cultural experiences
Hiking Frog Pond
T
Alex Dunn - MAK 17
his little tale begins on a Thursday evening. Sam Cicero and I found our way to the assembly point
for the Kumanovo Hiking Club and caught a bus to the small town of Zhabljak, a part of Durmitor National Park in Montenegro. Along the way we took a glorious morning pauza while passing
through the Tara River Gorge -- the deepest river canyon in Europe. The sun was cresting the eastern
wall of the gorge while the morning birds sang and danced in the light breeze. It was a brilliant welcome
to a beautiful country after a long and stuffy overnight bus ride.
Nary an hour later, we pulled into the car-camp where we would be staying for the weekend. The owner
greeted us with normal, yet always refreshing Balkan hospitality. With rakija in our bellies, and little else to
do for the day (we arrived a day prior to the departure of the hike), we set up our tent and went for a walk
in the woods. Among the many treasures we found there were some old abandoned cabins presumably
rented out to tourists in years past, and more recently used as the setting for every horror movie you’ve
ever seen. We also tramped around a marshy frog pond, found a pizza restaurant (in town), and visited
the astoundingly beautiful Crno Jezero -- a place worthy of your google search any day.
As we began to make the climb back to our camp, which lay over a forested ridge to the south of the lake,
things began to look a little less familiar than one would hope. Somewhere we had taken a wrong turn
and found ourselves far from anywhere. A series of bad decisions later, we finally made a good decision
that brought us back onto the return path. We arrived back at camp just in time to catch the setting of the
sun, before turning in for the night.
The next day began with an early start, as seemingly all good days do. We were on the bus at six and, after a short delay, took our twenty-minute ride to the trailhead and got started. Our group was about thirty,
with people of all ages and hiking abilities. The trail itself was fairly easy at some points, while at others
became quite demanding. Though fortunately there were never any points where any kind of technical
mountain climbing skills became necessary.
We hiked westward along a ridge north of the black lake towards a handful of intimidating, still-snowy
peaks. The initial climb was steep,
though covered by the shade
of the forest. The morning sun
had not yet warmed the air and
a cool breeze kept us refreshed.
We reached the tree line after
only forty-five minutes, where we
took our first break. After that we
continued westward and upward,
over rocks and dirt, through the
first narrow valley between peaks
and into a broader, greener valley
populated by a pair of lonely farmers, a couple dozen sheep, and
four horses.
Here we took another break, then
continued in a north-westerly
direction after stopping at the only
mountain lake we would find to
refill water supplies. Two steep
ascents later we got our first
glimpses of the surrounding countryside, having cleared the confines of the lower valleys. Near the base of the peak that was our ultimate
goal, we came across a deep, broad cave. The bottom of the cave was covered with half-melted, dirty
snow and ice. As we took a break for lunch, some of the more intrepid among us took hold of a length of
12 – Pauza Magazine