Grand Raid de Pyrenees and summer 2017

We set off for the continent  little later in August than usual but the plan was the same- one big race in France, lots of heat and sun, some good mountain walks and then either via ferratas or climbing or both. I am trying to find a different 'big' race each year as it seems time is running out as age catches me up and there are so many I want to do. The problem is I like some I have already done and so also want to return to them. This year the problem was solved when the GRP offered a new longer ultra as part of their 10th anniversary.

The red profile was ours!

Instead of 170km we would do 220km and with about 13,000km so I could go back as it would be a different course! Bob was going to do the 80km again and hope that this year they would not cut his course 15km from the end due to thunder and lightning.

Sleepy Vielle Aure before the racers arrived

It was a long drive all the way through France in rather damp weather but by our first day in Vielle Aure, the tiny village that hosts the race, the weather was back to hot and sunny. After such a terrible time at the LTofBradwell I was more than a little anxious about the event. My foot was better than it had been but still sore even just walking barefoot on a hard surface. I tried to calm myself with the belief that we would be out for 40-50 hours and that this would mean a fair bit of walking and jogging which doesn't seem to trouble my foot so much. I also seem to have developed a skill and fast stomping/walking up big hills even if my running is not up to so much now. With almost a week to go before the race the village was very quiet. We parked up on the lane by the river and slowly and steadily more vans arrived over the coming days. I guess at this time many would suggest tapering but I was far too excited and anxious to do that. On our first day I explored a very steep climb up and onto the final ridge and then found an easy way back down. It reassured me a bit - my foot was no worse and I loved being out in the heat. The second day Bob and I set off to do the first and final sections of the race. I was interested to have some idea of target times for the first few places up to the Col de Portet and we both wanted to see what the new finish from that Col would be like. From Vignec to Granges de Lias was just as I remembered it.

Granges de Lias

Then the continuing climb up to Les Cabanes actually seemed easier. I was happy plodding up to Cabane des Tortes and then it suddenly gets very steep so I set myself a time limit and got my head down. That would be the first big climb of about 1450m done.

Merlan from Col de Portet and then Neouvielle National Park

 Today I lay in the sun and waited for Bob. He had taken a wrong turning and so was some time.

Col de Portet looking at first high part of route

At least in the race it would be well marked. The final section of the race back down to Vielle Aure was new to us but we both thought it was  a great route - nicely runnable along the ridge, a short steep section down to Soulan and then a very easy path back to Vignec before a final few km along the river path.

Our final ridge (not the road)

With fresh legs we both imagined running hard down this last section in the race- yeah, right.

Hey this will be great running- not after all those miles

We had a day exploring the other side of the valley and found a wonderful mountain walk and then a fourth day stomping up a steep climb to the summer pastures.

In between there was a fair bit of ice cream and a few beers.

The Sunters arrived and we met up for coffee and a chat. Albert like me had entered the longest race, the others would do the 80km Tour du Lacs like Bob.
I spent most of Wednesday relaxing and faffing before registration at 3pm and then handing in three drop bags at the end of the afternoon. The race briefing was in French but I followed most of it and the RO always does a question and answer bit for non french speakers at the end. The forecast was for gales on the 'new' highest bit of our course and there was already talk of holding the lead runners for a couple of hours. The forecast was a little more mixed than when I raced two years ago but it would be mostly dry and hot.

Dark as we left the van

A 6am start meant we would have very little  running in real dark this year so I opted not to bother with a torch for now. The first section is on lit roads and then on the big track from Vignec I knew other runners lights would be more than enough for half an hour or so.

Things getting lively in the square

It did still feel chilly to me though as we congregated in the village square. I found Albert but then we lost each other when we went in search of toilets. The race limit was 800 but only 500+ had entered this long ultra. It makes it small and friendly, all the atmosphere but none of the shoving.

Nervous smiles

I assumed he was ahead of me at the start but in fact he started very gently and in fact I never saw him at all. When I arrived at our highest point later on the Pic du Midi I was told he had dropped out with injuries.

 I stuck to my plan of a reasonable start but did not let myself get carried away and so I arrived at all points to the Col de Portet within about 5 mins of my plan. I lost a few places with a toilet break at Merlans ski restaurant but caught some by being more efficient at the food stop. I still hadn't seen Albert but was settling into the rhythm and finding myself running within a group of a dozen people over the next few hours.

Bob at Merlans on his race- thanks Albert

Having said that with only 523 on the start line we were spread quite thinly along the trails. The next section from Merlan past lakes and through high mountains is beautiful. The Col de Bastan came quite easily and then it was a largely downhill section towards La Mongie and the ski resort. I say mostly downhill beacuse there was about 200m of climb. I felt I was running well (for me) and enjoying myself. There was a young Italian girl in a very distinctive pink skirt running at the same sort of pace and this helped me to push hard. The supporters at La Mongie were incredible- the noise they made with cheers, clapping and cow bells was deafening. It was now hot and sunny so there were dozens of people out watching and I have to say they made us feel such starts that it was quite emotional. I refilled both water flasks but in all the excitement I forgot to go inside for food. Not a serious mistake as I was carrying plenty but it made me think about concentrating.

  As I left La Mongie and began to contour and then climb to the Col de Sencours I started dipping my cap and buff in streams to keep me cool. I was overtaken by a small number of runners who had obviously had a very conservative start here but I did also pass a few others flaked out on the side of the path, sitting in the shade of rocks etc. By the time we got to the Col it was roasting.

Col De Sencours from above- Albert again

 It is only 7km up to the Pic du Midi and back but there is little shade and no food or water at the top. I made sure I had both before I left the Col. This is the only out and back section in the race but it gives you a good opportunity to see the lead runners and also to check out who is in front of you and by how much. The first lady came racing down and must have been in the top 15 or so (she finished 10th) but it was some time before I saw the second lady. I was sure I also counted a third lady but apparently I was wrong and the marshall on the summit insisted I was third with the young Italian girl not far behind me.

Albert's photo supporting the 80km race

I got a lovely surprise at the top as Michelle and Abbie were shouting support. It seemed rude to rush off so I stopped for a short chat. At this stage my foot was more than bearable although I was worried about the descent on a stony track.

As it was I flew down and grabbed more food and drink before heading off to more mountains, cols and lakes. This area is not quite a rocky or rugged so I found some grassy paths to run on. It does have some high cols tho - Col de la Bonida at 2302, plus d'Aoube and Bareilles at over 2200 before two small er cols lead to the ski area of Hautacam. I was now racing and keeping an eye on third place. I had good company through the Lac Bleu area and I arrived at the CP happy. I was determined to look after my feet so in between soup, cheese and other food I shook out my socks and shoes. I wanted to be well fuelled for the next few miles as much  would be downhill and even some on a road. The initial path down through fields was wetter than two years ago and nice and soft for my foot but the road and then track started to make it sore. At least this time I knew where to expect the Pierrefitte CP. Last time as we got close to the valley floor I thought it was soon, only to find that there is a big loop and some climb to avoid the town roads.
This was our first drop bag aid station. I washed my feet, changed my socks, and ate. Sadly I struggled with the pasta but I did manage soup and some solids.  I restocked my own supplies of food- threw out the home made flapjack that I just didn't fancy but took more cashew nuts and mint cake. Strange the things we decide to like! I also took off a sweat drenched shirt and sorted my sack ready for the first night. First lady was about 2 hours ahead of me at this point and I had been going over 14 hours. My Italian friend caught me here and we set off together up Turon de Bene. Before long it was dark enough for torches and I was on my own but with other lights in sight. No CP up here this year which got me confused for a bit. Our new route set off down through trees to Estaing. It was not an easy path in the dark with trip hazards galore. The men got ahead until the terrain improved. Arriving at Estaing I ate but suddenly felt tired. I tried to figure out what to do about sleep. To wait until Cauterets seemed daft as it would then be light but if we ran through two nights I would need some sleep. I lay on a camp bed and tried to relax. It was too noisy and I was too wired. I eventually slept for 10 mins or so in a 30 min rest. I set off again into the dark and now it was very misty with steady drizzle. Not great for torch light even with flourescent streamers marking the way. Before the Col d' Iheou we had bunched into a small group of six although on the long drop to Cauterets we soon spread out again. Some time in this bit the sun came up and the drizzle stopped. I arrived at the CP still 3rd lady. I grabbed my drop bag and tried to get organised. Changing my socks I found a small blister and the bottoms of my feet were a bit mashed. A kind Kine man treated both and they soon felt good. Clean socks but I stuck with the same shoes as my foot seemed to be finding them OK. I left without my poles but luckily realised only a few paces beyond the door.The new day really lifted my spirits and I tried to find out where the lead men were and what was happening to the gales and the race route. I was assured we were doing the full 220km but very soon it was clear that we were not. Instead of heading south into the Gavarnie and some seriously big mountains and technical trail we were sent east. I was disappointed but also relieved. Apparently they had held the leaders for two hours before deciding to cut that section - partly because the gales did not stop up there and partly I think because they were worried at how few were going to finish (200 had already stopped by the time they came to leave Cauterets). I didn't know it at the time but my Italian friend stopped there too. I had seen her arrive looking much more jaded than I expected.
I had run well on day one, survived the night but I was now starting to struggle. My foot was bearable but a new issue developed. A cramping ball of discomfort and then pain under my left ribs. I tried folding and stretching to ease it and even took some rests. I was very frustrated but struggling to run even downhill. At least the views were good and we were now so spread out that very few runners came past me.  Nearing the valley floor I looked for the town of Luz. Hmm, it was some miles further along the valley. It meant a roller-coaster of paths along the valley-side. I could not believe how many little climbs there were; the town after all is in the valley bottom. I should have realised that my loss of humour meant I needed food but I was too tired. It was a relief to stagger into Luz and find our third drop bags. I changed socks again and then decided to change shoes. I am not sure why really as although they did have more cushioning the others were doing OK. I faffed and tried to eat and managed some but really I wanted to be on my way. I could remember the next few miles from two years ago and set off alone. The rest had eased my rib area pain (for a while) so I cracked on while I could. Climbing onto the hillside I was sure I saw a pink skirt and this made me even more determined. I would NOT be overtaken now.  By Barreges I was tired but happy to have done some faster miles. It didn't last. As I left the town I wished I had a few euros for an icecream but had to content myself with blackberries and billberries once I was on  the hill. The refuge de la Glere was over 1600m above Luz so we had been steadily climbing for some time and it was getting steeper. The soup was wonderful but the pain was now really slowing me up. I tried lying down, stretching, hunching but nothing worked so there seemed little to do except get on with it. Rock hopping up to the Hourquette de Mounicot took my mind off all else for some time. It was brutal but beautiful. Without a marked route it would have been very tricky. Another climb to the Hourquette d'Aubert at 2488m meant we were on the final stretch (sort of). This was the edge of their National Park the Neouvielle. Dramatic peaks and splendid views really helped. The path became more runnable and soon the big lakes came into view. I had hoped to run this section, especially when we hot the tarmac downhill but in the end it was a real struggle. The men I was with pulled away and it took me until the CP at Oredon to ctach them and then only because they ate more and spent more time at the CPs than me. I had it in my head that we now just climbed over a ridge to Merlans and then that was it; Col de Portet and down. Ha ha. IN fact it took me about two and a half hours and towards the end of this time I was convinced I was in some Escher parallel universe where all paths went up and up but never got anywhere. Heading up the ski piste to Merlans we were suddenly exposed to the winds. Even here it was gale force and had blown some of the tapes away and was knocking me about. Perhaps they were wise to chop the course. I stopped to put my cag on and staggered into the CP. I did not want to sit and seize up  but kept having food pressed on me. Climbing to the Col de Portet was hilarious as the tapes had been blown away and people were fanned out widely. I went off course but then found the big vehicle track and stuck to that. I had really been looking forward to the ridge run as it is wide and grassy. I did the best I could. The drop to Soulans was tough and my fight had gone. I knew I would not be caught now and I knew I could not catch the second lady. I ambled down to the village, stopped at the fountain for water and then continued down to Vignec.  I was determined not to blow it and fall at this stage and let myself believe this caution allowed me to wimp out of trying hard. Poor mental strength. It did mean that I reached the river path in a reasonable state and was able to jog back to the finish and look ridiculously fresh as I ran up the red carpet.

2.18am

Bob was not expecting us back until after he had started in the morning and he needed to sleep before his race anyhow. I sat in the square chatting and had a very thorough wash in the fountain.

so many lights in the square it felt like midday

I then had to explain to marshalls in poor french at 2am that this was so I did not disturb my husband too much as he would be getting up at 4.30 ready to run.

It was only a short amble back to the van and then I stripped and fell into bed. I woke in a panic at 4.55am thinking Bob had missed his race. I had not heard him get up and go and certainly did not have time to dress and get to his start. Bugger.
I spent most of the next day getting a shower, wandering around in a daze, sitting with my legs in the fountain, cheering on other runners and eating!! My legs felt fine really, not up to a big run perhaps but I could do stairs fine, which says it all really.... should have run more on day 2.

On reflection am I happy with the race. Yes- after LToBradwell I really wasn't sure I would complete the course, my foot behaved better than I dared hope, I made the podium as 3rd F and was 1st FV50, the slow first night in the clag cost me some time and I would not have had the 30 min sleep if I had known we were not going to run a whole second night.

The next FV50 - so made up to get the prize

Given the pain in my rib area I am pleased I stuck at it when it would have been easy to give in. BUT... the race was less than 20km longer than the one 2 years ago and I was over 9 hours longer. Yes, I know I am getting older but that doesn't count.

The winning time was an amazing 26 hrs 26 minutes but only the first 3 men made it in under 30 hours. First lady was fantastic at 35 hrs 22, the 2nd F at 42 hrs 56 and me at 44 hrs 18.
523 started the race and only 299 finished  - quite a serious fall out.

I have no idea if the 220km will be a one off and whether they will revert to the usual length next year or not. It would be nice to go back and do the Gavarnie part but it owuld be tough.
Bob completed his race this time. Unfortunately I had stayed up all day and all evening checking on his progress and then found a friend was up at Col de Portet. They agreed to ring me when his family ran through and I knew Bob would be slower. So I went to bed. Unfortunatley both the friend and I fell deeply alseep so Bob arrived back at the van and I missed him on the finish line. Oops.

Knackered finisher

The prize giving in the village square was great. I love the low key but wonderful prizes here. I got a hoody, sunglasses, a spa day, two night BandB plus a huge bag of wine and local produce.

All this was finished off with an enormous closing buffet where we all ate far too much.

After a celebratory meal with the Sunters we moved on. The village had gone back to its sleepy state and we had mountains and Via Ferattas calling.
I may update this when the official photos are published this weekend.
We found 3 in Spain and then started heading slowly north to make the drive less onerous. I at last got to visit Carcasonne which was lovely.

We never managed to rock climb but we did manage 7 more ferattas including the hardest one we have ever done. I love the high Cevennes and limestone Causse.

Washing in fountains and swim bathing in a lake and camping wild in the van is what I love best (in the hot dry weather obviously). By 10th Sept the weather was changing unless we drove south which seemed tempting but wrong. We had a  very cloudy day in the Puy de Dome area and settled for coming home. A good summer trip.

Belatedly- the Long Tour of Bradwell

I knew this wouldn't be good and I was correct: I was rubbish. It is a tough race - short enough that you need to RUN, long enough and with climbs to get you and this year a bit muddy in places. It was good to see friends again and a lovely surprise to meet up with one our main sponsors and supporters, Si Berry from Betaclimbing designs.

 My lack of fitness showed and my foot caused me as much bother as it ever has. The shame is that it is a lovely race - great route, wonderful and varied views plus a very nice RO and team etc. Oh, and the weather is always wonderful. Except this year we started in light drizzle.

I started steadily and quite enjoyed the pull up onto the first tops. I then lost lots of places being a real softy on the greasy descent of Cave Dale. Castelton came and went in a blur as I tried to catch up runners as we headed up again to Hollins Cross before dropping to Edale. I didn't find the best route to the CP on the Druids Stone but it was OK. Then the wheels started to come off. My foot was really sore and my legs were just fit enough to run - even on the drop back into the Edale valley.  Climbing up to the ridge and Lose Hill I slipped on a stone and jarred forward. Suddenly I was doubled over with a sharp pain under my left ribs. This has happened twice before and is very weird. It feels like a golf ball size lump that cramps and then with massage and rest it disappears after a few minutes. I am falling apart!

I felt chilly after the heat of Albania

 I plodded on the best I could and tried to enjoy the day. I was thinking that I should have caught Bob and Dick up well before this - they had set off early with the ROs permission. I found Dick at the next CP but Bob was still up ahead and climbing onto the moor and Win Hill when I met him.

At least now the sun was out and the views were lovely. I ran reasonably well on the moors and down to the reservoir but my foot was agony by the time I reached the old railway line. This should be a fast run but I was reduced to a walking hobble. At the next CP I fell into a chair, removed my shoe and tried everything I could to ease my foot. I nearly dropped out there but sheer bloody mindedness made me continue. The pull uphill and onto Stanedge seemed to go on and on and it was a relief to reach the top.

Thanks to Nick Ham for these 5 photos

I briefly caught Nick again at the top Burbage CP and then spent the rest of the race trying to keep him in sight or trying to catch him up again. It was now warm and sunny - normal LToB service had been resumed. I did manage to 'run' (slowly) a fair bit of the section down through Burbage and towards Hathersage but any hard surface made my foot worse again. The woods up to Abney were muddier than usual but I reached to top with Nick in sight. I even gained on him slightly as we struggled up the last lane. Unfortunately at the top he shot off along the gravel road and I was all done. I had gone for comfort not studs and so was slower than I would have liked on the drop through the bracken too (and the comfort hadn't worked anyway). Normally reaching the village picks me up but this year I didn't care if people saw me walking some of it. What a relief to finish. A PW of 7 hrs 29 , about 20 minutes slower than last year I think, which is less than I feared at some stages. On the plus side Nick was beaming and pleased to have beaten me and in the end I did actually increase my short race Runfurther points. (yes I was surprised too).

Not sure what to do about my foot now but I think I need to try again to get it resolved. Having tried a consultant who was sure he would find a neuroma but then failed to do so perhaps I will try a sports podiatrist next.
This doesn't bode well for a 220km race in the Pyrenees with 13,000m of climb in a week or so time.

Does big hill walking count as training for a long ultra race in the Pyrenees?

Actually I think I know the answer is "No, not really" but I am trying to reassure myself that it will all be OK on the day.  We had planned to walk the Peaks of the Balkans trail which is 192km with about 10,000m of climb. The official map has daily descriptions and profiles on the reverse and splits the walk into ten stages. Sounds impressive until I noted that my race in the Pyrenees would be 220km and with over 13,000m of climb. Eek. In the end we modified the PoB route in a couple of places and included a number of peaks so our trip probably exceeded the race total in km and m - but it did take 15 days of walking.  I say we as the trip was Bob, friend Dick and me.  Dick has been to Albania before and I am always keen to visit new places, especially mountains.

Arapit- our first view and our last peak

We arrived in Tirane late at night and a few hours apart so we met up at breakfast. It was hot and sunny which I love. We sorted transport (an unlicensed taxi) to Skhoder where we had a hotel booked.

I liked Skhoder better than Tirane

A lazy day changing some money into Lek, buying gas for the stove and generally looking around, drinking beer, eating ice cream etc. The next morning our unlicensed taxi did not appear (we had obviously driven too hard a bargain) so we walked into town and started again. We soon had a similar deal and in a back street climbed into an ancient Merc. As we headed to Thethi the roads changed from dual carriageway to tarmac road but with  massively broken edges. We stopped in a village and bought a huge water melon for later.

Temps in the high 30s

Heading up into the mountains the road had been improved and the tarmac extended. Sadly the car by then was over heating badly. With donations of water from other vehicles we made it to the top and started on the gravel road descent. I tried to ignore the fact that the car was still over heating as I admired my first views of the amazing mountains. Half way down we spotted a path on a hairpin that would allow us to hike to the bottom and join our trail. We hoped it might also mean the 'taxi' could stop at the next bend, get water from the cafe and make it back over the top.
It was late morning now so we decided to eat as much of the water melon as we could for lunch. We had all opted to travel light and a water melon would not be easy or fun to carry. I was actually using my mountain marathon 24L pack. I thought I had been quite ruthless with my kit but would take even less in future and not bother with the long trousers and extra T shirt I travelled in. Nor would I take the towel- a flannel would do. I had shorts x2, T shirts x2, knickers x3, socks x3, thin fleece, primaloft jacket, cag, over trousers, flip flops, bivy bag, silk liner, hat, titanium kettle/pot, mug, head torch, phone and charger, camera, tiny first aid kit and wash kit, dehydrated meals x2 and a fair selection of cereal bars, nuts and fruit along with two water bottles. Without water it was well under 7kg.

Travel light- small MM pack

So, back the water melon. OK, I admit the blame. I placed it on the ground next to my sack and it rolled off quickly gathering speed. I did catch it but not before it hit the track and burst open. It solved the problem of whether we could cut it open and the odd speck of gravel or dust wasn't too bad.

Our first day walk was hot and the guys were suffering but the views were amazing

and the route had a combination of gravel tracks, open beech woods, meadows, narrow mountain paths,

rocky sections, a rocky dry river bed and a short section on tarmac at the end.

This day also set the scene for finding accommodation- ask and you never know. We approached a bar decorated in fairy lights. It was full and wasn't quite what we had in mind but it was now dark. They were full (thankfully) but a local guy drinking there soon has us in his vehicle and whisked us off down the road, over the dry river and to his guest house. For 13 euros we had a room with comfy beds, electric, a shower and breakfast. For a small extra we had beer and a lift along the tarmac road in the morning.
Day 2 saw us head away from the 'touristy' area and a long gravel road to Cerem. Local kids are tasked with spotting trekkers and trying to get them to stop for refreshments and accommodation before others in the village. We had turkish coffee in Cerem - the first of many. The path then climbed up through woods and pastures.

Paying for coffee, tea and Raki after being invited into their home

On one high pasture we were asked to stop for herb tea, coffee and Raki in a shepherds hut. After this the path was a bit vague in places but we made it to the edge of Doberdol

 where we were met by Lisa, a very self possessed 12 year old who insisted we should stay at her family guest house as it was the cheapest and the best.

It was also the closest.

A great find- our room for three was great, and the simple solar shower and toilet fine. What really made it great was the food and welcome. Coffee and biscuits on arrival, a huge three course meal that evening and a wonderful breakfast of bread, jam, cheese, eggs, curds and whey and a huge pot of tea. In fact tea or coffee when ever we wanted it.

Breakfast in the sun

All this with a smile and from a tiny cabin with no electric. We soon decided to add in a peak and have two nights here.

Looking back to Doberdol

There was lots of rebuilding on this summer pasture and some of the homes looked as if they would be able to cope year round unlike the shepherds huts that are only used for a few summer months between the snows.

 Our walk to Gjerivica was superb. We initially missed the small side path to the correct col but got to include a nameless peak of 2425m on the way. Once through the col the path contoured round a huge bowl before climbing through a rocky col and then heading up to the top.

The glacial scenery was superb and we could see south for miles into Kosovo.

The summit had the Albanian flag- the locals here feel they are all Albanian people regardless of the political boundaries. The scorching hot day led to thunderstorms and strong winds over night. By 8am the rain had stopped and we emerged to another great breakfast before heading off up the steep valley side. I was keen to take in the peak on the border of all three countries - Trekufiri 2365m so dropped my sack and had a little jog there and back before we continued north to Roshkodol Pass.

 We almost missed the sign leading down the valley to Roshkodol itself and had the only really  torrential rain of the trip for a short while here. Our map was helpful but needed more detail and the description on the reverse has several errors around here (E not W etc) and this issue continued through this corner of Kosovo.

Interesting hair cuts- we saw some with diamonds and all sorts

With a whole village missing from our map we got confused and had just started to consider a night in a small hut when a shepherd pointed the way for us. Again on the edge of the village we were greeted by  a small child keen to take us home.

This time a small alpine chalet with a roaring aga type stove. Kosovo is marginally more affluent that Albania and the prices reflected this but at 25 Euros for coffee and baked potato on arrival, a big evening meal, treats of yogurt, whey drink, curds and a big breakfast it was still good value.
We learnt an important lesson the next morning. Having asked the way to Rogova Camp we had not considered that they would get there by driving and so that was the way they described. This route was then confirmed by a van driver who offered us a lift. Eventually the penny dropped and we had to retrace our steps. Ah well. We found the path although as it was tiny and nothing like the mule track it is not surprising we had missed it. Here we should have perhaps made a detour to Guri i Kuq 2522m as the path down to Rogova camp was steep, muddy and over grown. Then in a pasture and area of logging we lost the path altogether. We opted for the most likely looking track which then ran out. A couple of comedy hours followed as we headed down through beech woods with steep slopes. Fortunately the deep leaf litter helped with grip and we used a plastic water pipe in the hope it would led to civilisation. It was also a handy abseil aid a couple of times. As a nav aid it worked fine until the final deep river where it crossed about 3 metres above our heads. Still it did lead to the road and we emerged in roughly the right place unlike our Belgian friends who even with a gps lost the path and took the logging road north. A coffee in the sun dried us off and we set off on the climb to Reke e Alleges. This section was not great with tarmac and then gravel road and less interesting mountains but was made worth while by the guesthouse Ariu run by Mustafa family. As the only guests we had the 6 person room and hot shower to ourselves. The evening meal outdid those so far - chicken thighs in sticky tomato rice, peppers baked in cheese, Baruk (cheese and spinach pastry) with beer to start and a very smooth Raki to finish. For breakfast we found a new delight of fried puff bread along with huge mounds of homemade butter, cheese and jam.

This northern loop of the trail was for me the least interesting walking and has less spectacular mountains.

We found plenty of billberries and raspberries today and soon emerged on a high pasture. The path to Pepaj was fine  but somehow we missed a turn to Drelaj and after a long descent on forest roads emerged on new tarmac.

 It was easily put right and had only added a tiny distance before we rejoined our trail and arrived in Dugaive for lunch. This was a huge undulating meadow with scattered houses and most seemed to be holiday homes not shepherds. The path to Kucishte back in the Rogova valley was lovely.

Somewhere in there is yesterdays daring descent on the pipe

Sadly the route up the other side to Liqenat was on a zig zag tarmac road for several km. I think if I return I would miss the northern loop and hitch along the Rogova valley or even do the Guri i Kuq peak and go straight to Liqenat. Again though at the end of the day we fell on our feet. The hotel and chalets looked up market and expensive (although we later found out they were quite a reasonable price) so we set off in search of a more typical guest house. Unlike in Albania kids did not arrive to drag us in. Eventually we spotted a lady sitting on her door step. She spoke no English but we mimed that we  wanted a bed and food. The house was still being built so the toilet was a wooden box up the hill and a hose pipe outside for water.

Our hosts

Her farmer husband appeared and we were treated to coffee and chocolates. At this point it became clear we were guests, not paying guests. Amazing that those with so little can be so generous. We ate with the couple- a huge communal pan of Burak with pickled peppers.

and their son

Later their son arrived home. He was a waiter at the hotel earning a euro an hour and aspiring to so much more. With him as translator we had a great evening chatting. The next morning after a huge breakfast and being given a packed lunch we said our goodbyes. They did not want payment but we insisted.

Heading south we arrived back in the mountains, first past glacial lakes and then onto the Kosovan/Montenegro border. Here we modified the PoB route as dropping to to Babino Polje appeared to give us a forest walk the next day without much interest.

Need to go back and do this horseshoe

 Instead we opted for path 544 along the ridge. It started fine but soon became daring- I suspect 544 is the total number ever to walk it! By late afternoon we were struggling to find a water source that we trusted enough to bivy near. We dropped to close to Katun Bogic and found a grassy hollow but sadly we lost the sun early and the mountain ridge blocked the morning sun. It was a chilly first bivy night. The stars were amazing, shooting stars included.

We were soon up in the sunshine the next morning and on an easy contouring slowly climbing track. Our hopes of getting up Veliki Krs  were changed as once we reached the col the way became unclear and looked tricky. None of us fancied major effort in the heat only to have to turn back so we turned instead to Hridski Krs that was only 16m lower and after a steep but easy walk gave us perfect views.

 A drop to the lake Hridsko Jezero over a very boulder choked path allowed us to regain the PoB trail again. A short section of easy track brought us to a brand new hikers hut and then a path onto the ridge that would drop us towards Plav. This was easy downhill walking in pleasant scenery. We met up with the Belgians again and swapped stories. The official at the national park / border post briefly questioned us but didn't seem to want to see any paper work. Chatting we missed the path and ended up on the gravel road in Korita. It was very hot and as the road turned to tarmac we hitched to the outskirts of the town. Arriving on a Saturday wasn't ideal and the woman in tourist info was no help. We stopped in a bar/restaurant for a drink and asked there.

Plav

They were full but he phoned around and then drove us to a hotel the other side of the lake. It was a bit remote but we were pleased to get a room and shower. I soon started to think of this hotel as Fawlty Towers. Montenegro likes to think it is better and more affluent than its neighbours but it could learn plenty from them. Superficially the hotel was fine but on closer inspection bits were unfinished and uncared for. It took a while to get a beer and one waiter kept avoiding us - perhaps fearful of having to speak English.

Fawlty Towers - a great starter

We did have a lovely evening meal but could not have chips as there were no potatoes? and no coffee as there was no water? Later we could get no hot water in the shower and when we tried to pay by credit card we were told no even though we had been told yes when we arrived. We planned a day or rest next- washing, lazing, exploring and restocking our food supplies. The hotel would not call a taxi but we caught one as he dropped off a fisherman. Plav was full of returning migrants, many from Canada, and their families who had been born abroad but who return every summer for a month to sit in cafes, swim in the lake and socialise showing off their new wealth.

An added extra

We were lucky as there was a festival of local foods and then an Albanian band and parade in national costume. Bit strange as we were now in Montenegro but everyone seemed happy.
We agreed on a taxi or hitch up the first section of route as it was road. After bread and cheese in the sun we hitched into town and then found a young taxi driver prepared to take us up the tarmac and then gravel road and so save an hours boring walking. Our block of hard cheese had melted to a sloppy mess and never resoldified so we resorted to dunking bread as in fondue. After a couple of hours on forest tracks and paths were emerged into meadows. The katun which PoB said would have food had burned down after lightning so we pushed on up an incredibly steep path to Bajrack and then a lovely grassy ridge to Vrh Bora.

Beautiful mountains in all directions

We dropped our sacks for the peak of Maje e Fazlis and then quickly found a fantastic water source and a flat grassy area for our bivy. Lots of cold water to refresh and an evening of lying in the sun.

A much warmer bivy

The next day was hot and sunny. We stashed our packs and climbed up to the Kolatta peaks.

Up through a series of hidden valleys

Wonderful scenery,

easy walking,

 amazing views down into the Valbonne valley and the huge mountains beyond.

Podi e Kollata would be the highest peak in Monenegro if in fact it was not just over the border in Albania.

On the way down we stopped by the big cave still full of snow and allowed the draught to act as air conditioning for a while.

The rest of the walk was downhill to Vusanje. This time a mobile phone had alerted a guest house owner to our arrival and we were escorted down the track and to a terrace for a beer. Another blow out meal was followed by a good nights sleep. Breakfast was a massive salami omelet plus the usual bread, cheese, jam etc. We had asked if we could buy bread but were slightly taken aback to be presented with two huge loaves, a whole stick of salami, 5 enormous tomatoes and a great plastic tub full of cheese. We set off for Zastan via the blue eye well fuelled. Again we made a stash of our gear and carried on towards Maja Roshit.

On a high col we lost the path. Bob was hot and knackered to lay in the shade. Dick and I went exploring. I made it to the far and high col and even onto the mini peak but decided time was too short to explore further and make it to the summit. Arriving back at Zastan we selected our spot to bivy and Bob realised he had left his primaloft in Vusanje.

The best option seemed for me to wake early run down and power walk back up. I would be quicker on my own. A nice 14km warm up start to the day.
Once I was back we continued our trek to Liqenet Jezerces and up to the mini glacier.

 Now the scenery was truly stunning again. This SW corner of the whole route is definitely my favourite.

Dick was shocked at how much the glacier had shrunk but at least there was still the vital water source for the day and our overnight stop.

Spot the walkers for scale!

The walk to the peak looks quite short on the map but it starts with limestone slabs, then a huge boulder field and then smaller paths across scree.

 From the col it then turns towards the mountain itself and becomes steep, rocky and with some scree. We met a Czech couple coming down declaring that it was too dangerous.

Our toughest peak

It was tricky and in a couple of places I was not comfortable or happy but we made it to the top. 2694m.

Again fantastic views with layer after layer of mountains into the distance. The descent was better than I had feared and although Dick slipped and grazed his hand we had no real troubles. We were back at the spring and our sacks by 6pm. Our first gas canister finally ran out and then disaster struck. The next one refused to fit and leaked all the gas. The second looked like doing the same but with some paper engineering and patience we saved 3/4 and it burnt OK. Phew. Our bivy was warmer than expected and although I struggled to get comfy the stars and full moon made up for waking several times. It had been a long day, for me especially.
We woke to bivies bathed in sunshine.

Today's walk was easier with just one small col and then mostly contouring or down to Stanet e Pejes. It was super hot but we found a mass of raspberries yet again before reaching the water source and then the shepherds in the old army barracks. Our stash of gear seemed rather public here but it was good to leave the weight and to proceed to Arapit unencumbered.

It is a short distance on the map but includes two cols before the path turns to the mountain itself. After 90 mins Dick decided he was knackered and also that his shoes really were on their last legs. He had been to the summit before so sat in the shade.

We climbed over the most wonderful slabs of sloping limestone with amazing karst features. It was hot but stunning.

The final ridge was airy with a huge drop to Thethi and the west.

Runfurther Buffs get everywhere

Not huge at 2217m but a truly beautiful mountain.

Seen from Thethi it has an 800m sheer rock wall.

We made excellent time on the return trip almost running down the huge slabs of rock.

That evening was our last wild bivy.

Shame I missed the sheep mobbing Dick

The shepherd tried to warn us about the sheep and dogs but we didn't really understand. The dogs kept coming to check on us but never got closer than 2m. Disconcerting at 2am but no problem really. The comedy was at about 5.30am when the sheep decided to investigate. I woke and sat up to find four sheep face to face with me and Dick was mobbed by sheep. Bob was laughing so much he failed to take photos of this.
It gave us an early start on the last day which was perhaps good in the cool. A series of concrete bunkers reminded us of the recent wars and then after the lakes and the second col it was downhill all the way to Thethi.

Another roasting day saw us celebrate with coffee and beer once we reached the valley and then a slow amble to Thethi itself with cherries to pick along the way.

The village had seen even more new building than other places but we picked a quite traditional looking guest house. Our room was in the old farmhouse and the restaurant was a tasteful new build.

More beer and a snack of bread etc did for lunch. I then went exploring but the guys decided it was far too hot. I found a huge abandoned cherry orchard, a spot by the icy river to bathe my feet and generally explored the older parts near the church and farms.

Another great evening meal - except perhaps for the traditional corn bread which they hate as a reminder of communism. We were then joined by a party of young guys from Kosovo and their army leader. They were amazed at our route and walk with peaks. I was presented with a Kosovan Army poncho bivy and gave in return my Runfurther Buff and a spork. They were very taken with our light weight gear as their bed rolls were almost the size of my sack.
The next day was travelling to Shkroder and then Tirane before a final touristy day in the city.

It has not yet really developed for tourism but I was impressed at the seemingly happy coexistence of the Muslims and catholics.

Would I go back? Yes. I am glad we got the chance to visit before too much change though  and I would suggest those considering the PoB trail modify it as we did and more. The side trips to peaks were fantastic and I am sure there is more to explore. The people were very warm, friendly and welcoming. I took a couple of hundred photos so selecting some was not an easy task.
Whether or not it will prove enough training for me this weekend at the Long Tour of Bradwell and more importantly at the GRP in a fortnight remains to be seen.

Day 1 Okoli near Thethi to Vallbonne.
Day 2 start of non tarmac road 10km E of Vabonne to Doberdol
Day 3 Doberdol - return trip to Gjeravica 2656m highest in Kosovo
Day 4 Doberdol to Milishevc
Day 5 Milishevc to Reke e Allages
Day 6 Reke e Alleges to Liqenat
Day 7 Liqenat to Katun Bogic (not Babino Polje)
Day 8 Katun Bogic to Veliki Krs2374m, Hridski Krs 2358m and then rejoined PoB to Plav
Day 9 Rest day in Plav
Day 10 Zavrs to Maja e Fazlis 2149m via Vrh Bora 2106m (wild camp)
Day 11 Kollata e Keqe 2534m and Podi e Kollates 2556m and down to Vusanje
Day 12 Vusanje to Zastan and then return trip to Maja Roshit 2525m
Day 13 Zastan to mini glacier above Liqenet e Jezerces, then Maja Jezerca 2694m and back to glacier
Day 14 Glacier to Stanet e Pejes and then Arapit 2217m and back to Stanet e Pejes.
Day 15 Stanet e Peyes to Thethi