43.10 Bulgaria: Pamporovo Ski Resort. Three Mountains Viewpoint with meaningful Perspective.

We've observed Snezhanka Tower, perched at the peak, from at least 8 different places, including our apartment and as far away as fifteen miles or so.




Perspective is a wonderful concept. It applies in many different contexts. Today, we gained physical perspective as we hiked to a viewpoint some 1,300 feet above our commencement, from the apartment, to the Three Mountains view. Actually, it really is ranges rather than single mountains. From the viewpoint, we saw the local Rhodopes close to us, relatively speaking, although we were actually on one of the peaks forming part of that range—Snezhanka. The other two ranges in the distance, recently snow-covered, are Rila and Perin. It was a wow. What was particularly special is that we had stood on at least four of the peaks a couple of weeks back and could now gain perspective of how the mountain system fits together. Add in the fact that having climbed 3,300 feet each for Vihren and Kutelo, it made us feel really good to see them again, albeit from a new position.

It's very difficult to explain the feeling that one derives each time we return from a peak. Suffice to say, without applying too much science to the equation, we find, at least until the day following, one feels on a high after most reasonably challenging hikes. It's a satisfying feeling but fortunately dissipates quickly, pushing a person to seek and reach the next peak or challenge to try to maintain the upbeat feeling.

Within the hiking experience, there are a number of spinoffs, a few being: seeing different lands, people, facing the unknown, reaching the trailhead with the many obstacles presented, observing and dealing with the animals and birds, understanding the natural phenomena including the terrain, weather and other risks, sometimes the history of the region and country. Of course, there is the challenge of the hike/climb itself. And most important of all, is testing oneself against the elements; perhaps even greater, the internal test, dealing with the negative part of self.



The Rila Mountains, probably four hours by car, ten minutes by plane. The view is from Snezhanka Peak in the Rhodopes.




One of our favorite places, of anywhere, Pirin Mountains. Notice the 2 similar peaks, Vihren and Kutelo, and saddle, with the ridge to the right of the latter.




A few weeks ago, Jen reached the peak of Vihren (above picture, left peak). Behind her is Kutelo Peak and ridge.





Jen stands on peak of Kutelo. A week after the hike to Vihren, the snow had melted.... 😀. Apparently, in our absence, it has returned.




Jen begins the final climb of Kutelo. Vihren is behind with the saddle between. This last part is about 30-40 minutes.




A last look at the spectacular Kutelo ridge.





At the viewpoint, we look at Vihren and Kutelo and smile. ("Did I mention how much I love those two?")




On the way to Peak Orpheus, above town of Gela, we notice the tower again.




After forty minutes from our apartment and up 2 ski slopes, still a long way to go-3 more ski slopes. We thought we only had to reach the top of this slope. Ha! It's a good lesson in deceptive vision, Gary S.




On our return, through the village ahead and down to the tree-enclosed area on the left.




One more of what we consider a spectacular range, Pirin.



Cheers,


Jenni and Jeffrey



From our apartment. For the record, we are not living in those trees although one of us has been 'threatened' with it.




Unbeknown to me, Jen decides to hitch through the south-western exit of Bulgaria and slip in(to) Greece. (The sign has to be even older than Jen—it's not metric.)

Second Cover Page

From on high, we take a peek into the town of Smolyan, one of the larger regions of the middle Rhodopes.





When we came across this set of 'via ferrata', I got excited and my charming wife read me the 'riot act'. After a frank and fruitful discussion which included a number of issues including her asking for the car keys, we reached an agreement and I was permitted to climb to the top of the first of 2 sections. We returned a few days later and I had her blessing for the full climb and return. She stated she would not watch but wanted to take photographs. It had me fooled but at that stage all I wanted to do was climb, whether she watched or took photographs or neither. Terrific. After I returned, I was walking up toward a viewpoint and something made me turn. There she was, beginning a climb on the rungs. What happened to all the protesting of the previous week?





Ascending somewhere in a beautiful land, Iceland.




Summer in Iceland. We did not think to pack skis. 'But' he managed as we return from Mount Sulur.

43.09 Bulgaria: The land, people, mountains and South African music. Hmm!

Slovakia: High Tatras.



We thought we'd put a video together of a selection of photographs from a number of hikes. We've fallen behind, probably lost forever, earlier hikes totaling some twenty-two for which no blog has been completed. I suppose thinking about doing one does not count. It wasn't that long ago when we were relatively efficient.

We'd like to pay tribute to Brian Murray, a good friend, who is a top musician. He has allowed us to use one of his compositions as background music for the video. Tom Jones, someone whom we favor, offered us one of his songs. It was embarrassing, faced with these two talents and having to decide, especially as we like the Welsh. Thinking about it, Brian has Scottish blood in him. In the end, the decision was easy—we love Brian's music even more than we love him. Thank you, Young Murray.

Life produces some odd occurrences. We mentioned that dogs join us to go on hikes in Bulgaria. This happens frequently. They wait at various points, see us coming, wag their tails and head out onto the trail. Last week, Jenni was making our breakfast for the slopes and I saw her producing extra—some sandwiches. She said it was food for the dogs. Nice idea.

'Why are you spreading on jam,' I asked.

"The bread's stale so I want to give the fellas a break." What do I know. I might have had a different reaction had she cut off the crusts.

We arrived at Perelik Hut and sat down in a cold wind, for brunch. I was particularly hungry and asked whether she still had the dog food from the previous week. Maybe it was still 'stale' and she threw it out as on the days before, we had not had canine company. Man, that jam made all the difference. You gotta love dog food sometimes. I kept a piece in case anyone joined us, human or animal, and sure enough, a dog arrived for a walk from out of a forest. We were able to give him a treat. I can't say I was happy to see my dog food disappear. The jam idea turned out pretty well for one of us.

It appears the Russians continue to view our blogs at a higher rate than any other nation. It's appropriate then that we received a terrific email from Barry Jahn, of Oregon, not Moscow. We quote, "Especially enjoy the stories behind the pics. Am thankful you were kind enough to publish them in English ... now that you're so fluent in Cyrillic."  Funny guy! Da!

Най-добре дошли сте, Бари. (You are most welcome, Barry)


One last point before we hit the play button. After a particularly long hike today, close on 16 miles (which is ridiculous, Jenni), I was in the shower and struggling with the small bars of soap. They kept falling through the holder. These days, the soap dishes are of metal strips, allowing the excess water and moisture to drip through and down to the floor. This is a smart concept as it is more hygienic and neater than dishes. However, as you know, soap is slippery and at times difficult to hold. By placing it on these metal strips, there is propensity to constantly fall through. Our backs, especially after a hike, are not coping that well. I'm spending a large portion of shower time chasing after pieces of soap on the cubicle floor while my back protests vigorously. This time wasting causes the hot water to diminish and soon turn cold. Anyone who has a solution, should launch it and make a success, literally, clean up.



Red Rocks climb, probably the best and most challenging in the Rhodopes, thus far.




Slovakia: Low Tatras, Peak of Chopok. (The tired, lazy and aging quickly.)




Via ferrata, back to complete the full climb and return, after Jen accedes...a very special occasion. This section is a switch to another set of rungs, a little 'nippy' but superb.




A tough climb; Jen has a great day.




Closing in on the top, an emotional moment.

CLICK ON TEXT BELOW for VIDEO.

Brian Murray sings in Bulgaria (English version). For video of pictures and music, click HERE and then 'click' again on bottom right icon for full screen mode.

Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey

43.08 Bulgaria: Out and About in the Rhodope Mountains, remote and essential to experience...blog sometimes light, on other occasions, serious.

In the most mountainous region in Bulgaria, crossing into Greece, sits the Rhodope Mountain range. It's not the highest but it brings about a tranquility to the region, to those who live here and others who visit. Whereas the mountains of Pirin and Rila are higher, tougher and harsher (though fantastic), these are lesser icons. Many small towns and villages dot the landscape. It is not easy to reach these towns—a person does not enter a freeway and speed toward the destination. Rather, one negotiates the narrow roads, elements, local drivers, weather and then arrives and chooses a place to stay for a while. The idea is not to flit in-and-out. Far more intelligent, time allowing, to select a well-positioned town and use it as a base to explore this unique region during the day. Night-life is unknown to us—we're too tired by then. Weather permitting, there are great hikes, sights, historic markers and many other places to visit. (Continues at end...)



'Okay, Jen, enough groveling. You're forgiven.'





We came across this group of women after returning from a long hike (us not them). We could not help but overhear the discussion. The woman on the left was lamenting how she had shorted Microsoft stock the day before the company was awarded a military contract. I told her about our holdings and, at least, that brought her a little comfort. With winter fast approaching, piles of timber fill backyards, sidewalks, gardens and any open space. We notice piles of the cut down trees on some of the roads, too. The woman on the right, tells us she hates the cold but is praying for a very bitter winter. She is long timber holdings. The woman, second from the left, holds the newspaper in a dejected fashion—she learned she failed to qualify for the Bulgarian 100 meters hurdle team. The eldest of the group recently retired so we don't know much about her.

Thank you for allowing us to take the photograph.



Each hike became centered on the proximity to a coffee vending machine from which we mostly drank mountain lemon tea. At this location, we met the operator and had a wonderful chat although it took place via the translator on his phone. Two days later, we returned to the town of Yagodina for another hike and lo and behold, our friend was at the machine. It was a good feeling seeing him again and of course, the recent familiarity brought a special smile of recognition. As to the outstretched arm: I'm not telling him where he should go; rather, I'm asking him what town lies on the other side of the mountain. By the way, his dexterity (orange guy) at the vending machine has become extraordinary not to mention, as Barry Jahn said the other day, his mastery of Cyrillic.





I was feeling a little down and when this goat showed me his...well, I was rather offended. I know Jenni was trying to placate me when she said that it was a typical goat salute (note the position of the leg). I did feel a little better...but not much.




Jen developed a split-personality at Rila Lakes. Two for the marriage of one.




Three of us on Kutelo Peak in Bulgaria, all with US passports. (Contrasting Pirin Peaks with Rhodope). The guy standing with Jenni is an American diplomat stationed in Kosovo. We returned from about halfway down together with him. An interesting time. I loved his diplomatic plates on the car. Apparently, they are not for sale.




On our final visit to Trigrad (of this trip), I invited Jenni to share a meal, break bread; it was a special occasion. We do it about 5 times a week and then we took tea at the hotel, one of hiking's treats. On the second occasion, we spoke to Emil, the proprietor who was also running for political office. His aim is to keep development from the region. Looks like the plan is working well—couldn't find a chair and table for brunch.




Two days before, we walked from Yagodina to Trigrad and return, came over the mountain and through the forest and lo and behold...




It's traditional in this part of the world for teddy bears to take a picnic in a scary forest just before hibernation. I sent Jen ahead while I bravely kept watch for any bears sneaking up upon her. It was a little frightening but I kept a stiff upper-lip and all that. (Forest above village of Gela).




Phew! Safe. Jen about to exit from the forest intact and is greeted by bright sunshine, first in five days. We came across a fortress dating back to 11th century BCE—we felt quite sprightly, for a change.




'You asking me? Oh, I see. You're right. It does not point to a vending machine. Better we find another hike.'




'So what's all the studying about? We're not lost...yet.' On the way to Chairite lakes.




'You called, Madam. One hot (almost) mountain tea fresh from the machine coming up.'




"Jen? I think I forgot to use the parking brake. It could be our car rolling down the gorge...yikes!"




The communist era has left an indelible mark on the people and the infrastructure...unfortunately. Nevertheless, for us, there is an enchantment which one can find by scratching below the surface. Many old people struggle to move about but they do and it's admirable. People walk up the steep roads and sidewalks using supports and accomplish it. Customs stay with people, not necessarily passed onto successive generations. Old gentlemen walk or sit on the side of the road dressed in ties and with jackets, their faces portraying a history of hardship. It's easy to say one is projecting what one knows or perceives of history. However, we beg to differ. We greet these people and when we look into their eyes and faces, we see more than the superficiality of hardness of the skin. There's a sadness, a look of suffering, if you will.

It's been a privilege to experience life in Eastern Europe over the last year because the tumultuous years began before our birth but we witnessed from afar the subsequent developments. One could say this historic period, beginning from the Sixties' (for us), was contemporaneous. Expressed differently, we have lived through this period, observed, listened and now have seen much more up close without having had to experience the suffering personally. It makes one think of humanity in another dimension. Europe was, for many centuries, the center of the world, a cradle of modern civilization. Much of what exists today, the foundation, emanated from this continent. Perhaps then, it's not surprising how much cruelty and suffering has occurred in the countries forming this continent and then spread to other parts of the world. In closing—I find it hard to resist a tough comment—should we not have come across the many good souls (bless them all) from all over the world that we have met throughout our lives, one could easily question why one would wish to live in such a hostile and cruel world, lack of options notwithstanding.

The more we travel, the more of the outlying districts we visit and that's what we do mostly, the more we realize what a fortunate generation we are and more importantly, what our parents did in guiding us. To observe old people, both genders, pushing wheelbarrows along streets, chopping wood and sweeping sidewalks and roads is a sight to make a younger person feel embarrassed. (We exclude the poverty we have witnessed throughout our travels). A while ago we wrote about material comforts and the correlation to being soft. We see much of the practical application of the concept in reverse. While we wish nobody hardship, we do have a difficulty in understanding the comment we hear so often from people who have not experienced tough economic times: "I want my children to have more than I did." Why? One should be cautious for what one wishes.


Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey


One last pair of photographs to reveal the shocking truth about Jenni B. Those who know her believe she is a gentle woman, a little bashful. She would never be vindictive or aggressive. Perhaps, that's a myth as breaking news reveals another side of this lovely woman. Pictures don't lie!


The faces of innocence, both of them, before Jenni gives a command to the dog. A clue might be the curling smile which lowered my defenses.




The poor, innocent bystander under attack. I ask you...

43.07 Bulgaria, Devin: Grebenets Peak, at last-we found a trail (sort of).

Target: Mount Grebenets (left), viewed from our balcony as it towers above the town of Devin.




Grebenets at rear, taken from where we parked our car and may I add, 'a lovely shot of a certain hiker'.



Whenever we enter a new town, or old town for that matter or place we've been before or never seen, our eyes focus on any distinctive mountains surrounding the town or city. We suppose it's not surprising but nevertheless, it had to be said. Besides, a person is always looking for words to fill in-and-up a blog. After a tough drive from Sapareva Banya, we entered the town with the unusual name of Devin. Almost an English word, maybe it is, although an 'o' would be necessary rather than an 'i'. (What an educational blog!) The first attraction to grab our eyes was Grebenets, a mountain we did not know of or had expected to see. Subsequently, we researched it and after 5 days came up with information, mainly from a map purchased that proved almost worthless. We approached people on the street of the town at random and asked our usual initial question, "Do you speak English?" I think we have used that sentence more than any other. Maybe we should try: 'Do you come here often,' as an opener? You can detect we got quite desperate.



As good as we could get in a bright-light environment. The weather for the last fifteen days has been outstanding. Below, is the town of Devin as seen from the peak. It forms a 4-leaf clover setting—that's the local opinion.




'Thanks for joining us,' Jen piped up,'I believe the internet connections are pretty good up here.'




Eventually, a young man gave us an indication which got us on the right road but not to the correct place. We were seeking 'Two Bridges'. In fact, at that stage we would have settled for a single bridge. In our naivete, we expected some semblance to bridges, rock formations or at least, something. On the Sunday we attempted to find the commencement point, we noticed a rough trail but continued walking up the mountain road to where we had been guided previously. We are invariably tempted to take opportunities when we see a sort of path-beginning but this time, acted correctly or conservatively, and held back on impulsive behavior. Who says old people can't mature? Lo and behold, that turned out to be the correct path and so we returned from about a kilometer beyond after meeting a walker and his dog who guided us correctly.

Previously, after much research on the internet, canvassing the locals, pulling our hair and looking up at the peak from all angles, thinking some bad thoughts about the mountain, we were on our way. Our first and last interesting incidents on the hike were hearing a bear growl. We looked deeply into the forest but could not find the animal. Instead, we continued to enjoy the magnificent autumn foliage. As an aside, this led to a disagreement, perhaps an argument, then a fight which culminated in Jenni pouring water down my back, on the peak. What could have caused such an incident? Surely, I was not that rude or obnoxious. On second thoughts...



Making our way through a forest, beautiful though. We are on the opposite side of the mountain.




Cut him some slack, especially when you read what he had to endure.



I particularly love autumn, its colors and contrasts that abound throughout the forests, particularly viewed from height. The cooler weather, the fact that most people have returned to the cities and a host of other reasons further enhances the season. Jenni also favors such scenes and period but perhaps, less than me. She mentioned that our pictures are nice but they become boring because after all, they are shots of trees, shrubs and other flora. I had the decency not to mention 'that the pictures I take of her are probably just as boring and are a lot less colorful'. Such is my power of restraint. My modesty is slipping a little, I detect.

I muttered a few times while we were walking through the forest on a rather rough and tough trail. In fact, there was no formal trail. I hoped she would not mind me stopping a few times to take some boring pictures of what I thought were magnificent surroundings. When we reached the peak, a rather taxing effort although not too long, I think I used that line once too often—the boring scenery. For Jenni to pour water down my back, cold at that, shows how 'angry' she was. She does not behave like that—certainly hasn't in the last fifty years. Of course, now I have a dilemma. Do I withhold all these delightful, boring pictures or display some?



After we break the tree line, we see the actual peak is ahead and covered in trees. We thought we had arrived already.




The telephoto is amazing. From the top, it picks up the reflections on the river or canal.




Another of those boring pictures (see text). I suppose it depends which or who is the main subject. We are back on a mountain road as we search for our car having left the forest.



The trail was more akin to a goat or animal path than a typical track. In fact, I remarked this is what we term an 'honest' hike. It reminds a person of more natural climbing and hiking on mountains—find your own way. At one stage, Jen pulled out her markers and she wrapped them around a few trees to help us on the return. It only takes one wrong turn without realizing it and a person could find oneself close to Greece or Turkey. I could not help thinking of being lost in a forest for years which made me recall Japanese soldiers who refused to surrender or did not know the war had been over for tens of years. Then I thought of what would have happened had Japan not lost the war. I would probably be using a Sony camera. Oops! I do have a Sony. Moral of the story. If you are going to lose a war, choose your victors as the British (post Boer War) or Americans.


and yet another set from the top.




Perhaps a clearer picture of Devin from the peak.



Returning to the unmarked trail, Jen refers to these as 'Hansel and Gretel' tracks. Years before, she thought we should mark difficult paths with 'M&M's. She reckoned it would be such an incentive to place them on the trails logically, thus making it easy to find on our way back. Think of the sweet treats earned as we collected the candy on our return. How could anyone get lost. The first time we needed to use them, none could be found in my bag.

"Don't tell me you ate them all, Jeffrey?"

'I didn't mean to but I thought I should.'

"Pray tell," she answered. When she gets fancy like that I anticipate trouble.

'Look at it this way,' I began. 'If we are prepared to use 'M&M's as trails markers to help us should we get lost, how much more effective will they be if I eat them ahead of the hike and therefore, not get lost at all.'

Hence, we now use these elasticized do-dahs and hike after Jen cools off. Works for me! Although cold water down my back may be cool for her, I beg to differ.


Cheers,

Jenni and Jeffrey


There's a certain satisfaction when you don't allow it to beat you...intimidate, okay but not defeat.


And just to show no ill feelings, thought another two boring pictures might do the trick.




'Ho-hum again. I know what you mean. She sure can get your goat.'