a tin cup, sit on the
ground and eat while balancing the cup on your knee.” It sure wouldn’t be their cheery, “Bon
Appetit!” But eat we had to do, so we
reheated some spaghetti bolognaise and reconstituted packages of instant mashed
potatoes and asparagus soup for dinner.
Unbelievably, SP had discovered marshmallows at the store so we ended
the meal with fire toasted marshmallows.
(Can’t recommend the pink ones as they tasted like strawberry, but the
white ones tasted like home.)
With the weather due to be clear for three days, we opted
to crawl into the Minibus without the rain fly so we could gaze at the
stars. However, we were so tired we
couldn’t wait for the complete dark (at 10:00 it was still light) and promptly
fell asleep. Much later we awoke, put on
our glasses, and gazed up in wonder; The Noses contentedly snoring away in the
corner.
Near dawn River’s snoring turned to growling and I peeked
out to see the horses at the edge of our camp and moving in. We managed to shoe them away (literally, by
smacking SP’s thongs together) and they trotted up the hillside. Once they were far enough away, or so we
thought, we let The Noses out. River,
who never forgets a nasty smell, charged right up the hill after them. They didn’t take kindly to her obnoxious
barking and moved further up to the ridge where they took a stand and spent the
morning looking down on us. River kept
them in line with an occasional Charge and Bark, but clearly they were just
biding their time.
The weather was as lovely as promised so we set about
preparing for our day hike up to the Etang de Couart. Putting the rain fly on the Minibus, we
stored our extra food, clothes, and the stove inside for safekeeping and headed
up the mountains. What a grueling
hike! After two hours and over a mile of
rocky uphill (some steps higher than my knees!) we were exhausted and stopped
for some lunch and fishing. Fishless no
more; I landed a Brook Trout quite quickly and SP managed to land a
Brown. So we cleaned the fish, packed
them in some icy water and headed back down to camp.
Coming down the mountain we had a clear view of the Etang
and our campsite. To our dismay we could
see that the horses were over for a visit.
We scampered down as quickly as we dared, hoping the herd was not
destroying our site. Tired, we stumbled
into camp to find our beloved Minibus ripped open. Somehow the fly wasn’t damaged--merely tossed
to the side, but the netting was ripped in two places and the stench of manure
and urine was overpowering. My clothing
bag had been dragged out, the deodorant crushed (do wild horses think everyone
should smell as badly as they do?) and the dog packs were strewn around. Maybe they had been after the dog food?
In any event, staying another night was out of the
question. The stench, the additional
flies and the lack of tent netting would have made sleeping impossible. So, tired as we all were, we packed
everything up, put the fish in fresh icy water and headed back to the Pepper.
We made it back to Salt by 7:00 p.m., still plenty of
light in these long, gorgeous days of summer; we showered and headed to the
campground’s restaurant (La Marmotte) for a delicious and easy dinner with a
good dose of house wine.
I have long championed the virtues of day hiking over
backpacking. It will undoubtedly take us
awhile to find a new Minibus; until then, we will get in as many day hikes as possible,
preferably without horses.
-K
PS: We thought the
horses were wild until we noticed two of them sporting bells around their
necks. Clearly they are free to range
all over the mountains, but also clearly, someone wants an occasional update on
their whereabouts.
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