But as soon as my daughter grew up, I started monitoring familiar routes on the Kuluar website again, reading reviews, and choosing something for children. That's how I came across the “Child of the Mountains” route.
A month before the trip, we were already living in the Carpathians — I was preparing backpacks, my daughter was asking questions: will there be bears, what if we fall off a mountain, can we make a campfire?
It was an adventure even before the adventure began.
How we prepared
I packed everything myself, thinking that I had everything under control. As it turned out, it would have been better to listen to the Kuluar consultant.
It's a good thing that I bought hiking boots for myself and my child — they really saved us: in the mud, dew, and rocks. People in sneakers were slipping and struggling.
I repacked my backpacks six times, finally taking out a few things — and I thank myself for that. Because when we arrived and started the climb, I realized that I barely had enough strength.
Hiking is when you walk... and then walk some more The first 300 meters were the hardest — my daughter was whining, I was panting, and I took her backpack for myself.
But here is the first stop, the landscape is like a postcard. Further on, it gets better. Walking becomes easier, everyone eats snacks so as not to carry extra weight. Conversations, drops of sweat, children's laughter, and the freshness of the mountains — an intoxicating mixture.
We set up tents at the campsite, my daughter collects branches — she was looking forward to the campfire the most. Soup is cooking, children are running around with sticks, and water for coffee is boiling on another fire.
After dinner, we roast marshmallows — my daughter and I are trying them for the first time, unlike the other family. I am worried about how my child will fall asleep or if she wakes up at night to go to the toilet, how I will get her out of her sleeping bag.
But the night passed with the rustling and howling of the wind. And then there was a thunderstorm, horses, and vurda The next day we climbed up again. It was difficult, but we were already used to it.
The children walked faster than the adults. We went into a hut, bought some vurda, divine Carpathian vurda, and then my daughter saw so many cows with bells for the first time and counted them, looking at them.
Towards evening, a storm caught up with us — lightning, thunder, wind. It was a little scary, but that's also part of the experience — sleeping in a tent with rain pounding on it and lightning illuminating it better than flashlights.
In the morning, horses were grazing under the tent, and one even tried to bite the tent to get to the nuts. Pushing his muzzle away, I climbed out of the tent — steaming mountains, dew, sun, cowbells. Incredible.
Then a delicious breakfast, washing up by a cold stream, collecting water — and walking down a couple of kilometers, although it seems that the village is just a stone's throw away.
What remained after
The descent was slippery and muddy, but with good shoes and lighter backpacks, we managed. It was a little sad because the adventure was coming to an end.
But my daughter was already asking, “When are we going again?” So, my conclusion is simple: going to the mountains with a child is possible and necessary. It strengthens the bond, trains patience, and opens up a whole new world.
The main thing is good planning, the right equipment, and inner readiness. And also — thanks to team leader Vira Voloshin and consultant Oksana, without whom it would have been much more difficult.
Their care, borscht, and humor are a real support. My daughter asks to go only with Vira, and I am mentally preparing for a new adventure. Next time, my backpack will be lighter, but my heart will be just as inspired.