It was my first hike in the mountains.
Graduation was yesterday, and today it’s already the hike. Absolutely spontaneous: my friend and I snag tickets at the last moment, we google “Kuluar,” we know almost nothing for sure, but we just go. My friend has minimal experience; our friend who joined for the company has a bit more. And me? I will be stepping into the Carpathians for the first time.
Third-class sleeper (platskart) from Kyiv—kind of scary. I don’t know if I’ll handle it or not, whether the people will be nice, whether the gear will be enough… But I’m going. I’m just going.
Morning. Frankivsk railway station.
There are still a few hours until the meetup; we have breakfast, we walk, we breathe. Inside, calm and anxiety at the same time. And then the meeting. The roster. Team leader Taras. Backpacks. Poles. People who also gathered for this hike. We are silent, getting acquainted with our eyes. We get into the van. We drive. Beauty outside the window. Silence inside. We don’t yet know who we are to one another, but soon everything will change.
The first ascent
And the first shock. My legs give out from the first steps. Inside I want to shout: “Helicopter, take me away!” But to the question “how are you?” I answer: “Fine.” And I climb.
I climb thanks to friends. We talk about nothing, joke, share water, sweets, pauses. Once again I convince myself that I have the best Dasha.
But I’m especially grateful to Taras, because he was not just a guide, he was real support. Both moral and physical. At some point he even took a few things out of my backpack to make it easier for me. And I really remembered that.
At some point I caught myself thinking: these people are taking care of me now more than some of those I used to call “family.”
The first meadow
We silently fall into the grass. This isn’t Pinterest; this is reality. Then we set up tents, help each other, leave our things and set off to conquer Khomiak. On the way someone laughs, someone wants to swear, but everyone climbs forward, everyone believes in themselves and already believes in one another.
At the summit a million photos, we lie on the rocks, we breathe the sky.
Descent.
We lose the trail, climb into thickets, laugh, push through like wild ones. And then evening. Fire. Borshch. For the first time we tell who we are. Who’s from where, why here, what we’re looking for. We laugh. We drink tea. And no one wants to go into the tents, because we are no longer strangers.
Morning. 8 o’clock..
Everyone is already bustling about. They cook breakfast, stoke the fire, as if they’ve known each other a hundred years. They hand out bracelets and buffs. The bracelets say: “I conquer not the mountain, but myself.” And this phrase will hold me for a long time after.
A day of conquests.
Syniak and Malyi Horhan are ours. In one day. We go through wind, rain, over stones, with pain in our legs, but already without whining. Now everything is different: despite the pain there is support. On the summits, silence. We are quiet because we want to keep this moment inside us forever.
Descent. And again the camp.
We laugh, we fall, we’re dying, but we made it. Cows. A spring. A meadow. Before us is Malyi Horhan, and around us forest and peace. Despite the rain we cook soup, make sandwiches, the guys tend the fire, and I can’t help but capture all this beauty.
We sit until midnight. We laugh, we hug, we already understand all the jokes. We drink hot tea, look at the stars. They give me a book, and I just can’t believe this isn’t a dream.
Precisely that “good night” is the saddest of all. Because we know that tomorrow we’ll go our separate ways.
Morning. Bukovel.
We have breakfast slowly, for a long time, as if stretching time. At last we descend. We go to the lake to swim; part of the group is at a café. We return, the driver picks us up, we look back at the views one last time and drive off with music, chatting. Then, of course, the legendary “Desiatka.” Some leave, some stay, but no one says goodbye.
Because none of us wants this to end.
Finale. Frankivsk.
We walk with part of the team who are on the way with us; we wait for the 2 a.m. train for which there are no tickets. But we believe it will work out. And they really let us on. Because we are no longer just tourists; we are becoming good acquaintances to one another. We reach Kyiv, we say goodbye…
But we know for sure:
this is not the end,
this is only the beginning.
Because now Kyiv is full of people with whom I have already gone through “fire and water.”
And inside me a new love.
Love for the mountains.
And a few tips if you’re also going to the mountains for the first time:
But the main thing — drink water, breathe slowly, don’t compare yourself to others. In the mountains there is their own rhythm. The mountains are not competing with you; they simply are. And they very much want you to endure. Walk the way that’s comfortable. And remember that you are conquering not the mountains, but yourself!