Vallee d'Ossoue
by Norman Hodghton
During a tour in the western Pyrenees we spent two nights at Gavarnie. In the morning most of us got away early to walk up to the Cirque. It's a spectacular sight, but I recommend anyone to go early in the morning (we left about 8.30am) otherwise you will be sharing a small area with hundreds of other people. And as cycling is prohibited be prepared for at least an hour's walk each way from the town.
Once back at our hotel I collected the bike and headed off to visit the Vallee d'Ossoue, which winds westwards from Gavarnie. Although the Cirque de Gavarnie is world famous the Vallee d'Ossoue seems to be known to very few people…
Leaving the town on the D923 I quickly turned right onto a steep climb. Most of the traffic had turned left on the road that climbs to the Port de Boucharo, so I had the road almost to myself. For about a mile the narrow road was surfaced, and cut into the mountainside high above the river. As the valley widened the tarmac ended and a rideable track continued on into increasingly wild scenery.
At the start of the track I met another member of the group, and for some time we sat watching the hillside hoping to see marmots. But although their birdlike calls were common the creatures themselves were keeping well out of sight. Finally, having given up hope of seeing the elusive marmots Jan decided that rough-stuff was not for her and turned back, while I rode on up the valley.
The main track ends at a small reservoir 5.5 miles from the town, but I was not sure I would go that far. The valley is a delight. It was early June and there was a great deal of snow on the surrounding mountains. The floor of the valley was wider here and sometimes the river divided leaving small grassy islands, which disappear in flood conditions.
By mid-afternoon a thin layer of cloud was covering the sky and thunder was rumbling in the distance. Should I turn back? The track was becoming rougher and I was forced to walk parts of it, but each time I considered going back the track ahead turned, or climbed over a small hill, and I thought that I must see what was round the comer, or over the next rise. I was not disappointed, as each new view seemed better than the last, until I knew that the reservoir must be very near.
The mountains had now closed in again and the last hill was too rough to ride so I walked up until I found myself on the highest point looking down on the Barrage d'Ossoue. Here the bare mountainsides dropped steeply with snow filled gullies right down to the waterline.
The map indicates tracks continuing beyond the lake, but these lead into seriously high mountain terrain and would need better maps than Michelin produce, (as well as walking boots and no bike!).
The thunder was now much closer and a cold wind had sprung up, so it was time to hurry back. On the return journey I found I could ride all the way, with care. It was on this part of the ride that I witnessed what for me was one of the highlights of the tour. Some yards ahead a marmot ran across the track and disappeared amongst some rocks. A few moments later I heard the familiar marmot warning call followed by a loud screech as an eagle, talons extended, dived down at the rocks. Too late this time it swept up to perch on a high crag where it shuffled and arranged its wings like an old woman with a shawl.
After that the ride back was almost an anti-climax as I retraced my route along the narrow surfaced road and down to Gavarnie.