World Andorra Andorra la Vella

Tim's around the world trip

days 6-9 Jun 22, 2006

Day 9-

I didn't get much sleep last night. The wind began howling shortly after I had gone to sleep and by midnight it was blowing steady near 30 MPH with gusts. I only have three tent stakes, so the other guy lines were anchored with rocks. The wind untied them over and over until I finally gave up and fell asleep with the tarp lying on top of me. I awake to the pitter patter of a light rain. I rush to get packed and just as I finish the rain starts heavy and steady. Pic Destats looms above the oblong lake. The rain has given a sheen to the red rock embedded among the green grass clad mountains. I start towards the pic before turning off on my cross country route to refugio Baborte, then on to Tavascan. I walk up a narrow gulley filled with wildflowers and myriad streamlets and waterfalls. I approach my first col of the day and crest to find, under brooding grey skies, a lakes basin tucked in between this col and the next. The biggest lake is a profoundly deep blue that curves lagoon like among green hills and huge slabs of grey rock. My route follows a scree clad gulley. The higher up I get the more ferocious the wind becomes. The ground is spongy from the rain and every now and then I loose my footing and use the opportunity to take a rest and soak in the otherworldly scenery. I make it up to the col and look back to a prehistoric looking landscape. Snow streaked barren peaks top infinite variations of meandering hills, sprawling lakes, and hulking red rock, all embedded in an unvarying green yellow grass. "There should be dinosaurs here" I think, but I see not a one.

The descent has me hopping from one teetering boulder to another as I come to the upper reaches of the Baborte lakes basin topping the steep valley paralleling the one I had ascended last night. The refuge is perched precariously on top of an inverted ice-cream cone of a hill, it glows salmon. I pass four small shallow, startlingly clear lakes before arriving. My bowels pull a fast one on me and have me running up a hill madly searching for a suitable sight. The dark wood interior of the Refugio persuades me that the best thing to do, as the storm rages outside is to roll out my sleeping bag and take a nap. I poke my head outside and see the guys from the refuge last night

"Did you walk all night?" they ask laughing

"You're a monster" Alfredo says

They linger a few minutes before taking off for the same pass I will attack shortly. As soon as they leave the weather deteriorates. As I lay my bones to rest the wind howls and the rain pounds against the shelter. When I awake the skies are clearing and the wind has settled into a nice, steady breeze. I head for my pass. The way is easy, a nice switchback pass cut into the steep shale hillside. I look back to see the bright salmon shelter, the deep river gorge below, and the red green mountains across the way that I had left yesterday.

The valley below is typical of what I have seen so far. Narrow and naturally terraced, lush green creak braided meadows giving relief to the nearly vertical climbs of red and grey rock, against yellow green hillsides. The water here is unbelievably clear and gurgles its way downhill in cascades and riffles.