Hors Sentier

‘Hors Sentier’ means ‘off trail',’ or ‘off path,’ or ‘What the hell are you doing up here? There is no path you Muppet!'’

Skiers may recognise the words from the phrase ‘Hors piste,’ or ‘off piste.’ A phrase bandied around by rugged, sun-tanned skiers and ski guides as they share tales of daring exploits away from the piste bashed runs over a Vin Chaud after a hard days skiing (boy is that a long sentence!).

We came across the phrase in a guide book we bought called Crêtes - 45 Courses Faciles à Difficiles. Very loosely translated this means ‘45 Ridge walks and climbs from easy to you are going to die.” Our kind of book. So we parted with our €16 and pondered our first foray into ridge walks in the Pyrenees.

We chose an easy one. A mere 5 hrs and 20 minutes and 1150m (3,772 ft) of ascent.

At some point, a couple of hours into the “walk”, we came to the conclusion that the author of this particular route had never done it. The book says, “In the second clearing turn right, off trail (hors sentier) and climb, at first laboriously, through the rhododendrons and blueberries." And, to paraphrase, “At the end of 1 hour and 50 minutes and 500m you will find yourself on the summit.” Will we bo****ks! It took us over an hour just to fight our way up the first 150m of dense undergrowth. We didn’t need a compass, we needed a machette!

Mrs P in full Hors Sentier mode

When we eventually came to a less vegitated section it became clear that we should’ve used a bit of hindsight (strangely not mentioned in the book) for a perfectly feasible path crossed our ‘Hors bloody sentier’ route and would’ve taken half the time. This real path is carefully disguised in the book by careful cropping of the map graphic.

Mrs P deduced that the author had only ever visted the route on Google Maps. On Google maps it looks perfectly sensible. However, Google maps can’t see the tangle of shrubbery ‘hors sentier.’ So, lesson learned, or so we thought, we tackle the trudge up to the summit. We sensibly ignore the near vertical scree slope recommended by the book and take a rising traverse (through more stupid brambles) up to an unavoidable gully. This gully is rather steep. Filled with scree and requires a method of walking known as one step back for every two up.

The scar to the left of the peak is the route we took up. Horrid stuff.

We finally arrive on the summit, somewhat shy of the suggested 1 hour and 50 miuntes, 3 hours and 30 minutes after leaving the van! But, a beautiful looking ridge stretched out ahead of us, just like in the book (where the author has photoshopped an image of himself into the picture). Stunning views of the high peaks that border France and Spain and a simply wonderful view of la Brèche de Roland. Our spirits lift. The ridge looks straightforward from here. We partake a light lunch. Take a selfie or two…

Are we having fun yet?

…and continue. The ridge is simple. No path, but not difficult. A bit like a grassy Striding Edge. Until that is you get to the high point of the ridge, the Tuque Esparbère (2291m). The book says something about using your hands. Yet another very steep gully full of choss (loose, unstable scree and rock). We had now graduated to the 3 steps up to 2 down principle of gully scrambling. There was no nice rock to grab hold of and, horror of horrors, once on the top you had to come back down the way you had come to regain the ridge. Unless you had a parachute. The view from the top really was no better than on the other parts of the ridge and the quality of scrambling definitely wasn’t worth the detour.

The Tuque Esparbère (2291m). Least said, soonest mended.

5 1/2 hours in and we are only a bit more than half way along the ridge. Mrs P decides to state the bleedin’ obvious, "This is a rubbish walk.” she says. I can only agree. I am of course too much of a gentleman to point out that she chose the route (Oh no I’m not!). I do, more helpfully, point out that it is at least considerably better than a day in any office.

Discretion being the better part of valour we decide to ignore the book and look to the map for an escape route. We find an easy way off the ridge and join up with a section of slightly more recognisable path. After almost 8 hours(!!) we arrive back at Gandalf. Even Gandalf had a tough day. The road up was a dirt track. Quite steep and narrow. 2nd gear all the way! He loved it.

The ridge was mostly very pleasant

For the following 2 days we decided to lick our wounds with some lovely, easy rock climbing at a place called Falaise d’escalade de L’Arrayoulet. A beautiful climbing area near Arrens-Marsous. If we are ever able to move to France this place, or Argeles-Gazost, lower down the same valley, are high on the list of contenders for a home. Climbing, mountaineering, cycling, skiing. Just lovely (don’t mention Brexit!).

Topo of the climbs provided at the roadside

The climbing was great (easy grades. From 3 to 5c) and I got to practice with the Go-Pro my friend Graham lent me for the trip. The results were terrible. Lots of hand flailing in front of the camera and dizzying shots of up, then down, then up, then at the rock etc. Good news though, I can only improve.

At the end of our second day climbing, just as we were leaving, we encountered a couple who were just arriving. We chatted briefly and the man, Patrick Dupouey and his wife (unfortunately I didn’t get her name) gave us a copy of a book of mountain routes he had written back in 1983 - Escalades au Pic Du Midi D’Ossau. It turns out that aside from being an accomplished mountaineer and author of mountain literature Monsieur Dupouey is also a professor of philosophy. What a lovely gesture from a lovely couple. The kindness of strangers should never be underestimated.

Patrick Dupouey (and Mrs D)

The weather has begun to deteriorate. We are now in the middle of an unsettled few days. What to do? I know. Let’s go to the zoo.

Zoos are contentious places. They divide people’s opinions and Mrs P was a bit dubious, but this zoo turned out to be about as excellent as a zoo can be. A brilliant 4 hours was had by all despite the rain, as we explored the Parc Animaler des Pyrenees. Mrs P grinned as the marmots were fed. grinned as the bears were fed, grinned at the otters, gibbons, wolves and grinned when she was fed too. By the end of the day Strava said that we walked 8.5 miles and grinned at many, many animals, birds and other fawna (and a bit of flora too). Mrs P’s jaw was aching from all the grinning. always a sign of a successful day. Well worth the €20 each to get in.

Below are just a few photos that will hopefully make you smile too.

Today, Thursday 2nd September, we are sitting out the grey weather in a lovely little (and cheap) campsite near Bagnères-de-Bigorre. A lazy day. I feel a pizza coming on.

This place looks promising

Oh yes!