THE PYRENEES
BY CLAUDE ELLIOTT
The claims of the Pyrenees on the alpine climber have been set forth
with charm and vigour by Count Henry Russell and Mr. Packe, and yet
they remain singularly neglected. Possibly it is the very ardour of
their advocates that has betrayed their cause. For it is not as the
rival of the Alps, but as a preparatory training-ground for the Alps
or as a refuge from the cosmopolitan tourist, that the Pyrenees should
be regarded. Let it be said at once that as a climbing-ground pure
and simple there can be no comparison between the ranges. The biggest
peak in the Pyrenees has a height of 11,160 feet; their glaciers are
small--their total area is about 13 square miles--they do not flow down
into the valleys, but as a rule are as broad as they are long; and the
snowline is about 1000 feet higher than it is in Switzerland. The very
lack of snow and ice at once renders the ordinary routes up the larger
Pyrenean peaks infinitely more easy than the ordinary first-class
alpine ascent.
Of course rock climbs of great difficulty can be found if search is
made for them, but the normal routes up the rock peaks of reputation,
such as the Fourcanade or the Pic du Midi d’Ossau, do not present
difficulties approaching those, say, of the Chamonix Aiguilles.
The climbing on the whole resembles that of the western end of the
Oberland or of Tyrol. With some exceptions the angles are not steep,
the rock is inclined to be rotten, and the snow and ice work is easy.
The mountains possess, however, a peculiar charm of their own, which
is not nowadays to be found in the Alps, and is due to their solitude,
their wildness, their freedom from the works of man. And this very
desolation provides the Pyrenees with peculiar difficulties: there the
mountaineer will find himself almost completely alone; there are few
guides, few climbing parties, few huts, no good climbing centres, no
good maps, and seldom any detailed descriptions of routes. He will have
to be dependent on himself and himself only, and it is in this that
their appeal and their value lie.
[Sidenote: General Topography and Structure.]
The portion of the Pyrenees which will most interest the mountaineer is
that which lies between the Vallée d’Aspe immediately to the south of
Pau, on the west, and the Val d’Aran, immediately beyond Luchon, on the
east--a distance of some 70 miles. The structure is more complicated
than appears at first sight, because the biggest peaks do not lie on
the central frontier range, but on one side or the other, and because
the subsidiary ridges often join the main range at very acute angles.
The reason for this is that the lines of original folding lie at an
acute angle to the general direction of the chain; M. Schrader has
pointed out that “while the chain as a whole lies in the direction E.
9° S., this particular direction is not produced by a continuous line,
but by a series of oblique folds whose direction is about E. 30° S.”
The folds are of granite, schist or limestone, and thus provide a great
variety of rock work.
The sketch overleaf only indicates _general_ topography. Starting at
the Vallée d’Aspe and proceeding eastwards, we find that the main
frontier range is comparatively low, while the higher peaks are thrown
out to the north, the chief being the Pic du Midi d’Ossau (9460 feet)
above the village of Gabas, a fine double-peaked mountain of rotten
granite and schist, the traverse of which makes an excellent climb.
The main range, however, still keeping its schistous character, soon
rises to over 10,000 feet in the Balaitous, which lies at the head of
the Val d’Azun and provides good climbing. After this it maintains its
high level, but it is overtopped by the Pic d’Enfer (10,200 feet), a
granite mass immediately to the south and above the Baths of Panticosa
in Spain. The frontier chain after passing the Pic d’Enfer culminates
in the Vignemale (10,800 feet), a schistous peak with a fine glacier,
and then bends south to the ice-covered limestone massif above the
Cirque de Gavarnie, comprising the Taillon (10,300 feet) and the
Marboré (10,600 feet), on the frontier, and Mount Perdu (10,900 feet)
immediately to the south. A little farther eastwards it throws out a
high rib, running into France and culminating in the Pic Long (10,400
feet). Continuing along the main range we find that it maintains its
height, and though it never rises much above 10,000 feet it only twice
falls below 8000, and then only by a few feet, till it reaches the
Val d’Aran. The formation of this easterly portion is of granite, and
provides a quantity of good rock climbing. The highest mountains,
however, lie in two massifs on the Spanish side of this part of the
range. The most westerly of these contains the Pic des Posets (11,040
feet), an interesting peak of granite and schist rising from an easy
glacier, and the other is the massif of the Maladetta, culminating in
the Pic de Néthou (11,160 feet), the highest summit of the Pyrenees,
on whose flank lies the largest glacier of the range. The two massifs
are separated from one another by the deep valley of the Esera,
where Venasque is situated, which can be reached easily from Luchon,
in France, by the mule-track over the Port de Venasque. Beyond the
Port the main range is cut across by the Val d’Aran, running roughly
west-north-west, which marks a line of geological folding. South of the
Val d’Aran and east of the Maladetta group lies the Montarto massif
(not to be confused with the Pic de Montarto d’Aran), a rocky ridge,
rising out of a snow field on the east resembling a small glacier, of
which the highest point is the Comolo Forno (_c._ 10,100 feet) and
the most striking the Pic de Bécibéri, some 100 feet lower. Farther
eastward and still south and east of the Val d’Aran, is an unusually
wild and complex region of granite peaks, averaging 9500 feet, and
innumerable small lakes, comprising the Cirques of Colomés, Sabouredo
and the Sierra de los Encantados. The main frontier chain starts again
beyond the Val d’Aran some miles to the northward, and though it still
remains high and still forms one of the most remarkable mountain
barriers in Europe, it contains no glacier and little perpetual snow,
and on the whole the mountains are less steep. So from a purely
technical point of view it is of comparatively small interest to the
climber. But there are few people who would not enjoy visiting it, both
because of the wildness and desolation of the country, and because
hidden away in its recesses is the principality of Andorra, which lies
immediately to the south of the watershed, some 40 miles beyond the Val
d’Aran, and accessible without great difficulty from the railway at Ax
in France.
[Illustration: MAP OF PYRENEES]
It will be seen from this brief description that the range is an
extended one, and that the larger peaks are far apart from one another.
Moreover, there are few towns among the mountains, and the higher
summits are separated from one another by difficult country. On the
French side there are a certain number of good roads connecting the
northward running valleys, but on the Spanish side there is often not
even the faintest of paths. Also from the Val d’Ossau to Ax, 150 miles
to the east, no large road actually crosses the main range, and even
footpaths across are surprisingly rare. It follows, then, that the
Pyrenees are not mountains for the climber who is fond of the comforts
of life. A tent or sleeping-bag is absolutely necessary for their real
appreciation.
[Sidenote: Centres.]
The only centres are Luchon and Gavarnie, but these are not good;
the climbing round them is limited, and would soon be exhausted by a
competent party, unless it were content with infinite small variations.
Gavarnie (5000 feet) is easily reached from Paris via Bordeaux, Dax and
Lourdes to Pierrefitte in under 24 hours; thence by a short electric
railway to Luz, and finally by 12 miles of excellent road. It contains
several good hotels, and in summer it is crowded with tourists. From
here a number of interesting peaks can be climbed direct. Immediately
to the south is the magnificent Cirque de Gavarnie, above which lies
the frontier ridge rising to the points of the Gabiétou (10,000 feet),
the Taillon (10,320 feet), the Casque, the Tour de Marboré (10,670
feet) and the Pic d’Astazou. From the Marboré a still higher ridge runs
south-east, on which lie the Cylindre (10,900 feet), Mont Perdu (10,990
feet) and the Soum de Ramond (10,760 feet). The frontier peaks may all
be climbed in a day from Gavarnie, and the energetic may traverse two
or even three of them in the day.
The others also are not too far for a day’s excursion; but it may be
found preferable to sleep in the Cabane de Gaulis, on the flank of the
Perdu, or better still, to bivouac.
Hanging on these peaks is a mass of _névé_ and broken glacier, allowing
difficult variations to be made on the usual routes, which are easy;
here alone, indeed, can glacier work of any difficulty be found.
For instance, a route has been made up the Perdu from the north,
which involves the ascent of an ice-fall. The rock work is not so
satisfactory, but some really hard and interesting ascents have been
made straight up these frontier peaks from the Cirque de Gavarnie.
Farther to the east we find first the Cirque d’Estaubé, and then the
Cirque de Troumouse, facing north, and cut off from Gavarnie and from
each other by subsidiary ridges.
Surrounding the Cirque d’Estaubé are ranged in order the Tuqueroye, the
Pic de Pinède and other peaks, providing some difficult rock routes,
and accessible in a day from Gavarnie. Above the Cirque de Troumouse is
an interesting rock ridge, of which the chief point is the Pic de la
Munia (10,300 feet). It is, however, rather far from Gavarnie, and many
people will prefer to spend the night at the small but expensive inn at
Héas before attacking it.
From near the Munia a ridge runs due north to the Pic Long. This
mountain can be climbed by its glacier or by its sound granite rocks
in a long day from Gavarnie, or the night can first be spent at Gédre,
where also the inn is dear.
To the west of Gavarnie lies the Vignemale, which is ascended by a
crevassed, but easy, glacier. Here again difficult climbing can be
found if search is made; for instance, it has been ascended by a very
difficult couloir on the north side.
Luchon (2000 feet) is even more easily reached than Gavarnie.
Trains run direct from Paris via Toulouse and Montrejeau, and the
whole journey from London should take just over 24 hours. It is
altogether a larger town than Gavarnie, and is one of the fashionable
watering-places of the Pyrenees. It has some good if expensive shops.
From here it is easy to attack the interesting granite peaks on the
main range. Running southward, a little to the west of Luchon, is the
Val d’Oo or d’Astau, enclosed by the Pic du Port d’Oo (10,300 feet),
the Perdighero (10,500 feet), the Crabioules (10,200 feet) and the
Quairat (10,000 feet). The ordinary routes up these can be accomplished
in a longish day from Luchon, and are quite easy according to alpine
standards. They may also be visited on the way to the Posets, which
lie immediately to the south.
Immediately to the east of the Val d’Oo and nearer Luchon is the Vallée
de Lys, which is dominated by the Pic de Quairat, the Crabioules, the
Maupas (10,200 feet) and the Boum (10,000 feet), and the small glaciers
on their flanks.
The ascents of these are again rather long from Luchon, but there is an
inn some 3½ hours up the valley where the night may be spent.
Farther to the east, and running south-east from Luchon, is the Vallée
de la Pique, which leads up to the Port de Venasque. The mountains
round this valley are not so fine, and are mostly too easy to demand
attention. One exception is the Pic de la Pique (_c._ 8000 feet), a
small, sharp rock peak in the valley, with a great local reputation,
but not really of serious difficulty.
These are the only peaks of interest in the immediate neighbourhood of
Luchon. But by crossing the Port de Venasque (7900 feet), or preferably
some more interesting col to the west, and sleeping out, the Maladetta
group can easily be climbed. This massif faces the Port de Venasque,
and consists of a somewhat amorphous base from which rise several
granite ridges and summits--the Pic d’Albe (10,700 feet) on the west,
then the Maladetta (10,800 feet) and the Néthou (11,160 feet), from
which flow two large glaciers, then the Pic de Salenques, the Pic
Moulières, and finally also the Fourcanade (9400 feet). At the foot
of the Glacier du Néthou is a hut called the Rencluse. Most people
would have preferred a bivouac to the old refuge there, but a new
building has just been opened, and the track thereto from the Port de
Venasque was in 1919 being marked with blazes of green paint (a unique
phenomenon in the Pyrenees, at all events on the Spanish side).
The climbing on the Maladetta group is very easy on the whole. The
glaciers are simple, and the rock, though rotten, is easy. The
Fourcanade, a bold granite peak, more easily approached from Las Bordas
or Viella in the Val d’Aran than from Luchon, presents no difficulty
by the ordinary route from the south, but might afford some very
interesting fancy routes on the precipitous northern side. The best
climbing from Luchon lies on the main range, and the peaks here have
not been so thoroughly explored as those round Gavarnie; indeed there
is room for some most interesting new rock routes to be made. The
rock again is granite, and is much sounder than the limestone of the
Gavarnie peaks; and the main range provides some beautifully sound rock
arêtes.
The mountains round Gavarnie and Luchon are not big, are grouped
closely together, and the ascent of more than one can often be made in
a moderately long day. Therefore a party which clings to civilization
will soon exhaust the more important routes and be driven back on
making minor variations. Yet there are no other centres worthy of the
name. Of course there are places such as Cauterets, or the Baths of
Panticosa in Spain, from which a few peaks can be ascended, but these
can hardly be called centres. It follows, then, that a party which
wishes for any quantity or variety of mountaineering proper must sleep
either in inns or huts or must camp out, and inns are so rare and huts
are so dirty that it will be forced to camp out if it is to see the
most attractive parts of the range. For it is precisely the wildness
and solitude of these parts, far from human habitation,--of the Posets,
for instance, or the Balaitous, or the region east of the Maladetta
group,--that mark off the Pyrenees from the Alps and give them a charm
that is all their own. The wise climber will abandon centres and inns
and move along the main range, sleeping out, climbing such peaks as
attract him, and occasionally visiting some high village for the sake
of renewing his food supplies.
This is the only way in which to see and appreciate the Pyrenees, and
if the climber adopts it he will have to face problems very different
from those of the Alps. Though the ascents will be far easier than
those of first-class alpine peaks, yet the external help will be
infinitely smaller. He will find the country a primitive one, and if he
is to achieve success he must depend mainly on himself and little on
professional or artificial aid.
[Sidenote: Guides.]
In the first place, little help can be obtained locally. At Gavarnie
and Luchon there are a few capable men; but the majority of the class
called guides in the Pyrenees are guides rather in the old sense of
the word than in the newer sense of professional climbers. They are,
of course, competent to show the way over the mountains from one place
to another, and often even the easy routes up the peaks; sometimes
they are good rock climbers. But of actual mountaineering, as a rule
they know nothing. Most of them have little knowledge of snow craft or
of the use of the rope--which they are apt to regard as a danger to
themselves rather than as a safeguard to their party; and above all,
they have nothing of the high tradition of the alpine guide. A guided
party in the Pyrenees would save time below the snowline in getting
across country; but, provided they had a little experience of the Alps
and of English climbing, above the snowline they would usually be safer
alone.
There is also in the more remote districts a class of men who offer
themselves as guides, but in whom it would be unwise to put any trust
for any purpose whatever, especially in the off season when the
mountains are more than usually desolate.
Though brigandage is now extinct in the Pyrenees, there are still
persons who will seize any chance of returning to a modified form of
it. But even if we allow that some guides are better than others, the
Pyrenees remain essentially mountains for the guideless, and if the
climber takes a guide, he will lose half their charm while adding
little to his own safety or achievements.
[Sidenote: Maps.]
Again, in Switzerland, the climber rightly puts implicit confidence
in the accuracy of his maps even for minute detail. In the Pyrenees
he is unable to do so. There are three maps of importance, and none
of them approaches the excellence of the Siegfried map. The first is
that issued by the French Ministère de l’Intérieur, and published by
Hachette et Cie, in plain paper sheet. Its scale is small (1/100000),
it has no contour lines, it is rather indistinctly printed, it makes
little attempt to delineate accurately the higher mountains, and on
the Spanish side it gives no more than a general indication of the
geography of the country.
The map of the État-Major de la Guerre, which is on a larger scale
(1/80000), formerly sold at 1 fr. 20 c. a sheet, is even worse; this
also is not a contour map, and it stops entirely at the frontier, and
leaves the Spanish side a complete blank. Its printing, moreover, is
blurred and indistinct.
The third map is the most useful; it is drawn by M. Schrader, and
issued by the Club Alpin Français, in 6 sheets, and covers only the
High Pyrenees. It is absolutely essential for the Spanish side, and it
is best for the French side also. Its scale is only 1/100000, and it is
not quite so detailed as we might wish. But it gives the contours, and
it is clearly printed. Unfortunately most, if not all, of the sheets
are out of print and difficult to obtain.
Finally, there is said to be a Spanish military map of the High
Pyrenees; whether it exists or not, it is unobtainable by the public.
The defects of these maps are felt even more in the valleys than in the
high mountains. In climbing a peak in good weather comparatively little
help is needed from a map; but the configuration of the higher valleys
and gorges is such that for them a really good detailed map would be
invaluable. They are often narrow, steep and heavily wooded; paths are
few and very hard to find, or to keep to when found, and the existing
maps give little accurate indication of them. In consequence, it is
here that a guideless party has special difficulties, and these are
increased by the prevalence of the cirque formation. The upper valleys
are often cut into two parts by a horseshoe wall of rock, extending
right across them from one side to the other, and thus consist of an
upper and lower plane with a precipice between. In ascending a valley
it is usually not difficult to see an easy way up these cirques, but in
descending, when nothing can be seen between the immediate foreground
and the valley below, it is often hard to tell where the line of least
resistance lies. The map as a rule gives no clue, and a guideless party
may have to make several attempts to find a feasible route. Thus it is
really in the valleys, and especially in the Spanish valleys, where all
difficulties seem to be accentuated, that the lack of a good map is
most felt.
There is, however, a prospect that soon we shall be better equipped
in this respect, as the publication of the Pyrenean sheets of the new
French 1/50000 map is expected in the course of the next few years,
and there is also talk of the issue of a 1/20000 map of the Gavarnie
peaks. The reproduction of the 1/40000 manuscript map, which forms
the basis of the 1/80000 État-Major map (France only), has also been
discussed.
[Sidenote: Huts and Inns.]
Another respect in which the Pyrenees will be found more primitive than
the Alps is in the absence of climbing huts. There are, indeed, huts in
the Pyrenees in certain numbers, but they are shepherds’ huts, built
of uncemented stones with no flooring, and as a rule so filthy that no
civilized person would use them unless driven to it by great stress
of weather. The majority of the huts marked on the maps are of this
nature, and as they are liable to fall to pieces from time to time,
here also the maps may become untrustworthy. (A special instance of
this is the Cabane de Turmes, under the Pic des Posets; this is marked
in the Schrader map, but has for some time ceased to exist.) There are,
however, a very few climbing huts proper, especially near Luchon and
Gavarnie, either kept by private individuals for profit, or erected by
the C.A.F. on alpine lines.
Inns also are rarely to be found high up in the mountains; on the
French side they are more common than on the Spanish, and they are also
more likely to be good; in Spain they are sometimes fairly clean, but
always very primitive, with a peculiar style of cooking, involving a
lavish use of oil, which is extremely unpalatable to most Englishmen.
Probably the best inn in the high valleys on the Spanish side, except
at the Baths of Panticosa, which are on a high road, is at the thermal
establishment and shrine of Caldas de Bolis. It may be useful to
mention this for those who wish to explore the region east of the
Maladetta, as it finds no place in Joanne’s guide.
[Sidenote: Equipment.]
In these circumstances, huts and inns being both few and bad, a tent or
a sleeping-bag is an absolute necessity in the Pyrenees. The latter is
preferable for a party which wishes to be as free as possible; a tent
is, of course, more comfortable, but it almost necessarily involves
the taking of a mule, and the party will be at once restricted in
its movements; the mule will be unable to traverse peaks, and more
especially it will be unable to cross a large number of low cols which
involve no serious climbing, but which would be too difficult for four
legs. This means that the party would be able to cross the main range
only at a few points, and in moving along the range it would often be
forced down into the lower valleys. Again, in bad weather sleeping-bags
are not such a disadvantage in the Pyrenees as elsewhere, for their
limestone and schist tend to weather into caves, and if a bivouac is
made near a cave or an overhang or a shepherds’ hut (and there will
generally be little difficulty about finding one of these), shelter can
at once be found in the event of storm.
On the other hand, a party travelling without porters or mules and
sleeping out will find that it has a great weight to carry. The
sleeping-bags ought to be thick, as it will often be necessary
to bivouac at about 7000 feet, which is occasionally above the
tree-level, and warmth at night is worth a few extra pounds. Below
the tree-level it is easy to make a fire, but a large supply of wood
must be collected, and some wakefulness is required to prevent the
fire from going out in the small hours of the morning when the cold is
greatest. For cooking it is usually best to use an aluminium cooker
with methylated spirits. A large quantity of food must also be carried,
especially on the Spanish side, where a human habitation may not be
met with for four days on end. Occasionally a shepherd may be able to
provide some cheese, or a limb of an izzard, the Pyrenean chamois; but
a climbing party will have to rely mainly on the high villages for
supplies, and these are few and far between. The French villages are
more civilized, and will provide more luxurious food; but the Spanish
villages are more worth visiting, the people are kindly, and at least
the necessaries of life are obtainable. Usually they can provide
coffee, chickens, sardines, eggs and, of course, bread. But jam,
potted meats, compressed soups, etc., are better brought straight from
England, though they can be bought as a rule at the larger towns on
the French side. Chocolate is better bought on the French side, though
generally obtainable on the Spanish. It is curious that cows are rarely
kept in the high villages, and milk and butter are often unobtainable.
On the Spanish side most people will prefer to drink water, as the wine
has a peculiar taste; in France it is good, but rough. Streams, of
course, are plentiful in the mountains. The natives carry their liquor
in bags of goatskin, smooth on the outside and hairy inside; the hair
imparts a very goaty taste to the contents, so it is wise to add an
ordinary English metal water-bottle to one’s equipment. If one of the
party is a fisherman, it would probably pay to take a rod and line, as
many of the small lakes abound with trout. Some people carry with them
rope-soled shoes, alpargatas, which are used by the natives for walking
on the rough mule-paths and over grass. They are certainly light and
restful for one’s feet, but it is doubtful whether they are worth their
weight and bulk in one’s rucksack; for rock climbing they would be here
of doubtful use.
The usual alpine clothing should be worn.
The valleys are very hot in summer, but the temperature and weather in
the mountains are similar to those of Switzerland.
It is important to remember that often civilization is several days
distant, and in consequence many extras must be taken. Most of these
must be brought from England, as it is impossible to obtain real
climbing equipment on the spot. It is quite essential to carry a
first-aid case, including a few simple medicines, extra pairs of
snow-glasses, an extra folding lantern, plenty of candles and matches,
string, waterproof bags--sponge-bags do very well--to protect matches,
maps, etc. A prismatic compass with a protractor and an aneroid will be
found very useful for ascertaining the exact position of the party.
A passport should on no account be forgotten: the Customs officers and
frontier police give little serious trouble, but occasionally they
are apt to assert themselves, and in this case a passport has a most
soothing influence upon them.
If no member of the party knows Spanish, a conversation book would be
of use. A small knowledge of French is essential, and in each Spanish
village there is usually some one who knows French and will act as
interpreter. Still, it would save some trouble to be able to talk a
little Spanish; since the war especially knowledge of French seems to
have become rarer at some of the more remote Spanish inns. English, of
course, is unknown except in the larger French towns. Basque would
only be of use in the country west of the Vallée d’Aspe, where the
range is lower.
It is clear, then, that each member of a party ought to have a rucksack
of the largest size. His sleeping-bag, if he takes one, will fill most
of it, and the rest will be taken up by his extra clothes or his share
of food and equipment. In all, he will be carrying more than is usual
in the Alps (probably between 20 and 25 lb.), but not too much to
affect his enjoyment.
It is possibly a wise precaution for a party, starting out of
condition, to hire a mule to convey their rucksacks--which will be at
their heaviest at the start--as far as the first bivouac.
[Sidenote: Expense.]
One great advantage of a holiday spent in the Pyrenees is its
cheapness. This is partially due to the fact that the climber will
spend much of his time either in camp or else in small mountain
inns, where the charges are quite moderate as a rule, the chief
exceptions being the inns round the tourist centres, which tend to be
extortionate. On the Spanish side the stranger ought to make a bargain
with his host, who expects it of him as a matter of course. This is
particularly necessary if the hire of a mule is in question.
In addition, the journey from England is not expensive; the pre-war
return fare to any of the mountain termini ranged from £9 to £10 or £11
first class, and from £7 to £8 second class. Existing rates are perhaps
30 per cent or 40 per cent higher. Guides, if they are used, are also
cheap, 10 to 15 francs a day with food was a normal wage before the
war, though they would often demand more. Most mountains near any
civilization have a fixed tariff; the bigger peaks as a rule run from
20 to 30 francs, with a few running to 40 francs (pre-war prices). Thus
a party accustomed to the Alps will be surprised at the cheapness of a
holiday spent in the Pyrenees, unless, indeed, it spends much time in
the centres on the French side.
It is necessary to provide oneself with Spanish money for Spain. French
money is not accepted as a rule. If considerable loss over exchange is
to be avoided, it is desirable to obtain both French and Spanish notes
before leaving England. English money can be changed, at a price, in
the bigger French towns.
[Sidenote: Literature.]
Some knowledge of the literature of our mountains is almost essential
to the success of a climbing tour, and there is no lack of books and
articles on the subject. _Baedeker’s South-Western France_ is, of
course, good for the more civilized region, but makes no pretence at
being a mountaineer’s guide. Joanne’s _Pyrénées_ (Hachette et Cie,
1912, revised to 1914) is better, as it gives fairly detailed accounts
of the principal climbs, and contains a good general introduction.
Count Henry Russell’s _Grandes Ascensions des Pyrénées_ (Hachette,
1866) and _Souvenirs d’un Montagnard_ (Pau, 1888) are both of value;
they describe all the more important routes, but the style is emotional
rather than practical. Probably the climber will find Packe’s _Guide to
the Pyrenees_ (Longmans, 1867) of the greatest use; it is essentially
a mountaineer’s guide, and restricts itself to the region between the
Vallée d’Aspe and the Val d’Aran; its directions for climbing the
peaks are of a practical nature, and often give as much detail as is
necessary. Unfortunately it is out of print, and difficult to find. In
addition to these guides we have an account of two climbing holidays,
called _Through the High Pyrenees_ (Innes, 1898), by H. Spender and
H. Llewellyn Smith. This book gives a good picture of the country and
of the type of climbing, and it contains an excellent appendix on the
“Pyrenees as a Climbing Centre,” and an extremely useful bibliography,
including a full list of the many papers on Pyrenean climbing to be
found in past numbers of the _Alpine Journal_ and the _Annuaire_ of the
C.A.F. It is in these journals, and especially in the latter, that the
more difficult modern routes, accomplished since the publication of
Packe’s guide, are recorded, and here we have a ready means of knowing
in which volume to find them. Finally, Belloc’s _Pyrenees_ makes
interesting reading, but it is of more value to the walker than to the
climber, and it contains some imaginative detail.
* * * * *
From this short account it will be seen that the Pyrenees make no
appeal to climbers who are only content with long and arduous peaks and
difficult ice-work, or to those who prefer to climb from a comfortable
hotel or a clean hut and who dislike attending in person to the
troublesome details of bivouacking and cooking. But to the climber of
moderate ambitions, who is weary of the clatter of Swiss hotels or the
picnic-parties on Swiss peaks, there are no near mountains which offer
so attractive a refuge. The novice, also, who has spent a few summers
behind guides in the Alps will discover that one season of guideless
climbing in the Pyrenees will infinitely increase his knowledge of
mountaineering in the larger sense of the word; he will have experience
of route-finding both in the valleys and on rock and glacier, of
step-cutting, of using aneroid and compass and of camping, and he will
return to the greater peaks with a heightened capacity for appreciating
the mountains and their craft.