The High Rozsutec, dec 11, 2004
It all began, I can`t remember when precisely, but most likely by a typical up-in-the-air decision a few days beforehand.
At last, all the matter came out well and so we were sure enough, at about 23.00 o`clock, that our expedition would come into being.
The plan, at least the original one as could be seen further, was to walk the crest of The Fatra mountain from a village
actually called George Johnarray`s town to one of a bit greater size - Mathew.
So that`s how we found themselves, that fucking chill morning, at the worn-thin station of Zvolen, a town, which not all of us
come from, and then were leading by US, oh pardon, by PS train for Žilina. Well, there just another anguish or ordeal, if you
like - raw weather, mist, no people, but, despite... would you go back?! And then classic again - having found out a bus to GJ`s
town we drained or rather boozed several jugs of cool beer and tried a mouthful each from that Krtko`s cutthroat thing.
Wow, I should say "what a rožovka", but those dimwits, beyond the ocean, they simply can`t write well, because they always put
Whiskey on the bottle. Oh, I`ve almost forgotten! to mention that Krtko had totally new hiking boots. It encouraged all of us - we
felt like taking part in a profi expedition, you know! That`s always agreeable and fine when there are at least two from six feet
not shod in a sort of wellingtons or brogans.
Later on, some thoughts on the way to Vrátna like "Wow, can you remember? This is where we rode our bikes along some time ago!"
Some pictures taken or one to be exact, which I would name "Three mugs in the corner of a bus" and of course several MMS sent to the rest of the world, 4-5 numerically.
Finally, we reached George Johnarray´s patch (beat, district) with a shot - "Oh shit, SNOW!!!" - we didn´t even guess
then what the future held for us, scilicet, loads and loads of further snow. And not to forget - one midget story about
a tax collector on the bus deck, in a word - a ticket inspector. Naturally, we´d got no due tickets - what would they be for,
anyway? - people don´t nickname us "Bugger up-everything-you-can fellowship" without any cause! Perhaps, it´s unnecessary to utter
"fortunately", because the going through that isn´t worth mentioning - there isn´t the nickname of us,
"If -you´ve-already-fucked-it-up-settle-it!", without reason. So we were compelled to get out right at the gateway to Vrátna valley.
That darned, effing tax collector. God rest his soul.
And at about that point our real, factual expedition took off. First, on foot, up a part of Vrátna ravine called
Tiesňavy and then we got a lift by some tipsy provincials looking for a cottage, who spared us our fucking
dear time. They dropped us off and as we caught a sight of The Low "huge" Fatra our jaws went down up to the Y-fronts, at least,
my one did! Right in front of us The High Rozsutec, to the left The Low one and like a pad got stuck in the slit
The Midday Rocks in between them. A beautiful panorama , bright Sun, thereby being in high spirits and we´d already known
that there was nothing to spoil all that, but for maybe an another inspector! Ha-ha-ha.
As we were advancing up and up, all of sudden a pooch appeared before us, playing with its little bone, that´s like
it was! At that very moment the little brat put its bone aside and leapt to us to fawn over us
(who could have imagined then that it would last till the summit itself).
The journey upwards was nice, gorgeous after a time, then photogenic, the next minute tiring , shitty
at times, with much snow, maybe with far more than much and we shuffled that way until we got to views
of surroundings definitely worth uttering a word or two. Just imagine - the sun overhead, the sun below, the sun on
the right, the sun on the left, even at the back and what else than those monumental Tatras in the foreground. I was already
shitting myself - Apropos, I detected just later at home, that I actualy did. Artlessly, ones of the most wonderful
views, ever been cast before me, they were. After another three hours we made a close approach to the top and I´d like to accent
the "close". In a tick our eyes were rolling down the slope - oh god!!! two snowslides. It was the first time ever that we saw
a thing like that. In that very moment everything was decided - we wouldn´t go any farther!
We just had a quick look at the peak and soon were whirling the snow down the sidehill - by the way Medveď had been making
himself pretty clear, by whining and yowling, that he had hardly been sustaining all the conditions. Most likely the whining
he made, was because of the bloody frost and being thirsty - he even drank that darn chilly snow being set everywhere about us!
We had returned happily to George Johnarray´s town and after another half an hour of waiting for the bus Medveď wanted to impetrate
one half-fare ticket for himself - alas, the capitalism has been too short here, so we only could say our farewell through the rear
window. Oh goodness what a romance! He stared, we gazed, he was peeing, we were pissing, he will croak and as for us
another adventure is awaiting - so, if you wanna share show up !
On the homecoming there was a little sustenance alá Chrismas - wine, wine and again warmed wine - where else as in Slotatown.
Then one "below-average"-sized pizza and poof! a sixteen and a half hour journey home by a train branded "You´re dead before
striking home" (but that´s simply Slovak achievement!).
P.S.: Don´t delay and join us as soon as possible!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
krtko, dudo a miro
These lines as well as your thoughts while reading them should be dedicated to the remembrance of a living
legend from the family Canidae. For his courage, doggedness and an attempt of dulcifying moments of three rovers...
Long may Medveď live!