Yesterday had taken it out of me. I had a choice to make. It wasn’t difficult.
When initially planning this trip, I was going to travel by train to Ruprechtice and ascend the mountains from there. In the meantime, I had had a minor panic about the trains and how to use the ‘stop on request’ function. In a bout of madness or over-confidence, I had planned another route that would see me straddle the mountain ridge that acted as a border between Czechia and Poland for an additional seven miles.
The decision was made. I’d get the train. I’m the least macho person I know, and I’ll fight anyone who says differently. What did I have to prove and to whom? No one would care if I cut a corner to ensure I actually made it back safe. I’d already done more miles than calculated and I didn’t want to be stuck up more mountains with trails like yesterday’s. It wasn’t for charity, it wasn’t supposed to be particularly challenging.
I’d only have to do one proper hill – albeit a 2,800ft-tall one. Plus, if I was to leave wonderful Broumov, it had to be for something relatively enjoyable. And I’d get to constantly recall the scenes in Dirty Rotten Scoundrels where Steve Martin’s character pretends to be called Ruprecht. Ruprecht!
Like many villages round here, Ruprechtice was long. It went on for miles, and then ended suddently in forested wilderness. The dusty track was also listed as a cycle route – I’d learned that cycle routes are a bit easier to navigate than the crazy hiking trails. It turns out that a 2,800-foot-high mountain is quite tall. The route wound round and round, with the blinding sun regularly in my eyes. I must remember to hike westwards next time.
There was absolutely no sign of life or bears. This was encouraging. A quick check of my Mapy app (a Czech version of Strava and All Trails) revealed I could be at my lodgings in early afternoon. This boon persuaded me to take the hiking trail at a fork. It was only a kilometre to the top and an altitude gain of 600 metres.
It was a struggle, but I was in no rush. I could take it leisurely and enjoy the day. Then I heard noises.
It sounded like a group of children, but why on earth would they be on the side of this godforsaken mountain? Well, when their teacher takes them on a casual hike to the summit… These bundles of energy were having a great time, larking about as they sauntered up the steep slopes. I politely let them overtake me after a while. I was enjoying listening to Dry the River’s Bible Belt.
Reaching the summit of Ruprechtický špičák was an achievement for me. I was shattered and sweating profusely in 20+ degrees. The kids waved at me from the top of a square metal viewing tower. After they had come down, I made my way up. Well, the first few steps. It may seem mad considering I had just climbed the mountain, but my vertigo kicked in. Instead of the full four flights of stairs, I managed about a half. I couldn’t even take a photograph.
I came back down slightly chastened but realised that all the views from this spectacular vantage point on the border of Czechia and Poland were impressive. Two countries, countless mountains and great vistas covering the previous two days’ journeys.
Then I found the ridge trail which I would have taken had I chosen plan B. Today, I had chosen…wisely. However, I still needed to navigate the remainder of it to get to Sokołowsko. It took me a ridiculous time to clamber down about 100 metres of almost vertical sandy and root-rutted slopes.
My music wasn’t helping. Carole King’s You’ve Got a Friend came on. It’s a great song but one that had been emotionally elevated by recent events. An inopportune moment to be hearing this while trying to navigate this slippery route, but by the end it was thoroughly welcome and a huge comfort.
Another choice presented itself. Continue on the hiking trail or bother non-existant cyclists on their route. I don’t think it will come as a shock to hear what I chose. This was more like it! The terrain still vacilliated wildly but it was infinitely more manageable. Great views of the enclosing mountains bedecked with pristine pine forests offered themselves up. There were even some information boards about local wildlife. One included a picture of some cute puppies. I should have left it there. On closer inspection they were, of course, wolf cubs.
This pleasant route gently carried me down to Sokołowsko with relative ease and I found myself in the ‘Silesian Davos’ or ‘Pearl of the Sudetenland’ by mid afternoon. Despite being the former home of noted film director Krzysztof Kieślowski, there wasn’t much here. I wolfed down a delicious truffle pizza at a cute cafe before retiring to my religious lodgings, sleeping a lengthy sleep under the watchful gaze of St Elizabeth, a painting of whom hung above my bed.
Black Tar Rivers 