Storyline: Bulgaria with Alex
They say the feeling of time is subjective. For us in these Covid days, it is well obvious with the pace of some events changing fast and then others dragging on for ever.
Rewinding the clock five years (It feels less…and more – A): We stand on the summit of Musala, 2925m (9596ft), the highest peak of Rila Mountains and the highest peak of the Balkans. This is also the highest peak Alex and I have hiked together thus far. And it does feel so far removed as though it never happened.
It is 2015 and it is the last time our friend Krasi would drive us somewhere. His health is not great. He has had a problem with his hip for some time now and walking, let alone hiking, is difficult. We wanted to spend some time in the mountains and he suggested that he could leave us in Borovets, now a popular ski resort with many gondolas and ski lifts, that was an undeveloped starting point for strenuous hikes in my youth.
There are now many hotels to accommodate the skiers in the winter, but most of them struggle for business in the summer.
I used to hike in the Rila Mountains every season in my student years. At that time, hikers were rare and the mountains and lakes were pristine. Everyone abided by the old mountaineers’ rules. We’d sleep in huts high in the mountains after a long day of hikes. The most rustic ones would have bunk beds and blankets, some had a stove and perhaps a sink or an outside spring and a few metal plates and cups. Some would have a person taking care of the hut, but many would be self-serve.
We’d use the wood stove to make tea (wood and tea supplied by the Mountain) and on a rainy day would spread our wet clothes around to dry, have dinner (mostly dry salami, bread and cheese that we’d carry in our backpacks), then clean up after ourselves and jump into a bunk bed for the night, then wake up early to start the next day in the mountains. We’d hike to the Seven Rila Lakes at least twice a year. Once in the winter, through deep snow and once in the summer, when we’d hike up and then across, keeping to the mountain’s ridges. In the summer we’d spent about 20 days hiking from hut to hut or carrying our tents and camping around high mountain lakes. Except for the occasional German hiker, the mountains would be empty by today’s standards.
We’ve been there with the kids, winter and summer.
But with time the die-hard mountaineers were replaced by mass tourism. Ski resorts were built with all the drawbacks of overbuilding, transforming gorgeous nature into a series of highways.
Krasi drove us to Borovets, altitude 1315 m (4314 ft), and we walked by a few empty hotels until we were satisfied with an apartment in a small hotel that also offered us a complimentary breakfast and dinner package. Checked-in, dropped our stuff and off we went to explore. The gondola to Yastrebets summit, 2369 m (7772 ft) was closing at 5pm so we had some time.
In the past we’d hike its very steep slopes, climbing the 1054m to Musala Hut, where we’d overnight before continuing what was a stone’s throw away from there to the peak.
With Krasi’s low mobility however, we only walked about 500m downhill from the ski lift and he pointed to the hut saying it was about 2 hours to get to there.
He wasn’t even thinking that next day I’d attempt to take Alex all the way to Musala summit. I translated to Alex that the hut is about 2 hours away. For some reasons he took it as the summit was only 2 hours away. I guess it was wishful thinking or the difference between the hut and the summit having the same name was lost in translation.
We took a few snapshots and then descended to Borovets on the gondola, had a few beers at a bar, after which Krasi headed back to Sofia, while we wandered around until dinner time at the hotel.
Next morning after an early breakfast we donned our “hiking” attire, took a backpack with the raincoats, 2 bottles of water, small by Alex’s standards, a few apples and headed out.
I wasn’t sure how far I could take Alex. Perhaps to the hut, perhaps to the lake just after, or perhaps a bit further.
But I didn’t think we’d make it to the top. After all he’d been having aFib (atrial fibrillation – a heart condition – A) episodes for years and we hadn’t been in the mountains at all.
We took the gondola again and we had until 5pm when they’d close. If we couldn’t make it back in time, we’d have to hike all the way down he steep hill in the dark.
We reached the hut in about 40 min, which encouraged me to think that we could make it to the summit. “We made it”, Alex would say and I’d reply,
“No, no, we are going all the way there…” pointing to the barely visible Musala station and the Everest shelter below it. But we had made it fast to the chalet/hut and we really had time to attempt the summit.
(It was hot out there, something like 32°C, and we’d pretty much exhausted our small water supply by the time we reached the hut. I had no idea how we’d make the 600-metre climb to the summit, but trusted that Diana wouldn’t lead us astray – A.)
We took our time admiring nature, taking photos of every flower, a frog or a rock and then continuing.
Instead of an empty path leading us up, it was a highway, full of people, families with little kids, already coming down and encouraging us to continue.
We gradually climbed up and eventually reached the shelter Everest Pyramid (2,720 metres). From there it was one last push up and … ta-da… we were at the top! It took us about 4 hours.
Alex, who never expected to be here had a delicious mountain tea (two, actually. I was so very thirsty – A) and exchanged experiences with the hut-keeper. He too has the aFib condition, so he called Alex “colleague”. He also said that he felt better at lower altitudes. The thin air at the peak didn’t help his condition. After the chat and some well-deserved rest, we took a few photos.
I wished we had time to continue on the mountain ridge and stay up there for a few days. But is was time to head back down. Trekking down often is harder than climbing up.
It could be slippery, your knees could bother you, like mine, or many other things.
But we made it back without much of effort just in time for the last gondola. I connected the past with the present. Well done my Love!
Alex:
It was my first time ever at this altitude, other than in an aeroplane. I was a bit concerned about hydration, and all of a sudden, I felt chilled by the breeze at the summit, but the views were breathtaking and it was heartwarming to see Diana in her element for the first time since we had met.
Best of all, my heart didn’t react negatively to the rarefied air and I was able to thoroughly enjoy the experience. The beer back at the hotel quenched my thirst better than any I’d ever had before.
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