Day 6:
(Through the) Immortal Forest
(Through the) Immortal Forest
You must gather your party before venturing forth.
You must gather your party before venturing forth.
You must gather your party before venturing forth.
You must gather your party before venturing forth.
You must gather your party...
You must gather your party before venturing forth.
You must gather your party before venturing forth.
You must gather your party before venturing forth.
You must gather your party...
Our roof - with a balcony - in Mengusovce.
It's morning! It's time - I beg your pardon, it's about time to leave Mengusovce behind and embark on ventures new. (Taking a proper breakfast with at least tripple coffee into account.) (1)
(Footnote 1: Meanwhile decent people had had their tea aeons ago.)
(Footnote 1: Meanwhile decent people had had their tea aeons ago.)
Oh, finally! (With emphasis on proper prolonged "fine".) Let's ride. Let's ride to Vyšné Hágy and take the Liberty highway to the left. Let's ride and enjoy the fine morning weather.
The Poprad. It flows towards the Vistula. Soon, we'll cross the watershed and another stream, flowing to the Danube.
Hydration time
Fine weather, for goodness' sake!
As any adventurer worthy of the label knows, leaving a highway is of utmost importance. Soon we'll turn right, into the heart of the Tatra mountains. There, under lofty heights where the ridges of Western and High Tatra mountains meet, lies the Immortal Forest. (2)
(Footnote 2: The Immortal Forest is a wonderful documentary by Erik Baláž. It explores the deep forests of the layered valleys of Tichá and Koprová dolina, the catchment area of the Whitewater river, and explains self-renewing functions of the forest eco-system with the role of beasts, expecially bears for the environmental equilibrium. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt4146076/ )
In 2007 the forests of Tichá and Koprová dolina became a reason for clashes between environmental activists and a state-owned logging company. After prolonged discussions the Ministry of Enviroment canceled the exception enabling logging there and the local forests are now left to their own devices.
(The local calamity - misused as a cause for logging - was caused by a terrible gale which swept the forests of southern Tatra slopes in 2004. Those wounds are still clearly visible on surrounding slopes. After the storm, a bark beetle invaded those woods, destroying what the wind has left. It will take many decades for the forest to regain it's former lush extent.)
We would like to ride through both valleys - as far as the bike is allowed - and immerse ourselves in their (almost) unspoilt atmosphere.
The hillock on the right looks rather peculiar. I wonder what's up there?
For the glory of you who paid a tribute of blood for the meaning of life
The memorial to Slovak anti-nazi resistance in Podbanské.
The Whitewater river took it's name from the cascades of rapids forming it's upper course.
Belá - the Whitewater. A rapid stream that shapes the surrounding landscape and often changes it's tangled bed due to seasonal flooding. We perceive the overwhelming power the river claims during spring when the snow gradually melts, fascinated by huge tree trunks and boulders it left behind.
The river, known as Whitewater already in the Middle Ages, owes it's name to the cascading rapids on it's upper course. It flows towards Liptovský Hrádok, where it joins the waters of Váh and drifts to the Danube and the Black Sea.
We'll follow the flow of the river upsteam as far as the road will allow.
Facial expressions worthy of serious times.
The Storm's havoc is still evident there.
At Belá - the Whitewater
We are gradually climbing the mellow gradients of this majestic valley, surrounded by silent calmness. The wet, gloomy weather adds to the noble tranquility of this giant temple of Nature. The scent of the forrest is filling our lungs, the splendour of surrounding peaks satiating our eyes perhaps more than they can bear.
Time after time the road touches the river. The stream flows calmly, almost lazily here, there it gurgles and roars through it's rapids again, eager to know the valley below. We are climbing silently, completely immersed.
For me, this is the pinnacle of our journey, the goal not sought and yet found here by chance.
The higher parts of Tichá dolina. Clouds in the background cover the peaks of Svinica and Valentková. On the ridge on the left the Lily Saddle separates the Western and High Tatras. The Polish border follows the watershed.
While the valley turns eastwards the landscape changes. The river is restless, rushing down a winding bed. We are approaching the forest's upper limits, the trees grow lower here. Catching a glimpse of Svinica covered by clouds, surrounded by mountains, we enjoy few precious moments of complete peace. Affected by the local atmosphere, we are in no rush to return down, towards civilization.
But what about the other valley we long to know? (What a whataboutery!) Our time is limited by the hours of daylight. Resigned, we climb our mounts and let the journey continue.
Looking back towards the valley road. Behind the saddle lies Poland.
The downhill is fast with the atmosphere of contemplation broken soon - but not forgotten nor forlorn. In a few moments we'd reach the confluence of the Whitewater with the Koprový stream and start climbing again. The gradient is steeper there, our legs tiring. We want to reach the waterfall of Andrej Kmeť in the middle parts of Koprová dolina. The road is closed behind it anyway.
The ascent brings tranquility back.
Glimpses of the Koprový stream open up from the road. We are reaching beyond the treshold, the gradient eases gradually. The valley widens. Riding at a calm pace with our heads held high and open eyes (including the digital third) we are approaching the waterfall.
The waterfall, named after Andrej Kmeť, 19th century Slovak polymath, Catholic priest, geologist, ethnographer, pioneer of archaeology and botany, founder of the precursor of Slovak Academy, a fighter against alcoholism and an antisemite. (Not surprisingly, in the context of the time.)
A calm evening is coming. A peak shines through the disappearing clouds high above, catching the last soft light of the fading day.
Quite a dizziyng height...
It's the majestic Kriváň, a national symbol of Slovakia.
Slovak revivalists of the Springtime of Nations 19th century period used to climb it - following the example of Štúr (3) himself. The ascent is trivial, but towards Koprová dolina the mountain walls drop steeply, with the peak mere two kilometres from us - while being almost 1400 m higher.
We are admiring the charms of the calm evening. Exhausted, serene, with our spirit elated we'll proceed with our quest for a dinner.
(Footnote 3: Stur Lajos, 1815 - 1856, was a legendary hero of the Habsburg Empire, a 1848 revolutionary politician, the leader of the Slovak national revival and the author of the Slovak language standard. He is widely recognized as one of the quintessential figures of Slovak history, particularly by Magyars.)
(Footnote 3: Stur Lajos, 1815 - 1856, was a legendary hero of the Habsburg Empire, a 1848 revolutionary politician, the leader of the Slovak national revival and the author of the Slovak language standard. He is widely recognized as one of the quintessential figures of Slovak history, particularly by Magyars.)
Isn't it crooked a bit?
We bade farewell to the Immortal forest. After a simple dinner in a posh hotel of Podbanské the time had come for spending the night in a camping facility of Račkova dolina. Riding through the cloudless starry night we observed that Tatra had showed us her cordial face today.
Day 7:
Tatra folly
Tatra folly
Using a Cube as a tent pole. Notice the clever usage of Braňo's tarp stretched over our dirty wheels instead of mine.
Every adventure ends. Sooner or later. Today it's our turn to leave the exploration mode. We are descending to the valley below - both literally and symbolically.
One more cup of coffee for the road
one more cup of coffee 'fore I go
to the valley below... (4)
one more cup of coffee 'fore I go
to the valley below... (4)
The thing is, to get a coffee in the Western Tatras one must climb a bit. In our case, the partial goal of a "cuppa" lies in Žiarska dolina, at about 1300 m. a. s. l. Harsh - after a week of suffering. Go suffer. But don't leave without saying goodbye.
(Footnote 4: As stated above, decent people prefer tea. Including cyclists. We consider this indisputable fact important enough to be worth repeating - ad nauseam, if necessary.)
Climbing again, straight away. How adorable.
We share your rucksack-induced suffering.
With a stoicism of a hero...
... you pedal and pedal....
... regardless of the cicumstances.
Now, of course, we must reach the mouth of the valley first.
Chopok and the Ginger on the horizon, right?
Discovering Liptov, the wide sprawling region stretching between the ridges of the Low Tatra and Western Tatra mountains.
A remnant of the days of old, Tatra 148. A truck laid to rest in the landscape it was named after.
Finally we are starting to climb the Žiarská dolina towards the eponymous chalet. The Western Tatra landscape is revealing itself, so far hidden by the forest.
The climb feels hard. For me, it's the second hardest of the whole journey - after the Mojtín one on the third day. I am probably just tired from the whole week - or I may have underestimated breakfast, I guess. Struggling to imagine what Michael must feel with his heavy backpack - or even Braňo riding a heavier bike - I grit my teeth and continue pedaling. Go suffer!
A determined climber on the attack.
... he leaves his rivals in the dust...
... admiring the scenery.
A champion's grimace.
I don't wanna talk about things we've gone through. Though it's hurting me, now it's history...
Once upon a time I used to know a fellow nicknamed "Kávičkár"...
Sometimes even the hero is forced to compromise his ways. How foul!
That's much better. Outstanding ale, easily the best we tasted during the whole journey.
Resting after reaching the chalet of Žiarská chata - our last hors catégorie summit - we have no choice but to descent to the world under. Specifically to Mikuláš train station, where we'll board a train for the lowlands.
It's a melancholic feeling, a journey ending. But I am very much looking forward to meeting my family.
One last timid look back.
Leaving Tatra behind...
... while entering the valley of Liptov. (Velký Choč looming on the right.)
Counting the last miles of our journey we are traversing the undulating Tatra foothills of Liptov. This idiosyncratic region gave so much to mainstream Slovak culture it can be perhaps seen as a caricature of the whole country.
This is the mythical motherland of potato dumpling with cheese or the šmirkas. This is the scene of Jaroš and Jakubisko's Millennial Bee, Chrobák and Grečner's The Return of Dragon and countless other works of Slovak culture. This is the place legendary outlaws Jánošík (an unbiased military veteran of the Francis II. Rákosci war of independence, having served on both sides) and Uhorčík were sentenced to death, tortured and executed. Towns such as Mikuláš and especially Ružomberok once belonged to cultural and industrial hubs of Felvidék (Upper Hungaria) and later Slovakia.
The Gothic church of Smrečany
The 17th Century belltower of Trstené.
The ancient Slavic root of the word Liptov (or Ľuptov) is ľub - to love. And there is indeed lot to love about this land spanning from the ranges of Grater Fatra and Low Tatras to Choč Mountains and the western slopes of High Tatras. Not least the fascinating displays of it's distinct folk culture.
We are passing the 14th century Gothic church of Smrečany and the ancient Romanesque church of Trstené - an almost 800 years old document of High Medieval colonization. After brief visit, we continue, aware of the near appointment with civilization which awaits us.
We are heading for Liptovský Mikuláš, the latest hub (and seat) of the region, a rather mundane town. (Historically the oldest and most important Liptov town was Ružomberok on the western edge of the basin, a royal free city of Hungary since 14th century. Before Mikuláš, the original seat of the Hungarian comitatus was at Liptov Castle and then at Liptovská Mara - a borough flooded by the eponymous dam in 1975. Mara Gothic church belltower is the only remaining structure, standing on the shores of the dam till today.)
From Mikuláš station we'll take a train along the Váh river southwards, heading home.
***
There is still the last chapter to be written. Getting off the train in ancient Trnava (the first town in Upper Hungary granted the royal town charter, later the seat of an archbishop, nicknamed the Little Rome...), we set off for Budmerice, surrounded by the darkness of a balmy summer night. Tired, exhausted, we were used to pedal and so we pedaled, monotonously, unconsciously, stunned, bewitched, stupefied by the endless rhythm of movement, left and right, left and right... surrounded by a chimera of nightscape that does not pass, but remains still.
Michael got off the train earlier, having a car parked up there somewhere north of Trenčín. And so, again, just two of us reached Budmerice where we were about to part.
And here we are. Some 25 kilometres from Trnava I am finally riding the last mile, alone, inert, dog-tired, approaching the door we set off from a week ago. Joyful, ecstatic even.
Feeling the joy of venturing forth.
At the door of my mother-in-law's.
A cyclist, after a week-long holiday relaxation.
Oh, my dear glorious, glorious Slovakia, you scornful piece of heaven on this mother planet of ours, we love you. We admire you, adore you, we cuddle you in our morning dreams, touching, letting ourselves be torn by your diverse beauty.
My glorious Slovakia, with your Carpathian curves, with your lofty, proud past graven into the bones of castles built high above your reefs, your Romanesque sheds scattered across the finest fairytale landscape, with your volatile present, straddled between three centuries, with your mirkwoods interwoven by bright, quick streams, with your mists and your rays of rising Sun, I adore you dearly.
(A indomitable rant which has been bothering me for two years:
Still... your neglected pubs should stop offering ubiquitous Czech lager with a desperate postmodern global tourist cuisine. It's beyond belief how difficult it is to find a normal menu and a Slovak drink between Bradlo and Tatra! Even in a Domaniža in the middle of nowhere* you are limited to pizza and burger, for god's sake! Where are my dumplings with cabbage? Even here in Prague it's easy to get bloody strapačky - with a Czech lager, who would believe it? Prague, the culinary heart of Slovakia? Get yourself together, please. Because no one should have to visit a posh hotel in Podbanské to eat well, right? I take my hat off to the Popradské Pleso Chalet for the excellent simple food they constantly serve and to the Žiarska Chata for the superb local Liptovar they have on tap.)
Still... your neglected pubs should stop offering ubiquitous Czech lager with a desperate postmodern global tourist cuisine. It's beyond belief how difficult it is to find a normal menu and a Slovak drink between Bradlo and Tatra! Even in a Domaniža in the middle of nowhere* you are limited to pizza and burger, for god's sake! Where are my dumplings with cabbage? Even here in Prague it's easy to get bloody strapačky - with a Czech lager, who would believe it? Prague, the culinary heart of Slovakia? Get yourself together, please. Because no one should have to visit a posh hotel in Podbanské to eat well, right? I take my hat off to the Popradské Pleso Chalet for the excellent simple food they constantly serve and to the Žiarska Chata for the superb local Liptovar they have on tap.)
/* This particular nowhere is commonly known as Strážovské vrchy.**/
/** For the record, we avidly admire, cherish and adore such sluggish nowheres. Glory to backwaters, well manured pride of exurbia. The thing is... we don't expect a burger here, allright? (Burger is etymologically derived from a certain North Sea port, the root burg meaning a castle or a borough, a fortified settlement - are there any ramparts we missed in Domaniža?)***/
/*** For the same record, we ate well in Domaniža. We like Domaniža. We remain in no dispute with Domaniža - or with the Strážovské vrchy as a whole. We would like to visit again, wholeheartedly. Oh my... We are going to be hungry, aren't we?/
/** For the record, we avidly admire, cherish and adore such sluggish nowheres. Glory to backwaters, well manured pride of exurbia. The thing is... we don't expect a burger here, allright? (Burger is etymologically derived from a certain North Sea port, the root burg meaning a castle or a borough, a fortified settlement - are there any ramparts we missed in Domaniža?)***/
/*** For the same record, we ate well in Domaniža. We like Domaniža. We remain in no dispute with Domaniža - or with the Strážovské vrchy as a whole. We would like to visit again, wholeheartedly. Oh my... We are going to be hungry, aren't we?/
Go. Go suffer!