Last night we chatted with several Australian women, two of whom are hiking the Hexatrek which is a 3,000km hike across France.
We woke up early in order to make it into town at an early hour, to maximize our time needed for resupply. We were some of the first people out of camp at 6:30, but most people were awake.
We climbed past shepherds getting their flocks organized for the day. Last night Simon told us some interesting information about shepherds as he has a friend working as one in Switzerland. There are two kinds of dogs: a white sheepdog who lives amongst the flock and protects the flock. Then there is a shepherd’s dog, which is a smaller dog like a border collie, that runs in specific directions based on whistle commands from the shepherd. Apparently the shepherds can very accurately steer the border collie with different whistle sounds and patterns. Finally, the shepherd is often hired for the summer by the sheep owner and in Switzerland, the shepherd gets one helicopter drop of supplies at the start of summer and they have to make do with that. They may be able to supplement with town foods but they are typically living full time in the mountains for the season.
As we walked by the flocks in the mornings, the sheepdogs would come to the side of the flock closest to us and aggressively bark. Thankfully we were far enough away and the shepherds frequently called them off, but it’s one of the less fun aspects of being amongst the sheep. That and the poo.
We missed a turn at some point on our descent but it didn’t matter as the road rejoined our trail later anyway. Once we rejoined at a stream, I took the opportunity to wash my legs and soak my feet. Up next we had a steep climb up to our second lake, one we hoped actually allowed swimming. On the climb up I accidentally scared the shit out of Simon as I approached him on the side of the trail. Oops.
When we got there I could see several people on the opposite side of the lake but no one was swimming. I figured it must be prohibited. We walked towards a rock outcropping on the edge of the lake, where there was the only visible sign. The sign said it was a catch and release fishing area, so we went for our first lake swim! It was great. The water wasn’t nearly as cold as I expected. Simon arrived as we were finishing drying off in the sun. We left him to his swim as we headed to town.
Town wasn’t nearly as close as I expected. We climbed a lot more and descended even more. We took a break in a forest to eat lunch. We crossed a river and I submerged myself in a small pool, only to find a much larger, better one just around the corner. The views around us were extremely impressive and I was very glad to be in this section of the hike, but I wanted to be done. The heat was manageable thanks to the frequent water access.
We finally emerged into a ski area and began a walk down a mostly deserted road into the town of Candanchú. It is a ski town that doesn’t have much going on in the summer. At the small shop in town, we decided to try our luck hitching down to the next town, 7 minutes away, with a larger store. We got a ride fairly quickly from a woman who wants to be a mountain rescue worker, but tomorrow she has a big test. We thanked her for the ride and wished her luck.
The store in the next town seemed to be not much different. Some things were cheaper, but like our other resupplies, we made compromises. I bought things like pain au chocolat for breakfast, nuts and corn nuts for snacks, some random meat sticks for snacks, and tortillas with chips and peanut butter for lunch (my staple). For dinners we bought a mixture of cous cous and ramen bombs (ramen + instant mashed potatoes). To each we add cheese. To the cous cous, olive oil and bullion cube too.
We repacked our food (threw away extra packaging) on a bench outside. Then we started the long process of hitching back. It took much longer than our way down but probably only took 20 minutes. Back in Candanchú, we saw Simon, the German who hiked the PCT last year, and the Polish woman, Kate. We talked with Kate for a bit before she left to check into her hostel.
Since it was thundering and sprinkling now, we decided to wait out the weather with Simon at a restaurant which let us charge our electronics. Well, I charged mine, Zoë charged hers by asking about it in the supermarket. We sat with another guy who is hiking the GR-11, the Spanish equivalent of the GR-10, and whose track is largely parallel to ours. I think it actually has more climbing than our trail, but it’s an established trail the whole way. Anyway this guy was originally from Argentina, has lived in the U.S. and has come to France to learn viticulture. He’s in school now and has an internship set up in Portugal after his hike ends. He hopes to one day make wine in Argentina or the U.S.
After we finished our snack from the restaurant we decided to head out of town with Simon to go find a campsite for the night. Unfortunately for all of these towns, you have to descend into them from the mountains and climb back out of them to the trail. As we were leaving we saw two of the Australian women from last night (non Hexatrek ones) heading down the road, presumably doing exactly the same thing we were. We caught up to them, but they took a steeper track up to find a campsite. We found a spot at the end of a road on a deserted ski resort and decided to stay here for the night. The view is actually spectacular.