On the morning of our third day on the trail Doug and I were
getting low on food supplies and would need lunches for the days ahead . After
breakfast we took a bus downhill from the Col to Canfranc, a significant ski
resort about 8 kms south on the road to Jaca, Spain’s biggest ski center, to
load up on provisions, enough for six days lunches plus a few extra meals should
we have to camp rather than stay in refuges some nights – chocolate, nuts,
tuna, sardines, preserved Spanish meats, cheese triangles, granola bars, dried
fruit, etc. You go for things that have lots of calories for their weight so
you’re not carrying a lot of water weight with you. We had a big lunch at a
taberna before catching the next bus back up to the Col du Somport and a bit
farther to Astun, the ski resort at the end of the road.

Wewere able to be so leisurely because we knew we had a
relatively short day ahead of us. It turned out to be a cloudy and initially
somewhat ominous-looking afternoon, but the cloud clover made it pleasantly
cool for the 450meter (1,500 foot) ascent to the Col Des Moines on the
French-Spanish border at 2,168 meters (about 7,000 feet). Doug and I decided
the English translation for the place name was “Capital of Iowa Pass”. This was
our first knock-your-socks-off view of the Pic du Midi D’Ossau, the huge
stand-alone rock peak at the southern end of the Ossau Valley that’s the most
prominent feature in this part of the Pyrenees.

From the pass we descended a rather short vertical distance
through a boulder field and then climbed again to alpine Lac Busau before
descending to our accommodation for the
night at Refuge de Ayous, a lakeside mountain refuge run by the CAF (Club
Alpine Francais), the first of our French refuge stays. The place was
surprisingly empty and had spectacular views across the lake and valley to Pic
du Midi d’Ossau, at least before the fog and storms rolled in.

Doug and I hung out and drank beers with a two young Dutch
brothers from Alkmaar. There were only about twelve people at the table for
dinner that night at the refuge – vegetable soup, carafes of red wine, chicken
stew, Moroccan beet salad – our first of several surprisingly good meals in the
mountains. I was always quite impressed with the accommodations at this very
modern refuge – individual bunks with crisp clean linens, lots of windows and
skylights. I thought we’d be roughing it, butthis is as nice as a standard
urban hostel.