Jura E2 / GR5: Some comments

My experience of the GR5, the path taken by the E2 across the Jura mountains, was much influenced by the April weather. Contrary to expectations this was tee shirt sweating hot for the first few days, then snow falling cold for the end of the trip. I was expecting cool (but above freezing) and wet weather. Accommodation was also an issue as April was caught between the winter skiing season and the summer hiking season, when those in the hospitality trade might take a break. Although changing weather was most of the reason for the change from sunshine to snow, altitude played a part. The first half of the trip, which included two days walking along the base of the narrow, steep sided Doubs valley, was generally at lower altitudes than the mountains of the second half, which were above 1000 metres. Apart from the two days beside the River Doubs most of the trip was through mountain forests and high cow pasture. There was more climbing than I expected, maybe because my guidebook neglected to give the total ascents for the sections described.

Waymarking was generally good with red and white stripes, but diversions of the GR5 from the route given in my guidebook and other sources of information were confusing. The Grand Traverse of the Jura or GTJ was the main long distance path being promoted. It had alternative paths for hikers, bikers, horses, snow shoeing and skis. These often also corresponded to the GR5. The final stage of my trip through Switzerland was not marked explicitly as the GR5 or E2, however the route followed yellow diamonds and signs marked to Nyon (or La Cure if you were heading north), with St Cergue as an intermediate point.

Link to start of blog is here

Link to start of Jura is here

Places were often closed in April.

White and Red Stripes mark a GR route. The yellow and blue marked local routes.

Return from Nyon: Day 172

A cold and sombre day, my trip finished and heading home, visiting Geneva briefly on the way.

Due to snow on the high Alps, I will not be able to continue my journey further south on the E2 and GR5 until July. It was time to return home until then. A sombre experience as I had a funeral of a close relative to attend. People of my generation, the "Baby Boomers", are starting to die, their loss creating holes in our lives. My turn will come and I worry how my wife and I will end our days. One or other of us will be left alone in the world, possibly incapacitated with some long term illness, reliant on others. My walking is both a pleasure (most of the time) and a means of keeping fit and able for as long as possible. 

In such a melancholy mood, I walked down to the jetty where ferries cross Lake Geneva from Nyon to where the GR5 continues in France on the other side. Today the boats were not running, maybe due to the weather. A cold wind was blowing. Retracing my steps to the railway station I caught a train into Geneva hoping to see a few tourist sights. As a youth I had been impressed by the giant fountain in the lake by Geneva. It featured in the opening credits of a spy series on television called "The Champions". It starred three people with super-powers, who worked for a UN agency called "Nemesis". I was disappointed it was not in operation today (the fountain that is) maybe too much wind. The floral clock which the "My Switzerland" website spoke of was underwhelming, so I tried to find the "Old town". What I found were narrow streets and tall buildings which were a little claustrophobic. The cold wind made St Peter's Cathedral's interior seem attractive. As it was John Calvin's home church, decoration was restrained, the Roman Catholic artwork was removed in the Reformation. After meditating a while I visited the archaeological excavations beneath the building. Amazingly, archaeologists have unearthed a series of earlier Cathedrals dating back to the 4th Century, and from before that the burial of a chieftain from the time before Christ. Cannot imagine how they managed a dig beneath the existing Cathedral.

St Peters Cathedral.

After a sandwich lunch another train took me to Geneva airport for a flight to Gatwick. A lengthy delay for my bag to appear meant a race to catch my train which involved going down a stationary escalator, that suddenly started moving in the wrong direction! I felt like a cartoon character racing to reach the bottom as the escalator moved upward. Maybe an allegory for trying to beat old age, although in this case I reached the bottom of the steps and the train to London.

Chalet Rose to Nyon: Day 171

Today, after a walk through snow covered forest, I left France and descended through Switzerland to Nyon, on the shores of Lake Geneva.

My tent's flysheet was rigid with encrusted ice this morning. Although only a little more snow had fallen, the temperature had dropped. Putting cold, wet socks on my feet, warm from my sleeping bag, and then inserting them into semi frozen boots was an unpleasant experience. Once on my way I found the snow had hardened overnight, making walking through it slow and tiring compared with hiking through yesterday's light and fluffy snow. After reaching Chalet Rose, a permanently locked wooden building, about a kilometre beyond where I camped, I still had seven more kilometres before I reached the town of Les Rousses. Almost all of those were through snow covered forest. Staying hydrated by drinking water is important on a long distance walk but I find it difficult when the water is really cold, as it was today when ice was forming in my water bottle. A some point the diverted GR5 rejoined the trail I was on, from where I am yet to discover.

Les Rousses was unlike the farming villages I had been walking through in the last week. In addition to being on top of a hill, Les Rousses was the kind of place where people had holiday homes, or rather holiday apartments in the large, modern, "chalet" style buildings. This however meant that there were shops, restaurants and cafes on the high street. Despite it being Sunday morning a chocolaterie / patisserie was open where I was able to sit and enjoy a "long" coffee (which was still very small) and tartlette with strawberries and raspberries. The 19th century Fort of Les Rousses was at the edge of town. Some of it had been converted into an adventure playground. Due to construction works by the fort the GR5 was diverted slightly, but as I was not sure where, I walked by the building being built, quiet on this Sunday morning.

Six more kilometres in woods and by farmland brought me to La Cure. There I had another coffee in a restaurant of which one door opened into France and the other into Switzerland. Must make filling in tax forms difficult!

Once in Switzerland the white and red stripes of the GR5 disappeared, instead paths were marked with yellow signs and diamonds, all paths not just the one on my GPS. I followed the signs directing me to Nyon. An early one indicated it would take about five hours, which meant I should be able to reach it today. First I walked to the small town of St Cergue through more snowy woodland and fields, although the snow was less thick here. A few Sunday walkers were about, one asked why I was not wearing shorts, in jest I assume given they had full winter clothing, so I replied my long trousers were to protect me from ticks (I had seen several signs on my trip warning me of "Les Tiques"). Although there were brief periods of sunshine today, there were also lengthy snow showers before I reached St Cergue. The flakes were small but fell persistently. 

Yellow path sign in snowy field.

I had visited St Cergue before when I was walking the E4, which follows the Chemin des Crêtes long distance path in Switzerland. Although there were some attractive tea rooms I had already eaten a patisserie so bought a burger for lunch. It was cooked in the French way, that is, very little.

From St Cergue it was all downhill. The track, I assume the old road, dropped steeply, repeatedly crossing the modern road which achieved a lower gradient by switching back and fore, snaking down the mountainside. As I walked down Lake Geneva came into view, and beyond it the Alps rising up, with less snow on them than I would have expected given the amount I had experienced on the lower Jura mountains. After leaving St Cergue the snow disappeared and all became green, especially the unfolding leaves on the trees. Reaching lower levels it was a walk through fields on tarmac until, soon after housing began, I arrived at Nyon Hostel and a welcome opportunity to rest my feet. 

First view of Lake Geneva and Alps.

Final section to Nyon across flat land.

33.6 kilometres walked today with a total ascent of 640 metres, and a descent of 1430 metres.

Chaux-Neuve to Chalet Rose: Day 170

Another snowy day climbing up ridges and through forests.

Setting off after breakfast I saw at the edge of the village what appeared to be a large ski jump on the hill opposite. It seemed far too big a structure for such a small place. Beyond that my walk continued along the edge of fields, soggy with melting snow, but soon I was climbing up the first ridge of the day. Fortunately much of the height was gained on a narrow tarmac road, free of traffic. This made walking easier, no uneven ground or rocks to contend with. Initially the black tarmac resisted the snow which had accumulated on surrounding trees and grass. Its accumulated heat melted the now falling, fat flakes to give a shiny, wet surface. However above 1250 metres it gave up the struggle and allowed the snow to settle as elsewhere.

Road resists falling snow, the melted flakes give a mirror-like appearance.

Higher up it was colder and the road gets covered.

Leaving the road, my way was along snow coated tracks, unsullied by human prints but used as a thoroughfare by animals. For a while I followed the prints of a hare hopping along. Hooves of deer crossed the track. The only live animal I saw was a tiny, brown mouse who scurried across my path into a cosy hole in the mossy bank that edged the road. Eventually I left the fairy tale, frosted forest (being reminded of Narnia) and crossed fields to the village of Chapelle-des-Bois. The shop closed at 12:30 just as I entered, but the kind lady served me a warm quiche and cold Coke which I enjoyed on a bench protected from the snow in a wooden shelter by the church.

Villages in the area tend to be in valleys which meant after my lunch I had a new ridge ahead of me to overcome. Possibly "massif" was the correct name as there was a steep slope facing me, topped by cliffs, beyond which the land stayed high. The rough path up, climbing over rocks, ran diagonally up the slope, first one way and then the other, the gradient being too great to be tackled straight on. I was pleased I was not the first today on this climb, fresh footprints picked out the path for me to follow which would otherwise be difficult to find on the snow coated, tree covered mountainside. At the top two ladies in mirror shades were smartly dressed in "designer" outdoor gear. Sometimes ahead, sometimes behind them a man took pictures of them with a chunky camera. I had the impression a walk to a viewpoint was not their only objective today. However the clifftop viewpoint was worth the climb. Snowfall had ceased for a while and visibility was reasonable, giving good views down to the village I had recently left, the surrounding fields and beyond them the forested hills. 

Looking down on the village of Chapelle-des-Bois.

Looking west from the viewpoint.

Continuing along the ridge among the conifers I again started to follow the French - Swiss border. In addition to an old boundary stone there was a plate metal memorial to Jews who escaped across the border to Switzerland, to avoid capture and death at the hands of the Nazis.

I reached a junction where once again the red and white waymarks indicating the GR5 went one way, and my guidebook, OutdoorActive App and GPS indicated another. I stuck with the route I had information on, afraid of losing the red and white waymarks as I had on a previous diversion, and not knowing where and how far the waymarked route went.

My GPS route, which appeared to be marked in places with white and yellow waymarks, led me to a second viewpoint, but falling snow obscured anything beyond the cliff edge. I continued through the forest until after 5:00 pm, when I began to look for a place to wild camp. Earlier there had been signs indicating this was an area protected for nature and camping, dogs, hunting, fires etc. was not allowed with a penalty of up to 750 Euro. Although I had seen no such warnings for a kilometre or so, recently a police SUV had driven slowly by, marked "Police Environment" it made me a little worried about camping. However, having little choice I turned up an abandoned, overgrown track, and once out of sight of the main track, stamped out a platform in the snow on which to pitch my tent. I am hoping for more snow to cover my footprints.

25.8 kilometres walked today with a total ascent of 840 metres.

Jougne to Chaux-Neuve: Day 169 and 170

A snowy climb among ski paraphernalia to a cliff overlooking views to the south, followed by a long descent to the source of the River Doubs.

A walk through snowy forest.

I decided to take a rest day at Jougne yesterday, and apart from a walk into Les Hôpitaux-Neuf to pick up a coffee and lunch I pretty much just rested, lying on my bed reading my kindle. This improved my knee which will now bend almost fully, but my neck suffered. Difficulty moving my head from side to side or up and down has been an issue for months and was particularly bad this morning. I dread the thought of being an old man going around with their head bent in a fixed position all the time. However after exercising it I was able to return a degree of movement. 

This morning, after refusing further offers of food after a substantial breakfast, I left the hotel, returned to Les Hôpitaux-Neuf and rejoined the GR5. A long ascent ensued up to the summit of Le Morond. Although there was now little snow in the valley it became progressively thicker as I climbed through trees and then by ski lifts and up ski runs. On the higher ground the snow had frozen, and gave a pleasing crunch as I stepped on it. Fortunately there were footprints in the snow to follow, people had been up the mountain yesterday. Without them "breaking trail" the ascent would have been much more tiring, and finding where the path went under the snow, more difficult. Although the lifts had closed for the season I could see from straight, parallel tracks in the snow that a few people had brought their skis up to glide downhill while it was still possible

Le Morond was the first summit, after I conquered it, my route was down a slope to a lake before a climb up towards the higher peak of Mont d'Or. As I was now at over 1400 metres, the snow was several inches deep and hard work to walk through, even following the footsteps of earlier travellers it was tiring. To my left there was a cliff. On a clear day the distant scenery of forested hills was probably impressive, my guidebook promised a view of the Alps, but today visibility was poor due to low cloud and snow showers. 

Promised view of Alps from cliff top was not visible due to the weather.

I did not climb to the summit of Mont d'Or, the GR5 veered off to the right. There were several people about, including a family on their cross country skis. I followed footprints along the snow covered ridge, through fields bordered by fir trees, the grass hidden. It was as if the curves of the ground had been coated with icing sugar. In my mind Good King Wenceslas was asking his page about a lonely walker.

The footprints ended at a restaurant called La Boissaude, where several cars were parked. These wide roofed buildings seemed to be called "chalets", with many rooms in the roof space. Farmhouses in the area have similar wide roofs and have accommodation for animals and people in the same building. Still full of undigested breakfast I decided against lunch at the place. After La Boissaude, only my footprints broke the pristine, smooth snow cover until I reached remote roads and forest tracks that ultimately led me to the source of the Doubs. The River Doubs emerges from a cave as a fully formed river. I have seen the phenomena before in similar limestone country such as in Serbia. It is always impressive. 

Farmhouse in Haut-Doubs with a typical, wide roof and accommodation for animals and people. 

River Doubs emerging from a cave.

Now below the snow line I had planned to stay at the campsite by the Doubs source at the village of Mouthe but the unmanned campsite required booking on the internet. The adjacent restaurant was closed until May, the area looked dead and heavy rain was forecast. It was only 3:30 pm so I booked a Bed & Breakfast in the next village and continued on my way. What I omitted to confirm was the check in times. It seemed I needed to arrive by 6:00 pm which could have been a struggle. Fortunately the path was along the valley floor with no mountains to climb and I made good progress. The owner was hovering around the front door when I arrived, no doubt wanting to check me in before departing to make his tea.

After a telephone conversation with my wife, a shower and eating all the little chocolates left by the tea and coffee making facilities, I walked to the nearby restaurant for dinner. One of those more expensive eateries where the food looks pretty and the duck breast is served rare, but a warm and pleasant place nevertheless with friendly, smiley staff.

31.3 kilometres walked today including 920 metres total ascent.

La Cluse-et-Mijoux to Jougne: Day 168

A day in which snow coated everything.

On reviewing the outside world from my bedroom window I discovered my surroundings white with snow that had fallen overnight. Only the wet, black road surface was visible, kept clear by the many passing cars. At breakfast I had a chat with a business person on the neighbouring table. Their company was extracting carbon dioxide from industry, from flue gas for example, and were in the area to persuade a factory to use it you neutralise their alkaline wastewater. Good for capturing carbon dioxide in the fight against climate change.

As my check in time this afternoon at my hotel at Jougne was after 5:00 pm, and I had "only" 20 kilometres to walk, I decided there was enough time this morning to join a tour of Castle Joux. The first tour departed at 10 am. It was in French. Fortunately they had a leaflet in English and the guide (who had interesting make up, with orange dots beneath her eyes) gave me occasional asides in English. I tried hard to follow the French but because it would take me a little while to work out what things like "dix huit quatre vingt cinq" meant in English, I would miss the rest of the sentence. The falling snow flakes gathered in people's hair as they listened to the history of the building. First documented in 1034, it had been added to many times since, including by the famous military architect Vauban in the 17th century. I did catch that the only damage inflicted by the large guns installed after the Franco Prussian war of 1870 was to kill a cow. Used as a prison in more recent centuries, one of the people imprisoned there was a former slave who tried to establish an independent state in what is now Haiti. An older story was about a lady, Berthe de Joux, whose husband went to fight in the crusades. After being told he was dead she became friendly with another man. However her husband was not dead and returned. On discovering the liaison he killed the man and locked up Berthe in a cell. She was only freed on his death. The final part of the tour was down a long spiral staircase into tunnels through the rock. These led to an underground well, but the water level was a further 100 metres down. A consequence, I assumed, of the porous limestone allowing ground water to drain away to the base of the hill on which the castle stood.

Looking down the long spiral staircase.

The tour took longer than I anticipated so I hurried to continue my trek. I was surprised to see the GR5 was signed beside the castle, whereas my guidebook had it heading in the opposite direction. Returning to where I left the route yesterday I found red and white waymarks continuing in two directions. I followed those consistent with my guidebook and GPS data. Later signs implied this was actually the GR145. Had the GR5 been rerouted? The GR145 is part of the Via Francigena, a popular route from Canterbury to Rome.

Whatever the current route of the GR5 I followed the path I had information on. My first target was the village of Les Fourgs. Snow covered the countryside but it was only four inches or so deep, and this morning there were often footprints to follow. Paw prints of obedient dogs formed a line parallel to some of the marks left by their owners boots. The path was through forestry and a few fields. Tree branches bent down heavy with snow, which they periodically shed, particularly on me if I brushed them.

Walking through the forest.

I had hoped for at least a coffee in Les Fourgs but was disappointed, the few possible outlets were closed, either for lunch or for ever. Seating down on a cold bench I had pushed the snow off, I had to settle for cold water and a cereal bar from my supplies.

The next stretch was more difficult. After a steep climb up to a chapel, the snow hiding any path, followed by a length of track, the route was across pristine white fields. There were no further footprints, and no trace of where the path went under the unblemished snow. Adding to the difficulty, snow began falling heavily. Visibility was reduced. The depth of the snow had increased both due to the new falls and because I was higher up. An unexpected roll of thunder disturbed the sound of settling snow. At least there were no snow drifts which I had once encountered when hiking in Serbia. Using the track on my GPS, supplemented at times by the route in my OutdoorActive App I made slow progress. A section of forest helped as the track was clearer, marked by trees each side, but more blank white fields followed. 

Looking down on Les Fourgs, the dark clouds in the distance about to bring a new snowfall.

An easy section of track.

My footprints across a field, here a semblance of track just visible in the snow.

Eventually I reached a clear track and progressed onto roads. After a diversion into forestry around Les Hôpitaux-Vieux I approached Les Hôpitaux-Neufs, my nominal destination for the day. However I had booked a hotel in the nearby village of Jougnes, and seeing a sign for it I diverted there.

Welcome sight of my hotel through falling snow, just to the left of the church.

I am now ensconced in my hotel. The landlady fussed around making me a cup of coffee and finding me "bedroom slippers" (I belatedly spotted signs about not wearing dirty footwear inside). Sadly I left a lot of water on the floor from melting snow attached to me for which I apologised. Due to illness diner was not served at the hotel so I went to the nearest place open, which was a Chinese. Finally, I ended the day at a bar with an immense choice of beers. I settled for a blonde (beer).

21.6 kilometres walked today to reach Jougne with 660 metres ascent.

Les Seignes to La Cluse-et-Mijoux: Day 167

A snowy beginning to a day which ended at a fort and a castle.

Although I had to add a layer of clothing in the night, on waking this morning I was snuggly warm in my sleeping bag. Therefore I was surprised to find my tent had a covering of snow (I had expected the forecasted rain). Brushing my teeth in the cold was a bit of a shock, however once I added layers of clothes I was quite happy, indeed more than happy seeing the beautiful, snowy scenes in the woods around me. My gloves, which I had thought an unnecessary weight in my rucksack a few days ago, now proved essential to keep my hands a comfortable temperature as I walked through snow flurries on forest paths. A number of clothing adjustments were needed due to the changing temperatures and to stop falling snow sliding down my neck.

My pleasure on seeing the white edged fir trees, and snowy fields continued through the village of Les Allies. Renamed in the First World War, its name had previously been Les Allemands, which implied an allegiance with the enemy. Now the snow lifted it from a dull greyness.

Track through snowy forest.

Period of sunshine. 

A kilometre or so beyond the village I reached a finger post which indicated that the GR5 went in a different direction to that indicated by my digital map, gpx track and guidebook. I decided to follow the red and white GR waymarks despite not knowing where they went. They began by crossing a steep sided ridge into Switzerland. From there the waymarks led up a farm track across a sloping field, unfortunately a herd of cows was intent on coming the other way. I walked slowly forward keeping to one side of the track and the cows formed a disorderly single file on the other, in this way we passed, eyeing each other suspiciously. 

Encounter with cows.

After returning to the forest, at some point I lost the waymarks. Possibly when I was thinking about the certificate I would apply for should I eventually reach Nice, and complete the E2. I had also assumed it would follow a valley parallel to the ridge I had crossed whereas I later discovered it headed further south to higher ground. Having lost the official route, I planned a way of returning to the old version of the GR5 using my digital maps, in particular one on my OutdoorActive App. I joined it at a group of near vertical rocks called "Les Dames des Entreportes". Continuing on I eventually rejoined the red and white waymarks of the GR5 near the top of a hill.

By now the snow had largely dissipated except on the higher hilltops. The ground had never frozen, there was no ice on the puddles, there was even periods of sunshine although a cold wind made wrapping up necessary. Approaching my destination for the day I encountered Fort Mahler, a 19th century construction. Entry was not permitted, some of the stone walls seemed to be collapsing, however there was an excellent view of Joux Castle on a lower hilltop below.

Joux Castle viewed from Fort Mahler.

Dropping down into the valley I stopped for a coffee and blueberry tartlette at a bakery, before climbing up to Castle Joux. Entry was as part of a tour only at this time of year, and as there were no tours for another hour I decided to check into my Auberge. Here I have a view of the Castle from my bedroom window. 

For diner I had a combination of potatoes, saucisson and eggs, a dish the owner's grandmother used to make. Should have gone for a burger...

20.8 kilometres walked today excluding my visit to castle, 520 metres total ascent.

Villers-le-Lac to Les Seignes : Day 166

A change in landscape and weather today.

After a few warm, sunny days the temperature has dropped. It is windy, clouds have appeared and conditions are more typical of April. Fortunately only a few spots of the forecast rain fell and there were patches of sun. As for landscape, having followed the River Doub for two days, the GR5 now climbed into the mountains of the Haut Doubs. I walked through conifers and cow pastures at heights of over 1000 metres.

The Swiss border had turned south a little before Villers-le-Lac. Leaving the town after a visit to the supermarket this morning, a lengthy climb ensued to regain the border on a high ridge. Border stones, at irregular intervals marked my route for a few kilometres. These were numbered and on the top was a line carved into the stone and highlighted in red which marked the exact position of the border and in which direction it continued. As the path was rocky in places I was careful in placing my feet in order to protect my left knee from any lateral or turning movements. In addition I was wearing my knee support in the hope it would reduce the swelling that prevented my knee bending fully.

Trees generally obscured the view but in a gap I could see to the north more urban areas than I expected in the vicinity of Villers-le-Lac. The GR5 itself runs through remote areas but one can never be sure quite how close large settlements are. Modernity also intruded in the shape of a large metal tower, possibly for television transmissions?

View over Villers-le-Lac.

Leaving the border for a while, the route followed roads with a deviation to a large, concrete cross. Trees had been managed so that the  cross could be seen from the north, which also meant I could see the countryside. Here there were fewer buildings other than a village directly below and more gentle tree covered ridges, green fields and meadows. Some of the trees lining the path in recent days have been really tall and I have been passing the harvested trunks. Far too long for telegraph poles, I wondered if these long sections had a special use.

Later view from cross with fewer houses.

There were many yellow flowers such as Marsh Marigolds in ditches and these flowers on drier ground which looked like a cross between primroses and cowslips.

There was much climbing with a total ascent of 1300 metres today, but some of it was on roads which was easier on my knee. One such road climb led to the Col de Châteleu, where there was an Auberge (closed until May). I had planned to stay by Les Seignes. There was an area for tents with a cabin and a basic toilet, but it was early and the location was exposed to the wind which was forecast to increase. Consequently I continued. A Gîte d'Etape was signposted but somehow I missed it and just kept going. 

The GR5 returned to the border, crossing briefly into Switzerland. On returning to France in a wooded area I picked a flattish spot to pitch my tent, clearing away fallen branches. While the trees are protecting me from the wind I am hoping no large branches fall off onto my tent.

27.9 kilometres walked today with a 1200 metre ascent.

La Rasse to Villers-Le-Lac: Day 165

A walk through and above the Doubs gorge today, with an impressive waterfall.

Leaving my camping spot at 7:00 am to an orchestra of birdsong, I continued close to the river, steep wooded slopes and cliffs, rising beside me. Moss, flourishing in the damp air at the valley base, covered trees and older rocks beside the path.  Newer rocks, not yet colonised, must have recently fallen down the overgrown scree beside me. Periodically, the rocky path encountered fisherman's cabins. Although not occupied there were fishermen about, I encountered a few on the path with their rods. Last night, in the dusk after I had made camp a couple had been heading downriver in their boats, although it was more of a lake than a river due to the hydroelectric dam downstream. 

Above the lake the river resumed its frothy, tumble over rocks. There was a hydroelectric power station on the Swiss side but no dam, I assume its head of water came from a tributary that once entered here. The valley was so narrow, and the land each side so much higher, that a funicular had been built to service the plant. 

Moss covered trees and rocks beside path.

The power station was opposite a wooden shelter the "Abri du Torret". Beyond it the riverside path was subject to rock falls, so the GR5 headed steeply up the valley side on a switch back path among conifers and beside sections of cliff. I was glad to reach the top when a road and then a forest track took me gradually back down towards the Châtelot Barrage or dam. There was a good view of the barrage and the adjacent limestone cliffs from the car park. To reach the barrage itself there were several flights of shallow steps which allowed me to loose height relatively painlessly. A number of runners passed in the opposite direction. 

Doubs Valley by the Châtelot Barrage.

Beyond the barrage lay another artificial lake. I followed the lake as the valley curved around to reach a striking point where rocky headlands on each side of the valley approached each other, markedly reducing the lake's width. I wondered if there had been a waterfall here before the barrage filled the bottom of the valley with water. I had to walk to the end of the lake to see the waterfall at Sant du Doubs, although my main interest was the kiosk which sold me a Coke and Magnum Ice Cream. Suitably refreshed I returned to view the impressive waterfall with crowds of day trippers. From the kiosk and restaurant by Sant du Doubs the path climbed up to a road, from which I could look down on the lake that filled the incised meandered above the waterfall. A few pleasure boats were giving tourists a tour of the valley from the level of the water. I imagined that the Jura mountains rose up as the Alps to the south were formed, and the original River Doubs, with its wide meanders, cut down into the rock as it rose, keeping pace with the buckling of the earth's surface.

Sant du Doubs Waterfall, note the people for scale.

Incised meander of Doubs.

The remainder of today's walk followed an easy road walk to Villers-Le-Lac, which I appreciated as my left knee was struggling to bend, having had enough of rocky paths and climbing up and down the valley side. I had put on my knee support while drinking my Coke, but thought it unlikely to completely resolve the problem. 

I am now settled in the Hotel de France. As its restaurant is closed Sunday nights I had dinner in a Kebab place followed by a lovely, blonde bière in a bar.

24.4 kilometres walked today based on my GPS, although some of the readings were erratic due to the narrowness of the valley making it difficult for the GPS to read the satellite readings correctly, I deleted the erratic points. Total ascent was 910 metres.

Goumois to La Rasse: Day 164

A contrast to previous days, today my trip was down the narrow valley of the River Doubs. 

I walked from my campsite into the centre of Goumois for a coffee and croissant at the shop. The helpful owner also made a ham and cheese sandwich for my lunch which I supplemented with an apple and chocolate. He used the local Comté cheese which added flavour. A more basic lunch than my dinner last night.

Being a sunny Saturday, there were many walkers out for the day. I played tag with one family, I would overtake them when they stopped for a photo, and they would pass me when I removed an item of clothing as the day warmed up. There was a circuit which people seemed to be walking, going down the French side of the river, crossing a bridge, then returning on the Swiss side. A healthy distance as bridges were widely spaced. All the restaurants seemed to be on the Swiss side which seemed more developed than the French riverside.

River Doubs with some morning mist.

Path beside the river.

I stopped by the little chapel of Bief d'Etoz, admiring the coloured patterns on the pews, made by the sunlight shining through the stained glass windows, and praying for people both alive and departed. Continuing along the valley the path passed the meagre ruins of an old glass works. 

Climbing uphill the trail led me to a shelter in the remains of La Charbonnière, an old farmhouse. I lunched on a bench. Although open on three sides a roof kept the sun off me while I enjoyed my sandwich. The day was particularly hot considering it was April. A man on a "scrambler" bike rode by, the noise cutting through the birdsong.

I then took a higher level alternative of the path to visit "Les Échelles de la Mort" (the scales of death). To descend these cliffs a series of ladders are attached to the rock, easy to use with attached handrails. More interesting were the people on the "via ferrata", climbing up wires and around scary cliff heights. Fortunately, they all seemed to have lanyards to clip onto the safety wires, which would save you if you fell. Not sure what you do if you are just too scared to continue, the route seemed "one way". As I descended the ladders I was aware that my left knee did not want to bend much. A problem I have had before, I understand it is due to fluid filling a cavity behind my knee, called a "Baker's Cyst". Probably it was caused by a combination of my arthritis and climbing up and down mountains and along rocky paths yesterday and today. While it will go down if I rest for a few days, that is a bit awkward on a long distance walk. I put on a knee support to help control it.

People on the Via Ferrata of Les Échelles de la Mort.

Ladders I used to climb down.

There were a series of barrages or dams today, built to extract hydroelectric power from the Doubs. The dams created artificial lakes behind them which has rather changed the character of the valley base. In addition there were warnings that due to the hydroelectric plants, the water level could rise suddenly. This could an issue as I will be wild camping tonight in the absence of any other accommodation. The guidebook referred to a hotel at La Rasse, but this appears to have closed some time ago.

I walked beyond La Rasse in a particularly secluded part of the valley, away from roads and buildings. Its steep sides meant places to to pitch my tent were limited. With the warnings of a sudden rises in water level I was pleased to find a flat spot above any likely water level at the site of another old glassworks "La Verrerie de la Guêpe". In addition to a picnic table there was a spring, very welcome as in the hot weather I was running through my water supply very quickly. The porous, limestone geology means that surface water sources can be hard to find. There was also a locked wooden building, a lot of empty wine bottles, the remains of a few fires, a couple of bird feeders and a mouse that ran off. Despite these signs of visitors I am hoping no-one will disturb me tonight, not even a mouse.

Artificial lake in Doubs Valley beside where I camped.

23.5 kilometres walked today with a total ascent of 670 metres.

St Hippolyte to Goumois: Day 163

More uphill today as I walked from the River Doubs up over mountains before returning to the river higher up its course.

A light mist filled the valley when I woke this morning, there was a damp cold in the air, my tent was wet with condensation. The sun had yet to reach the valley floor although it had turned the cliffs at the top of the mountain opposite a shade of orange. Donning my warm jacket I walked to the centre of town to pick up coffee and pastries at the boulangérie, which I ate in the town square. Apart from a few children on their way to school the town was quiet. 

After returning to pack up my tent I continued on the GR5. Rather than follow the valley floor, the path climbed up its side before dropping back down again to a collection of strung out houses. Crossing the river the longer climbs of the day began. The valley sides were steep, tall, and frustrating to climb. I kept thinking the top of the ridge was just ahead of me, only to find when I reached it that there was a higher skyline beyond. Then, when I finally crested the top and descended into a valley,  there was another ridge waiting for me to climb over. My total ascent today was a healthy 1000 metres. After the morning mist cleared there were blue skies and sunlight. The temperature rose rapidly and with all the climbing my sweat shirt soon became wet with sweat. Changing into a tee shirt brought a bit of relief (swapping clothes during the day is one advantage of carrying all your clothes on your back, although today I was wishing my rucksack was a little lighter).

Much of my day was spent walking in woodland, deciduous and coniferous, the trees providing welcome shade, but there were also fields of grass, more yellow than green at times with all the dandelions. Although quiet minor roads formed much of the trail, there were also forest tracks and paths. Flowers brightened the wayside; pink campion, cowslips and many others in yellow, white and purple.

Dandelion filled field.

The main village I visited today, Courtefontaine, had a traditional lavoir with the usual signs, advising that the water was not for drinking. However there were also "tap" signs suggesting a nearby source of potable water. I was in need of water as I had not anticipated such a hot day with so many uphills. Following the signs led me in the wrong direction but a guy driving a tractor pointed out the tap in a lean-to beside the Mairie. Sadly the tap was seized, I was unable to turn it on. The other disappointment was that the bar/restaurant cited in my guidebook had closed long ago. Faded signs showed where it once refreshed the passing traveller.

Signs had informed me that I was in the "Le Pays Horloger", land of the watchmakers. It seems the tradition of Swiss watchmaking had spilled over the border here. One of the signs was by a small chapel that was having its roof repaired. It marked the start of a long descent into Goumois. The village lies at the bottom of the valley where a bridge crosses the Doubs into Switzerland. I had sight of it from a viewpoint located on the top of an old pill box. The GR5 conveniently led directly to the simple campsite, where I pitched, let the tent dry out, phoned my wife and showered. Somewhat disappointed that my sweatshirt now has white salt marks from the drying sweat.

This evening I am again at an expensive restaurant, there being limited alternatives. Starters was a salad with saussicon, for the main I had fried and battered carp which seems a regional dish, a fish not served in Britain, and for dessert an unusual take on tarte tatin (not an improvement in my opinion), all supplemented by a glass of the local white wine. I will not be eating so well tomorrow as I expect to be wild camping, lacking any alternative accommodation. 

Path approaching Goumois.

Looking down on Goumois

24.9 kilometres today with a 1010 metre total ascent.

Dasle to St Hippolyte: Day 162

A big change from yesterday, lots of walking uphill as I reached, then followed, the Swiss border.

Returning to Dasle from my Château in Beaucourt I popped into a boulangérie to pick up some breakfast, but no plain croissants! I had to make do with one filled with blueberry jam and a pain au raisin rather spoilt by an icing topping. Why do they make things so sweet! Then it was a brief walk over fields to the next village of Vandoncourt. Like many villages in the area it had a lavoir, a stone trough and water supply once used for washing clothes. I climbed out of Vandoncourt through woodland to reach the Pont Sarrazin, a limestone natural bridge in a narrow valley. Apparently a lady was kidnapped by a Saracen and to escape jumped off her horse into a gorge. A bridge miraculously appeared to save her from certain death. The Saracen tried to follow but the horse fell off the bridge and he died.

Le Pont Sarrazin.

My next village on the GR5 was Abbévillers, where I diverted to another boulangérie for a coffee and a "jambon fumé" roll for lunch. The kindly shop keeper also offered to fill up my water bottle, which was much appreciated as the weather was hotter than I expected. I had consulted various forecasts and monthly averages before my trip which had convinced me to bring winter gear, but today a sun hat would have helped and tomorrow is set to be warmer. Fortunately I added a tee shirt to my packing at the last moment.

More woodland followed with a number of climbs. The route led me to the French Swiss border which the GR5 ran along for several kilometres. About every hundred metres there was a square border stone. On one side an "F" was carved in the stone, and on the other, either the cross of the Swiss flag, or on older stones, a bear on a shield representing the Canton of Bern.

Swiss side of border stone.

I lunched in a dandelion covered field before walking down into the next village of Villars-lès-Blamont. In its centre there were a number of wooden figures doing various things: reading a book, showing a painting and removing one's head. Climbing into the woods beyond I reached the Fort Lomont Battery. Located on the top of limestone cliffs, an excellent position for defence, it was hard to see the remains due to all the trees, although some deep ditches cut into the rock were locally visible.

Wooden painter and dog.

I had been thinking of trees over the day. The beech saplings in the understorey beside the path had new, delicate, drooping leaves in a bright green. Over summer they will thicken and darken nourishing the young tree before turning brown and dropping at the end of the year. Lower down scattered over the earth beside the path, seedlings were bursting out of last year's nuts, so many, few, if any, will survive.

At the entrance of Chamesol there was an old customs hut, another sign I was close to the Swiss border. Now superfluous it was available to walkers who wished to rest or maybe shelter from the rain.

Looking down on St Hippolyte.

My approach to St Hippolyte, my destination for tonight, was downhill through deciduous woodland, losing much of the height I had gained in the day. A long descent resulted in complaints from my left knee and I was glad of a rest at a small chapel. Light shining through the stained glass windows gave a play of colours on the walls.

Tonight I am camping. Not many people were about this early in the season so I had plenty of choice on where to camp. Although the village had a number of restaurants, most seemed to be closed. Not fancying a take away kebab I have ended up at an expensive place. The soup had unrecognisable fungi floating in it, but tasted fine. I settled for trout with almonds for the main course which was not too costly and I could not resist the lemon meringue tart for dessert. Outside the window beside my table the River Doubs is flowing under a bridge. I shall be following the valley of this river for the next few days, some of it remote from settlements.

27.9 kilometres with 950 metres total ascent.

Belfort-Montbéliard TGV station to Dasle: Day 161

A day of three parts: a walk to Châtenois-les-Forges to rejoin the E2; a stroll by water, lakes and canals; and then an undulating trip through deciduous woodland. 

Leaving the industrial looking area around the TGV railway station I first followed a cycle path around the edge of a village, by a pond where I disturbed a heron. To the north, fragments of the Vosges mountains that I crossed last time could be seen at times. When the cycle path headed off north I was forced to walk along the edge of the road across two roundabouts to reach a hospital where a cycle path beside the road provided a more pleasant way to reach Châtenois-les-Forges.

When I passed through the town on my last trip I visited a boulongerie which also served coffee at pleasant window seats. My memory of where it was located proved remarkably accurate. As it was elevenses time when I reached the establishment I settled down to a coffee créme and a tarte aux framboise. The latter was exceptional. As I bit into the fresh raspberries, after gentle resistance they burst open, full of flavour. The sweet, creamy filling softly parted before the crisp, pastry base gave way after a brief delay (dropping a few crumbs on the floor).

Suitably refreshed and carrying a spiced chicken filled half baguette for lunch, I joined the GR5, its waymarks occasionally paired with those for the E2. There were also a few "Chemin de St Jacques de Compostelle" and E5 waymarks as these long distance routes crossed mine.

My path threaded its way through a collection of lakes, bordered by trees. Old gravel pits beside the river I assumed, but now used for fishing, wildlife and on one lake, activities such as bathing, canoeing and stand up paddleboards. Leaving the lakes I followed a path beside the Canal de la Haute-Saône. Trees in fresh green leaf lined the still waters and birdsong accompanied my walk. Bunches of mistletoe were visible on trees yet to be fully dressed in leaf. Crossing an aqueduct over a river I joined the Canal du Rhône au Rhin, or at least a silted up section of it. Willow branches swept down to greet me, partially hiding an adjacent area of light industry. 

One of the lakes beneath grey skies (but fortunately little rain).

Bridge over the Canal de la Haute-Saône.

After my baguette beside a church and a stone lion's head spouting water from its mouth, I started on the woodland. Young beech and birch trees among others lined the paths that traversed the low hills. A few grey haired men were undertaking forestry work with old tractors, creating piles of logs.

Walk in the woods.

From the hill above the village of Dasle, beyond the green and yellow fields of grass and rapeseed, I could see the wooded hills of the Jura mountains rising in the distance, hills I would soon be climbing over. Reaching the village I turned off the GR5 to find my lodging for the night in nearby Beaucourt. I had reserved a room in a château guarded by private property signs. There was no answer at the only bell I could find, nor from the telephone number in the booking confirmation. Next to a "closed" sign there were two telephone numbers. The second finally led to a response and I am now in a high ceilinged room in modern, inoffensive grey tones. Having a shower I was a little disturbed by the lack of a curtain in the bathroom, afraid my naked body might to visible through the tall windows. Maybe a French thing I thought. Only later did I discover a bank of switches to lower concealed blinds.

Château Japy where I am staying is linked to a major industrial conglomerate which peaked in the 19th century. The founder brought modern industrial techniques to watch making before his sons expanded into typewriters, welding machines etc.. Their factory and residence was here in Beaucourt. Andre Japy, one of the descendants was a famous aviator in the 1930's establishing many long distance records. Sadly, the village's glory years have now passed, but at least one large building with shattered glass windows is being renovated and repurposed for the modern world.

22.4 kilometres to Dasle from TGV station, with an extra 3.1 kilometres to lodgings at Beaucourt. Total ascent 260 metres.

Back to Belfort: Day 159 & 160

Two days of travelling across England and France to the Belfort-Montbéliard TGV train station.

If it were not for a train strike in Britain I could have returned to the GR5 in one day. However, industrial action by train drivers forced me to use a bus to reach London and timings were such that I had to start the previous day and stay overnight in the capital city. In compensation, after leaving my "youth" hostel in central London I enjoyed a morning wandering around Regent's Park, the tulips and cherry blossom especially attractive. Then, after admiring the oversized statue of a giant couple kissing at St Pancras station I caught a busy Eurostar train to Paris. On leaving the Channel Tunnel and entering France a neighbouring passenger squealed with delight as her smart watch automatically advanced one hour to continental time. The wonders of modern technology!

For my second stroll of the day through a capital city, I spent an hour walking across Paris from Gare du Nord to Gare de Lyon, the trees beside the wide boulevards in young green leaf, as yet unsullied by the grime of the passing traffic.

The last stage of my journey through the darkening evening was on the fast TGV train to Belfort-Montbéliard. These train lines look good from a distance as the tracks stride straight across valleys on long, light viaducts. When actually sitting in a carriage it did not seem much different from normal trains, especially in an aisle seat like mine. (I did not like to look out of the window too much, which might have given me an impression of speed, in case the lady next to me thought I was eyeing her up). Busy at first, I was one of the few remaining passengers in the double decker train when I detrained at my destination. Now approaching ten pm I was glad I could see the garish green of my hotel for the night from the station exit. 

Regent's Park 

A walk through Paris