And then there were three

From Lescun, the walk has become about the group dynamic. My cohorts,
the fish and the dog, have dealt with the terrain differently, and I
have had to slow down, alot. Taking the bag off is now like unfurling
a sail and I feel pure joy in movement, running to scout ahead if the
way is unsure. Some have come better prepared than others, it's often
been difficult, occasionally dangerous and we, and I, have some
powerful lessons to process here.
We have slept in a lightning storm on the side of Pic d'Midi Ossau,
been benighted on the side of Palais in mist, climbed down a grade 3
scramble in the dark with full pack, swam in snow melt lakes and
wandered through vast fields of wild Iris in the mist, experienced
granite moonscape awe at 2600ms and deep fear at the same. The Joosten
guide needs revising, badly. My feet are starting to suffer as I carry
other peoples load and the boots won't dry. Now we wait in the deep
wild valley at the Toue de Casterie under Balaitous, for another storm
to die down and a safe crossing of the Col de Cambrales.