Day#3 - The Malá Fatra - Sokolie the Bitch
Pondelok (Monday), 21. augusta 2017-- (excerpts from
my journal The Pressburg Diaries,
vol V and a separate travel diary)
The sun’s out this morning, but it’s chilly. It should warm up later and be OK for hiking. We had a simple breakfast at the pension. I wasn’t terribly hungry, but due to my good forethought, I took the extra bread, ham, and sliced peppers, wrapped them in some napkins, and put them in my backpack for later. We caught the local bus for Starý Dvor—in the middle of almost nowhere—and picked up the trail there. The hike up was gentle, and we traipsed across several meadows which afforded nice views of the surrounding mountain peaks. We rested at Sedla Prislop, the nicest of these meadows between peaks. So far so good. This was the easy part.
The climb was somewhat steep, but going up is easy. Many parts of the trail were studded with roots. At 12:30 (more or less), we made it to the top of Sokolie, 1171 meters above sea level.
There
were several sharp drop-offs, and my legs buckled just peering over the cliffs.
I was careful not to venture too close to any edges. By now, we were pretty
hungry, and thanks to the breakfast leftovers I’d brought, we fashioned
sandwiches. I also had a bag of peanuts and some dried sausages—the central
European equivalent of jerky. It was a good thing I’d brought this much because this was to be the only food we had until we got back down some two or
three hours later.
I won’t mince words. The hike down was a
royal bitch. To me, it was more rock climbing than hiking. We took the yellow
trail to Malé Nocláhy (at 1000 meters) and from there, we picked up the blue
trail back down.
Checking the map at Malé Nocláhy
What. A. Bitch.
Besides the steep and rocky trail, which was hard on the knees, ankles, and feet (thank God I’d chosen the ankle-high hiking boots and not the low-cut shoes!), it was also muddy and slippery in places, thanks to all the rain yesterday and the day before. I had difficulty securing my footing. There were a few really sharp drops and ravines of a few meters, which had to be scaled using chains and ladders.
Ladders were easier than the bloody chains, which rattled loosely, making it tough in some areas to get a good grip. At least the ladders were secured into the rock. I was already hungry again, and I had only a few peanuts left. It was getting harder to stay focused. “It’s an easy trail”, the guidebook said. "Sokolie's a simple one to start with," they said. Easy, simple trail, my ass! Slovaks are born hikers, so almost anything’s “easy” for them. Never trust a hiking guidebook written by a Slovak when it says “easy”. Put that on a different scale and it equates roughly to “moderately challenging with rock climbing involved”. Granted, you don’t need crampons and ropes to do this, but it’s still climbing in my book. I was getting weary and I slipped a few times. Once, I slipped but I managed to grab onto a tree branch overhead, saving myself from butt-sliding down a steep (like an 80-degree angle!) slope. However, in the process, I pulled a muscle in my arm. In a few places, I decided to just slide, butt-side down. Again there were chains and ladders. It was like some stupid game. Chains and Ladders. My awkward backpack, not designed for hiking, hindered me, so I had to remove it and toss it down to Zuza, already several paces ahead of me. I was weak from hunger. Somehow I was under the impression there would be a place to stop for food along the way. Overhead, a rescue helicopter buzzed and soon lowered itself down into the woods. Then it rose back up a few minutes later. We could see someone in a stretcher, dangling below the chopper. No way to tell if the person was living or dead. If I didn’t get the hell off this mountain soon, I was gonna be dead, too—either from hunger or from falling over a cliff. I peered over the edge at one point: a sharp drop to a parking lot about 500 meters below. That’s half a kilometer. Yikes!
Don't worry! It's just about half a kilometer--straight down!
I was feeling dizzy watching the helicopter, and all I wanted to do was muster all the last bits of energy I had left inside me and jump up and down and wave my arms like a wildman for that helicopter to see me and come and pluck me off this damn mountain.
Initially, the hike we had planned for tomorrow would be a tougher one, to Veľky Rozsutec. When Zuza pointed out that mountain in the distance, I gave it the middle finger. The hell with that! I’m not doing another grueling climb after this one! I’m not hiking for any gold medal nor for any adrenalin rush. People were passing us coming up, some our age, and in tennis shoes! There are jokes about Czechs hiking in their sandals. I didn’t see any of "those" hikers. We saw a family with about three small kids. Small kids are doing this hike??! I realized I needed more training for this sort of thing.
I was glad to see the road below. At least if I fell now, there’s a chance I’d just land on my head and knock myself out. The parking lot and road to Terchova got closer and closer, and at last, after stopping to give directions to a Polish family, we were back on level 'terra firma'.
Looking back up to Sokolie Mountain
All in all, it was a pretty amazing hike. I think we ought to have brought more food, although I think I was not prepared for this. Needless to say, Sokolie was a game-changer. We decided, while we were walking along the road the half kilometer to Terchova, that tomorrow we’d do something easier. Then Wednesday would be another “tough” day, then we’d have another “easy” day, and so on.
There were more Poles at the bus stop in Terchova. We waited 25 minutes for the bus back to Stefanova. I enjoyed listening to the Poles chattering back and forth, pleased I was able to understand more of it than Slovak. Ten minutes after we got on the bus, we got off just a short walk below the pension. We showered, relaxed, although, despite the murderous descent, I had a good feeling of relaxation and positive energy.