Sierra del Cadí - a ridge too far (3)
LAST week found me up at around 2,500 metres on the Sierra Cabirolera ridge path in the Cadí-Moixeró natural park, with darkness closing in.
After failing to find a route off the ridge I was having to retrace my steps which, in theory, would be just over 17km with more than 1,000 metres of descent.
First of all, I had to get back to the point at which I’d climbed up to the ridge – and then contemplate whether I could take on the brutally steep descent in the dark.
The situation was far from ideal, as you might imagine – and I was tired and out of water. On the plus side there was a brilliant full moon and a very clear sky. This illuminated the ridge and made the night-time walking much easier. It did, however, become cold – even though it was early September. The wind picked up and I was very glad of the waterproof jacket with a hood that I’d packed in my rucksack. The shorts I was wearing were less of a bonus. The wind increased the chill and I knew that I had to keep moving to keep warm.
Fortunately, the ridge is very wide in most sections, with only a couple of spots were extreme care has to be taken in the dark. The first of these came quite soon in my return trek, orientation was not easy – and progress was painfully slow for around 1km.
Things did improve and I had half a loaf left with some ham to nibble on to keep my spirits up.
Time ticked on and it was past midnight when I had a very surreal experience in the moonlight. I was passing to the left of one of the rounded summits and, glancing across,
I could see a ghostly image illuminated on the peak. I stood open-mouthed for a short while. As I’m not a believer in the supernatural I was, to say the least, rather disturbed by what I saw. Worried that I might be having a hallucination
caused by fatigue, I decided I had to take a closer look. The ‘figure’ appeared to be levitating as I approached. It was only from a distance of around five metres that I was finally able to see that my ghost was in fact the large trig
point on the summit, which had been painted white and had taken on an ethereal glow in the bright moonlight. Once I’d got my heart rate down to normal, I was able to have a chuckle about this night vision at 2,600m (according to the trig point).
Further along the path, I was aware that I was getting close to my access point to the ridge and was looking out for the sign that would point left, and direct me towards the near vertical descent of the Boixader de Jovell. I had still not decided whether to risk taking this route in the dark, even with the moonlight helping out.
It was perhaps lucky that I didn’t have to make a choice. The next sign I came to informed me that I was around 7km from the village of Cornellana – and that I’d passed and missed the sign I was looking for. Rather than retracing my steps for 2km, the village seemed a much better bet – even though it was the middle of the night and would mean a much longer walk in the morning, according to my map.
Another consideration was that I was now almost back to the tree line. It was past 02.00 and I was feeling exhausted – and the thought of getting some sleep under a well-positioned and low-branched pine was at the forefront of my mind.
I knew that the lower I got the warmer it would become, so was planning on descending further into the trees. The path came to a clearing and this is when I heard a sound that you do not want to hear high up on a mountain in the middle of the night – the ferocious barking of dogs.