The Mine du Bulard has had many names. Today it is often called the Machu Picchu du Biros for its spectacular knife edge ruins which lie under the forbidding face of the Mail de Bulard which soars to 2,750 m.
Such a rich vein of lead and silver zinc was discovered in 1853 that the mine was to become known as the Queen of the Pyrenees.
However, the miners who worked there called it the Maneater due to the deaths that occurred in the dangerous high altitude working conditions – nestled in a remote corner of the French Ariège at 2,370 m, it is the highest mine in Europe.
To Cabane Lasplanous
We decided to explore it on a leisurely 3 day trip in the mountains. We cheated by turning off on the piste forestière just before Luentein in the Orle Valley. This took us 3.5 km further up the hill so that we started the walk at 1,235 m. saving us some 300 m of climbing and allowing us to leave late in the day.
After 3.5 km one reaches a no entry sign with a barrier. There is a flat grassy clearing with nice views just below it where one can park – it would also make a nice rough camp!
Our route continued along the forest track for about 1 hour 20 minutes of gradual climbing until we reached the Cabane de l’Arech, which has a room to one side reserved for walkers. Most of it is used by a pair of permanent summer shepherds and it even has the luxury of solar electricity.
We intended carrying on to the Col de l’Arech and the Lasplanous cabin but as there was no water up there we paused to have a coffee break and fill up our water bottles.
A shepherd found us and we had a chat. He was quite an exotic one with a golden complexion and hailed originally from Martinique.
He spoke some English, having been a European coach driver at one point. He had even visited Manchester with a bus load of Chinese tourists.
‘Click, click, click’, he mimed and continued to say how much he loved England.
‘How do you say… the liberty? You can talk to people in the street, they are not stuck up like the French! ‘ Again he mimed, this time with a hurried walk and his nose in the air!
He sounded as if he were a candidate for a Calais dingy, or at least wished he were, but one would assume that not even the English leftie woke brigade could find a reason to keep a Frenchman! We sadly declined his offer of wine and accommodation and continued on our way.
The path climbed steeply from the hut and we took care to avoid a chained patou. Gradually we emerged above the clouds which had been dogging our steps and reached the Col, where we were greeted by another shepherd and more woofing guard dogs.
These thick coated white patous are now becoming quite common with the return of bears to the Ariège. They reduce herd losses by approximately 90% and are most efficient when used in combination with shepherds and electric fences or enclosures at night.
A carnivore does not naturally protect a herbivore: the puppies are isolated at about 7 weeks of age and inserted into a sheep herd so that they learn to view the sheep as family. Later their protective instincts will guard the herds on the mountain and they can be quite fearsome, although usually if one ignores them they will back off.
They came rushing up to us but at least seemed to respect our hiking poles! The following day we were to see a hiker take his backpack off and hold it in front of his legs for protection until rescued by the shepherd.
The bijou Cabane Lasplanous, at 1,839 m, was thankfully vacant and we sat outside in the evening sun enjoying the superb views over the fluffy clouds which colonised the valleys below.
The distinctive silhouette of Mt Valier loomed like a shark’s fin to our left and the track to the mine snaked steeply up the opposite mountain.
Later we enjoyed sunset from the little nobble above the cabin whilst the clouds still writhed below. The cloud inversions in the mountains are quite spectacular.
Mines de Bulard
After a comfy night’s sleep in the attic of our little cabin – double mattress thoughtfully provided although we took the precaution of covering it with a tarp – we left after breakfast at 8.30 am.
Heading straight down the hill from the cabin, with the old corrals and some sadly defunct water troughs on our left, we intersected the GR10 just before a distinctive rocky outcrop.
We looked over the edge at the cabin below to find that the shepherds were just releasing the sheep from their overnight corrals. A short stint on the GR10 followed then we bore off up the steep mountain side, the track gradually leading up in rough zigzags, the surrounding vegetation a riot of gloriously pink rhododendron bushes.
We ascended to a flatter traverse which led us past a ruined cabin with its roof long fallen in. To our right, the tall rusty metal pylons climbed up the gully beside us until we merged with them at a col – one had succumbed to time and lay in a crumpled heap like a folded up pram.
The path now ducked down into the gully where the mines are found, neatly tucked at the top under a pyramidal peak. The ruins of the buildings actually look more impressive from a distance, hugging the side of the mountain with a small terrace to their front. These were the dormitories for the workers with a canteen to one end but only the bare walls survive.
A stretch of permanent snow lies below, but it is slushy and dirty and it was quite easy to walk across to the ruins.
On the other side of a small col, the old wheelhouse still stands in fairly good order and behind it a dark mine opening which is a rather precarious scramble to reach. Venture inside (torch needed) and you will be rewarded with an old wagon.
It is only on looking up at the imposing face of the Mail de Bulard at 2,750 m, that one realizes that the activity didn’t stop there. A rough path leads on around the mountain (fairly inaccessible these days) and there are distant tantalizing views of other mining areas. A tangle of trailing steel cables festoons the rockface, like so many abandoned climbing ropes.
40,000 tonnes of ore were extracted via skips and cables to Bocard d’Eylie until WW1 and plummeting zinc prices bought the mine to an end. There were a couple of later faltering attempts to restart it but nothing of any significance.
The views are superb in all directions and we had a leisurely picnic before heading back to our cabin for a welcome coffee and a lazy afternoon enjoying the fabulous views. The round trip had taken us a very leisurely 5 hours.
As the day drew to an end, a shepherd walked past and asked if we had been there all day. I told him we had visited the mines and were moving on the next day – maybe it is bad form to stay 2 days in a mountain hut!
At least I carried out a sackful of rubbish the next day although lots remained – one would think these shepherds who are going past every day could take any rubbish down to their cabin, where there is car access, for disposal.
A patou paused to say hello then padded after the herd, leaving us to the stillness of the evening. We were very disappointed not to spot any bears.
To the Col des Cassaings
We awoke to another gloriously sunny day and took the direct route to the Col des Cassaings via the distinctive dragon’s back ridge to the north of the cabin.
Initially climbing over and then around some interesting rock formations, we came to the Tuc de la Pale at 1,767 m. This grassy hill is a wonderful viewpoint, especially of the mountains towards the Etang d’Araing.
The way down to the Col at 1,497 m was not so obvious and in trying to avoid dropping down too much, we ended up slithering wildly through the steep beech woods below.
There is another rather scruffy bijou cabin at the col and an old tin GR10 sign which must be quite rare. From there it was an easy walk back through beech trees to the forestry road from where we dropped down to the motorbike.
Our route back over the Col de la Core to Seix was rather hurried as we hoped to get to the very good bakery there before they closed for lunch. Amazingly we did, with Simon virtually parking the bike in the shop on the dot of 12.30 – we felt the resulting pastries were well earned!
