Bodhi On The Way: An Epic Climb and Wind-Blasted Drama in the Pyrenees: St.-Jean-Pied-du-Port, France to Roncesvalles, Spain (14 to 17 September, 2015)

The Pyrenees. Lesser known than the Alps, wilder and more mysterious in character, this ancient natural border between Spain and France is a major obstacle for pilgrims coming from France. A 1250m climb on the High Route (Napoleon), or a 900m climb on the Low Route (Valcarlos), any way you cut it you have to earn the Pyrenees crossing. We would do the High Route, seeing it as a must-do on this long walk. [Jeff had previously walked the GR11-Pyrenees and already knew firsthand the extraordinary and lonely beauty of these high mountain landscapes, not to be missed!]
For us, having started in Le Puy 740km before and in some of the best shape of our lives, the daunting nature of the task ahead was more a question of eating plenty of food and drinking plenty of water and just getting on with it. In fact we had been thinking about it and anticipating it for several weeks. But one thing was sure, we wouldn't be able to do St. Jean-Roncesvalles in one day as nearly all other pilgrims do: the Chariot, the 1250m climb, the presence and needs of Bodhi, and the 26km distance made this completely impossible for us in one day. So we decided to split it into two days, and pass the night up high either camping in protected forest or spending the night in a mountain refuge. Only one thing: a swift and vicious windstorm would roll in while we were halfway up the mountain and hurl us headlong into a mad adventure bordering on insanity...

The fantastic cobbled streets of the medieval village of St. Jean-Pied-du-Port.

An eagle-eye's view of St. Jean from the Citadelle above the village, set at the foot of the Pyrenees.

St. Jean-Pied-du-Port is the last port-of-call for pilgrims in France. The village straddles the banks of the River Nive.

Playtime in the St. Jean municipal campground. We rested an extra day in St. Jean to allow some cold rainy weather to pass (which in the end only got worse!).

We met a French cycling family here, who were cycling from their home near Lille down to Andalucia, before continuing what will be a one-year travel adventure involving home-schooling and a long visit to Thailand as well.

Their 5-year-old travels on this contraption which is called a Wehoo.

Departing to cycle the Camino de Santiago, before heading south to Portugal and Andalucia. They face an 850m/2800ft. climb as they head for the Col de Valcarlos.

Bo digging into what will be his last real French baguette for many months!

The team: rested up a little, well-provisioned, and ready to slay the Dragon (the 1250m/over 4000ft. climb over the Pyrenees). We checked the weather forecast just before heading out at the tourist information center, and were told the route was open, but with potential wind gusts of up to 70km/hr. Windy, but not a reason not to proceed...

Elevation: 183m. The start of the classic route of the Pyrenees crossing, formerly known as the Route Napoleon. The Romans were the first to put this route through as part of the Via Triana connecting Bordeaux to Astorga. Also used by Charlemagne in his failed campaign in Spain in the 8th century.

An Italian pilgrim tackles the lower slopes of the mountain, in light rain.

Pilgrims preferred this route in medieval times (although it's higher in elevation and more exposed) because of the lack of hiding places for bandits in ambush.

The Chariot outweighs Bodhi, 70kg to 13. (Which makes his efforts to haul it up extremely steep slopes truly extraordinary!)

These folks watch as we struggle past...

... on our relentless pull upwards.

Jeff walks alongside an American pilgrim, Rachel, for a spell.

This image fairly portrays the magnitude of the task at hand.

Statue of Santiago Peregrino (St. James as pilgrim) at Orisson, the last outpost before the high mountain crossing.

This fellow doesn't seem too concerned about anything.

We found shelter for a moment to have a small picnic and give Bo some time to run around outside...

... which he did, amidst stiff winds.

Things wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been for a fierce headwind, hitting us straight on and stifling our progress.

La vierge de Biakorri (Virgin of Orisson), elevation 1100m, who stands watch over the surrounding mountains and valleys. We'd climbed nearly 1000m already, but slanting rain had set in by now, and winds had gotten so strong that Katy was barely able to manage this photo. It would be our last photograph of the day as things would get really crazy. A relentless fell wind would buffet us without remorse, going from headwind to crosswind depending on the curves and orientation of the road as we climb. At one point, the Chariot (with Bodhi inside!) tipped over in an evil crosswind. During our efforts to right it, the wind plucked up Katy's huge backpack and sent it flying down the mountain end-over-end, which Jeff raced after in panic, retrieved, and then heaved and crawled back up the slopes. [We would find out later that winds had reached 130 km/hr!] Now we were in for a real adventure...

With about one hour of light remaining, completely sapped of energy, and little chance of reaching the mountain refuge which we knew was a few kilometers ahead, we headed down to this cluster of buildings to seek refuge.

Unfortunately, all the doors were locked, nobody was here, and we found no access anywhere. Winds were too strong to put up our shelter. At this point Katy discovered the side door of the white van was open, and the three of us climbed in, rearranged a huge assortment of various foods stored there, and changed out of our wet clothes and into warm dry ones. [Note, at this point Katy is freaking out, Jeff is reviewing all survival strategy options, and Bodhi is happy-as-Larry]. Our plan was to sleep in the van for the night in our sleeping bags. But a shepherd drove by around 8 PM, who then phoned another shepherd (who turned out to be the owner of the van and the white house pictured here) who arrived on the mountain at about 9 PM. He then ushered us into the house and provided us warm cozy shelter for the night on mattresses in the loft!

The following morning the shepherd, whose name was Jean-Michel, drove us down to Valcarlos (on the alternative "lower" route) to recover from our insane fatigue and to wait out the windstorm. We left the Chariot stored in the mountain house, and agreed to return by taxi the following morning to resume our high crossing. Here Bo is pictured playing with schoolchildren in Valcarlos.

Striking Basque architecture in Valcarlos at the Ayuntamiento (town hall). Elevation 300m, warm and balmy.

We stayed in the municipal hostel in Valcarlos, where Bo made best friends with Finton, an Irish pilgrim walking the Camino in sections.

The storage lockers make for some mean Peek-a-boo when you're smurf-sized!

Dusk colors in Valcarlos promise improved weather.

Finton and Betsy (Dutch) shared the cost of the taxi with us and were rewarded with a magnificent morning on which to tackle the High Route. The winds have receded and the morning light is precious.

Scenes like these had us congratulating ourselves for having decided to continue the high crossing as originally planned...

Pictured with Jean-Michel, the farmer who had assisted us two days previously. When the wind isn't blowing 130 km/hr. he can usually be found at this place on the mountain selling homemade sheeps' cheese, eggs, milk, bananas and sundry snack- and-energy-foods to passing pilgrims.

Views back towards France as we wrap up the steepest part of the climb.

If you're gonna be a human mule, this is an insanely beautiful place to do it.

Finally, the border with Spain. Entering Navarra.

Confusing trail signs point every which way.

The path enters delightful forest and provides a respite from the wind.

A fallen pilgrim's memorial, a grim reminder of what bad weather and the exertions of mountain travel can bring. On the other hand, one of the most serene and beautiful places that one could spend their last moments on this planet.

Heavy traffic as the path passes through beech forest.

Having contemplated this crossing for weeks now, it has proven to be more spectacular and exhilarating than we had ever imagined.

Hanging out with fellow pilgrims (Irish and American) in the refuge found near the Col de Bentartea (1340m). Had it not been for the headwind and 130km/hr. gusts, we would have made it here to spend the night two days previously.

Nearing 1400m in elevation and STILL climbing!

The harsh weather conditions keep Bodhi "indoors", where he is content to spend the day with his faithful companion Cookie Monster.

The (alternative) descent which begins from Col de Loepoeder (1450m) - the high point of the crossing. The traditional path drops steeply down through forest and is entirely unsuitable for the Chariot!

Our descent winds dreamily down through extensive beech forest.

A misty view down onto Roncesvalles, the first pilgrim stop in Spain and marking the end of the Pyrenees crossing.

The pilgrims' hospital at Roncesvalles. This place sees the passage of hundreds of pilgrims every day during spring, summer and early fall, who sleep in enormous dormitories of 40-50 beds per room.

The convent at Roncesvalles was founded in 1132 A.D. expressly for giving aid and shelter to Camino pilgrims. Roncesvalles is also a popular starting point for many Spanish pilgrims.