Alcazaba to Cañada de las Siete Lagunas

The long haul to Alcazaba

In front of me was the long slope of the approach to Alcazaba with the peak beyond.  I had 4 hours to get up the peak and then to the Cañada for the night.  This seemed do-able.  Off I set for Alcazaba – known as the fortress on account of its inaccessibility.  I was really moving now as the end was in sight and the ground was quite easy.  I reached a rise and a small peak and saw in front of me several hundred metres of boulders and broken rock - again.  Above that was the first chunk of the mountain with the main peak behind.

My legs by now were starting to become rebellious and did what they wanted and at times, ignored signals from the brain.  I sat down and had a conference with myself:  we agreed that falling down here could result in breaking something and that was not a good option.  Alcazaba would be here next year and it would be fun to come back.   Better to get to camp early and have a couple of hours mooching about before dark rather than press on and have an accident.

 So it was with some reluctance that I contoured to the west and started the descent to the Cañada.  Very shortly, I caught sight of Mulhacen and the hanging valley with the 7 lakes that confirmed my position.  The obvious path went South down the mountain where I knew a path came in from the right and that led to the Cañada.  I packed away my map as I was now on the home straight and should be there by 19:00.  The path was excellent.  (in the picture on the right, the green patches are grassy areas around the 'Siete Lagunas' - 7 lakes).

The Cañada from the descent of Alcazaba

Ibex against evening sky

As I descended, the Cañada and its lakes were hidden from sight and I pressed on energetically, looking forward to getting the tent up and then just relaxing.  The scenery was outstanding and soon I could see the main Cañada with the lake.  The bells of the cows and the waterfall made a great scene.  Cows?  Waterfall?  They were not evident here last year. 

Oh-oh!  LOST!  I checked my watch and found that it was now 20:00.  I recognised the valley from descriptions that I had read – it was the Culo del Perro (Dog’s Arse river) and way below and to the South-West of where I should have been.  I got out the GPS and (after changing the battery) located the point on the map.  I was several hundred metres too low and way off track - so way-off that I had to change maps.  I had no idea what had happened and I did not know how I was going to find my way back before dark.

Using the route trace on the GPS, I set off at a fiendish pace back up the mountain, determined to get to the campsite before dark.  It seemed to take forever to regain the lost ground.  As I got to the edge of the cliff, I realised that coming down, I had walked straight past the path that led to the Cañada because I had been relaxed and had not paid attention to navigation nor the time. The one good thing was that at this point, a family of Ibex strolled across the skyline, providing a great photo opportunity.

This next picture shows where I went wrong; the  dots show the 'deviation' from the main path - note the steep descent!  The lesson here was that dehydration and tiredness coupled with over-confidence had led to a dangerous mix of poor judgement and lack of concentration.

Arriving at the Cañada in the shadow of Mulhacen, I chose a camping place and set up the tent.  The camping places are marked with low stone walls, as the ecosystem is fragile.  In the past, before the road to Mulhacen was closed, people would drive up and then camp in the Cañada, leaving behind the detritus of modern living - tuna tins, bottles etc.

The route to the Cañada hanging valley

Home

Although the littering stopped several years ago when the road was closed and access was on foot only (who is going to haul cans of tuna many thousands of metres up the mountain?) the remnants of the mess were still evident last year.  To my pleasure and surprise, this year all the litter was gone and the area was really clean and back to nature.  I found it uplifting to see for once, something getting better rather than deteriorating.

Putting up the tent was easy except for several attempts to put the flysheet on the wrong way.  It is quite revealing how inept one becomes when tired and dehydrated.   It was now 21:30 and getting dark.   There was real pleasure in getting hunkered down in a tent alone on top of the Sierras.    That night I heated up 2 dehydrated meals and eat them one after the other -–one beef and one chicken.   You put hot water into the specially shaped bag and ate them out of the bag.  No matter that they get gooey and look like someone has thrown up into the bag – you still eat and enjoy them!

Sunset over the Cañada

Dawn in the Cañada

Sleeping in a tent is an interesting affair.   I have a tendency to feel really tired, get into the sleeping bag, and then ‘ping!’  Wide-awake and lying there wondering why I got into the bag so early.   The night was reasonable; periods of wakefulness then the usual deep, black sleep just before dawn.  With great reluctance, I peered into the dawn.   Another clear day, sun topping the ridges and no a breath of wind.  Very cold, even at this time of year.  The Cañada is a spectacular place at sunrise.  The area is totally silent, no wind completely still with the sun just topping the peaks with the blackness in the valley slowly lifting with the sunrise.   

Quick breakfast, top up the water, roll up the now rather wet (heavy dew up there) and set off for Spain’s highest peak, Mulhacen.  Been here before, not a problem.