The room at the chalet was thin and rectangular. Two single beds following each other were set against a wall, in front of two large windows without curtains looking out on endless snow. I had goulash for dinner and went to bed with my clothes on. The heater warmed up the room some, but it was still uncomfortably cold. Besides, I didn't want to lose any time the next day - I wanted to get up and start the hike to Śnieżnik, the peak of the massif, then, from there, onto to the village of Stříbrnice in the Czech Republic.
The sunlight woke me up in the early morning on day 2 of the hiking odyssey. For a second I didn't know where I was, my mind expected to see the breezy pictures of bamboo leaves that lined the bedroom of the apartment I rented in Wroclaw, but instead it saw the interior of a dingy coffin with cut-out windows on the side. Then everything came back to me - the pain in my traps reminded me of my lunatic plan. I wondered if someone could give me a ride to the village of Stříbrnice, but remembered I hardly had any cash on me to pay for the ride. Besides, the peak is only 500 m away - yes, I'll have to walk up an incline to get there but, afterwards, it should all be downhill. I pushed away my blanket, swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat down for a while, thinking.
I felt hungry. I reached for the plastic bag in which I kept the food supplies for my hike, grabbed a snickers bar and tore off a piece with my mouth. A vile smell suddenly wafted up from the bag. I looked inside and found my bananas have gone rotten. They were in a small plastic bag inside the larger one with my food supplies. On one of my breaks the day before I had a banana and put the peel back in the bag - I forgot to throw it away. Shoving the rancid smelling supplies bag away from me, I faced the wall and chewed furiously on my snickers.
The chilled air outside cleaned any leftover trace of sleep or laziness. My body shuddered - I felt instantly alert and ready to go. In the distance I could see a mist that hid the peaks of mountains. Icicles clung all over the chalet like Christmas decorations on a pine tree. After taking a few pics I saddled my gear on me, took one last look at the chalet before giving it my back and walked through the steam from my breath, towards the thick of trees that hid the peak.*
It took me about an hour to walk the 500 m and finally reach Śnieżnik. The summit was barren of trees and was thrashed mercilessly by a furious wind. On my right was a row of tall sticks firmly planted in the ground and that ran down one side of the hill. it was so windy on the peak that the icicles formed on top of those sticks pointed horizontally. To my left was a viewing point. A person in a red jacket stood there alone, looking through binoculars at the panoramic scenery around him. I set my gear down and took in the view, staring at the horizon and other mountain peaks in the eye.
According to my hiking plan, I had to follow a green marker for a trail that runs on the mountain range. A few hundred meters away this trail should connect to another that leads down the mountain into the Czech Republic. However, everything on the peak was buried under snow! I took out my compass, found the direction the trail should head towards and walked there to look for a sign. Buried in snow was something like a distance-marker that had a hint of green on it. I brushed off the snow and saw the full green hiking trail marker. Beyond that were rolling hills and thick snow. There were no footprints or other signs to show a used path. I walked on the snow for a while, just to test it out. The snow reached almost up to my ankles and there was no other marker to confirm I was on the right trail. The situation didn't look good - I could go off of my compass and educated assumptions, but I didn't want to take any risks. I looked at my map again. There's another hiking trail that heads down the mountain from Śnieżnik on an Easterly direction. I returned to where I set down my backpacks and took out my compass for another reading. East happens to point in the same direction where the tall sticks planted in the ground head towards. But there was no marker on those sticks.
So I climbed up the viewing point to ask the man in the red jacket for advice. I greeted him in Polish, spread out the map in front of him on a sheet of snow, pointed to Stříbrnice and to where the tall sticks run down the hill. The man looked in his mid to late 50's, his mouth twisted in a grimace that showed discoloured and crooked teeth. A stubble covered his thin face and a water-drop hung on his nose. He asked if I spoke German. Even when I told him I didn't he went off in a long-winded monologue and pointed to different peaks on the horizon with his gloved hand then pointed at the medals that hung on his chest. One of the medals had the insignia of the Russian flag while another medal had that of the Chinese flag. I couldn't recognize the rest and didn't understand what they represented. After his long monologue died down I pointed again to Stříbrnice on the map and to the tall sticks. He nodded. I thanked him and hurriedly walked off to my gear. Looking back over my shoulder one last time before walking down the hill, I noticed the man in the red jacket went back to his binoculars, surveying the world around him as if watching over his land.
*
I couldn't be any happier - there was a proper sign that indicated the direction to Stříbrnice and the trail was all downhill. What's more, people were hiking up in the opposite direction. Each time we greeted the other with 'Dobry Dan' (hello in Czech). At one point I spoke with a hiker - he confirmed that I was heading in the right direction and, out of curiosity, asked where I came from. I answered by pointing a finger up to the Śnieżnik peak.It got warmer the further downhill I went . The sun brightly lit the villages scattered in the valley below me. The gravel road changed to a windy street I shared with cars, squeezed between a tree-covered hill on one side and a drop to a stream on the other. There were no hiking markers to check whether I'm on the right trail but I kept on walking, happy to be going downhill and in such wonderful weather.
After a while I saw small houses and a sign that I couldn't make out posted by the road. Aside from the few people busy in front of a barn there was not a soul around. The sign by the road became legible: it read Stříbrnice. Euphoria lifted me off the ground: I made it - I hiked to the Czech Republic from Poland. I instinctively pumped the air with my fist. And when I walked past the village sign, I did so with my fist held up high in the air.
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