lunes, 28 de julio de 2014

GR 11 Aragonesa. Día 2: Forcau Alto- Biados. Subida a las Forquetas (3004 y 3007 mts) // GR 11 in Aragón. Day 2: Forcau Alto-Biados. Summit on the Forquetas (3004 & 3007 metres).


"La felicidad humana no se logra con grandes golpes de suerte, que suceden raramente, sino con pequeñas cosas que ocurren todos los días". Benjamin Franklin.

Please, scroll down to the end of this entry for the English version. 


La gente comienza a pasar en dirección al Posets bien temprano, y yo, que no he pasado demasiada buena noche me despierto. Puede ser que una piedra en mis riñones bajo la tienda tuviera algo de culpa jejejeje. Hace fresquito, son las 6 am, ya hace un rato que el sol ilumina las cimas. Hago un amago de salir pero me arrepiento nada más pisar la hierba. Hace frío. Poco a poco nos desperezamos, salimos del nidito y desayunamos. Pasa un señor buscando a unos amigos y desentrañamos el misterio de la noche anterior. Al parece un grupo que llegaban a horas diferentes habían quedado en el desvío de las  GR la noche anterior. No se encontraron, e iban locos en varios grupos buscándose por el monte. Al final alguno durmió cerca de nosotros y otra gente al otro lado.
Recogemos la tienda, desayunamos, preparamos la mochila y salimos hacia el collado de Eriste. Al cruzar por el barranco nos aseamos en el río, lo primero es ir bien limpio :) .


Se nota que estamos al principio de la ruta, nos encontramos frescos y fuertes. La subida se hace amena, al ritmo Antón que marca Isabel. Poco a poco y sin darnos cuenta estamos en el Ibón de la Llardaneta y las vistas del circo son majestuosas. Todavía más de medio está congelado y hay mucha nieve, pero no se ven necesarios los crampones, se puede evitar toda. Vamos rodeándolo y se ve la subida final y las Forquetas a nuestra izquierda, nuestro objetivo de hoy. Poco a poco, por un sendero mejor marcado de lo que parecía desde abajo alcanzamos el collado (2964 mts). Siempre es un momento especial llegar a una divisoria entre valles y ver las esplendidas vistas hacia ambos lados, un pequeño placer montañés. Has llegado hasta allí cin tu esfuerzo y ahora queda disfrutar de lo conseguido. Una postal de lujo grabada para siempre en nuestras retinas.


De aquí a la cima de la Forqueta o pico Alto de Turets (3007 mts) tenemos una pequeña ascensión muy poco técnica y bien marcada. Hay una chimenea a mitad con pasos II, pero la podemos evitar dando un rodeo por la derecha. Suele estar marcada con hitos. De ahí a la cumbre sólo queda seguir un sendero que se intuye, por roca suelta. Después a la brecha que separa las dos cimas y hacia la Forqueta SE. Decidimos hacerlo todo por la cresta, aunque por la derecha bajando se intuye un sendero, un paso de II expuesto y otro tresmil a la saca. Fotos y más fotos, alegría y felicidad!! El día claro nos depara unas panorámicas increíbles de la cresta de las espadas y el Posets, los Eristes, Biados... No nos regodeamos mucho, y bajamos hacia el collado como rayos. Hemos escondido la mochila en una chimenea y se nota  el ir ligero. Sube bastante gente, al menos nos cruzamos con 6 personas más hacia la cima y varios suben al collado. Recuperamos todo y emprendemos la eterna bajada hacia el refugio son 1250 mts de desnivel...



Empezamos el descenso con un largo nevero, donde unos chicos de Bilbao que suben con un palo de los de antes, nos dicen que nos queda "una bajada agradable" jajajajajaja. Menos mal, si llega a ser desagradable, pero vamos son de Bilbo y están hechos de otro material :) No vemos necesario poner crampones ni piolet, la nieve esta noble y se deja descender con seguridad. Risas, resbalones y seguimos bajando esta vez por piedras. Parada técnica para coger fuerzas. Nos situamos en un momento en el cruce con el sendero que sube a los ibones de Millars. Decidimos comer aquí con los colosales Espadas frente a nosotros. Una nubes muy feas se nos echan encima así que reanudamos la marcha a mitad de refrigerio y seguimos con la peregrinación, esta vez por un terreno más bonito entre pinos, abetos y otros árboles. Muy pronto estamos junto al rio Zinqueta y nos remojamos los pies que están doloridos después de todo el día dándole.
Al final llegamos al refugio a eso de las 15h, con mucho tiempo para ducharnos, hacer algo de colada, poner la tienda a secar, hablar con una chica muy maja Nuria de valencia (que nos dio un par de ideas geniales) y descansar un rato tirados. Este va a ser el único día que acabemos la jornada a una hora razonable en el refugio, entre que no somo mucho de madrugar y que las etapas son largas, al final se nos hizo tarde muchos días.


La cena, la compañía fueron maravillosas, la ducha caliente increíble y lo bien que dormimos por la noche no tiene parangón. Biadós en resumen un diez, majos atentos y las instalaciones más que correctas.
Otro día maravilloso de montaña, agreste y escarpada pero a la vez amable y sincera. Somos muy felices y se nos nota... Pronto seguiremos la aventura hasta Parzán :)

English version

The dawn has not broken yet when the first mountaineers begin to pass by our little encampment, discussing how nice and snuggle it looks. We were camped right next to the GR 11.2 (the GR 11 goes along the Estos valley), which also happens to be the main route up one of the highest peaks in the Pyrenees, mount Posets. We are awake and we are rested (enough). Jose is up like a shot (as usual) and I linger a little bit longer (also as usual) in the sleeping bag. The night might have been warm, but the temperature descends quite noticeably as the dawn approaches, and the morning is chilly. I finally manage to muster enough courage to leave the (relative) comfort of the tent as the first sun rays hit it. It does not take us long to pack our rucksacks, eat our breakfast and break camp.

Onwards and upwards! We set off at around 7:30 am right where we left it the previous evening, following the white and read signs up an easy wall (if you can even call it that). We make the first stop by the river, next to what used to be a metal bridge; probably destroyed this or the past winter by snow or the river itself. We had no fresh water where we planted our tent and it is time for our toilette. Teeth are brushed, contact lenses go in, face is washed and sunscreen is applied; it promises to be a hot day again.

We pick up the pace up the path towards the Llardaneta tarn (2676 m). Half way up we meet a mountaineer who is following the GR 11 in the opposite direction; that is, from the Cantabric to the Mediterranean sea (as we discovered as we went on, most people choose to do it in this direction). It is a clear, sunny day, and the views of mount Posets, its main way up the Canal Fonda and the famous crest of the Espadas (swords in English) are truly splendid. To our right, a couple of steep, rugged peaks call to us; we are both fixated on a steep couloir which may be "climbable" in winter. Who knows, we may come back here soon.

The walk to the Llardaneta tarn is nice and easy. The path climbs up slowly but surely and we get there before we know it. We are in July but there are ice blocks floating in the water; it seems we won't we going for a swim any time soon in these freezing waters. In fact, the wind is picking up again and it is beginning to feel chilly again. We stop to put some warm clothes on and continue bordering the tarn to the right (as we old mountaineers say, "in the mountain, the lazy one is the first to die"). There is still quite a lot of snow left and we wonder if we'll find any on they way up the col of Eriste (2860 m); we know we'll find snow on the way down on the other side. We have packed a pair of crampons and an ice axe each just in case, but we don't fancy the work of adjusting and putting them on.

It is too cold to stop so we leave the tarn behind and walk past a few tents, which must belong to the people attempting the crest of Espadas this morning. I bet they were colder than us last night. Jose wants to press on to the top of the col of Eriste but I am feeling a bit tired, so we stop for a short rest. We eat some nuts and dried fruit (dried apricots can be a real life saver when you need a quick calorie fix), as we eye the ascent. There is snow on both sides of the path but the path itself is clear; looks like we won't be using our crampons and ice axes for now. The ascent did look trickier that it really was. The terrain was loose soil and small rocks but it was not too slippery.

We get to the top in great time considering our rucksacks weight around 13-15 kg each. The col of Eriste crosses the mountain range which divides the Eriste and Gistain/Chistau valleys. To our left, two peaks in the low 3000s, the Forquetas, lie temptingly near to where we are now standing. The decision is taken; we climb up a few meters and hide the rucksacks behind a huge rock. Without them, we simply fly up to reach both summits in no time at all. The Forqueta which is the farthest from the col poses a slightly bigger challenge than the nearest one; challenge which becomes slightly more complicated when I insist on following the very ridge to the top. In the end Jose comes to the rescue and shows me a much more sensible (not to mention safe) way up. Two minutes to hug, kiss, take a photo and admire the views of the peaks of Eriste and the Posets crest, and off we go to the second Forqueta (more hugs, kisses, views and photos). We fly down back to our rucksacks, not without leading Jose down the wrong path (yet again) and underneath a small cave in the rock which makes him assume a tricky position to avoid a 200 meter fall down the side of the mountain.

With our rucksacks back on our backs, we begin what would become a very, very, very long descent, regardless of what a couple of Basques told us near the top. The conversation went as follows: Me (being encouraging; not that Basque mountaineers need encouragement) - "not long to the top now!"; one of the Basques - "it's a nice and easy (relaxed) way down to the Biados shelter too!"; me (knowing how damnably hard the way down was) - "are you being funny?"; the Basque - "course I am not being funny, it's such as nice, pleasant walk down to Biados!". Conclusion, never trust a Basque mountaineer when they tell you that you are nearly there; chances are not only that you are not nearly there, but that you will have to go to hell and back before you get there (wherever there happens to be). In truth, the way down from the col of Eriste (2860 m) to Biados (1724 m) was as long and painful as I remembered.

We leave the tough, if very friendly, Basques behind and half walk, half ski down the first 200 meters down from the col of Eriste, which are north facing and are covered in snow. The snow is nice and soft at this time (near midday) and we again decide against wearing our crampons. The steep slope gives us a break at one point and we stop for a quick bite and a bit of water. We can see some clouds coming in from the other side of the valley and we don't want to risk getting wet on our second day. The path follows the right edge of the stream. Our legs are not too tired yet so we make good progress. We are very close  to the Millares tarn (about 30 minutes away), which is such a beautiful place from which I have such happy memories, but the weather feels like it may turn so we press on down.

After over an hour of "pleasant" descent (not!), we stop to gulp down (literally) our lunch, as the sun is gone and the clouds are gathering over our heads in force. From this point, the stones and gravel make way for the grass and pine trees. We can see the Biados guarded shelter from here and the valley is absolutely charming (I spent many a summer with my parents in this place when I was little). The shepherds' huts or bordas, as they are called in Spain, are scattered here and there, and the meadow is full of flowers. When you get to the bottom of the valley, do resist the temptation of heading straight for the river, as you will be obliged to follow its course up to the bridge, or else get wet trying to wade across it. We follow the path to the right, which leads us up a bit and straight to the wooden bridge across the river Zinqueta. It is quite early in the afternoon and we are hot and tired, so we take our boots off and cool our poor feet down in the freezing waters of the river. Ten more minutes and we are in Biados.

What to say of Biados; a lovely shelter, manned by lovely people who show us to our room and make us feel really welcome. We had not been able to have a shower the previous night, so this one feels amazing. We wash some of our dirty clothes, extend the tent to dry it and lazily lay around on the grass. When it becomes too cold to be outside, we sit in the sitting room/restaurant with a cup of cocoa, and meet a lovely girl from Valencia called Nuria. We spend hours chatting and laughing as we all wait for dinner. The food is tasty and plentiful (we are all starving after the day's exercise): soup, greenbeans and potatos, and meatballs. I am enjoying every minute of the GR 11!

We are tired so we brush our teeth and go to bed early (everyone does really). Today has been a hard day and our muscles are starting to feel the strain. We share our room with 6 more mountaineers, who do not snore! We are given two spaces on the top deck of a double bunk bed, and we sleep like babies. Tomorrow will be another day but, for now, it is time to rest.

To be continued...

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