Ďumbier, december 30,2004
Ďumbiéééér! Wow, wow, wow! Such a kind of drive hadn´t been there for quite a long time.
For the whole of three days we thought we would go in three: me, Miro The Writing, Krtkóóó and Joseph The Western.
Just a bit later, we got a wind of another band planning exactly the same action. A band of even more experienced hikers.
It all was certainly going to be a cracker.
It was a penultimate day of 2004 and we set out as usual long before dawn. Two crowds, which ought to have met at the Low Tatras´ foothills
and finished the rest of the trip together. The first, we mentioned above, and the second - Vlado The Experienced,
Julo The Barbate and Jožo The Unheard Of. We of the first group by train,
they, the other one by car.
The first encounter occured in a little town of Underbirch. Where else than in that local bus station doggery.
By the way, pop off you fu... niffy tail, to whom my correct using of the second person as the familiar form of address didn´t appeal.
My dear gal, I was polite towards you, but if you mind being on first name terms with somebody, this world is not worthy of you!
The band, let´s name it The second, drove us up. There we parked the car, stuck our fat lazy arses out of it and got ready for about
three and a half hour march.
The weather looked nice and so did the first half of our hike, namely Trangoška valley.
I was given the responsibility for the camera, so the only thing I was expected was to trot ahead or behind or around and snap and
shoot and snap and...(do not overlook in our PG). So about ten minutes after me Vlado and Krtko made Štefánik´s chalet.
Everything about was smashing - so white and icy, almost incredible, when one remembered that no more than three hours ago there´d been
just the fucking-coloured greasy mud throughout your vicinity. Well, that´s just the one of number of advantages of mountain hiking.
You, who haven´t known it, spare a thought for it!
I´ll bet you haven´t experienced a faux pas like this: Jožo,
alias a manager of Kovačova spa, produced a flask out of somewhere with the intent of sharing its content. As I was taking in the
first swig of it all my body twitched. "Pooh! It tastes like pure water!" I shouted. E´en before Jožko managed to
boast that it´d been his wife, who´d fitted him out. Well, different strokes for different folks. By the way, Hello to you Zuna
and just the best of luck in the mountains. From the chalet, it was some 250 altitudinal metres to the summit.
Both the nice weather and our elation were pointing that we would admittedly piss ourselves with joy. And so it was, we´d been pissing
for 20 minutes at least, until we started down. Of course, some birds flew away from the top (it´s a Slovak phrase for taking photos).
Mainly, towards The High Tatras, but look through the gallery pictures - ones of those, which imprint onto your
mind like a candent fire hook does on the skin.
We didn´t halt again at the chalet on our countermarch. Why? Try to ask Vlado.
Personally I think he needed to shit forthwith, but why he didn´t do that at the chalet I haven´t comprehended so far. So, we dashed
down like insane except for Joseph The Western, whose knees were striking and Krtko caressing JTW´s
knees. Honour to both the heroes! Whole crowds of people were scuding up, who intended to celebrate the last 2004´s day maybe as well
as the initial one of 2005.
Right before the departure Julo pissed Vlado off, because they hadn´t
given Vlado something that they then gave Julo. I think a kind of.... well, that´s beyond my lexis.
Back, we doddered by their car. I was asleep, Krtko was sitting before me, Joseph beside him and I
guess we had a driver, too. It was the same day, only a little later, and we were all at home, in the shower baths, in our beds, alive and healthy.