La Coma i la Pedra

The church bell in La Pedra strikes noon, yet the only sound afterwards is a tractor gearing down on the LV-4241. No café terrace buzz, no souvenir tat, just stone barns, the smell of pine resin and a view that rolls southwards over 40 kilometres of empty forest. This is the Catalan Prepirineu at its most matter-of-fact: a scatter of hamlets that merged in 1972 to become La Coma i la Pedra, now home to 275 residents and twice as many cows.

Altitude changes everything. At 1,050 m the air is thinner, nights drop below 15 °C even in July, and the Sierra del Cadí floats on the horizon like a granite wave. Drive up from Solsona – 25 minutes of hair-pin bends – and the temperature gauge in the hire car falls five degrees. Mobile signal flickers out halfway; by the time you reach the village shop (open 09:00-13:00, closed Wednesday) roaming has given up completely. The relief is immediate.

Stone, Forest, Sky

Settlement here follows the water. Tiny stone nuclei – La Coma, La Pedra, Sorribes, Valls – sit on shelves above the Riu Negre, linked by pack-animal tracks now rebranded as footpaths. Houses are built from the mountain itself: schist walls 60 cm thick, slate roofs weighted with rocks against the tramuntana wind. Barns still have hay-loft doors big enough for a pitchfork; many have been converted, slowly, into weekend refuges for Barcelona families who arrive on Friday night and speak only Catalan.

Walking starts literally outside the church door. A three-hour loop threads together Sant Andreu de La Pedra, the Romanesque chapel of Sant Bartomeu and the even smaller ermita of Sant Miquel, each perched on a ridge that doubles as a natural balcony. Way-marking is discreet – a flash of yellow paint on a dry-stone wall – so pick up the free leaflet in Solsona’s tourist office first. The paths are stony; after rain the schist turns into a slide, so boots with grip are non-negotiable. Expect to meet no-one, save the occasional shepherd on a quad bike moving his cattle up to summer pasture.

Cyclists arrive for the forest tracks that climb relentlessly to 1,600 m before dropping into the next valley. A 20-kilometre circuit from La Coma to Sorribes and back gains 650 m of ascent – enough to make thighs burn, but the reward is a 7-kilometre descent through black-pine scented tunnels. Mountain-bike hire is available in Solsona; reserve the night before, because the shop owner drives up with the bikes only if the weather is decent.

Snow, Silence, Soup

Winter turns the place monochrome. Snow usually arrives between Christmas and Twelfth Night and can linger until March. The village itself has no lifts, but Port del Comte is 18 km away – 25 minutes on cleared roads – and weekday lift passes are €36, half the price of the better-known Pyrenees stations. Come back at dusk and the only place still serving food is Hotel l’Avet in La Coma, where a bowl of escudella (meat-and-barley stew) and a chunk of trinxat, the local cabbage-and-potato cake, costs €14 and tastes better than anything on the pistes.

Back in the village, heating is by pellet stove or firewood; most rentals include one basket of logs, then it’s €6 a sack from the farmer opposite the church. Nights are star-spangled and silent – the nearest street light is 12 km down the valley. Bring a paperback and a woolly jumper; nightlife is the sound of your own kettle.

What You’ll Eat, What You’ll Pay

There are no restaurants in the strict sense, only two bar-hotels and a handful of farm kitchens that open to the public at weekends. House specialities follow the seasons: river trout in May, wild mushrooms in October, veal from calves that grazed the surrounding meadows. Starters arrive whether you order them or not – expect a plate of local pa de fetge, a mild liver sausage sliced thin, and country bread rubbed with tomato. Wine is from the Coster Segre co-operative; the house red is drinkable, the rosé surprisingly good when chilled in the mountain spring.

Set-menu prices hover around €16 for three courses, coffee and half a bottle of wine. Vegetarians get omelette or grilled goat’s cheese; vegans will struggle. Tipping is casual – leave the change up to the nearest euro. Cards are accepted, but the machine often relies on that elusive signal, so carry cash.

Getting Here, Staying Put

The last bus from Barcelona reaches Solsona at 19:30; after that a taxi is the only way up the mountain and will cost €35-40 if pre-booked. Car hire from Barcelona airport (90 minutes on the AP-7 and C-16) gives more flexibility and costs about £30 a day in shoulder season. Winter tyres are not compulsory but highly recommended; the final 5 km climbs 400 m and shade keeps ice on the road well into the morning.

Accommodation is limited to 40-odd beds: four rural guesthouses and a clutch of self-catering cottages. A double room with breakfast runs €70-90; whole houses for six start at €140. August and Easter week book up six months ahead; outside those periods you can usually find something three days out. There is no campsite – wild camping is tolerated above the tree line but fires are banned from May to October.

The Catch

La Coma i la Pedra is not for everyone. Mobile coverage is patchy even in the village centre; Whatsapping a photo can take five minutes of arm-waving on the church steps. The shop shuts early and stocks UHT milk, tinned tuna and not much else – stock up in Solsona before you drive up. Rain can strand you indoors for a day; the gravel roads turn to gloop and nobody hurries to clear them. English is rarely spoken, so a basic Catalan phrase-book (or at least Spanish) prevents a lot of polite shrugging.

And if you need entertaining after nine o’clock, bring a pack of cards. The village bar closes when the last customer leaves, usually before 10 pm. Nightlife is the hoot of an owl and, if you’re lucky, the Milky Way stretching from one mountain wall to the other.

Come prepared – boots, phrase-book, sense of altitude – and La Coma i la Pedra delivers a straightforward deal: empty trails, proper mountain weather, food that tastes of the slope it came from. Fail to plan and you’ll sit in a stone cottage wondering why the Wi-Fi died and the shop never opened. Either way, the bell will still strike noon, the tractor will still change gear, and the mountains will still be there in the morning.