Home " Gazette " Readings " The Parpaillon saga " Page 11

The Parpaillon saga

Les petits Génies du Parpaillon - Martial Garcia- CC n° 3525
Perpignan (Pyrénées-Orientales) - review no. 24, 1996

Once upon a time, there was a cyclist who dreamed of the legendary Parpaillon.

So he decided to come to Jausiers. He got up early, got on his bike, and with his rucksack on his back, headed for La Condamine...

When he arrived in the village, he bought his bread and set off in the direction of Saint-Anne. After a few kilometres of climbing, he arrived at the chapel of Saint-Anne. He took a few photos and had a bite to eat - climbing makes you hungry!

He filled his water bottles with fresh water from the fountain. He knew that the climb would be tough under the blazing sun and that water would be scarce. After crossing a larch forest, he reached the Bérard bridge. Then, crossing another wooden bridge, he saw an isolated hut just above.

This was the Parpaillon hut. This is where the real trail begins.

After a few hundred metres, a shrill whistle sounded! Surprised, he turned his head and saw one of these little geniuses, standing like an i, facing him. Devil! thought the cyclist, he doesn't appreciate my passing by. On the contrary", the little genie told him, "we're whistling to encourage you to climb up to the tunnel. And all the way up the whistles encouraged the cyclist.

Sneaking along, the little geniuses, who are, as you can imagine, nothing more than beautiful marmots, accompanied him to the tunnel. A tunnel so dark, so wet, but so coveted. After the crossing and a nice ice-cold footbath, he descended towards Embrun, then on to the magnificent Serre-Ponçon lake.

He arrived in Jausiers that evening, tired but proud and very happy.

Now he knew the Parpaillon!