Chopok - Ďumbier, Oct 8th 2005
All that began with, that time really unexpected, phone-call from Krtko. Two days before the date above,
he made me know that we were to say goodbye to the summer half of the hiking season once more and that I was the last one to be informed,
when every item was clear and sure enough.
The state at 9.00 pm one day before:
ME: Who´s gonna take the car?
KRTKO: No one! What about you?
ME: I don´t know, I´ll try.
The state at 7.00 am, the day of action: like the swallows we met concordantly with three cars.
One had driven somewhere from exotic countries where people have that softly strange accent. They were Peter The Grandfather and Robo Tarzan from Šahy.
The other had arrived even from the state with, immodestly uttered, a modest denomination Blava and Braňo The Daddy and Nika The Daughter in it. Well, and Zvolen
citizens Krtko The Cogitative, Dudo The Stride, Joseph The Fit and me, Miro The Writing.
Endless minutes of bla-bla-bla and those ensuing of ha-ha-ha, a sparing refreshment standing on one leg, cramming into the cars and go in the way of Low Tatras,
Srdiečko Hotel.
After reaching the spot and parking our cars two kinds of action mixed: getting ready and whetting of our vocal chords through drinking a fifty-point
liquor. Towards The Stony chalet we struck out along the classic hiking track with unusual views: a crowd of Gipsies digging in a cable, an analogy of our alpine
rambling. Near Kosodrevina Hotel, me and Dudo broke away because of the solicitude of not to pester our fellows by the stink of our feet. It resulted in a 45 mins
lead over, namely getting frozen to the bones. The chalet was crowded by fools of our sort which surprised us at that date.
There was only one charecter to serve the people, so the queuing caused more than a slight pleasure. Our rectum cavities having been blown through, the breathing was pretty effortless. We deflected to
the east along a short byway over boulders as big as elephants. Here it was that Peter The Grandfather almost deprived himself of his own nail - what a strange
chap! Hard to say what was occurring behind us, because we were running ahead up to the half of the journey to Ďumbier, so the two cracks again - me and Dudo.
We found a lee below the north cornice and were waiting for the others. It could have been so about 3.00 pm and we were enjoying those terrific vistas and
comparing them to last ones.
Even our hometown could be seen from there. Hush! don´t say it to anyone, but we descended along the forbidden track, you know ,
the one stabilized by coconut fibres.
The stay at Štefánička chalet was entrancing one: first, we were waiting for vacancies for 15 mins, then we sat down, undressed, exchanged our smiles with a
comment "...what a nice warmth..." and on a sudden, we stood up and struck out.
Robo caught us at ease on the way down the Trangoška valley which couldn´t
have been said about The Grandfather, who was fully dead-beat in a pizzeria we were eating in, afterwards. He looked like the Death´s client.
As usual, we arrived at Zvolen at twilight, so about 19 hours of that day had passed away. Where we´d got together at dawn we separated then like oil stains
do on the sea surface. Anew, thanks mountains for...