Posets – surge to the summit

Another day, another mountain, Posets was the second highest peak in the Pyrenees at 3369m, and today we would try to reach the top.

A head torch went on in the room, followed by another and another. Excited chatter erupted, not the normal whispers you would expect when surrounded by sleeping people, proper chatter. It was 06:10 am. People started moving about, the main light was turned on! The guy next to me, grinned and then pulled his blanket over his head, we might as well get up!

We let the ‘party’ continue to get dressed and wash in the en-suite. When the lights were once again off we dressed, gathered our things, washed and left. We felt sorry for the late arrivals from last night who were still trying to sleep.

The free kitchen was deserted. Our small stove was soon roaring noisily, heating the water for our coffee. Breakfast was pan de leche (milk bread) and cake. Others were having the refuge breakfast, similar to ours, Magdalenas and other cakes and coffee, but expensive at €6.90. We finished, packed up the stove, prepared the lunch and headed downstairs to the lockers and our walking boots.

The inconsiderate one from earlier, who had turned on the lights and made all the noise, was heading off with his wife. Both dressed in green tops, they were in their early fifties, they should have known better (turning the lights on, not the green tops)! Several other couples were also around us, preparing for the day. We stepped outside to see our surroundings for the first time.

The sun was just appearing, it was going to be another glorious day. We had been so fortunate with the weather considering it was late October.

Once over the ridge we got a better view of the landscape; sparse vegetation, barren, rocks and boulders littered the terrain, a car crash of a mountain.

It would create some interesting walking.

We set off and were immediate followed by two further pairs. They were in a hurry and quickly overtook us. We continued at our normal pace with the green tops five minutes ahead.

Another pair had caught up with Susana and were pushing to overtake, they were however able to point out the path to Posets, a bit confusing as the marker was showing straight on, the route for the GR11! We headed upwards. Ahead of us, but below, the green tops had seen they were on the wrong route and were now scrambling across boulders to get back to our path.

We followed the green tops up a slope, not paying attention to our route. A silly mistake. Down below us, in the gully, pairs of trekkers were heading up a different route. We knew we were on the wrong path. We immediately turned back and five minutes later we reached the gully and followed the crowd. The green tops continued hoping to traverse around and pick up the gully later.

B

The gully had the worst possible path, small rocks and boulders and occasionally scree. Dangerous for the ankle and a tense situation for the leg muscles as the ground would slip and give as you made your way upwards. It was a time consuming and an unpleasant terrain.

The gully was also extremely long, and littered with trekkers, who would forge past you at great speed and then stop on the path resting as you attempted to negotiate a plodding path back around them.

This perpetual leap frogging would become a theme of the day.

Eventually the end of the gully was in sight, a gaggle of walkers clustered at the top, we dawdled through, not stopping.

Now before us lay a long shallow ridge, still littered with scree!

We continued upwards, only two or three couples ahead, most were still taking breaks in the gully.

Higher up and the ridge lost its scree. The crest was an easy scramble. Was that the green tops ahead of us? Had they managed after all to traverse back into the gully?

We reached the top, it was not the middle aged couple. Were they laying, stricken at the base of some cliff, the vultures peaking at their flesh?

There were two other pairs here. We asked someone to take the obligatory summit photo, marvelled at the clear, clear view and settled down to lunch. It had taken 3 hours to get the top, a far easier walk than Aneto two days before.

Lunch was made entertaining as we watched couples negotiate the rocky ridge as they neared the summit.

It was still a spectacular view.

We were not looking forward to the return, all that scree. We also wanted to negotiate it without the crowds, we left just as we were joined by six others on the summit, it was getting quite crowded.

As promised there had been no snow on the route, we were travelling light, no ice axe or crampons were necessary.

We passed several other groups including the green tops, the vultures would have to wait for their lunch! He excitedly told us of their adventures, she looked less impressed, maybe she could foresee an endless retelling of the story, getting more flamboyant each time.

The path down was easier than we thought and we were losing altitude quickly.

And before long we were once again at the bottom of the gully and heading back towards the refuge. We had completed the three peaks in seven days. We were knackered, but still had to walk back to Dora.

Once at the refuge we were joined by two young men, Jose and Carlos, they were attempting Aneto the next day. They also offered us a lift from the car park down to Dora. As they were a bit quicker than us, we headed off into the trees before them.

It was a rapid descent down through the forest.

This time in daylight.

So we could better appreciate the waterfalls.

Before long Jose and Carlos joined us and they drove us down the horrible track that Dora had so much trouble with.

We gave them some advise on Aneto, especially on the altimeter and the rocky pass (the Portillon Superior). We wished them luck and thanked them for the lift. Our adventures in the Pyrenees were at an end. We had had such a good time and would be sad to see them in Dora’s rear view mirror.

 

GDR