Stage 1 — Calenzana to Refuge d'Ortu di u Piobbu

Just before we started on our way, a woman walked up to the trailhead and asked "Commencer vous?" After few moments of lingual stumbling we learned that she's actually British, and was visiting friends in Corsica. The interesting bit of news she told us was that for the past two weeks GR20 hikers had been advised to start in the south and walk north. The winter had been very snowy, and there was still some snow keeping parts of the northern route closed. Also, rain had been forecast (and had fallen) the week before our arrival. So by starting in the south hikers would mostly miss the rain, and give the snow another week to melt a bit more. In just the past day or two the weather had been good enough for people to start from the north.

Weather was not a problem for us that day. There were few clouds in the sky, barely a breeze, and the temperature was hot but bearable. We walked for about an hour, up to a nice vista point where we could just see Calenzana and the Mediterranean Sea beyond. After a quick snack we walked another hour or so, to a short section of the trail shaded by some tall pine trees. This first half of the first stage is steadily and unrelentingly uphill. While it's no small task, in some ways it is a gentle introduction to what's to come in the days that follow.

The first stage is divided into five memorable sections. There's the initial ascent to the stand of pine trees (near the Ruisseau d'Arghioa), the subsequent switchbacks up to the first col (Boccu a u Saltu), a cool walk, almost downhill, through a laricio pine forest, a scramble up to the second col (Boccu a u Bassiguellu), and then the traverse around to the refuge. Each of these sections has a distinct character, with different types of views, different grades of hiking, and different surroundings.

After a short rest in the shade by the Ruisseau d'Arghioa (a rivulet really), we continued uphill. At this point we separated, each of us keeping his own pace. We also started to meet other hikers on the path, exchanging "bonjour" as the hiker passed the rester. These faces would become more familiar during the week, but for the moment we were strangers sharing a strenuous hike on a beautiful day. Remembering back I recall when it was that I first saw this group of people or that individual, with whom we would be hiking for the rest of the week. We gave most of these little groups a descriptive name so we could keep them straight in conversation.

At one part of the scramble up to the Boccu a u Bassiguellu I was paying too much attention to the scenery and not enough to the red and white blazes, so I got a bit off track. Luckily for me a solo hiker who had been on the GR20 before was just within sight, and unknowingly saved me from a long backtrack.

Other than that the second half of the hike was fairly level, good for a long stride, and over too soon. I arrived at the refuge feeling great (I was a bit anxious about the first day, having heard it was tough), set my pack down and had a snack. I got up the nerve to go into the refuge and try to figure out the protocol for getting a meal and a place to sleep, in French. Believe me it was ugly until a French speaking hiker bailed me out (with an ever so slight rolling of his eyes). Some clouds had rolled in that afternoon, so I reserved two pads inside the refuge, with dinner and breakfast.

I took a few pictures, then started back along the trail with news of our accomodations and a Larabar for Markus. I think that's when he decided that spinning (riding a stationary bike) was not ideal training for hiking. He was carrying a heavier pack with a bunch of photography gear, but he was in good spirits as usual. He was not so interested in staying in the refuge, preferring a tent, and I was having second thoughts about sleeping with 20 roommates (even though I had ear plugs).

Having decided to pitch tents, we went in search of good sites. We probably got the last two (marginal) spots. Not surprising given our departure time, my delay in reserving a site, and the fact that we were sharing the refuge with a large south-north hiker contingent (in addition to our fellow north-south hikers).

Once our tents were set up we had plenty of time to relax, take in the scenery, and talk about the hike that day, watch the sun start to set, and then quickly put on warmer clothes as the temperature dropped. We walked up to the refuge for a bit of warmth, which was timely because dinner was being served. First was a bowl of soup, which we practically inhaled. As there was nothing else on the table, and it didn't look like there was anything coming out of the kitchen, we wondered if perhaps we made the wrong decision not to bring dinner ourselves. But then bread, pasta, and sauce were brought out, and we ate our fill. There was a group of five French men sitting at the table, one of whom was holding forth on some important topic. Markus later named the group "JC and the Disciples", which is frickin hilarious for reasons I won't go into.

Soon after that we went back to our tents to spend our first night on the trail.

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