Waking Up in Góriz and Deciding How to Get Out
I opened my eyes, looked out the window, and saw a garden dormouse climbing up the wall of Góriz shelter. Of the 4 lower bunks in our room, mine was the only one directly facing the window. So every time the light came on in the room next door, I woke up. And when the morning light started pouring abruptly through the window, I was the first one awake. Basically, I had slept like absolute shit. A little after six in the morning. That was how our fourth and final day crossing the Pyrenees began.
Luckily, I turned around and saw Diego also awake, with the face of someone who had slept even less than me. Whenever I sleep near someone and they look like they have had a terrible night, the question is always the same: "Did I snore a lot?". The answer was a firm "Yes", but that was not the main reason. He had simply slept badly, end of story. We decided we could go down for breakfast without waking the others, who looked like they were sleeping like logs. So once again, like ninjas, we got dressed, put our boots on, and went down for breakfast.
Breakfast at the refuge was great: an all-you-can-eat buffet of coffee, ColaCao, juice, toast, and muffins. Obviously, we stuffed ourselves, and then the wardens asked us which way we were planning to descend to the Ordesa Meadow. The day before, Joshua and I had already come up with 4 options:
- Go and see the Brecha de Roland, then descend via the Faja de las Flores to the Ordesa Meadow (the ideal plan, and also the hardest and longest)
- Go straight to the Faja de las Flores and descend to the Ordesa Meadow
- Descend to the Ordesa Meadow via the Cotatuero clavijas
- Descend directly from the shelter to the Ordesa Meadow, then walk the whole valley back to the car
The first 3 options shared the same initial path, so we thought it made sense to head towards Pico del Descargador and make decisions depending on how much strength we had left. But then came our first almost-problem. Apparently, the wardens told us that the Faja de las Flores had been closed by the national park because there were snow patches and, well, there is a 1000-metre drop. You might hurt yourself a bit. Luckily, the day before we had spoken with a really nice guy from Cantabria who told us he had gone up that way without knowing it was closed and that, yes, there was a snow patch, but it could be bypassed easily and the passage was safe.
When Joshua and Ernesto finally came down for breakfast, we had a second breakfast and shared what we had found out. We decided we would try to go via the Faja de las Flores, and as for the Brecha de Roland, we would see. Joshua had already seen some sections, and he thought descending via the clavijas looked very dangerous, considering their verticality, the tricky steps, and the handicap of carrying the dead weight on our backs after 4 days. So that was that. We went upstairs to collect our sleeping bags and belongings from the room, and told the shelter staff that once we saw what the snow patches looked like, we would send them a photo.
Towards Descargador: Heat, Marmots, and First Decisions
Time to get moving. We said goodbye to the shelter for the last time, and it was already ridiculously hot. First stop, obviously: the spring. We filled enough water for the day and started along the path towards the Brecha de Roland. I have no idea how many marmots we counted. All of them. The place was full of burrows and they popped out curiously to watch us walk by, or ran away in panic if we got too close. Ernesto was also identifying all kinds of birds, and we also spotted the odd "berreco" (I could say "rebeco", which would be the proper word, but I prefer "berreco"). The first climb felt a bit heavy, not because it was especially steep (sorry, pindia), but because the heat was heavy, the backpack was heavy, the 4 days were heavy, and everything was heavy. Even more so when we had to cross a series of scree slopes, which started reminding me of the llambrias in Picos de Europa, Joshua's favourites.
Then came the moment when the path split in two directions: either continue towards the Brecha de Roland, or head towards the second junction between the Faja de las Flores and the Cotatuero clavijas. Joshua was very clear that seeing the Brecha was worth it. Diego and I were up for going to a point where we could leave the backpacks and try to climb up to the Brecha and come back down, like we had done the day before with Monte Perdido. Joshua and Ernesto agreed they would head towards the Faja path and we would meet them there, walkies on, estimating around 3 hours until we were back together. At first I thought: "There is no way in hell we are going to find each other". Not because I doubted anyone, but because I have seen too many films and this stuff never goes smoothly. Either someone falls, or a walkie runs out of battery, or there is no signal, or the aliens arrive. Time would tell.
The Brecha de Roland: Since We Have Come This Far
And so, we split from our rope team companions: some heading towards the Brecha de Roland, the others looking for shade to wait for us calmly. Diego and I began another climb, stopping at a waterfall to drink some water and eat something. As we walked, the Brecha started appearing in the distance and, as Joshua had said, it looked like it was worth getting closer to see it. That brought us to the next turning point. We had to decide whether to climb all the way up, leaving the backpacks behind, or say "Well, it looks pretty good from here", and go off to eat with our companions. Without even thinking, I threw my backpack on the ground and said to Diego, listen, let's just get closer to that rock to see what the climb looks like, and then we decide. I swear that was my intention but, have you seen Forrest Gump? "Since I have come this far... I might as well go over there". And that is how I tricked Diego almost by accident until we reached a point where he was the one who said, "No, no, since we are already here, we are going all the way up, for fuck's sake". And by counting steps 100 at a time and breathing, we reached the Brecha, making a track along the right-hand slope of the jou. It was a hard climb, an area full of snow with the sun beating down, probably around 12 or 1 pm, and it felt like an oven, but we made it.
After the obligatory photos to prove we were not lying, we made a quick butt-ski descent, possibly one of the last of the season, recovered our backpacks, and went to see if we could find our companions. We crossed paths with a group of 3 who told us that farther ahead we had an interesting downclimb, then we would need to cross the wetland to reach the place where our friends were supposedly waiting. We did not smash ourselves to pieces, crossed the wetland at military pace, switched on the radios half an hour later than planned and... jackpot, we found them. There were Joshua and Ernesto, fresh as lettuces after lying around doing absolutely nothing under an improvised shade made with sticks and ingenuity.
The Faja de las Flores: The Final Gift of the Traverse
Back together as a group of 4, we looked for some shade to eat in peace. We crossed a slightly ugly area full of cracks and rocks while trying to save a bit of elevation, and found our spot. Sitting in the shade, we demolished our last chorizo and fuet of the traverse. We put on sunscreen and kept going. The next stop was clear: entering the Faja de las Flores. Joshua was telling us about his experience from when he had been in the area years before, and my expectations were very high. They were still not high enough.
The Faja de las Flores is, to this day, one of the most spectacular mountain sections I have ever done in my life. The day was on our side, the company was also on our side (in a good way), our physical strength was still holding, everything we had lived through in the previous days was there with us, and all of it added up to this ending. To our left, the Cotatuero Cirque, and little by little the end of the Ordesa Valley began to appear, all with a 1000-metre drop beside a path that was sometimes quite narrow, but very comfortable if you are used to walking in the mountains. I did not know where to take photos. Some waterfalls cooled us down along the way and we started getting phone signal, so we could let our loved ones know we were still alive after spending quite a while without coverage. We stopped for a break in some shade, and Joshua's face with his eyes closed was pure harmony with the moment. Absolutely incredible.
The Carriata Clavijas and the Endless Descent
Once we reached the end of the Faja, the final challenge awaited: descending 1000 metres of elevation with steep downclimbs over a very short distance. Including two fairly awkward points: the Carriata clavijas, easier than the Cotatuero ones but still, if you took a proper fall there, you were not telling the story afterwards. Some of us decided to downclimb them without a rope because it looked fun, although the safest option was always to rappel down, as others did. Especially because, being already on the final stretch, it would have been pretty tragic to take the big hit right there. Once those two points were behind us, all that remained was a path that slowly turned into mid-mountain terrain, a beautiful closed forest in the shade where all we could think about was reaching the cars, since our knees were starting to complain and some blister was probably trying to pop out from our feet to say hello.
And that is how we reached the car at around 8 in the evening. Whole, tired, happy, and grinning from ear to ear. And the cars were still there, covered in pollen, but still there. We took a quick shower and, seeing the time, we went ahead to book somewhere for dinner. On top of that, Diego and I booked a hotel because just thinking about setting up the "bed" in the Subaruneta made us impressively lazy. Compared with an endless hot shower and the comfort of a normal mattress, we decided it was worth the money and that we had bloody earned it. Also, importantly, we could charge ALL the batteries for our cameras so we could keep immortalising moments from the 2 remaining days of the trip.
La Cordada de los Cabrones
There we were, the 4 of us, eating burgers, drinking beer, noses red from the sun, tired, and happy. Very happy. Honestly, when the trip began, we never doubted we could do it. Weather or adverse situations were another matter, but in terms of ability and motivation, we had plenty. When you are climbing one hell of a slope for the 1000th time, doubts creep in: "Will I make it to the top?" But not when you have such fucking great people beside you, people you meet in the most absurd way and at the most absurd time, and who just happen to share the same taste as you in one very specific thing. Joshua would later put it like this:
Each one from a completely different background, some wanting to go one way and others another. Some wanting to jump and others to swim. Sometimes we fell, other times we pulled off a pirouette and held on.
And the truth is that all four of us had shitty moments and moments of getting angry. All four of us had moments of thinking "Fuck this shit, let's go to the Parador", whether we said it out loud or not. And in every one of those moments, you looked around and saw 3 other idiots just like you, climbing and pushing on and cracking jokes and finding solutions and giving encouragement and sweating and suffering as much as you, or more. There is probably some beautiful word for that, and it will be in the RAE dictionary. I could look for that word, but I will stick with my version. And I am sure everyone has their own way of saying it. For me, it is called La Cordada de los Cabrones. I dedicate these first four blog posts to them (I hope to write a few more). Because they were my "ham" for 4 days.
Tracks, Data, and Video
Route and Data for the Day
Video of the Day's Route
360° videos must be watched directly on YouTube — embedded players don't support interactive 360° viewing.
Watch on YouTubeRoute and Data for the Full Traverse
Video summary of the full traverse, by Joshua
Greetings
To you, who have read these 4 posts this far. To everyone who encouraged me to write this, to those who took the photos, to those who looked at them, to those who gave their opinion, to those who watched the videos. Here is to many more.
