The Trail Of The Frozen Pine

It really didn't seem like a good idea to go walking in the mountains on Sunday. After a bitterly cold Saturday in Madrid the forecast for Sunday was for more of the same, and my rucksack was full as we went prepared for all possibilities. The route was from Prádena to Robregordo. Sounds straightforward enough, but Prádena is in Segovia province and Robregordo belongs to Madrid. In between lies the Sierra de Guadarrama, not far from the important northern pass of Somosierra.

We set off in perfect walking conditions, although patches of frozen water gave a hint of how cold it had been during the night. For the second week running we had to follow a different path from that one that was planned because of hunters but it didn't make too much difference. This is Prádena from above.

The first part of the walk took us through an area of juniper trees. As we got a bit higher we hit the snow line and the plants were covered in icy crystals.

In the end I was wearing more clothes than necessary, which is not to say that it was warm but the combination of sunshine, climbing and hardly any wind meant that it was more than bearable. I had no regrets about coming, this was one of these crisp winter days when the clarity of the views is amazing. In one direction you have the Madrid/Segovia frontier, in the other we were looking towards the mountains separating Soria and Guadalajara. This is also the hydrological division between the Duero to the north and the Tajo to the south.

Most striking of all was the sight of the pine trees and how they manage to make it through the tough winter on the sierra. Each pine seems to have its rough, wind battered Segovian side, and a greener, softer Madrileño side.

On the way down to Robregordo we stopped to take a look at a different kind of tree. This is a holly tree, and this area is well known for the species. Much bigger than the holly I remember from the UK, you can walk inside this one. The leaves, when the tree grows higher, are no longer prickly. It seems they grow that way further down as a protective adaptation.

A memorable day in the mountains, and well timed. After a grim and freezing start to the week yesterday and today I imagine that this route would be difficult to do.

Gavilanes To Pedro Bernardo

A brief respite from what is being quite a tough winter in Madrid meant that last Sunday was a good day for doing some walking. The route was in the lower part of the Sierra de Gredos, connecting the two small villages of Gavilanes and Pedro Bernardo. I wonder if you can guess, from visual clues in the images below, which political party controls Gavilanes? I'll offer another hint, it's not the Falange.

The route climbs up from the top of Gavilanes through the woods, following a beautiful path. This area was once an important source of resin extracted from the pine trees for industrial uses, but now the woods are just for walkers....and hunters. Higher up we wandered into the middle of a batida de caza, behind every tree or large rock there seemed to be a heavily armed hunter waiting to see whether the dogs could drive something his way. They didn't seem very pleased to see us and we had to change our route just in case someone confused a group of 25 walkers with a wild boar.

Down below there were views far across to the province of Toledo.

The water tumbling down the hillside in this image is not a natural stream. The water has been redirected for electricity generation and falls some 400 metres down the mountain.

Sadly, the area near Pedro Bernardo is no longer so beautiful as it once was, two fires in recent years have destroyed much of the woodland. Pedro Bernardo itself looks from above like quite a large village but many of its houses are only occupied at the weekends, many of the villagers live in Madrid.

Help A Wolf Across The Duero

How does "You can't shoot me, I live south of the river" sound as an argument? The river in this case is the Duero and for the Iberian wolf it has now become the official boundary between being a hunted species and a protected one. This is not to the liking of the regional government in Castilla y León who generally like to give a free hand to those who want to hunt animals over those parts of the landscape that have not yet been turned into urbanisations. Fortunately for the wolf the local courts are not yet quite as subordinated to political power as they are in certain other regions I could mention. So there is at least some protection in the region that contains the greatest part of the wolf population in Spain. Getting them to cross the river is another matter.

It's A Vole, Not A Mole

There is a plague of topillos covering much of central Spain this summer. It doesn't seem very Biblical, they sound far less threatening than locusts for example, but the little beasts are steadily munching their way through a high proportion of crops in Castilla and Leon; and the menace is still spreading. So what is the difference between a topo (mole) and a topillo? That was the question I put to a couple of Spanish people I know last weekend. The answers I got were not very convincing, suggesting that it's been a while since the last plague. Having seen a picture of one in the paper, I didn't really buy the suggestion that the topillo was just a smaller version of the topo, it looked too mouse like. Fortunately there is always Wikipedia, and given that there are thankfully still no conspiracy theories concerning the common vole, the online encyclopaedia contains a decent account of Microtus Arvalis. Nothing to do with blind Mr. Mole at all.


All the farmers in the affected areas are currently clamouring for the use of poison to deal with the plague, presumably any subsequent ecological consequences are entirely accidental. They are also starting to use “controlled” burning of fields to try and hold back the advance of the vole army; which doesn’t strike me as being very wise considering how dry much of Spain tends to be at this time of year. Anyway, now its time to play spot the connection, and the key word for today is poison. Because voles are not the only victims of poisoning in this part of the country. If you take a look at the Wikipedia article I have linked to, you will see that el topillo has quite a distinguished list of predators. The problem is that those who seek to keep natural predators out of the hunting grounds of Castilla and Leon make frequent use of poison to kill them all off. One bad decision breeds another, and maybe the idea that the plague results from an unusually warm winter is just a poisonous rumour?