CHAPTER XVIII
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.
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