HRP - the High Route Pyrenees. June 2022; 14 étapes, 158 miles, 62,300 ft ascent
The HRP is the acronym for the French name Haute Randonnée Pyrénéenne, and because the route also has Spanish or English names, it is easiest to stick with the generally understood name HRP. It is called a route because it combines several different trails with off-trail sections and alternates. It is one of three ways to hike in the Pyrenees from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean; the GR 10 and GR 11 trails hew to the French and Spanish sides respectively, while the HRP zig-zags back and forth over both, staying high and largely avoiding roads and towns. It features more challenging passes than the GR trails, and unlike the GR trails, the majority of hikers on the HRP carry tents which they use frequently and which allow for more spontaneous camping opportunities. The route offers the advantages of abundant fresh water supplies and frequent opportunities to obtain cooked meals and provisions; three days is about the longest stretch without provisions.
The complete trip is 44 days, known as stages or “étapes”, for a total distance of 497 miles and 139,000 altitude gain. I allot 16 days to hike Sections 2 & 3, containing 16 étapes, not knowing in advance if I could do more than one étape a day or if bad weather might ground me. At the conclusion I hiked 14 étapes, but I also managed to eke out 3 days of rest along the way and climb one mountain, so I was moving a bit faster than the 44 day pace. My total distance covered was 158 miles with 62,300 ft altitude gain. By comparison, the John Muir Trail (JMT) is 211 miles with 47,000 altitude gain, often done in 21 days, so the HRP has nearly twice the altitude gain per mile, and any weak body joints will definitely notice the difference.
I choose the HRP for several reasons: I have been largely locked out of the my homeground Sierra Nevada for the last two years because of fires, so I want to make sure I am able to put in at least one long trip this summer. The higher altitudes and rougher qualities of a “route” vs a “trail” appeal to me. I know that if I go early season I will enjoy the route without crowds, although ironically I meet and hike with two people almost the entire way. I speak some French and Spanglish, so the engagement with different foreign languages is also an attraction.
Map showing the entire HRP.
Aerial map showing the portion of the HRP I walk from Lescun to Vielha with a red line.
My flight involves stopping in Munich and then onto Bilbao.
When I arrived in Bilbao I was met by my friend Paxti who drove me to his home town of Pamplona. I almost never post selfies but this is the photo that I have.
Paxti obtains some wonderful fresh sardines and demonstrates how to make a fire of small branches which when burned down to glowing embers make a perfect even and smoky heat source.
I spend one day in Bilbao to recovering from the flight while enjoying time with Paxti, his family and friends.
Day 1: Paxti generously makes the long drive to deposit me at the start of the hike in the small village of Lescun.
I immediately encounter a large flock of sheep who proceed with purpose with no dog or human guiding them.
The first refuge I encounter is closed. For some refuges, the season is too early to open, and others are closed to undergo repairs.
The majority of the Pyrenees I walk is considered Karst, which is a topography formed from the dissolution of soluble rocks such as limestone, dolomite, and gypsum. It is visible aboveground by scattered strange rocks and features underground drainage systems with sinkholes and caves.
This plaque describes the “Freedom Trail” that commemorates one of the several secret escape routes over the central Pyrenees into northern Spain during the Second World War. This route was taken not only by hundreds of Frenchmen and Jews fleeing from their German oppressors, but also by many R.A.F. and American airmen who had either crash-landed or parachuted to safety after being shot down over Nazi-occupied Europe. Between the years 1940 and 1944, there were 33,000 successful escapes by Frenchmen along the entire length of the Pyrenean chain. Of these, 782 escaped over the mountain peaks of the Ariège, the high point being in June 1943, when there were 113 successful evasions along or close to Le Chemin de la Liberté.
I reach a lake that seems an obvious spot to camp. I consider cowboy-camping under the stars but a fast approaching storm convinces me to set up the tent.
My new Altaplex tent keeps me dry but cannot make me feel better about the chance of being electrocuted by lightning.
The next morning I compare the storm experience with, from left, Renger, Bartolomie and Guy. Renger is an administrator for the City of Amsterdam, and eventually we end up hiking together for the next week. Bartolomie and Guy are French and I only see each of them one more time during the hike. Bartolomie is a young French student and I am reminded that many young people on the long trails have no money and are hiking on fumes.
Day 2: It is early in the season and any path or trail is easily confused by the many animal paths. I waste a bit of time on navigation but enjoy the karsitic landscape.
The grassy landscapes are moist and my shoes get wet hiking, but they are not swampy in the way this photo might suggest.
PN= Parc National.
Wild boars chew up the landscape, often in exactly the places with the most desirable camping spots.
My first lake swim at Ibon de Estanés is just inside the Spanish border.
This schoolgroup had about an hour walkup from the trailhead to visit the lake. It is difficult to imagine an American group of kids willing to do the same.
The many animal trails formed by sheep and cattle create interesting patterns but are oftentimes too deep and narrow to be comfortable for a hiker.
Renger knows of a spot below the roadway and ski resort where one can camp without getting hassled by the police.
Day 3: We start the hike with the dramatic Monte Tobazo mountain range behind us.
My second lake swim opportunity.
There are a variety of refuge names and classifications that offer a small number of food items for purchase, and during limited hours, simple prepared items like sandwiches, soup and omelettes, beer and Coca-cola.
This famous stretch of the trail features a vertiginous path with a safety cable. Most class-3 climber-hikers would not think twice about the traverse, but apparently many hikers seek an alternate route to avoid it.
We reach a much higher altitude with some leftover snow and a very old-fashioned alpine refuge.
All of the provisions are supplied by the refuge Guardien who carries everything with this framed backpack.
The soup is freshly made and amazingly good. As is my custom, I create slush drinks with the nearby snow in my cup.
On a cold rainy or snowy day this refuge would be welcome but it is still a brutish nasty place that reeks with a mildew smell.
Yes, we are in france.
This pass is one of the few that require traction in June.
Renger and I opt to stay at this refuge with its offerings of dinner and breakfast. Nobody seems much concerned about Covid protocols but I appreciate the early-season sparse number of people.
Day 4.
We arrive at a campsite where the Guardien of another refuge we passed advised that we might get a ticket. It is perhaps the most spectacular campsite I have ever visited.
Day 5: The temperature is rising and this day looks like it will be a hot day.
I learn that some Dutch guys don’t perform well in the heat.
There is no way to get to the refuge without wading through multiple streams.
I acquire a taste for the French Schweppes Agrumes fruit drink and eat an omelette with cheese and bacon.
A very hot hike up the hill. The refuge is now a small black speck below.
We reach another refuge for the night which is more crowded but where Renger and I still obtain beds away from others; camping spots are not offered.
Day 6: We leave our packs for an alpine start to climb Mount Vignemale, the tallest mountain on the French side of the route at 10,820 ft.
The ascent involves a trail, then a glacier, and finally some class-3 climbing. Tame fare compared the 14’rs I climb in California.
There is a Spanish climber at the top who accompanies four people and who carries as much unnecessary equipment as possible. He was a real character.
Chip packages are designed to puncture at exactly 11,000 ft.
Renger and I must now go down and backtrack to go retrieve our packs and then put in a full day étape to the next destination.
The red and white stripes are the universal marking “balissage” for French trails. If you don’t see one at least every five minutes, you must be off-trail.
An “X” indicates a false or wrong direction.
The teepee logo indicates allowed camping.
The afternoon is spent amongst very green and beautiful fields with many old or even ancient sheepherder cabins.
We reach the newly restored refuge that sits just outside the small village of Garvarnie, and it is a wonderful experience. It is privately run with good vegetarian food and a wonderful staff.
We eat with everyone who speaks French, while the Spanish speakers organically gravitate towards the other table. There is also one of the few Americans I meet; Dylan is something of a professional thru-hiker from Colorado.
Day 7: A welcome day off in Garvanie to rest, wash, eat. On the way to town a reminder to be careful which streams we take water from.
Garvarnie is not so charming but it does has adequate amenities including a good compact hiking-oriented sports store, market, post, ATM and several good outdoor restaurants. The day attraction for most tourists is the “Cirque du Garvarnie”, seen above.
A well-done salad and double-fisting beer and Coke. Life is good in Gavarnie.
It is always fun to look at the election posters and guess who are the Right, Center and Left. Les Patriotes look like trouble to me.
By the time I reach Gavarnie I manage to break my Komperdell poles in three places, so a replacement is needed. Everyone tells me that I am “too tall” for carbon-fiber poles. The sports store in Gavarnie does not let me down. I have come to really like my new Leki’s; they are certainly heavier than what I am used too but they are sturdy and well-designed.
Day 8: Renger is staying in town to do some dayhikes with his friend who arrives from the Netherlands, so we bid adieu. Off I go, alone, towards the Cirque. I usually hike alone and expect to be solo, but after several days of hiking with someone it feels odd at first to be solo again.
Every farmer/sheepherder has a wood staff pole.
Nice hike up the hill to this refuge for a drink.
The horses act strange; they clearly want to be around the humans but act skittish when approached.
The Schweppes Agrume drink replaces Orangina as my new favorite French soft drink.
Just who do you think you are looking at?
OK, this is pretty amazing.
There are old buildings as I roll into this village, and I have the full intention of hiking another 90 minutes to a higher plateau.
However, within minutes some rain appears and I decide to stay and eat at a small hotel that caters to hikers, “Chez Soaz”. I was not too keen about putting up my tent in the increasingly heavy rain nor staying in a room with a stranger, but they offered me this Yurt and I loved it. It is always satisfying to be safe and dry under shelter when the heavens open up.
Dinner was good and reasonable cost. So was the entire bottle of local wine I drank.
Day 9. As I make my way up the hill this cloud apparition appears.
At the top I find several farmers chasing an uncooperative renegade cow. Very amusing to watch. They are driving all the cows to an extremely high place.
This cabine is typical of the unmanned shelters that are frequently found along the trails and the route.
While I am resting in front of the cabine, two farmers come up and ask if I had seen another cow go off in a different direction. They speak in French and just naturally assume that I understand them.
Very odd monument concerning the Chapelle de Héas. “(legend) two doves would quench their thirst at this fountain, taking flight, they went to rest, one at the place where the chapel of Héas was built, and the other on the nipple of Poeylon.”
My destination is the extremely windy pass in the top center of the photo.
View looking back. Yes, that is Mt Vignemale where I had been a few days earlier.
The wind gusts are dangerously strong at the top of the pass and it is difficult to find a safe moment to cross over.
I reach the Lacs de Barroude and look for a spot to pitch a tent. It is very windy.
I meet a German woman named Barbara who found an abandoned shelter and who points me to another room which used to be the electrical room for a refuge that had burned down. We eat dinner together and say goodbye.
Day 10: The next day I depart at the same time as Barbara and so we hike together. She is an IT professional from Berlin is who is taking a year-long sabbatical to hike around the world.
Barbara and I reach a nasty little roadstop town with terrible markets and trinkets. We have lunch together and get to know each other a little better. Barbara has a sprained ankle and thinks it best to rest in town, so we say goodbye for the second time.
I fuel up with caffeine and sugar and turbo-charge for three hours up a hill in the rain. There is an interesting abandoned power station that should be converted to a boutique hotel.
At the top I take shelter in this small cabine. During the night a tremendous storm shakes this stone structure. I am glad to be inside.
Day 11: The storm subsides and I descend to green fields with lots of animals on the Spanish side .
I reach a very nice privately-run Spanish refuge with a compelling view and at this juncture I must decide between two variations of the route. One variation takes a day longer and features some high passes that may become difficult to traverse with the projected storms. The answer to my indecision is to take a nap on the grass in the sun. I awake to find a grinning Barbara standing over me; she covered some serious territory in the morning to reach this point, and together we decide that the setting is so nice that we will spend the day there and hike on the safer route tomorrow.
We spend the afternoon touring the different buildings in the valley and enjoy a nice meal. Every refuge on the Spanish side appears to cost a good 30% less than on the French side.
Day 12: Barbara and I take off and encounter periodic rain and fog.
We finally descend to experience a very different micro-climate and plant ecology.
We stop in a refuge to get a coffee and enjoy sitting in chairs at a table with our lunches.
Barbara takes the best picture of the trip.
We reach the campground adjacent to the charming village of Benasque. I am uncertain about spending time in a Euro campground but find that it is a very pleasant experience with many amenities and not so many people. In high season with many people, it might not be so pleasant.
There is a shed with a shower to wash your dog on one side and some tools to repair your bike on the other.
Day 13. Barbara and I decide to walk into Benasque and witness a giant herd of cows that take over the roadway for ten minutes.
Benasque has been beautifully restored and all the new construction has been carefully done so it is a nice place to spend the day eating, shopping and resting. It is clearly an affluent destination with many nice cars and people showing off their fancy dogs.
We find the best restaurant in town and enjoy Bacalao (salted cod).
Day 14: We make a long hike up a boring road only to discover that a local bus does the same journey. Once on the trail it is a rocky trip with variable weather.
It is always easy to spot Barbara’s glowing orange pack rain cover.
Once over the pass we encounter a talus descent resembling the many talus hills I do off-trail in the Sierra.
It rains periodically and we wonder how long we can continue. We find this modern refuge that is very new and clean that would be a perfect stop in very bad weather, but it seems soulless and we prefer to continue farther along the trail.
We continue to an unmanned wooden cabin which is barely visible in this photo.
There are a few other hikers going in our direction but luckily they do not show up and we have the cabine to ourselves.
Day 15: I awake to an interesting sunrise. We enjoy breakfast for too long and find ourselves hurrying down a large descent so I can board a bus for Barcelona at 2 PM. We say goodbye for the third and final time.
I see many unusual rock formations on the way to Barcelona, passing through a quasi-industrial landscape that at times reminds me of Mexico.
The arrival in Barça is a shock, but between the good food, beauty, early morning walks and my favorite beachside pool in Barcelloneta I make the adjustment and enjoy two days before flying off to the next chapter of my European adventure. I am pleased to have made this trip as it offered me a challenging hike, green scenery, new friends and an interesting perspective on hills that support domesticated animal activities.
Some notes: I used the guide published by Cicerone “The Pyrenean Haute Route”, written by Tom Martens. It comes with a downloadable and accurate GPS track. Water can be found on the route several times a day; I filtered it but many don’t. Food of some sort is available most days, although you may be limited on some days to bread and cheese, or some packaged items. The French refuges can cost $55/day for full board; the Spanish ones are 30% less expensive. It would be prudent to plan for a few rain days that may impede your schedule.