Picos-bagging in Spain

Picos de los Cabrones from Torrecerredo summit - photo David Jamieson

What with one thing and another, it’s been a few years since Deana and I have been bagging beyond the borders of Britain. So, it was with some excitement that in July 2022 we managed to grab a Ryanair bargain flight out to Santander on Spain’s Bay of Biscay, and from there hired a van (weirdly cheaper than a car) to get us into the heart of the Picos de Europa.

It was our first time to this small but perfectly formed limestone massif, but what a hidden gem for the bagger, scrambler and climber! Given that it is only a quarter the size of the English Lake District, it is perhaps not too surprising that the National Park is often overlooked by hill-walkers dazzled by the higher and more extensive summits of the nearby Pyrenees or the Western Alps a bit further afield. But it packs in ten 2000m+ summits and countless smaller peaks, so plenty to keep the prominence accumulators busy for weeks. And it’s not just the density of peaks that draws the eye, but rather their sheer serrated beauty fashioned by karst, water and ice that keeps one attentive at all times.

 Torrecerredo

Our initial objective was Torrecerredo 2649m, P1936m, the highest Picos summit, and an Ultra to boot. The guidebook had advised rope and harness for the final stretch, so I had taken the liberty of hiring a local guide. Juanluis was his name, thirty years younger than us, with physique and facial features honed on rock faces and mountain air. He met us for dinner at Refugio de Urriellu, right under the stunning and sheer 500m vertical cliff of the same name. He had guided someone up that very cliff that afternoon and settled Deana’s misgivings by suggesting that the ascent of Torrecerrado would be a nice “day off” for him by comparison.

Rising at six we sneaked away from our snoring bed-mates into a cloudless dawn that promised only glory and success. Sure enough, after crossing a couple of barren cols and cirques with only inquisitive rebeco (chamois) for company, we arrived at the base of today’s first technical challenge. 

More of a good scramble to start with, the route up the east side of Torrecerrado became increasingly steep and ever more exposed, so we elected to rope up for the final few metres.

The views from the summit were spectacular in all directions. Immediately below us fanned out long lines of saw-toothed limestone that ward off all but the best mountaineers. Whilst on the horizon lay the azure blue Cantabrian Sea to the north and the parched khaki lands of Castile and León to the south.

The summit itself provides limited space to sit and drink in these vistas, but a small-walled wind shelter of loosely piled rock at least gave us the chance to celebrate in relative safety on blood-dark chorizo made by our guide’s grandfather … I only wished that I brought whisky from home to complement it.

We reversed our route, diminishing any hazard by use of the arresting rope and stopping only so that Juanluis could admonish another climber ascending in just shorts and sandals, with a plastic bag to carry any essentials! He almost went apoplectic at the bikinied woman we passed a little further along … she was maybe looking for the beach.

Back at the Refugio by noon gave us time for a couple of cold cervezas before a sun-drenched and energy sapping descent to our van near the wonderfully characteristic village of Sotres in the distant valley below.

Peña Vieja  and Torre de los Horcados Rojos

After a couple of days recovery we headed round to the south side of the Picos, where the Fuente Dé cable car climbs to an elevation of 1823 metres in just four minutes. This gives quick and easy access to a whole range of peaks and mountain valleys. We settled on two summit attempts …. Peña Vieja 2614m, P270m and Torre de los Horcados Rojos 2506m, P115m.

Making one of the first “climbers” cars at 8am meant that we could cover the initial on-foot kilometres in the shade of the Peña Vieja ridge, a factor well worth considering given the unrelenting July sunshine. Two-thirds of the way along the PR23 path we veered off onto a much steeper path up the La Canalona gully …. a series of scree zigzags and loose boulder clambering. This thankfully ends at an airy col, from which a well-defined scree path heads south-east to the Peña Vieja top. The final hundred metres or so may deter those not confident of their footing or head-for-heights, but the narrow summit ledge at 2614m is fine reward for the effort.

Once back on the PR23 “tourist path” (there were sandalled adventurers a-plenty), it brought us to the famed Cabaña Verónica, a refuge fashioned out of the gun turret of an American aircraft carrier. I have no idea why or how they got it up the mountainside, but it’s a unique place to gather with fellow walkers over lunch and selfies.

Sun-screened and satiated, the climb to Torre de Horcados Rojos was akin to doing Scafell Pike, England’s highest mountain, on a summer bank holiday. Hundreds of otherwise happy valley folk streamed up the tight shaley zigzags to a double-top summit, those with even greater daring-do crossing the short narrow ridge between the two. At 2568m it is no mean feat, but probably ranks amongst the easier high Picos tops.

Peña Prieta

Our third big day out was to Peña Prieta 2539m, P943m, the so-called queen of Fuentes Carrionas and the highest summit of the Cordillera Cantábrica, just outside of the Picos proper. It can be tackled from a number of directions. We chose a north-west approach from the car park at Puerto de San Glorio on the mountain pass traversed by the N-621 between La Vega and Llanaves de la Reina.  This is a fabulously steep serpentine road that seemed particularly popular with motor-bikers keen to test their cornering and high speed braking skills amongst like-minded leather wearers.

Within thirty minutes we had reached the Alpine Club’s Refugio Marinas in the Naranco Valley, which was teeming with hundreds of semi-wild horses and more somnolent cattle. Unfortunately it was closed so we pressed on up the valley to a col leading into the Vega de Bobias. The well-trod footpath ran out at this point, so we followed a cross country skiing route marked on the map alongside Arroyo de la Canaleta, which climbed up to the Alto de la Canaleta ridge. A cairn-marked path along the ridge led us south-east to the summit of Tres Provincias and then on to the shale dark north face of Peña Prieta that gives it its name (Prieta meaning black).

The whole climb took less than three hours, but as it was getting very hot we decided to reverse our route back to the car. There are some really excellent neighbouring peaks that could easily be added to a longer excursion, and of the few fellow travellers we came across, most were planning to camp out overnight or had started their day around 4am in order to make a comprehensive outing. There have been ambitions to turn the area into a ski resort, but that seems to have come to nought, following stern opposition from wilderness fans and likely also its economic idiocy in the face of climate change.

All-in-all, a great trip combining stunning mountains with picturesque mountain villages, Rioja, rebeco, oak and beech forests, and alpine meadows filled with many-coloured flowers. My advice, put it on your bagging “to do” list immediately! It could be even more fun in winter.

David Jamieson