The Cares Gorge

[Mac]

"Los despredimientas de rocas son frecuentes en toda la Ruta de
Cares. Caminar por la senda es peligroso tras un periodo de lluvias
intensas"

Well, I'm sure it didn't tell me that before I started. I've arrived
in Caín, at the southern end of the Garganta or Desfiladero de Cares,
after one of the most impressive walks I've ever undertaken. I'd
promised myself this from when I'd first started to read about the
Picos. 12 kilometres long, this spectacular path was carved from the
cliffs, starting in 1945, the year I was born, and it's taken me this
long to find it. It services the mostly subterranean canal running
between Caín and the hydro-electic scheme at Poncebos. The canal was
constructed between 1915-20, and is itself a tremendous feat of
engineering, with a fall over 11km of only 1 in 1000. Two deaths
among the 45 local men constucting the path compare to 11 dead from
the 500 working on the canal.

Unlike the similar Camino del Rey through the Garganta de Chorro in
Andalucía, which I described a few years ago, the path is well-
maintained and in constant use. There are many rock overhangs and
several tunnels, and although easily negotiated, it is a definite no-
no for any vertigo sufferers; I found one or two sections ever so
slightly scary. Within two or three kilometres of Caín, in the
narrowest part, the path crosses and re-crosses on two small bridges,
the river roaring far below.

Tiny Caín is a popular tourist destination, surrounded by high rocky
peaks, so the last two kilometres saw troops of day-trippers venturing
down the the southern end of the gorge, some walking three abreast,
chattering away, seemingly oblivious to the awesome surroundings and
the unprotected vertical drop of several hundred feet.

And I'm doing it again tomorrow, having stayed in Caín overnight, to
get back to the car. Let's hope I get another weather window like
today (brilliant sunshine at last, the rain starting to the minute as
I arrived in Caín).

And so it proved. The morning sun lit the snow patches on the high
peaks, but the narrow gorge was in deep chilly shadow, thunderous with
the noise of the river. With the tourists not yet arrived, I had the
first few kilometres completely to myself. Or so I thought. Rounding
a blind corner, I was stopped in my tracks by two local inhabitants.
I've never seen such enormous horns on goats. However, they are
obviously very used to human interlopers, and moved to one side (the
inside!), calmly staring in their shaggy coats, to let me edge past.

As the gorge opened, so the sun appeared above the cliffs, and grren
lizards darted across the warm path. I think I did this at the right
time of year - it would be uncomfortably hot in summer.

The book and signpost say 3 hours each way between Poncebos and Caín;
this takes account of neither photo-stops (I took far too many) nor
age. It took me four and a half.

Y cada momento una alegría

Mac