This report is about the tour: Wild Gorgany
Report on the trip to the Carpathians “Wild Gorgans” 06.09-11.09 2009.
There, at the edge of the earth, the wind howls in the stone crevices, it rustles in the junipers, it knocks you off your feet. It PROBABLY makes your eyes water and it PAINS you to look into the distance, you NEED to return to the camp, so that LATER, on the train or in the car, you understand that there, there, in the distant devilish forest, you feel good. You are consumed by longing for the people who have walked this road with you.
The village of Zelenoe - roads, outskirts, sheaves of hay, power lines, more houses with satellite television dishes. Bridges are also man-made, made of concrete and reinforcement.
Some other horses, with horseshoes and saddles. But a little further upstream, sometimes you only see a lonely hut, like in the cartoon “At the End of the Earth”
You find yourself in a valley of “alpine meadows”, trimmed like the best football fields in the world
And blackberries... You burst them into handfuls, you try to collect them into a burdock leaf without getting out of the thorny bushes
The forest becomes inhospitable. Dry branches try to dig in and tear out a piece of your jacket. The moss is deep and soft like a mattress. Black holes gape between them - either holes, or dens... The stones move away from under your feet... “You were not invited here, take care of your eyes,” say the local trees. You have to wade through, but it’s SO nice to break free from their embrace and enjoy the path in the clearing
At the top and on the slopes there are fields of stones, as if some invisible giant had “lightly” sprinkled the tops with his giant salt.
Ripna - you look and can’t get enough of the blue distant peaks. Light brown grasses stretch around, they are so soft, you want to bury your nose and fall asleep. Fall asleep and see color short films in your dreams. The sky is still light enough for you to absorb all the shades of green, yellow, and blue. And then, like a beam from a cosmic searchlight, a column of light breaks through, and you feel so good from this last timid warmth
Stones overgrown with lichen are interspersed with lingonberries and blueberries. The trail is a very conventional name for the road along which you walk along the ridge, gradually climbing up. Lingonberry plantations - the joy of gluttony overflows from such vast pastures.
And there, on a rocky peak, you stand on a huge ribbed boulder and the feeling of your insignificance fights with the selfish and arrogant “I did it.” Insignificance in front of NATURE, which created this... These views are breathtaking.
There, at the edge of the earth, the wind howls in the stone crevices, it rustles in the junipers, it knocks you off your feet. It PROBABLY makes your eyes water and it PAINS you to look into the distance, you NEED to return to the camp, so that LATER, on the train or in the car, you understand that there, there, in the distant devilish forest, you feel good. You are consumed by longing for the people who have walked this road with you.
You frankly feel bad and lonely in your hometown, you don’t understand all these people on the subway, you are surprised by the soft chairs in restaurants, you have a different attitude towards hot water and the presence of a bathroom in your apartment, you sleep on a pillow, and not on a folded fleece or jacket. An acute sense of the refinement of life covers you. You have lost a piece of your heart - there, in the moss, in the forests, in the smells, in the ringing air. You gave a little bit of yourself to your group, you remember the guide as the main person in the world.
.
Sipina Olga. Moscow 2009.