Three weeks of building expectation woke us early today with great excitement; the first day of the 'Great Triad' had arrived, the veritable plat de resistance. Though not great in ascent or distance, it leads into wild technically demanding terrain which would test our skills to their limits, especially if the weather turned against us. Fortunately, that last factor did not currently appear to be a problem; no frost and the sky clear except for a few mares tails.

  Well defined zig-zags led up through a gorge with the river way below. Initially, the valley was calm, our only company a couple of shepherds en-route to check their flocks; then we must trade that calm for interest, as a helicopter approached steeply. Who can avert their eyes from this noisy defiance of gravity? The pilot was it seemed, ferrying workers and equipment in for the week's work on the hydro-electric scheme; we watched him climb steeply, drop his load, then lift and dive down the valley, banking steeply to dissappear around a bend. The cost of electricity was impressed upon us as the rowdy flights continued and a thousand litres of fuel burned.

  It was good to flee the shadows on arrival at the barrage of Lac de Caillauas; we mounted a little to eat breakfast overlooking the lake and dam where the chopper continued to entertain us from our grandstand position. Breakfast done, we set out on a 'trod' which left the thoroughfare; it traversed the steep hillside above the reservoir, with a few nervous moments in crossing remnant ice flows. Then the vegetation thinned out and the route took a kink into a dry ravine on the right; this led by degrees to the opaque azure water of Lac des Isclots where a shoal of tiny fish played in the shallows. The way then became progressively more austere, as we entered interminable boulder fields Voici! and climbed moraine banks; the glacier had roughed a ragged passage in these parts and left some very untidy footprints.

  We were glad that the terrain was dry, and friction good for hopping the boulders; a thin coat of snow would have hampered us, whereas a thick layer of left-over névé in early summer would be very helpful in smoothing it all out. I preferred to stay high in the boulders, hopping from tip to top, whereas Karen considered it more secure to stay low, making use of flats and acute angles to lodge a foot at each step. Heavily loaded backpacks did not help us in either instance, though a secure harness was of great benefit.

  After mounting a 100m tall moraine bank we caught a retrospective of Lac des Isclots Voici! with its wee islet before attention was directed ahead; the scramble up an ill-defined ridge led out onto the Glacier des Gourgs Blancs which gave us some entertainment. Since we were not equipped with crampons, we must pick our way to negotiate glassy ice flows. I chose to pass by the southern flank, mis-trusting the jumbled and jagged rocks in the glacier trough. I explained common glacier features to Karen who was expanding her experience of them by 100% on this occasion. 'A crevasse is a crack or rift in the glacier's surface; a dry glacier is one whose ice is free of fresh snow which would obscure the crevasses. The bergschrund is the gulf formed as the glacier (or snow field) melts back from a rock interface, and a serac is a broken chunk of ice cliff formed when a glacier meets the rim above steeper slopes. Have you got that all dear?'
  'Just tell me how you got past this bit will you?' She was engrossed in the task at hand.
  'Step down from the big boulder to those embedded flakes, then you can step on the ice where its flecked; the gravel heats and melts itself in, to rough the surface'.
  'And then what?'
  'Just stride across to that dark slab and leave it at the top end'
  'I can't stretch that far!'
  'OK, give me your hand then ...'. Fortunately this humble glacier remnant presented few crevasses which were all well apparent so late in the season. Furthermore, there were no tottering seracs above us waiting to tumble unpredictably, and the weather was still in our favour.

  There was no significant bergschrund to trouble the exit Voici! and we crested out onto the Col des Gourgs Blancs (2877m), not a place to rush away from in good weather. A profile of the terrain here would have read like the trace of a heart attack in the otherwise steady ambulations of the HRP; it ranged from the heights of Perdiguero (3222m) to the depths of the embedded Lac Glacé (2660m). A kaleidescope of sunlight and shade revolved slowly on the high rippled glacier of Tuca Sellan de la Baca (3071m), but nothing changed in the inky depths of the 'crater' lake. I felt compelled to go and peer down into this dungeon, and consider what mighty forces had gouged such a thing from its embracing granite.

  Fortunately, we were not obliged to follow the extremes of this terrain, but the route still challenged. It lead to Tusse de Montarqué on the far side of Lac Glacé via the minor peak at its RHS presenting the notable pluviometre; 'How do we get there?' we asked ourselves. A contorted and devious route lay through boulder fields and retreating ice; it would have been precarious in poor visibility (more likely life-threatening), and as it looked rather time-consuming, we figured we'd better make a start toute de suite. It was most re-assuring to find the odd small cairn as we went, even if it consisted of just four stacked pebbles set on a prominent boulder.

  Up by the rusty pluviometre (rather ugly at close quarters) we paused and were astonished to see a lone isard in silhouette on a sister peak; it had apparently traded lush grazing for security of these rocky wastes. Then we scrambled down into the col before topping out on the Tusse (2889m). This route afforded nearly 270° views down into the 'crater' lake whose sombre beckoning was now illumined with reflections of Pico des Gourgs Blancs (3129m). Voici! Ahead, the stage destination was visible, the refuge and Lac Portillon, beyond which a steep valley rose to tomorrow's high point, Col inferieur de Literola. Voici!

  The way off the Tusse was also steep, and it placed Karen and I back in our old roles with me exploring ahead; this seemed more appropriate when the route was obscure, because I could save her some energy after searching out the best route. Not that she always accepted my findings! I watched her now, making what seemed to be tediously slow progress. Using her trekking poles, she reminded me of a beetle feeling every step ahead with its long antennae.

  After some more descent, I decided my duty rather lay in hurrying ahead to find us a good pitch. Information given was that the refuge would be closed, so I didn't approach it, though perplexed that there were quite a few parties about late in the day. Perhaps they were all using the winter quarters? The thought of crowded bunkshelves affirmed my intent and I found us a good pitch just in front of les deux pluviometres. Don't ask me why they needed two, but in this area where hydro-electricity is generated, it is obviously critical to monitor rainfall.

  Karen arrived to deposit her sac, and we set off to reccenoitre the refuge; it was actually open! There was even room for us to stay and had we booked in, dinner would also have been available, but the warden was about to dash off and could only offer a cheese sandwich. Not so tempting, we returned to our tent to lighten tomorrow's load instead. The stage had taken longer than anticipated leaving us weary and with a nip of frost in the air, we were glad to retire early into warm sleeping bags. Karen_comments