Pic de Soularac

I need to do a reality check for myself! Today was supposed to have been a rest day after three long hard days on the bike. This is my third trip to the Pyrenees and so far every day here has been spent cycling over the high cols. I've never done any walking and never been to the top of any of the mountains. I thought I would finally put that right and give the legs a bit of recovery with some easy walking.

As it turned out there wasn't much scope for any recovery! It turned out to be a very tough day, the biggest problem being dehydration. I started by dropping down from Perles to Luzenac before taking the long climb up through Lordat to the famous Talc Mines, just before which there is an access road which leads to the trailhead. It was here that I locked up the bike and changed clothes. A sign of the trouble ahead was that my cycling gear was saturated. It was stinking hot (35 deg apparently) - and I only had two litre water bottles with me.

The trail up to the Pic de Soularac (2368m) was well marked but I have to admit that I'd underestimated the height and the distance involved. When we'd seen these peaks on Monday from the Route des Corniches they looked deceptively close! I forget how the clarity of the air here can fool your perception of distance. It wasn't apparent at first what a magnificent summit this is, with some fun scrambling in places and superb vistas. In the heat I felt very lethargic, with tired legs and a bit of a gippy tummy, a symptom from yesterday, I suspect, of an unfamiliar cocktail of lots of wonderful food, many coffees and cokes, too much beer, all laced with those evil but sometimes essential energy gels! I think my stomach was saying enough is enough. I wasn't able to face the bars I had taken with me and even the water, fairly quickly heated up to a very unpleasant temperature, was difficult to face.

Without doubt the highpoint of the day occurred just seconds after reaching the summit you can see here. It was a bit of a scramble to the very top and just as I reached the final pinnacle I heard a loud and an unfamiliar sound. A Griffon Vulture had just taken to the wing from the crags a few feet below. It's wingspan was incredible, eight feet or more, and just as I was taking in the size and beauty of this magnificent creature, six more soared into the sky from below me. It all happened so quickly that there was no time to take a photograph. I regret that, in a way, but it also meant that I stayed focussed in the moment. Sometimes, in the rush to get a picture, you can forget to look and observe. I hung around a little while hoping they might return but they very soon glided away far into the distant mountains. It's a sight I will never forget.

From there I followed the line of the ridge down and up to the Pic de St.Barthelemy (2348m), from where this photo was taken, just a little lower in height. I then descended on the opposite side of the great cwm which these two peaks command, snow still lying in places. It was quite tough going all the way back to where I'd left the bike, the trail steep and loose in places and also becoming quite hard to follow. Indeed, shortly after crossing the stream which feeds out of the cwm, and finally being able to get some fresh, cool water, I lost the path altogether and ended up beating my own trail for about a mile through some very rich and dense scrub.

By this stage I was so out of it from dehydration that I had no energy to even take photographs. The meadows around the stream I'd crossed were some of the most beautiful I've ever seen, orchids growing with a profusion more typical of dandelions or buttercups, with myriad butterflies of all kinds of different species. It was stunning. I do regret now not being able to capture some of that beauty - although it is hard. Photography in this incredibly intense light has proved difficult. So far, I don't feel I've come close to capturing the awesome beauty of the mountains and the flora here.

So, what I thought would be a 4 to 5 hour easy half-day out turned into an 8 hour epic. I was completely wasted in the evening. Despite having no appetite the evening meal was so good that I managed to eat far more food than I expected, although straight after dinner I feel asleep on the couch. I woke up just as everyone was going to bed but there was no question of trying to blip. I just moved myself upstairs and carried on sleeping. I think I may have to face the fact that I can no longer do the things that I used to be able to do!