Gorge descending in the Pyrenees

This is a mixture of swimming, walking, scrambling, abseiling, sliding & jumping down river beds buried deep in gorges and is also known as “canyonning”.

Always on the look out for new forms of outdoor fun & excitement, four of us on the recent Club trip to the Ordesa Canyon area of the Spanish Pyrennees decided to hire a local guide, Louis, for an initiation in the finer points of this popular activity. We were joined by a young French based Japanese couple, who tackled pain & fear with such enthusiasm, that I am sure they would be at home on any Japanese game show.

We were driven out of Torla having collected full wet suits, rubber socks, helmets and harnesses that were like the traditional Whillans harness with a plastic nappy type seat in them & a Via Ferrata style double karabiner device attached. Arriving at our first “level 1” gorge, we pushed & squeezed ourselves into our gear (I had to do this twice as I put my wetsuit on inside out the first time, much to the amusement of my pals). We started off down a 20 foot abseil & made our way down the narrow but picturesque gorge with slides, jumps & abseils with a walkout up a steep GR path at the end (no easy task in a wetsuit).

After an excellent lunch with large local egg & sausage filled bread rolls & beer at a local tavern, we made our way just north of Broto for our second & more serious Grade 2 Barranco (gorge) of the day. This started with a scramble & abseil down the side of a big dam and included a swim with one of the biggest toads I have ever seen (& I don’t mean Nigel). Further on a 70/80 foot abseil down a waterfall & a spectacular 8 metre jump into a small pool (looking about the size of a glass of water from our jumping platform).

Unfortunately, our day came to an end on the outskirts of Broto by a bridge where the road crosses the river as it leaves the gorge.

Louis & our male Japanese pal went to get the vehicles, whilst the rest of us stripped by the side of the road. Our Japanese female companion attracted most attention as she sat on the top of a rock by the roadside. Dressed in a blue bikini & brushing her long black hair, she nearly caused several local (male) drivers to crash at what at first looked like the first ever sighting of a mermaid in the Pyrenees. The two of them bad us farewell as they limped off in their car which had been running on a tank reporting “empty” all day long. We climbed in for our ride back to Torla with thoughts & talk of coming back to do Grade 3 and perhaps trying some routes with our own gear in the future.

In summary – great fun – good alternative to climbing/walking/ mountaineering on a hot day – but well worth getting a guide first time out - both to see how they set everything up & to find the best places – care definitely needs to be taken as deaths occur in this activity every year. The only guide books we could find over there (and there were a few ) were either in Spanish or French, but I am sure there must be some guides in English (perhaps a trip to Stamfords is called for – any excuse!). Wetsuit definitely a big help both to keep you warm in the icy water & to take the sting out of the bigger jumps & slides.

I’m sure we will be back.

Nick on behalf of Kevin, Paul, Nigel & himself.

Trip to the Pyrenees.

For the Club's first official visit to the Spanish side of the range 11 members had rushed to sign up with "Warren Tours Inc." following enthusiastic reports from several members and friends who had previously visited the region.

The expedition started in fine style with supper and bed at Rob's Mum's and a luxury coach (and trailer) to whisk us at some unearthly hour to Gatwick.

A minor delay at Toulouse when the car hire girl announced that she had no more cars was soon resolved. The drive over the mountains to our base camp next to the small town of Torla and alongside the Rio Ara took some time with at least one car taking the "rally" route as a short cut.

Nick had booked an excellent campsite with on site supermarket and bar and the team were soon settled in.

I will not give a detailed account of the whole week, I think another article will give a graphic account of one activity, but just highlight some of the memories that stayed with me.

The first being the thunderstorms that on two nights lit up the valley and boomed and echoed off the surrounding cliffs, accompanied by torrential rain; quite alarming from inside a tent.

The first days walk, of a circuit above the camp, included sighting of what I took to be an eagle but was later revealed to be a species of vulture (still a huge bird), and the eerie metallic keening of a glider passing overhead (I thought this was a silent sport). The descent down a trackless forested mountainside after the path ran out,(don't rely on Spanish maps), with cries of "I've found a path", and replies of "like **** you have" rounded of an interesting day.

We had also had a view into the spectacular Odessa Canyon during the walk so a visit next day starting with a shuttle bus from the town found a combination of towering rock walls enclosing an almost meadow like valley floor together with waterfalls and sections of forest, a magical place.

An attempt on Monte Perdido, the highest peak in the region, left some impressions, such as the night in the mountain hut which got increasingly hot and stuffy as the night wore on and the multi-story bunks swaying about somewhat as people got up to answer nature's call. The route from the hut followed a waymarked path and crossed some patches of snow. These prompted an enthusiastic request from one of the party "Can I put my crampons on, please" and the reply "not yet, try to be patient Paul".

These were eventually needed on the summit approach with several members reaching the top but with varying luck with the view, early cloud taking some time to clear.

Other activities during the week included horseriding, rockclimbing, canyoning, and general exploration of the area.

The week went far too fast but I think everyone had a memorable and enjoyable time. Two final items:- Nigel refusing to believe that Glow-worms were real live insects, and Jeannie's opinion of the drivers employed to park the hire cars which was unprintable.

Thanks to everyone who helped to organise the trip, it was very much appreciated.

Dick

“A little tour of some Welsh peaks”

or “A tour of some little Welsh peaks “

There is no pleasure in driving up late on a Friday night to pitch tent in the wet and dark, probably in a bad place. Why not leave early on a Saturday morning, arrive at Tremadog in time for a full fat breakfast and pitch in the dry and full daylight? No contest, so that is what Andy Young and I did at the beginning of July. After an all too brief glance at the map, we headed off to the delightful hamlet of Croesor where , to quote Steve Ashton, the streets are so narrow you have to put the cat out sideways. The footpath to Cnicht was well signed and we were off into the cloud soon after 14.00 hrs. We had the place to ourselves and enjoyed frequent glimpses of pastoral scenes through the mist , reaching the summit in good time. Continuing NW along the ridge, we took our time going down, enjoying the solitude, chatting away and generally ignoring the map. By the time we reached the road at Hafod Garregog, we realised the car was over the top of the next hill so added a couple of hours of tarmac to the trip. The “high” point was a short cut in failing light through bracken and farmyards, tiptoeing across large lawns in front of grand houses, aware that at any moment we were likely to be set upon by dogs. The nice lady in The Fleece took pity on us as we arrived 10 minutes after last food orders, so we must have looked very needy!

Sunday it was over to Rhyd Ddu and a trot along the Nantlle Ridge, a route I have wanted to do for many years. There is some easy but quite exposed scrambling and height is maintained throughout. This allows you to savour the views north and south as well as enjoying some quite exposed situations. We stopped short of Cwm Silyn. Next time I’ll try and organise a car at each end . As we were lubricating our joints outside the local, a car stopped and a German couple enquired as to the location of the nearest police station. In the back was “Bob”, a mongrel who had faithfully followed them up Snowdon and back from Pen-y-pass. A call to the number on the tag revealed that Bob’s owner worked in the Pen-y-pass YHA kitchen, so the roving canine transferred to our car and was soon reunited. I’d like to say it was a joyful occasion but Bob was distinctly indifferent and we got the impression there would be a repeat performance the next day.

Monday dawned breezy and sunny, so we had a pleasant time on Moel Siabod . Superb views west into the Snowdon horseshoe, across the Glyders and north to the Carnedds. To the east we could see for miles across rolling countryside as far as the windfarms.

All this in a weekend which was noteable for the absence of people, probably due to a very poor forecast which must have deterred the usual crowds at this time of year. The Nantlle ridge is highly recommended and must be interesting in winter.

Gary Dyer