J.B bar Cadiar
7 February 2012 Jorairátar - Alcolea
It has been a few weeks since we hit the GR142 trail, first of all the the weather continued to improve, so much so that the snow had gone from the Sulayr trail allowing us to resume doing a bit of that. Then, Kees went absent, well he went off to Houston to visit his daughter and new grandson and, what with Ray doing penance back in the UK, Plym off touring the trouble spots of Asia, Rene in charge of entertaining her granddaughter, it as just been Mike and myself left holding the fort, just a couple of Billies with no mates.
The weather has now turned cooler and the snow has returned to the higher slopes. Kees is back from the states, but his new grandson did not put in an appearance, and Rene is back in circulation so we thought it was a good opportunity to go back to Jorairátar and resume the GR142.
Things did not get off to a good start, Rene had forgotten where she had parked her car and tramped all over Albunúelas looking for it, only to find it outside her front door. Fortunately she remembered to ring and so we waited for her to turn up.
We then drove up to Jorairátar, the last time we were there we thought it looked a poor village with very few cars. Our thoughts were confirmed when we were driving up the road to the village. We discovered what looked like tumbleweed, blowing in the wind, the road was covered, no one had been this way for years. We expected a stage coach to appear around a corner at any moment.
In the village there was no obvious signs of a path to Los Montoros. Up until now I have been able to download the route into my GPS but I can’t find any more published waypoints, from now on we are on our own, destined to wander around the badlands forever. We stopped and asked a local hombre if he knew the route. He looked bewildered, first by the fact we were strangers in his Publeo and second that we wanted to walk to the next village, I don’t think he knew that another village existed.
We eventually found a path leading out of the village going in the right direction and, after joining another path, picked up the route markings again. We followed this path down to the river where all signs of the path and markings disappeared. The last 2 inches on the map showed that the path followed the river, criss- crossing it numerous times for the next 8 km. I don’t know who planned the route but there was no path, we tried both banks and the surrounding fields, forded the river, tried to build bridges, but each time we came to an impass.
Rene won the prize for the most ingenious crossing when she wedged a log in a rock face and scrambled across. For an Aussie used to the outback it was probably nothing. For Kees, a Dutchman, it was a bridge too far.
We decided to turn around, go back to the car, and drive to where the river crossed the road and attack the route in the opposite direction.
Arriving at the a fore mentioned point we found the signs for the path, but that was all there was, signs but no path. We decided to abandon this section of the walk completely and drive to Darrícal and try our luck from there.
The road to Darrícal was closed for Obras, it looked like it had collapsed into the ravine that it runs alongside of. Checking the map showed that the path was on the road for about 5 km, not having any wish to follow a tarmac road all that way we decided to leave that section out as well. Instead we found the path as it continued along its way to Alcolea. This was more like it, proper signs every 100 metres and a clear path to follow in a steep sided, multi coloured, barranco, proper Indian country. We felt like the magnificent seven, except there was only four of us. After an hour black clouds appeared on the horizon and we decided to beat a retreat back to the car and the safety of the J.B bar in Cadiar. I only said we felt like the magnificent seven, I did not say we were.
We have stopped at the bar a number of times whilst walking up in this area and have always had great tapa and a warm welcome from Jo the landlady.
On the walk Mike, Kees, Rene and myself.
Distance on GR142 7.0 km, ascent 544 metres, total distance 14 km.
Total on GR142 69.51km , Total walked 104 km. Total ascent 6115 metres.
It has been a few weeks since we hit the GR142 trail, first of all the the weather continued to improve, so much so that the snow had gone from the Sulayr trail allowing us to resume doing a bit of that. Then, Kees went absent, well he went off to Houston to visit his daughter and new grandson and, what with Ray doing penance back in the UK, Plym off touring the trouble spots of Asia, Rene in charge of entertaining her granddaughter, it as just been Mike and myself left holding the fort, just a couple of Billies with no mates.
The weather has now turned cooler and the snow has returned to the higher slopes. Kees is back from the states, but his new grandson did not put in an appearance, and Rene is back in circulation so we thought it was a good opportunity to go back to Jorairátar and resume the GR142.
Things did not get off to a good start, Rene had forgotten where she had parked her car and tramped all over Albunúelas looking for it, only to find it outside her front door. Fortunately she remembered to ring and so we waited for her to turn up.
We then drove up to Jorairátar, the last time we were there we thought it looked a poor village with very few cars. Our thoughts were confirmed when we were driving up the road to the village. We discovered what looked like tumbleweed, blowing in the wind, the road was covered, no one had been this way for years. We expected a stage coach to appear around a corner at any moment.
In the village there was no obvious signs of a path to Los Montoros. Up until now I have been able to download the route into my GPS but I can’t find any more published waypoints, from now on we are on our own, destined to wander around the badlands forever. We stopped and asked a local hombre if he knew the route. He looked bewildered, first by the fact we were strangers in his Publeo and second that we wanted to walk to the next village, I don’t think he knew that another village existed.
We eventually found a path leading out of the village going in the right direction and, after joining another path, picked up the route markings again. We followed this path down to the river where all signs of the path and markings disappeared. The last 2 inches on the map showed that the path followed the river, criss- crossing it numerous times for the next 8 km. I don’t know who planned the route but there was no path, we tried both banks and the surrounding fields, forded the river, tried to build bridges, but each time we came to an impass.
Rene won the prize for the most ingenious crossing when she wedged a log in a rock face and scrambled across. For an Aussie used to the outback it was probably nothing. For Kees, a Dutchman, it was a bridge too far.
We decided to turn around, go back to the car, and drive to where the river crossed the road and attack the route in the opposite direction.
Arriving at the a fore mentioned point we found the signs for the path, but that was all there was, signs but no path. We decided to abandon this section of the walk completely and drive to Darrícal and try our luck from there.
The road to Darrícal was closed for Obras, it looked like it had collapsed into the ravine that it runs alongside of. Checking the map showed that the path was on the road for about 5 km, not having any wish to follow a tarmac road all that way we decided to leave that section out as well. Instead we found the path as it continued along its way to Alcolea. This was more like it, proper signs every 100 metres and a clear path to follow in a steep sided, multi coloured, barranco, proper Indian country. We felt like the magnificent seven, except there was only four of us. After an hour black clouds appeared on the horizon and we decided to beat a retreat back to the car and the safety of the J.B bar in Cadiar. I only said we felt like the magnificent seven, I did not say we were.
We have stopped at the bar a number of times whilst walking up in this area and have always had great tapa and a warm welcome from Jo the landlady.
On the walk Mike, Kees, Rene and myself.
Distance on GR142 7.0 km, ascent 544 metres, total distance 14 km.
Total on GR142 69.51km , Total walked 104 km. Total ascent 6115 metres.
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