Let's try bikepacking...
After postponing other plans (involving borderd crossings, perhaps difficult during covid-affected times) we decided to wander straight from a small Western-Slovak village where I happened to be located and try to get to the Tatra, because why not - and because, surprisingly, we rather like the sight of glorious granite peaks touching the heaven high above.
(Don't forget to pack a camera, say, with a little 24 and perhaps a tiny 75 too?)
Day 1:
Go suffer!
Go suffer!
About five bike lengths after the prologue' started
Several bike lengths later...
That escalated quickly.
Well, after waiting the whole morning and much of the afternoon for the weather to wise up and settle down, the first stage was changed to a mere prologue. Still, tired after long wait for the rain to come and go (it never came, at least not yet), the Little Carpathians tamed us right away.
A lush garden. They used to make glass here not even a mere seven decades ago....
Going through beech forests and verdant man-made meadows, via long abandoned glass-making hamlets and around game reserves of perished Hungarian Magnates and Bolshevik party cadres, we approached the main ridge and upon it the place huncokár (from German holzhacker - a woodsman, lumberjack) Amon Gaži used to call his home.
We set our camp at the shelter on the edge of Amon's meadow. Listenign to the rain jingling on beech leaves and to the wind playing with the treetops around we tried to sleep. Tomorrow...
Day 2:
North by northeast
North by northeast
Today we need to move.
Riding fast through the beech forests towards the Bradlo, we are searching for a place to get a breakfast while enjoying the Little Carpathian scenery. After a brunch in Brezová there comes the first proper climb to the M. R. Štefánik tomb high above Kopanice (hamlets, scattered through the agriculture landscape) region...
(Swapping lenses while riding a bike is not the kind of fun one wants to enjoy too often, it seems... and 24 is versatile - you keep triyng to persuade yourself.)
(Swapping lenses while riding a bike is not the kind of fun one wants to enjoy too often, it seems... and 24 is versatile - you keep triyng to persuade yourself.)
Looking back towards the Little Carpathians we rode through
An opportunity to use the 75...
Štefánik's tomb
White Carpathians with Velká Javořina on the horizon.
Košariská, where certain M. R. Štefánik was born
Now, it's tarmac time. Whizzing towards Čachtice (the place made famous by certain Elizabeth Bathory and more importantly by the great filmmaker Oldřich Lipský) and the broad valley of downstream Váh, we are led by a strange zeal of the rhythm of pedalling. Reaching Váh plains we decide to go past Trenčín today, reaching as far as possible.
But, just perhaps, the route may have a surprise or two in stock - prepared for tiring wanderers?
A cyclist, working hard
Čachtice, the Mysterious castle in the Carpathians.
Ah, the beautiful ruins of Beckov in the late afternoon light. Trencin is not far, Trencin is close, and with it the hope for dinner and a well deserved beer. (Or two?)
What a convenient rock - in case you are 13th century magnate looking for a building plot. Especially if you are a fan of the La Téne Celts - look no further! Thanks for the tarmac, a clear sign of a socially responsible developer.
... although while tarmac has it's perks, this is so much better.
Look! A stream. How nice! A bursting, gurgling, rushing brook. That's... adorable. What about a bridge?
... Oh... really?
(Where is a Trenčín - when you need one - enabling a struggling cyclist a fleeting vision of a dinner?)
... Oh... really?
(Where is a Trenčín - when you need one - enabling a struggling cyclist a fleeting vision of a dinner?)
Váh valley, the heartland of Slovakia.
Oh, there it is! With it's modern, urban burger and beer glory... Another world. Cosmopolitan. Proud. A self-confident town, the jewel on Váh. With it's castle of Marcus Aurelius and Matúš Csák, with it's beautiful downtown alleys paved by marble blocks, with dinner and beer and dinner and beer...
Hungry and thirsty and tired and dusty, we dedicate but a few shy glances to Trenčín and run from it's downtown allure, repleted pilgrims, renouncing mundane attractions for the call of the journey again.
With 120 kms of pain in our calves and thighs and the greatest of joys in our wandering hearts and doubtful minds we try to find a place to take a nap, disturbing a herd of boars and hoping for a well-deserved, undisturbed rest...
...Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for slugs.
...Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for slugs.
Day 3:
Over hill and under hill and over hill again
Over hill and under hill and over hill again
Ah, a morning. Already?
Sharing our bed (and our backpacks, and our boots, and our everything) with slugs , waking up to charming weather, shaking by cold and disgust (mixed with a not inconsiderable degree of amusement), we set off.
Sharing our bed (and our backpacks, and our boots, and our everything) with slugs , waking up to charming weather, shaking by cold and disgust (mixed with a not inconsiderable degree of amusement), we set off.
Towards peaks of White Carpathians, towards Vršatec, through it's back door, so to speak. Its close. A stone's throw away. Should be fun.
The slug of Damocles
Who doesn't love a good shortcut?
Experimenting with the art of a shortcut - while tasting climbing direct up Carpathian slopes - we are nearing towards Vršatec. Standing on the Moravian border, everything feels tranquil. Tranquil hills. Tranquil forrests, tranquil meadows. Tranquil breeze. Tranquil slog.
We are as fast as an oak in slow motion, but that's fine. No reason to hurry. Afternoon, we should meet a long looked out for third member of the expedition.
The Pruské church
Strážov hills with the eponymous mountain towards the right side.
The Kočkovský canal of Váh, part of the hydroelectric cascade built on the river.
The oldest hydroelectric power station on Váh, built in 1930s.
The sweeping Váh valley again. Narrowing. Like a giant half-pipe!
Now it's time to tackle the climbs at the other side. The thing is... you don't want to stop for lunch in Ilava. Especialy not before climbing anything. Not even a fence of the local public facility. Period.
That's better. The Strážov hills welcome us, armed by tortuous roads and substantial gradients. Let's meet Michael and reach the edge of the rocks of Súlov.
Climbing towards Mojtín
The Radotiná valley
Towards Domaniža
Malá Čierna. The Súlov valley is on the other side of that ridge.
Exhausted, we carry on padalling just by the virtue of habit. After enjoying the Domaniža hospitality, meeting Michael there, now it's time to find a resting place to weather the approaching storm...
What a place to pitch a camp!
The storm's coming.