17 June 2016

The Cares Gorge is one of the most popular walks in Spain, with over 200,000 visitors a year. Although it’s not a mountain walk, by unwritten convention it’s a compulsory day for this holiday. And quite rightly so, say I. Álvaro had saved it for the day with the worst forecast and true to form it rained more or less the whole day.

The River Cares separates the Central and Western massifs of the Picos de Europa. The gorge it has carved is over 600 metres (2000 feet) deep in places with near-vertical cliffs. Even in the grey and the rain it is truly spectacular. At the lower end of the gorge near Poncebos there is a hydroelectric power station powered by water brought from the top end along an aqueduct. The aqueduct took about 10 years to complete and was finished in 1925. For much of its length it was tunnelled through the rock with just enough height to accommodate the flow. Elsewhere it runs in the open. The original path created to service the aqueduct, traces of which you can still see, followed a much more precipitous route than the current one which was built between 1945 and 1950. Most of the path is more-or-less level, although slight undulations mean that you see the flowing canal sometimes above you, sometimes below.

We were able to park at the roadhead, saving the short walk up from Poncebos. From here there is an initial climb of 250m followed by 100m descent, all on a clear and easy path. Then the track is almost level, generally well-surfaced though prone to puddling in wet weather. I won’t try to describe the walk in any detail, just to say that at every twist and turn a new view opens up. Rock tunnels become more frequent as you get nearer the end, and approaching the dam at the head of the gorge after crossing two bridges there is a series of longer tunnels where a torch (or your mobile phone’s flashlight function) will be useful.

Once past the dam another bridge takes you across the now much wider river and into Caín, where you will find a selection of bars and restaurants, and tourist shops selling Cares Gorge merchandise. We’d all been going at our own pace, singly or in small groups, and had got quite spread out so people arrived at our nominated bar (the first one in the village proper) over half an hour or so. Our setting-off times were similarly staggered, and the way back is simply to retrace the route. I walked the 12km without stopping and arrived back third at the parked minibus, having failed to catch Stuart, who’d set off before me with the other Petts Wood Boys, and Dean, who had shot past me earlier, caught Stuart and walked with him to the minibus.

A word about the Killer Goats of the Cares Gorge. With its steep walls the Gorge is prone to stonefall. Semi-wild goats graze the cliffs and it’s not uncommon for them to dislodge stones which fall onto the path. Where this has happened recently you see (as we did) rocks the size of bricks buried in the ground, and craters where they have impacted and bounced. It is a genuine and objective danger of the walk and we were warned to keep our eyes open for goats on the ground above us whenever that was possible. The risk was brought home when Dean, walking on his own on the way back, was narrowly missed by two large stones which fell in front of and behind him.

The 'Flowerpot'

View from near the high point

Killer goat

Footpath and aqueduct

Rock tunnel

Typical scene in Cares Gorge

Footpath engineering

Moody misty mountains

The dam at the head of the gorge

Wet and getting wetter

The Jaws of Cares

My Viewranger track had serious problems keeping contact with the GPS satellites in the deep gorge and especially in the overhangs and rock tunnels. Sometimes it would have been picking up reflected signals too, so don’t place too much reliance on the route it shows!

Tresviso

16 June 2016

Despite the rest day, our fourth day of walking was a bad one for me. I realised as soon as we set off that I was having what French cyclists call ‘un jour sans’ – a day when my legs just weren’t going to work. Uphill – and we did a lot of it that day – was a slow trudge, a matter of just putting one foot in front of another and keeping going at a slow pace. I very soon fell behind the rest of the group.

Tresviso village is 900m above sea level and the only way of reaching it from the east is by a steep track climbing 800m from the road at Urdon. From the west the much longer road approach is from Poncebos. The village was in the news a few years ago when heavy snows meant it was cut off for several weeks, relying on helicopter drops to keep the people and livestock alive.

Today should have been the day when we went to the highest summit in the area, but a poor weather forecast meant Álvaro had decided to stay lower. Sure enough it started to rain about halfway up the Tresviso track and we put on waterproof jackets and plastic trousers.

The bar/restaurant in Tresviso was open. We spent an hour or longer inside eating our lunch and taking coffees or stronger drinks from the bar. Not only did the owner not seem to mind us eating the food from our rucksacks, he even gave us two plates with huge portions of the local blue cheese and bread to go with it.

As the rain eased off we left the village on the tarmac road, still uphill, until we took a side track which dropped down into a valley and crossed the river by an old bridge and dam. There were deer in the valley. Another 450m of ascent, first on a footpath and then near the end on a driveable track brought me to the limit of what I could manage that day.

After about 2km gently downhill on a tarmac road we stopped to decide how to finish the day. It was already half past four. Another kilometre on the road would get us to Sotres, a village with a bar and accessible to the minibuses for a pick-up. Alternatively, suggested Álvaro, we could walk another 2 hours and end in a really nice village which also had a bar where we could wait.

“I can’t do any more uphill today. Sorry”, I said. The others were sympathetic – it was my choice. “It’s almost all downhill”, said Álvaro, “there’s only a really small bit of uphill, less than 100 metres. And we can do it in less than 2 hours.” I’d been alright going downhill. I mentally tossed a coin. “OK, let’s do it.”

And happily it wasn’t too bad. We headed off down a broad valley, picking up a fairly good path which still had some red-and-white tape and red flags from last Saturday’s mountain marathon. The flags were popular souvenirs for some.

Álvaro was pointing to a hole in a limestone outcrop. It looked like a low mining tunnel. “It’s where they keep the cheese!” A cheese cave. In the middle of nowhere. He explained: when the local Cabrales cheese is made it is plain white. To make it blue it has to grow the mould that gives it its flavour. Unlike more commercial blue cheeses the producers are forbidden to inject their cheeses. Instead the cheeses are carried up to cheese caves (north-facing ones are best apparently) in the mountains and stored for months on end. Mould spores in the caves fall on the cheeses and grow, yielding the characteristic flavour and blue veining. So we learned something that day!

I felt fine going downhill and the last uphill was indeed short, and I managed it slowly but without difficulty. Soon after we joined a driveable track which passed through an isolated but inhabited hamlet before a footpath short-cut finally dropped down into Tielve village. Ironically the last 250 metres were the most dangerous of the day – a steep concrete road which turned out to be so slippery we squelched and scrambled down the overgrown verges to avoid slipping on the road.

And then it was beer time!

Not many photos today. I was too tired and anyway my phone was buried inside my waterproofs.

Near the start of the Tresviso path

Uphill path to Tresviso

"Pointy Mountain"

La Caballar hamlet

Tielve village

Viewranger track

14 June 2016

“It’s a steep track”, said Álvaro. “There’s a good place for a stop after an hour. Go at your own pace!” He was right – it was steep, and we climbed about 350m in 50 minutes. The track ended in a meadow with a water trough which made a convenient seat for photos.

Álvaro explained the next section, uphill of course and through “the forest”. He exhorted us to stay close together, single file on the narrow path, as there were sections where the foliage was so thick you wouldn’t be able to see someone just a couple of metres away. I admit I was sceptical, but he was right. Although there was indeed a path, the next half hour was more like bushwhacking. A machete would have been handy until the trees began to thin out, but I expect they’re prohibited in the National Park.

Finally clear of the trees and into the sunshine, the last part of the climb was over typical limestone terrain – irregular and eroded karst mingled with short grass and low-growing alpines. A large yellow patch showed where snow had been lying until the week before.

The simmit is a plateau not a peak, with plenty of space to move around, find a seat, have lunch, take photos. The highlight of the view is the iconic limestone pillar El Naranjo de Bulnes which is a magnet for climbers. But why ‘Naranjo’ (Orange)? Let’s be honest – it doesn’t look like one. Wikipedia suggests an explanation.

There was still a lot of walking left in the day. First a three-tier descent into a farming valley, passing a small snow field, then a gentle climb to the Col Pandebano. All this time the weather had been warm and sunny, but the risk of rain was increasing. It started on the next section when we joined an ancient Roman path leading to Bulnes village. The path was everything a Roman road isn’t – steep, twisting, narrow, made out of rough limestone blocks which quickly became treacherously slippery in the wet. Each at his or her own pace we inched our way down for over an hour, thankfully without mishap, until we arrived at Bulnes and crossed a bridge into the village.

Bulnes has four bars, but only one was open to take our beer orders as the group gradually reassembled and the rain came on more heavily..

There is no road to Bulnes, so no minibus pick-up. Until 2001 the only way for people and goods to get to the village was on foot or by mule up a track from Poncebos, 420m below. But that year saw the opening of a funicular railway, 2.2km long and built entirely in a tunnel through the hillside. The journey takes 8 minutes, and residents travel free.

Exodus clients, on the other hand, can take it as a short-cut for €17*. As the last of the group arrived at the bar Álvaro announced that the last train would leave in 5 minutes, adding that most Exodus clients chose to walk down the track. Some crisps appeared on a plate, and despite the rain 16 out of 16 decided to walk.

* June 2016 price.

Mountains and shadows

Limestone scenery

The Petts Wood Boys + Dean

Peña de Main summit - Brits abroad

Peña de Main summit - the Swindon Four

Alpine limestone flora (2)

Descent from Peña de Main

Arriving in Bulnes

This Viewranger track lost GPS connection towards the end of the walk. The track from Bulnes to the Poncebos road stays close to the river in the gorge.

13 June 2016

Before starting our walk we stopped in Covadonga for a cutural visit to the Basilica of Our Lady of Covadonga, important in Spanish history in commemorating the victory in 722AD of the Asturians under their leader Pelayo (Pelagius) over the Moorish invaders with the divine help of the Virgin. There’s a shrine in a cave above a limestone river source: at the entrance there’s a handy vending machine for candles. Wikipedia is a good starting point for more information.

Leaving Covadonga in the minibuses a twisting road led up into the mountains to a pair of lakes which are thought to feed the source in the village. We arrived at the higher lake in bright sunshine with very few people around and after taking pictures set off at about 1100.

The first part of the walk led through limestone pastures and occasional farms. Familiar trees – hazel, ash, beech – and ferns and flowers both familiar and unfamiliar were sprinkled across the landscape. As Álvaro had predicted, after a while a mist developed and by the time we arrived at the farming hamlet of Belbin for a late lunch it had thickened to a disorienting murk. There’s a driveable track to the hamlet which leads back to the lakes, but a Spanish couple had to ask Álvaro to help them find it.

From Belbin we went generally north for a few kilometres without much change of altitude, then picked up an unsurfaced road which we followed downhill. We got a bit spread out on the road. Dean and I were at the front as Álvaro caught us up and asked us to wait at the bottom of the hill. We did. We waited. No-one else apppeared. We waited a bit longer. Still no-one. I started to get anxious. Perhaps someone had slipped on a loose pebble and twisted an ankle. I went back up the road until I could see a few hundred metres back – still no-one. Then at last the first people appeared and all was well. Álvaro had waited further back and it had just taken longer for everyone to catch up.

From this point, Collado Regueru, we began the ascent of our high point of the day – Peña Pandescura. A climb of 180m got us to a flattish area below the Peña where Dave opted to wait while the rest of us followed Álvaro single file up a steep narrow path another 60 metres to the neat summit.

The last part of the walk followed clear paths, then a wider track, then a road which in turn led to a bar where the group gradually re-assembled for refreshments (mostly beer) while waiting for our pick-up minibuses to arrive.

The Basilica at Covadonga

The Basilica at Covadonga

Lago Ercina above Covadonga

Elevenses stop

Alpine limestone flora (1)

Trees and rocks

A slightly misty Álvaro

11 June 2016

A ridiculously early start from a crowded Stansted Airport got me to Bilbao Airport arrivals hall around 1100. The instructions from Exodus were to look for someone with their sign and to join the group. Two had been in the seats next to me on the plane, but I had no idea how many more to expect. It turned out there were 16 of us, the maximum this trip takes. Our guide for the week, Álvaro, was the man with the sign.

It’s more than two hours from Bilbao to Arenas de Cabrales and the Hotel Torrecerredo, our base for the week. A drink on the terrace, unpacking, a wander into the village which was hosting the end of a 70-odd km mountain marathon, and – later – dinner filled the rest of the day.

Cabeza Juan Robre (870m)

12 June 2016

“Start them off easy” is good advice when you’ve got a self-selected group of unknown ability, especially when the week’s walking has been sold as “challenging”. Our objective for the day was a peak north of the village, from where we’d walk further east to be picked up in the two minibuses for the journey back. It was the equivalent of a single Munro.

You can see the summit we were heading for from the hotel, at the top of a 200-foot cliff. There is, of course, a way to the top ’round the back’, so no climbing involved. We stopped for elevenses on a col on the way, attracting the attention of first one griffon vulture, then another until we had a dozen or so circling around. We hoped they were just looking for discarded sandwiches.

Our summit is not the highest top on the Juan Robre ridge, but has much better views. I had thought of suggesting a short detour to the highest point, but when I saw the ground between I realised it would be rather pointless – no path, just limestone and grass hiding ankle-breaking holes to reach a dull rounded top. Local knowledge is a good thing.

We came down from the summit to the col below to have lunch by a disused shepherd’s hut; two huts in fact, one for people (with a chimney) and one for animals (no chimney). Signs of occupation still survived, perhaps only thirty years since the hut was in regular summer use. In the first room was a box bed and rudimentary storage, the back room had a cooking hearth with an iron pot-hanger and a few other bits of basic equipment. There was no running water, no obvious toilet facilities. Odd bits of string, wire and leather were scattered about and tucked away in cavities in the walls. It was a glimpse of a way of life that was commonplace only a generation ago.

From the lunch stop it was generally downhill through valleys and woodland. At the bottom we stopped at Fuente la Batuva, a spring flowing into a trough, to refill our water bottles. Álvaro was delighted to find newts and leeches in the trough, fishing out a newt to show us and explaining that their presence showed that the water was clean and pure. The leeches were left undisturbed.

There was then a short sharp uphill pull through a grass meadow to a grassy col, followed by a long gentle descent to the road and our minibuses. By the end of the day the good news to me (and Álvaro too, I expect) was that we all managed ok. Miranda was frequently at the front, as she was to be all week, but no-one was struggling.

Arenas village centre

View from the hotel

Climbing, with Arenas below

Milling about on the summit

My Viewranger track for the day.

The Group

• The Petts Wood Boys – Chris, David, Ian, Ian, Stuart, Phil
• The Swindon Four – Allan, Dave, Dean, Martin
• Guy and Miranda
• Alex, Sarah, Steve and me

Hotel Torrecerredo

The hotel has been run for over 20 years by Englishman Jim and his Spanish wife Pilar. They are also Torrecerredo Tours, who in turn hold the contract as suppliers to Exodus. Álvaro therefore works for them. I’m told this is a fairly standard arrangement for Exodus holidays. Jim and Pilar are great people, friendly and approachable, between them a sound source of advice and knowledge for everything in the area.

My room was basic but clean and comfortable, with an ensuite bathroom (bath with shower over, toilet, washbasin). I’d paid a single supplement but had a comfortable double bed. The hotel has wifi which worked in my room. I didn’t see any of the other rooms, but I didn’t hear anyone complaining about theirs.

Food

The hotel food was good. Breakfast was the range of cold choices you would expect, plus two eggs cooked to order in the usual variety of ways including omelette. There was DIY toast, though the toaster took a long time. Packed lunches consisted of a large and generously-filled baguette, pre-ordered the night before from a choice of three fillings, with a help-yourself selection of cereal bars and chocolate. A basket of fruit was always available, and they never ran out of bananas! I only opened one of the cereal bars I had brought with me.

Dinner was always an amuse-bouche, soup, main course and dessert, all cooked and presented to a high standard. Main courses were ordered in the morning, always a choice of meat, fish and vegetarian.

My only criticism was the lack of vegetables: those that we had were served more as a garnish than a portion and I was feeling the lack by the end of the week. A salad option alongside the soup would also have been welcome.

Álvaro Saiz

Álvaro was one of two leaders to win Exodus’ Leader of the Year award in 2015, and it’s easy to see why. He seems to know everything about the area – geology, flora and fauna, the people and their way of life – and is eager to share his knowledge with guests. Ask him about newts, griffon vultures, orchids, farming, cheese and he’ll tell you interesting things about them. Just as importantly his knowledge of the local geography, the tracks and footpaths, valleys and hills seems inexhaustible, so his clients can have full confidence in his ability to look after them, choose good routes and keep them safe. We never had cause to find out what emergency kit he keeps in his large rucksack, but I suspect anything we might have needed is there.

Having had experience myself of leading walking holidays I can say there was not one occasion when I would have questioned his actions or decisions as leader.

Gear

I managed with a 20 litre day sack and my well-worn light Hi-Tec Trail boots (my ‘summer alpine’ boots). They’re not waterproof so I had wet feet some days. I carried a Goretex Paclite jacket and cheap light waterproof trousers. Some days I packed an extra thin fleece layer but only wore it once. A thin single-layer Pertex shell to protect against the wind served well when needed.

Maps and guidebooks

I bought the Alpina 1:40,000 2-map set from Stanfords before the holiday. It’s generally good for following the walks, but not every path we used is on the map. There’s a 1:25,000 series which is better and which you can buy in Arenas when you know exactly which one(s) you will need.

There doesn’t seem to be a good guide to walks in the Picos. The Cicerone guide I bought is seriously out of date (1989) and is mostly a book of rock climbing routes with only a few walks. There’s a clear gap in the market here, so Álvaro, I suggest you get in touch with Kev Reynolds or Paddy Dillon and write the definitive English language guide to Walks in the Picos!

Stats

I used Viewranger on my Android phone to track each day’s walk, and a Suunto altimeter watch to log height gains/losses. It is sensitive to 5 vertical metres. The Viewranger GPS track sometimes failed, especially in the steep-sided gorges of days 3 and 5. The Suunto has always produced reliable results, allowing for atmospheric pressure changes during the day. After the holiday Álvaro sent his own stats for each day taken off the map.

For the stats here I have used my own ascent/descent figures, the Viewranger distances for days 1,2, and 4, and  Álvaro’s distances for days 3 and 5.