When the going gets tough...

"When the going gets tough, the tough get going.”
- Bob Brown

Path and snow pole. Pentax MX, Ektar 100, June 2023.

Diary, Day 7: Traverse of the Făgăraș.

“Some days, I wake up in the mountains and I think to myself: what on Earth am I doing here? I’m wet, I’m cold, I’m hungry, my body aches, why am I here? What’s the point of all this suffering when I could be completely comfortable back home in town without all this misery?

And then I remember a personal rule of mine when I’m in the mountains.

Make no decisions before breakfast.

Although we may feel miserable when we wake up at first and our outlook may appear grim indeed, I try not to let that worry me. I put on the billy, boil up a brew, drink a cup of coffee and have something to eat.

As I go through these routine motions, I always find that the will to live, to fight, to struggle returns to me and I find reason to continue. Almost always, it comes down to curiosity. It is about wanting to know what is over the next hill. If I wish to get to know this place, I must persevere and continue on my journey…

Unlikely pathways. Pentax MX, Ektar 100, June 2023.

It’s been fascinating being in mountains where the forces of erosion are much more active than what I’m used to in Tasmania. The Făgăraș are steep and often loose, especially at this time of year while the snow is still melting. Almost daily I hear rockfall and the evidence for them are visible on the snow slopes, with loose bits of dirt, rock scattered everywhere. These mountains are exfoliating their skin constantly, which of course adds to the exhilarating thrill of the mountaineer. Even the smallest bit of skin cell, a rock the size of an apple has the potential to kill or maim…

Steep country. Pentax MX, Ektar 100, June 2023.

A good expedition is like this, a stripping back of sorts. As the trip goes on, we get leaner, hungrier, more ready for business. All things external that are not immediately relevant are discarded. Our clothes get filthy, our bodies start to smell, we get dirt beneath our fingernails.

But beneath all this roughening up, there is a sense of clarity that we gain, and this comes from striving towards the goal of our quest. How far we are willing to push ourself speaks of our determination and commitment.”

Poor visibility. Pentax MX, Ektar 100, June 2023.

-A.S.

Speaking the truth

“He is isolated among his contemporaries by truth and by his art, but with this consolation in his pursuits: that they will draw all men sooner or later. For all men live by truth, and stand in need of expression.”
-R.W. Emerson

Snow pole on high point. Pentax MX, Delta 100, June 2023.

Refugio, ice axe, mountains. Pentax MX, Delta 100, June 2023.

Snow slope and debris. Pentax MX, Delta 100, June 2023.

Mt Lespezi. Pentax MX, Delta 100, June 2023.

Kindness

“Be kind, whenever possible.

It is always possible.”

-Dalai Lama

Spot the chamois. (Rupicapra rupicapra carpatica). Pentax MX, Delta 100. June 2023

Frozen glacial tarn. Pentax MX, Delta 100. June 2023

Hikers traversing snow slope near Negoiu. Pentax MX, Delta 100. June 2023

Prominent Camp. Pentax MX, Delta 100. June 2023

Făgăraș Skyline. Pentax MX, Delta 100. June 2023

Brown Bears

Transylvania is one of the last strongholds of the brown bear in Europe.

Misty days in the Făgăraș. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

Sliding down a snow slope, using the adze of the piolet as the break. I hear a noise. I stop and look up. About a hundred metres from me, high on top of an escarpment, 2300m above sea level, is a bear cub, running away. It stops, then looks at me. It has a big head, big ears.

’But where is mummy?’ I wonder.

Approaching the summit of Negoiu. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

It that moment, mamma bear pokes her head out from behind a big rock and looks straight at me. A fully grown brown bear. She probably weighs about 400kg.

Făgăraș skyline. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

A split second later, mamma bear and her cub both retreat.

Before I even have a chance of grabbing my camera, they disappear.

I don’t see them again.

That way. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

Presence

Chapter IV: Traverse of the Făgăraș

Snow filled glacial tarn. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

And so our chronological photographic essay continues. We are only up to day three of the traverse, and near the start of the second roll film.

Back toward the ridge. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

Mountains not only have presence, they demand presence.

Path of rockfalls on snow slope. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

The mountain was shedding its skin in the spring melt. The summit soared, calling the world to it.

Kicked steps on snow slope. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

The storm approaches, bringing electricity to the air. I stand on wet snow, holding a metal ice pick, approaching the summit ridge of the tallest, most prominent peak around. Mt Lespezi.

Down to the valley below. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

Sliding down a snow slope, using the adze of the piolet as the break. I hear a noise. I stop and look up. About a hundred metres from me, high on top of an escarpment, 2300m above sea level, is a bear cub, running away, then stopping to look at me. It has a big head, big ears.

’But where is mummy?’ I wonder.

It that moment, mamma bear pokes her head out from behind a big rock and looks straight at me. A fully grown brown bear. She probably weighs about 400kg.

A split second later, mamma bear and her cub both retreat.

Before I even have a chance of grabbing my camera, they disappear.

I don’t see them again.

Rising mist. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

Lightning strikes and thunder cracks the sky.

Connecting the dots

“For many hundred years, wild, remote places were often gathering spots for important meetings."
-Martin Shaw

Heading into the alpine zone. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

Early spring in the Făgăraș. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

Wild horses. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

Plummeting valley. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

The peaceful warrior

“True fearlessness is not the reduction of fear, but going beyond fear.”
- Chogyam Trungpa, Shambala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior.

Beneath the trees, above the trees. Pentax MX, Portra 160. June 2023.

“The essence of cowardice is not acknowledging the reality of fear.”

- Chogyam Trungpa, Shambala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior.

The smallest trees live up here. Pentax MX, Portra 160, June 2023.

“The ideal of warriorship is that the warrior should be sad and tender, and because of that, the warrior can be very brave as well.” - Chogyam Trungpa, Shambala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior.

A shepherd’s shelter and a flock of sheep. Pentax MX, Portra 160, June 2023.

“The way of cowardice is to embed ourselves in a cocoon, in which we perpetuate our habitual patterns. When we are constantly recreating our basic patterns of behaviour and thought we never have to leap into fresh air or onto fresh ground.” - Chogyam Trungpa, Shambala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior.

Shepherd, dogs, sheep. Pentax MX, Portra 160, June 2023.

“At some point, you have to leave home and embrace a larger world. This is the absolute prerequisite for being able to care for others.” - Chogyam Trungpa, Shambala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior.

Afternoon light, looking towards the valley. Pentax MX, Portra 160, June 2023.

Taking things in stride

When we first conceive an idea, we often fail to account for all the difficulties that its fruition will require.

Wouldn’t it be nice to renovate the house? Perhaps it’s time to find the leak in the roof? Or the time has truly come to find the hole where the mice have been getting into the pantry…

When we get our initial burst of inspiration, the end goal appears as a gleaming beacon of hope, the object of our desire. As we strike out on our quest, be it small or big, we rarely foresee the difficulties we are to encounter on our way.

Clearing on ridge, Făgăraș. Pentax MX, Kodak Portra 160, June 2023.

When I made my plans clear to my friends and family in Hungary that I intended to traverse the Făgăraș Mountains in Transylvania, their immediate response was concern and an attempt to sway me to find another way to spend my free time. My brother’s response was perhaps the most succinct and memorable.

’Bro, don’t go to Romania. Either the gypsies will steal all your stuff, or the bears will eat you.’

I refused to believe him.

Open deciduous forest. Făgăraș. Pentax MX, Kodak Portra 160, June 2023.

The more people I chatted to in Budapest in the lead up to my trip however, the more I heard about recent bear attacks in Transylvania. Apparently the population of brown bears have multiplied and a lot of the mountainous villages were experiencing regular rogue bears coming in for a visit, their main interest being sheep and other edibles. Some villages had implemented bear sirens, that would go off if someone sighted a roaming bear near the village, so then everyone would know to stay indoors or at least take caution.

After hearing these stories I did a quick google search for news articles on bear attacks in Transylvania. About two or three popped up from this year. There was one in particular about a shepherd trying to protect his animals from a bear with an axe and getting severely hurt in the process. The article didn’t list the injuries the bear sustained but it sounded like the bear had won the fight. I made a mental note to avoid a scenario where I was fighting a bear with an axe.

I told myself it would be fine. Besides, I really wanted to see a bear in the wild.

The opening of the view. Făgăraș. Pentax MX, Kodak Portra 160, June 2023.

The second immediate response of most people upon telling them of my intentions to traverse the Făgăraș was: ‘And you are going alone?’, complimented by a face that clearly stated that they thought that was a very bad idea.

It wasn’t that I wanted to go alone; it was simply that no one was available and keen to do the trip with me that I knew. So my choice was to do the trip alone, or not at all. When faced with that decision, the answer was clear. I would go alone.

Flowering wild garlic. Făgăraș. Pentax MX, Kodak Portra 160, June 2023.

‘The traverse is not recommended. There is too much snow.’

Music to my ears.

I was in the only hiking shop in Sibiu, Romania. The lady working there was trying to talk me out of doing the traverse. I told her I was doing the traverse and I was there to acquire the equipment I needed in order to get across the backbone of the range. If I needed an ice axe and crampons to do so, then so be it.

She called her husband and he showed up within half an hour and gave me all the beta. He said I would need an ice axe to do the traverse. I took his advice and borrowed one from him; a nice long straight piolet that reached just past my ankle bone when I held the head of it in in my hand. I could tell it was a well loved piece of equipment and he hesitated before lending it to me. I gave him my word that I would return it at the end of my trip. We shook hands and that was that.

With the piolet added to kit, I felt ready. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to use it to defend myself from a hungry brown bear.

The transition zone. Făgăraș. Pentax MX, Kodak Portra 160, June 2023.

Muntii Făgăraș- When things take longer than we expect

I first made plans to visit the Făgăraș in 2017. The fruition of certain plans can take a bit longer than we expect.

My first glimpse of the Făgăraș, through the window of the train.
Pentax MX, 50mm Portra 160, June 2023.

At the outset of a new undertaking, it is easy to underestimate the time that is required to complete the intended objective. Whether our aim is to walk across a mountain range, to fix a broken piece of equipment, or even something as simple as preparing a meal we haven’t cooked before; if there is an element of unknown in the process, there is a good chance that we will experience delays.

The forest had started to reclaim the train tracks. Pentax MX, 50mm Portra 160, June 2023.

Hungary lies in the Carpathian Basin in Central Europe. The Carpathians are the second longest mountain range in Europe and ring my country of birth with their protective arms. They run for a total length of two and a half thousand kilometres, and hug Hungary to the north, east and south, curling around like a giant horseshoe.

There are two sections that could be described as the crux of the mountain range, the Tatras in the north and the Făgăraș in the south. Both these ranges contain peaks over two and a half thousand metres tall. And while the Tatras contain the steepest mountains and are rich in mountaineering history, the Făgăraș in Romania contain country that is a lot more remote and wild. Not to mention that Transylvania is a stronghold for wolves, brown bears and lynx. And although vampires haven’t been sighted there in recent years, carrying the odd clove of garlic cannot possibly hurt.

The train station’s platform at Valea Fratelui looked as if no one has stepped on it for about a decade. Pentax MX, 50mm, Portra 160 April 2023.

I visit Europe about once every five years, to catch up with family. This year, it came time again to go back and to reconnect with my roots, culture, language and of course, to eat Hungarian food. And while I was there, I figured I would take a couple of weeks and do a solo trip to traverse the highest section of the Southern Carpathians, the Muntii Făgăraș.

My crossing of the Făgăraș began with the crossing of the Olt River on a railway bridge. This photo was taken while standing on the bridge.

Pentax MX, 50mm Portra 160, June 2023.

Historically, Transylvania was part of Hungary and so we have our own name for these mountains: ‘Fogarasi Havasok’, which translates to the ‘Snowy Fagaras’. I undertook my trip in mid June 2023, only a couple of weeks before mid summer. Although I didn’t know at the outset, these mountains would live up to their name.

The Snowy Făgăraș. Pentax MX, Kodak Pro 100, June 2023.

When we visit a place that is unknown to us, it is natural to encounter delays that are presented by obstacles we didn’t expect. It is good to expect the unexpected. Even then, we may end up being surprised.

Three times three lines

‘Poetry, in a general sense, may be defined to be ‘the expression of the imagination.’’ - P.B. Shelley

Morning turned the night

Invisible is the dark

Fog lifts in the light.

Turbulent torrents

Woken by thoughts in the night;

The river is calm.

Dawn brought many questions

The birds, they sang their songs,

The answer was evident.