Rose in decent time, the weather looked good, the concierge enlisted a taxi so we were off to Alevia, a 3 km climb that I was glad I chose not to walk.  After showing the driver my proposed destination on my map, I think he tried to discourage me.  However, there was another route from the same trailhead that he felt would be better for me.  He apparently did some maintenance at one of the two communication towers that we could see on the top of the mountain range.  We drove almost to the start but I could see that one trail went to the left and another to the right and I was not sure which one he thought I should take.  The markings were clear on the left hand trail so that decided the issue.

It started with a cow path that was quite steep through low brush and brambles, necessitating a couple of stops to catch my breath.  There were also a few muddy bogs but they cleared up after some 500 metres. The markings and the footing were good so I was pleased with my choice.  Eventually there was a fence to climb but it was clear that the trail went beyond it.  Apparently it was to prevent the cattle from going up further, because the trail became much narrower, suited only to goats.  Actually I saw a herd of them a long way up prancing along what seemed to be sheer cliffs.  Even at this point the path ran perilously close to the edge of the mountain.  I tried hard not to look down too often because it made you realize that a misplaced step could send you hurtling down the mountain.  Fortunately it wasn´t too hard to look anywhere except where you should plant your feet.  This continued for a long time and then came the switchbacks that the goats used to climb the steeper parts of the rock face I guess.  After about a dozen there was another gate to climb that led into a relatively level green pasture with horses, cattle sheep and more goats.  While negotiating the switchbacks three huge golden eagles swooped by, probably checking out their next meal I thought. 

I took a good rest in the pasture and a GPS reading, indicating an altitude of 565 metres or a climb of 200 metres from the trailhead.  On this kind of plateau were a lot of stone fences and animal shelter buildings and the trail now followed cart tracks so it was no longer that demanding.  However, the trail often went down and then up over hills and markings became less frequent .  Before too long the tower to which I was headed came into clear view, so there was little need for markings anyway.  It was often much shorter to take my own route and that worked out well except once when I made a steep scramble to regain the trail to be faced by a half dozen fierce looking horned cattle in my straight ahead.  They didn´t look upset just curious I thought, but they seemed to have no intention of moving on while I faced them for a minute or so.  Discretion being the better part of valour I devised another detour that took me to the tower.  Wow, what a view.  I had been able to see the Bay of Biscay for a while but now there were dozens of mountains in view too.  Many of the peaks were higher and some had snow caps but I resisted the urge to take on the next one and contented myself with taking another GPS reading (720 metres).  I can now understand why mountain climbers just have to climb.  Even though I was getting tired upon gaining the pasture level, there was no thought of not forging on to the top. 

On the way down I totally passed up trying to follow the cart trail or the signed trail but set the GPS to direct me to the point at the edge of the pasture and choosing whatever path seemed good.  I came out 9 metres away from where I had stopped on the way up (I thought it should have been closer).  Going back down the switchbacks and goat trails was more intimidating than coming up.  It is hard not to look off into the empty space in front of you.  I did keep switching my walking stick from hand to hand so that it was always on the down side of the path.  All went well to the next gate but it seemed longer than I recalled.  The cattle trail was not a big challenge now but I managed to scratch my left wrist on a raspberry cane.  I stopped at the top of the 3 km road to attend to my wrist and get some rest on a stone wall enclosing a mare and her foal.

Going down the road was the worst part of the hike.  Every step was the same as the previous one, the grade was steep as roads go and of course the surface was hard.  It became very painful and even looking forward to the beer that I knew I would have didn´t do that much after a while.

The beer was good and so was the second one with some kind of a bar sandwich.  The nap that followed was good too but when I awoke I had a runny nose and all of my leg muscles were screaming especially those on the front of my shins and my hips.  I was feeling so miserable I didn´t go out to eat but just had another granola bar, thinking it was good that tomorrow would be a travel day.

Tags: Spain, Travel, Tag Index

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