July became quite an active month for me when it came to hiking, especially in the very first part. Let’s have a closer (and picturesque) look…
The skies are clearing up… slowly
The first hike of July was right on the first day of the month. And I woke up to a morning that was far from bright – light rain showered the town as I put on my clothes. The 5-minute walk to the bus stop wasn’t enough to soak me, fortunately, though it made my jacket wet. The following bus ride – at least three hours – would be enough to let it dry a bit.
During the journey, things were getting progressively better. An hour later, the rain stopped, though the skies remained dark. As the bus took me closer to the hills, the sun even made a shy peek through the cloud cover here and there, but as the bus ascended to the pass, the clouds closed in. The pass itself was barely below the cloud level.
Undeterred, I started the hike. While the rain had stopped, the grass and the blueberry shrubs were soaked from the night’s and morning’s rain, and soon, my pants were soaked knee-high as well. The trails were damp and, sometimes, muddy. As I ascended, I walked through a light fog.
This atmosphere still lasted when I reached the first noteworthy place – the collapsed stone arch. In a place where I usually play with which town our peak around to “put” into the gap, I could only gaze at the endless gray.
Almost an hour later at a mostly relaxed place, I reached the second stone formation. The weather still held no hint of change. Infrequent gusts of wind didn’t give that much hope for blowing the clouds apart, so I continued onward after a short break, heading towards the main peak of this trail.
With mostly the same results. Another short stop after which I descended towards the nearby chalet. With a lot of time to spare, I decided to stop by not just for a hot beverage, but also for some warm (but light) food. My stop there took almost an hour, and when I left the chalet, the skies were very different: a lot of blue spots between the white clouds, and almost no gray left. In this, much more optimistic weather, I started my descent.
The trail took me around one smaller slab of rock as I headed towards the last rock formation (and the largest one of the day’s hike).
With the sunlight brightening up the mood, I took a couple of photos – first from the front. Then, I scrambled up on the second spire to take a photo of the whole chain.
Climbing down proved to be a bit more challenging than I’d liked, but I managed after trying a couple of times whether it’ll be easier front-first or back-first. I then followed a footpath towards the hind spire. The underbrush was still damp, and my recently-dried pants were back to where I began, though this troubled me little in the better weather.
After that, I continued with my descent. I reached the ski resort with over two hours left, so I made a short loop through the woods around, admiring the flowers blooming on the ski slope.
Father-son bonding
The second hike was midway through the following week: the 5th and 6th of July are national holidays in my country, which is a good opportunity to go outside. After a while of thinking, I chose a place that shouldn’t be as crowded as some other places can be on such days.
The trail led mostly through the woods, and it was a gentle ascension, which was a good fit for my father who had a long break from hiking. The clearings allowed us to look around a bit, but the skies were far from clear, so we couldn’t see as far as we’d liked.
At a relaxed (for me, at least) pace, we reached the highest point of our hike, with a solitary rock formation – in a location where those are quite rare.
Then, we walked to the nearby chalet, where we took a break before starting our descent. This wasn’t as smooth, but the steeper parts were short, so it wasn’t too taxing on my father. The second part was, again, quite easy (mostly using a supply road to a nearby hotel). During the second half of the descent, a light rain came. It lasted for maybe 30 minutes and, fortunately, wasn’t strong enough to truly make us wet. As an added bonus, it sent the bothersome bugs to their shelters.
The rain also stopped some 15 minutes before we reached our destination, which allowed us to dry up a bit.
A couple of mishaps
The Saturday – mere two days after the hike with my father – promised a clear, warm day. Perfect for a long hike. And I had the intention to make good use of it. My rough plan was a hike around 28km long. I chose a sleeveless T-shirt given the forecast (30°C+ and clear skies) and sandals, especially as the trail is relatively easy-going.
Once I left the bus in the pass, I was pushed to a brisk start: in the shade of the woods, the morning wasn’t that warm, so I had to warm myself up the hard way. Which, given the steady but light ascension, took maybe 15 minutes. I had no intention of easing up, though.
Soon, the forest was no longer as dense and I could enjoy the sunlight. At that point, I was warmed up more than enough. By the time I reached the first peak – one that looks like it’s falling apart – I was sweating noticeably.
After there, the trail follows the main peaks over rolling grassy highlands – the dry soil and soft grass made sandals a perfect choice, keeping my feet relatively cool, unlike most of my body. A light breeze helped to cool me down. In such conditions, it was easy to push for speed across the grasslands.
I took a short break at one of the passes with a natural spring, saving my own supplies by having quite a few handfuls of the cold, mountain water – and then, on I went with the wind. When the grassy plains ended, I descended to the ski resorts and followed the main trail towards the main peak. This part is on a wide asphalt road that serves as a supply route to several hotels. This part is usually very crowded, but I was there later than usual (for most people the resort is the starting place, I had it almost halfway through).
I planned to snack at the main peak, but swarms of flies and bugs bothered the hell out of me, so as soon as I reached the peak, I turned around and continued onward at a high pace until I put those flying buggers far behind me – only then I dared to reach into my backpack for food.
I took a short break at the chalet – at that point, I was just a bit shy of the 20km mark despite being only a bit after noon. I grabbed a cold drink there and considered my options: the original plan was to start my descent here, but the day was still somewhat young, and I wasn’t feeling like anywhere near done yet. So, I decided to continue down the main trail and descend later – though this meant stretching the hike over 30km. Well, I felt more than ready for this. By now, the trail is no more grasslands – instead, it’s low spruces and the flat parts are mossy. Thus, wooden walkways are placed in some parts.
As I was reaching the end of the second wooden walkway, I was considering whether I could extend the hike further – there was still no sign of fatigue. Then, I knew the only place I can do some adjustments is the same pass where my hike started a week before. My mind was put to work to do some quick and rough calculations about the options of possible detours that could bring the hike somewhere between 35 and 40km (my best, so far, was 36km).
Shortly after this point, the trail goes through a short but sharp descent, before it levels out again. At the end of this descent, a small pebble managed to fall between my hell and the heel strap of my sandals. In mere few steps – before I reacted and stopped – it scraped me in a way similar to when a blister breaks. An injury that’s completely meaningless, but quite painful. I tried to continue normally, but the strap was pushing against my scraped skin and making things worse. I adjusted my pace and the way I used my left foot, but it didn’t seem to help. I continued this way a short distance as I knew there’s a sheltered bench nearby.
I dug through my backpack, knowing to have some band-aid there, and one of them looked quite heavy-duty. I pulled it out – and barely held back some not-exactly-nice words: it had been in the backpack for a long time, and ended up sticking to itself in a way that made it useless. So I took the newer, ordinary band aid, and put it over the scraped skin.
It lasted maybe five steps – on my sweaty and dusty leg, it had no chance to hold. I continued at a slow pace (for me, not so much for normal people), thinking furiously. Eventually, I wrapped my foot in a handkerchief – after I folded it a couple of times, it created a layer that prevented further abrasion. With this improvised “bandage”, I resumed my walk, back to my usual (swift) pace, though I probably had to look quite weird going full speed with my left foot like this:
Obviously, this put any hope of further extending the hike to a halt – while I had more than enough energy, and the handkerchief prevented any further abrasion or pain, it wasn’t exactly comfortable. Thus, I took the shortest way down when I reached the pass.
When the path neared a stream flowing from the pass, I checked my time – based on my current speed, I could afford maybe a 20-minute break. I put down my backpack, took off my T-shirt, removed the handkerchief, and splashed into the stream, cleaning not just the injured foot, but most of my body. Given the heat, this was very welcome. I also gave my sweaty top some light scrubbing. Then, I washed the handkerchief, fixed it back to my foot, and resumed the rest of my descent. Topless, with my hairy chest on full display, with water dripping from my stream-washed top. I hoped no one would be offended, but I was past the point to care.
Down in the small town, the trail towards the train station led me through a resort, so i stopped there to grab an ice cream, walked the remaining distance to the train station, bought a ticket, and dug the backpack for a spare T-shirt. Around that time, I also noticed that my shoulders were subjected to maybe a bit too much sunlight, and I was about to have a light sunburn. The joy.
I boarded the train, plopped down to a seat near the door, and let my mind go blank. The scrape would heal soon. So would the light sunburn. I would be ready for more the next weekend. And I would have more – but that’s a story for the next time.
So, this is a glance at my first three July hikes. Two more came in the rest of the month – I’ll be sharing the story in another post coming soon. For now, I hope you’ve had fun this summer so far – and that the rest will be nice to you.
Tomas - the wandering dreamer 