Introduction

Introduction

A bit of preamble. This is a first person account, well first two persons really, of an attempt to paraglide and hike, unassisted, the entire length of the Pyrenees mountains which stretch from the Atlantic Ocean in the west to the Mediterranean Sea in the east, all along the border between France and Spain. It's an old trip that we did back in 2000 and it's interesting to look back and compare, at least in our minds eyes, with some of the kit, techniques etc that the 'lightweights' of today get to use! ;-)

We've never done anything with the write-up which is a shame, imv. I'll try to add some photos later if I can coordinate with Tim, but for now it's more of a short story than a modern multi-media experience (GoPro's weren't invented then... neither was the abacus I suspect).

For the attempt we both flew Nova X-rays, Tim a early gen convertible rucksuck/harness thingy who's manufacturer and model escape me, and myself a mk 1 Sup'Air Randoneuse and Swing 'Mountain Sack'. Between us we carried an assortment of communal and very basic cooking stuff - one tiny gas stove and a blackened kettle for heating water - 1 spoon and 1 mug each. We relied on 'travel lunches' (dried high calorie just add water camping food) for main meals when out of touch with civilisation and chorizo, bread and cheese for breakfasts and lunches. A lightweight tarp went over or under us depending on the weather. Both of us had a sleeping bag, bivvy bag and roll mat. And as I remember, my new Hanwag Basics boots (how daft was taking brand new boots!) were painful for a couple of days but came good after that. We always struggled with sourcing water which should have been predictable in a predominantly limestone area, as any geologist will tell you. This is critical and can easily dictate success or failure of such an endeavour.

All entries are by Tim, except me where indicated.

Enjoy.

Copyright Simon Headford and Tim Guilford, 2000 and 2015

Day 1 - The Border Cafe

Saturday 26th August 2000 - The Border Cafe

Up at 4am after a rushed attempt to pack for vol-biv, then Abi and Simon appeared to drive us to the bus station. Waterloo for 7am then the Eurostar to Paris (how we wished we'd given ourselves an extra day...) where we missed our connecting TGV because it took us at least the advertised 25 minutes just to buy a Metro ticket, let alone make the connection from Paris Gare du Nord to Montparnasse. And beware, vol-biv packs are almost impossible to fit through the barriers. Watched a pick-pocketing attempt on the Metro, and couldn't wait to get out of the city. But re-booking the TGV was easy and we even got a 2ff refund, the reason for which neither of us could fathom. Change at Bordeaux, then on down the coast, paragliders flying the cliffs at Biarritz/Bayonne. Then into Hendaye, where I recognised the benches I had spent the night on some years ago when returning from caving in the Picos mountains. Walked across the border (these pack are far too heavy) into Irun to find a small pension, soon to become known to us as the Border Café. Truck drivers loitered, drank, displayed their tattoos and fought long into the night waiting for the border to open (10pm Sat to 10pm Sun closed to trucks - if you can believe it).

Day 2 - Beer

Sunday 27th August - Beer

Today was dedicated to, well, drinking beer, since the post office was shut and we'd decided it was essential to make our packs lighter and send kit home. Of course we could have done all this at home if only we'd left a day later... But we also made use of the day by catching the bus out to the beach at Hendarabia, taste the sea, and start the walk in. Oh, after a meal and lots of, er, beer in a place we saw first but still spent an hour choosing (a familiar theme to come...). And Simon now carries a shell with him the aim being to drop it on a beach in the Med. Actually, the reason we walked was because we missed the last bus back, but we turned it around and made it part of the grand plan. Brandy night cap at the border café, and to sleep under rainy skies.

Day 3 - Start (well, sort of)

Monday 28th August - Start (well, sort of)

The day dawned a bit brighter and with an Easterly wind. Not that we saw it of course. No early starts for what are fast becoming known to each other as 'the Crap Vol-biv Pilots'. Off to the post office, then the search for maps as we'd left our French ones at home and only had a road map. This time we were lucky and found the Catalan guide to the GR11, complete with detailed topo's, excellent if a little restricted in range. Initial route finding difficulties and a few café stops later, we were climbing up to our first water point at San Marcial where we finally remembered to take a GPS reading. Not long beyond we found an East facing slope with bomb-out and spent a couple of hours contemplating a launch. This really is the dicey bit... How to treat the conditions. It's windy, so really it's a very British choice, but the wind is in the wrong direction for progress along the GR11. So we eventually make what I think was a sensible choice, and walk on. But this isn't without the frustration of realising that across the valley, on the HRP (high altitude trail), is what would probably have made a much better launch mountain. But with such loads and on foot you are soon committed.

Tea in the woods, then on up to the Collado de Erlaitz at 450m where we again searched in vain for a good launch spot for the morning when high pressure had been predicted. But it was all too committing (ie dangerous) or the background wind was too strong. And f***ing power-lines everywhere! So we walked down to the San Anton dam. Lou phoned at the 7pm, 3-day, check-in, and the weather in Britain sounds great... The descent to the dam was an adventure, most notably for the 'sheep-dip traverse'. This is a conduit for water from a lake through a long series of tunnels and ledges down to Irun. And it has a narrow, in places very narrow, retaining wall perched precipitously over a forested plunge into a gorge. It was, for me, a true test of will over vertigo and went on for at least 30 minutes, and pretty much into darkness. Half the time a smaller additional wall on the right half made walking a monstrous balancing act a serious trial and I was reduced to having my right foot on the elevated section like a deformed old man hobbling along. But we made it, and down to the gorge where towards the end erosion of the path left no option but a heather gripping traverse along the road. Camp spot was nice, but very dewy, both outside and inside the bivvy bags, and to make matters worse we'd chosen a spot where the morning sun refused to penetrate as it crept up behind an inclined ridge of crenelated rock, tantalising us by warming the trees immediately behind, but never our dripping gear. Tonka-tonka-tonka of the horses with cow-bells all night.

Day 4 - Unsuitable take-offs

Tuesday 29th August - Unsuitable take-offs

We began with a tortuous walk up a lost path (actually it was there all along, but we didn't find it 'till we'd almost reached the col). Hot, sunny, and very humid. Turbulent, gusty thermals piled up a slope on our right, and we considered launching but eventually headed on, via San Anton (an unsuitable take-off) to yet another unsuitable take-off. Small trees lined the slope in front of us so no visibility, lots of rotor and few options for error. OK so the layout was fine, and indeed we saddled up nervously. But this really was desperate, trying to take off behind trees! Eventually as the thermals waned we gave in and packed up. By the time we had finished it was blowing over the back. Then a long walk down into Vera de Bidasoa (which we could have reached in less than a day). Frustrated but having learned a lesson we booked into a hostel, met a Swiss man walking the other way (carrying just 10kg!) and steadily got pissed. I woke up the next morning with a half-full glass of VSOP by my bed, and poor weather.

Day 5 - Progress of sorts

Wednesday 30th - Progress of sorts

The day started with a long slow series of coffees, and another attempt to dump ballast - lots of useless batteries, Simon's back protection** and a note-book we had bought just two days before. So a second box sent back to Britain. Definitely Crap Vol-biv Pilots. A long climb up farm tracks, then an unnecessary detour via the top of the Santa Barbara ridge (Simon's crap navigation) and down into a serious rain shower. We decided to build a shelter and to start eating chorizo and cheese. Up and down the GR11 to reach a bar on the France/Spain border where we bought plastic water bottles to decant wine into. Oh, and we went caving in an old mine and got hit by bats. The day ended near border point 50 where we were undecided whether to follow the HRP towards a good looking TO or to drop down along the GR11, we chose the latter, past some huge pigs and a surly farmer, to climb up again to a great camping spot under oak trees next to an old war-time bunker (Caserio Gorra). Weird big flat rocks, lots of fire wood, and our best biv yet.

** in my defense, I contrived alternative protection using mousse outer, sleeping bag and carry-mat. [SH]

Day 6 - Flying! (of sorts)

Thursday 31st August - Flying! (of sorts)

It dawned windy, from the NW. We walked, contouring the hills, thinking we might diverge along the HRP rather than follow the GR11. Incidentally the packs are still damn heavy. We decided to take a look, and indeed found a potential West facing bowl which convinced us to try and fly. This time we did it, even though it was rather too windy in the middle of the day. Simon launched first, and it was rough and sinky despite the wind strength. It took him, then later me, a good half an hour to get back up the hill because of the burnt bush velcro effect on our glider lines. This was a seriously challenging time - trying to assess a totally new flying site. The wind was apparently on the face, but actually off to the North, very hard to tell. We didn't fly well, but it was a hurdle surmounted but we decided it worth staying here for the night to see what the conditions were like in the morning. We bivvied in a copse, got crapped on by caterpillars then it dawned clear and sunny. Beautiful mist in the valleys and a 5mph Westerly up the face. Probably too windy, but we were going to try it.