Top of the Mountain

Top of the Mountain

This past weekend I made a mistake. I’ve made similar mistakes in the past. Two similar mistakes in the last few weeks. The mistake I made was thinking that I was young. I am not young but for some reason I have to prove that to myself over and over again. I proved it to myself convincingly last Sunday.

As you may have noticed from some of the pictures I’ve included the area around Rasnov is mountainous. The valley is flat but the mountains are steep. I overheard a few of the other volunteers talking of a Sunday hike through the mountains and I invited myself. I know that I am not in great shape but I always thought that my legs would carry me about anywhere. So with a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of water I headed off to the hills beyond Zarnesti.

The first portion of the trail we traveled wasn’t too bad. It was a little muddy and it had a lot of switchbacks but nothing extraordinarily tough. I did fall behind my five other companions though, but I knew they’d wait for me. After about an hour of trekking I emerged from the wooded trail into a high meadow filled with soft grass and wildflowers. The view was spectacular with perpendicular mountains continuing above us and wooded hillsides and valleys below. At that point we must have been approximately 4500 feet up from a base of perhaps 2000 feet. My companions had waited for me and soon after my arrival we started the second leg. After crossing the sheep meadow we began an ascent directly up the rest of the mountain.

Directly up. No switchbacks. From one rock up to the next rock. The trees covered the mountainside so I used one hand to hold a tree branch and the other to balance with my walking stick. I quickly fell behind the troop again. At one point my cell phone rang and it was the crew leader asking what happened to me. I said that I was coming. She asked how far up the mountain I had to go. I told her, I had no idea, I couldn’t tell, the mountain just kept going and going.

Finally, totally winded and spent, I emerged from the into a small rocky outcrop and with a large stone cross anchored into the rock. The cross symbolized all the other idiots that had died trying to climb this mountain. The view, I suspect, was even more tremendous than the previous one. I’m afraid of heights and was afraid to take a long look. I was too tired even to pull out my camera and take pictures. The map indicated that we now were at an elevation of 6200 feet. Not that high compared to Colorado, but we started out at a lower elevation and from the top to the north was a sheer drop back down to the same elevation.

After lunch, the decent of the circuit started out very interestingly. We walked along a knife edged top, perhaps three or four feet across and gradually trending downward, until we had to use handholds stuck into the mountain side to inch our way down. After going down the hand holds – which weren’t too bad because my hands and arms were the only parts of me that we’re exhausted – the trail fell away steeply through a narrow rock crevasse that continued forever. This time one of the crew hung back with me to make sure there was no accident. The way down was much more tricky and dangerous for sprains or broken bones than the way up and I was glad for his company. A light rain had begun to fall and the rocks were that much more treacherous. Finally, after what seemed like eternity we walked out of the narrow crack in the rocks into a pasture.

Below us, about a mile away, was a road. I wasn’t sure that I could walk that much farther, but there was no choice. Even though the way was now easy each step was painful. I felt bad about holding up my companion, but when we finally did make the roadway a car drove up, saw my distress and gave us a ride the 16 kilometers back to Rasnov.

When I limped through the gate to the casa, Nancy laughed and asked if I didn’t want to go for an evening walk around town.

It’s now Wednesday and I’ve recovered. Matter of fact the crew is talking of going this weekend for a two day hike up some really tough trails. I don’t think I’ll go.