Glowny Szlak Beskidzki - Week 2
Week 2 of the Glowny Szlak Beskidzki. The breaking point of a long-distance trail where the rhythm of hiking ‘all day every day’ becomes the ‘new normal’, and strength is accumulated every advanced kilometre, both mentally and physically.
[Scroll down for Week 2 Tips!]
[Scroll down for Week 2 Tips!]
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8: Dukla Hermitage – Katy
The first day of autumn, the last day on the trail of my hiking buddy Lennart. It started off extremely well: I had the best sleep since I started this endeavour, as thanks to the hospitality of a monk we had finally slept in proper beds (cradled to sleep by the drums of mice paws, dribbling around the old house by the dozens). We were welcomed into the day with a breakfast he especially drove to town for. While being encouraged to eat more than I physically held possible, I underwent the necessary spiritual discussion trying to balance honesty with politeness. The truthful anecdotes about me having studied Latin for 6 years, as well as caressing my possession of a faded Bible my grandfather carried with him the entire WWII while fighting against the Nazi’s, seemed to please the man who showed us so much generosity.
Energized we continued on the bumpy trail into the direction of Katy, pondering over how an entirely spontaneous approach to life leads to truly living, instead of eliminating sudden bursts of unexpected beauty by rational anticipation (this doesn’t only apply to how I walk this trail – it applies to how I walk through my entire lifeline… a few weeks before not even knowing I was going to go to Poland, let alone walk its longest track). To my great relief , today this trail combined natural magnificence with relative easiness. We never arrived this early.
Good, that leaves us with more time to drink, as the departure of Lennart demanded a celebration. We pitched the tent at the terrain of Chono Tu, a pleasant and kindly run B&B recommended to us by other hikers (and now by me to you), and finished both wine bottles they had in stock.
The first day of autumn, the last day on the trail of my hiking buddy Lennart. It started off extremely well: I had the best sleep since I started this endeavour, as thanks to the hospitality of a monk we had finally slept in proper beds (cradled to sleep by the drums of mice paws, dribbling around the old house by the dozens). We were welcomed into the day with a breakfast he especially drove to town for. While being encouraged to eat more than I physically held possible, I underwent the necessary spiritual discussion trying to balance honesty with politeness. The truthful anecdotes about me having studied Latin for 6 years, as well as caressing my possession of a faded Bible my grandfather carried with him the entire WWII while fighting against the Nazi’s, seemed to please the man who showed us so much generosity.
Energized we continued on the bumpy trail into the direction of Katy, pondering over how an entirely spontaneous approach to life leads to truly living, instead of eliminating sudden bursts of unexpected beauty by rational anticipation (this doesn’t only apply to how I walk this trail – it applies to how I walk through my entire lifeline… a few weeks before not even knowing I was going to go to Poland, let alone walk its longest track). To my great relief , today this trail combined natural magnificence with relative easiness. We never arrived this early.
Good, that leaves us with more time to drink, as the departure of Lennart demanded a celebration. We pitched the tent at the terrain of Chono Tu, a pleasant and kindly run B&B recommended to us by other hikers (and now by me to you), and finished both wine bottles they had in stock.
9: Katy – Bartne Peak (rain shelter)
Ouch, I felt that in the morning.
Significantly less fit compared to yesterday I hugged my friend goodbye, and continued the Glowny Szlak Beskidzki entirely solo. I felt grateful for his pleasant presence and insights in the outdoors, which created a shared memory I treasure, but also vibrated with fresh fancy to devour welcome solitude. I like mountains more than people, generally. They might be even more dramatic and demanding than human-beings can be, but they tend to balance your thoughts instead of confusing them.
I entered Magurski National Park, for which my Polish translator and trail guru Marcin Grabinski had bought me an entry ticket (something I wouldn’t even have known was necessary if he didn’t, as there aren’t any ticket boots and I can’t read the entirely in Polish written website). While undergoing the daily Beskid Niski serving of devastating up-down-up-down’s I got distracted from my own tiredness by the breath-taking forest I was traversing, having an almost Celtic vibe to it. From Galicia to Galicja.
Ouch, I felt that in the morning.
Significantly less fit compared to yesterday I hugged my friend goodbye, and continued the Glowny Szlak Beskidzki entirely solo. I felt grateful for his pleasant presence and insights in the outdoors, which created a shared memory I treasure, but also vibrated with fresh fancy to devour welcome solitude. I like mountains more than people, generally. They might be even more dramatic and demanding than human-beings can be, but they tend to balance your thoughts instead of confusing them.
I entered Magurski National Park, for which my Polish translator and trail guru Marcin Grabinski had bought me an entry ticket (something I wouldn’t even have known was necessary if he didn’t, as there aren’t any ticket boots and I can’t read the entirely in Polish written website). While undergoing the daily Beskid Niski serving of devastating up-down-up-down’s I got distracted from my own tiredness by the breath-taking forest I was traversing, having an almost Celtic vibe to it. From Galicia to Galicja.
I watched people picking mushrooms, my favourite vegetable, and wished I had the knowledge (or bravery) to eat them straight out of nature without dying. The entire day thick black rain clouds kept chasing me, indecisively weighing their options on when to pour their load all over me. Luckily, they had the decency to wait until I completed my plan. The plan being: Finding water, an almost impossible quest on the GSB, and tracing down a rain shelter as an alternative of sitting out a thunder- and rainstorm in a tent while trying not to be blown off some cliff. The second I put down my backpack under the crackling old roof of an almost ancient refuge, thick drops wetted the earth… Talking about good timing.
It was just that: a roof. It was entirely open at the front, rain seeped through on all sides, and animals visited me to see if I had some food to share… but it was what I had, and therefore perfect:
It was just that: a roof. It was entirely open at the front, rain seeped through on all sides, and animals visited me to see if I had some food to share… but it was what I had, and therefore perfect:
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10: Bartne Peak - Hanczowa
I woke up lying on a wooden table, and wiped the little mice droppings off the poncho I had laid over my sleeping bag, that nevertheless got entirely damp. My food still untouched, as it was hanging 20 meters away high up in a tree somewhere… the mist so thick I had problems to find it back myself. The weather reports had kept their promise, and were delivering the cold and wet autumn weather like they said they would. Lennart left at the right time.
I spent 2 hours on breakfast, trying to deal with life and accept the reality I got myself into. But when I start something, I finish it. There’s simply no discussion about it. People are entirely free to do as they like when it comes to accepting weaknesses or seeking comfort, but I regard it as a personal defeat and I would never respect myself afterwards. Today I was going to be tested to the extreme, though.
As all my gear and clothing got wet by the humidity of the forest, I decided to get a B&B for the night to at least let it all dry and prevent sickness, a necessity in order to complete this mission. My options were either 15 or 30-km away (if you have better weather: there’s a campsite in between)… Knowing that tomorrow the weather would be even worse, I reluctantly opted for the 2nd option, which is way too much considering the heavy weight I was now carrying all by myself (18-19kg) and the short daylight hours. Add up that this is by far the muddiest stretch of the trail (although the new weather conditions guaranteed a 300-km mud slide until the finish line) and you can’t properly walk without your boots being deeply sucked in, soaking your socks from the top-down… combined with the steepest damn trails I’ve ever hiked in my entire life. Hmm, sometimes I wonder if I’m in Poland to walk a trail, or to complete a fucking military training, it’s hard to tell at times.
Mental breakdown in 3… 2… 1…
Today was too much. But the show goes on.
I woke up lying on a wooden table, and wiped the little mice droppings off the poncho I had laid over my sleeping bag, that nevertheless got entirely damp. My food still untouched, as it was hanging 20 meters away high up in a tree somewhere… the mist so thick I had problems to find it back myself. The weather reports had kept their promise, and were delivering the cold and wet autumn weather like they said they would. Lennart left at the right time.
I spent 2 hours on breakfast, trying to deal with life and accept the reality I got myself into. But when I start something, I finish it. There’s simply no discussion about it. People are entirely free to do as they like when it comes to accepting weaknesses or seeking comfort, but I regard it as a personal defeat and I would never respect myself afterwards. Today I was going to be tested to the extreme, though.
As all my gear and clothing got wet by the humidity of the forest, I decided to get a B&B for the night to at least let it all dry and prevent sickness, a necessity in order to complete this mission. My options were either 15 or 30-km away (if you have better weather: there’s a campsite in between)… Knowing that tomorrow the weather would be even worse, I reluctantly opted for the 2nd option, which is way too much considering the heavy weight I was now carrying all by myself (18-19kg) and the short daylight hours. Add up that this is by far the muddiest stretch of the trail (although the new weather conditions guaranteed a 300-km mud slide until the finish line) and you can’t properly walk without your boots being deeply sucked in, soaking your socks from the top-down… combined with the steepest damn trails I’ve ever hiked in my entire life. Hmm, sometimes I wonder if I’m in Poland to walk a trail, or to complete a fucking military training, it’s hard to tell at times.
Mental breakdown in 3… 2… 1…
Today was too much. But the show goes on.
Tip: From today on, make sure you have the GPS downloaded, as today and tomorrow the trail marks are rather unclear.
11: Hanczowa – Krynica-Zdroj
Dry. Warm. Clean. I didn’t feel like this in what seemed to be a very long while. I adore the outdoors, I am obsessed with hiking, I don’t even mind the cold, but boy, do I fucking hate rain. It ruins everything. There’s a reason I left The Netherlands. After I had hung my tent and gear out to dry, washed my clothes and cooking gear, finished the 3-course vegetarianski meal the lady of the house had prepared for me, indulged in a 30-minute shower, and dove butt-naked into a warm bed, I started to slowly feel human again. I passed out almost immediately and slept through the emergency weather I alternatively would have pitched my already-soaked tent in.
One problem though: It never stopped. Demotivated I stared outside in the morning, unable to see anything by the downpour aggressively slamming against the window. Fuck. Me. Why didn’t I choose a trail in the Caribbean or something?
I waited until 11:30 until it looked like the worst part was over (seriously, how much water can a cloud contain anyway, do they have more capacity in Poland?), and hurried into what seemed to be some kind of hurricane, still 2km away from the trail. I was actually glad to leave, as a newly arrived guest in the B&B had stalked me around the house for a solid 3 hours, even trying to get into the bathroom and staring through the window from our shared balcony while I was getting dressed… presenting the first not-likable Polish person on the trail.
11: Hanczowa – Krynica-Zdroj
Dry. Warm. Clean. I didn’t feel like this in what seemed to be a very long while. I adore the outdoors, I am obsessed with hiking, I don’t even mind the cold, but boy, do I fucking hate rain. It ruins everything. There’s a reason I left The Netherlands. After I had hung my tent and gear out to dry, washed my clothes and cooking gear, finished the 3-course vegetarianski meal the lady of the house had prepared for me, indulged in a 30-minute shower, and dove butt-naked into a warm bed, I started to slowly feel human again. I passed out almost immediately and slept through the emergency weather I alternatively would have pitched my already-soaked tent in.
One problem though: It never stopped. Demotivated I stared outside in the morning, unable to see anything by the downpour aggressively slamming against the window. Fuck. Me. Why didn’t I choose a trail in the Caribbean or something?
I waited until 11:30 until it looked like the worst part was over (seriously, how much water can a cloud contain anyway, do they have more capacity in Poland?), and hurried into what seemed to be some kind of hurricane, still 2km away from the trail. I was actually glad to leave, as a newly arrived guest in the B&B had stalked me around the house for a solid 3 hours, even trying to get into the bathroom and staring through the window from our shared balcony while I was getting dressed… presenting the first not-likable Polish person on the trail.
However, today’s trail-stretch can definitely be filed away under the label ‘pleasant’. Be it slippery, thanks to the short but aggressive rain bursts violently refreshing me time after time just before I could slip down into my own thoughts. Nevertheless, nothing could break my spirits today: I whistled and sang along the entire track, soaking up the jaw-dropping landscapes like it was my first encounter with nature. After rainfall the fields and leaves just glow and glitter, and don’t even get me started about the rainbows popping up out of nowhere wherever you look. What a difference a day makes!
People had warned me about bad trail signing just passed Ropki, and they sure didn’t lie… so today’s trail was made possible by the ViewRanger-GPS-app. Luckily, for the first time on the GSB, water seemed to be widely available, as the trail follows a river… If one thing, this trail thoroughly taught me how to appreciate such a basic necessity, never realizing I was spoiled by its usually ever-present availability. So present, that often the trail had turned into an actual river, demanding you to cross it barefoot. Can’t blame the Beskidzki Trail for lack of adventure and variety! Also a slice of civilization made its entry into the route, slithering passed traditional wooden churches slightly similar to those I had seen in the northern Romanian region of Maramures, be it with their own distinct character. It once again shows that you definitely don’t need a greedy amount of gold to represent your god in all its dignity… the real gold comes from an attitude liked we experienced in the Dukla Hermitage.
At some point I stared at Maps.me and concluded I’m very close to today’s end point: Krynica-Zdroj. Lesson of today: Never use Maps.me on the GSB, as it gives a completely distorted image, killing all motivation when confronted with reality. This app gives the shortest and easiest route, while the Glowny Szlak Beskidzki of course won’t let you have that. Every single mountain in its reach must be ascended and descended, adding many hours and sweat drops to what in theory could be a laid-back hike. The GSB is for the hardcore only.
Krynica-Zdroj: Half-way the trail. Time for a rest day.
People had warned me about bad trail signing just passed Ropki, and they sure didn’t lie… so today’s trail was made possible by the ViewRanger-GPS-app. Luckily, for the first time on the GSB, water seemed to be widely available, as the trail follows a river… If one thing, this trail thoroughly taught me how to appreciate such a basic necessity, never realizing I was spoiled by its usually ever-present availability. So present, that often the trail had turned into an actual river, demanding you to cross it barefoot. Can’t blame the Beskidzki Trail for lack of adventure and variety! Also a slice of civilization made its entry into the route, slithering passed traditional wooden churches slightly similar to those I had seen in the northern Romanian region of Maramures, be it with their own distinct character. It once again shows that you definitely don’t need a greedy amount of gold to represent your god in all its dignity… the real gold comes from an attitude liked we experienced in the Dukla Hermitage.
At some point I stared at Maps.me and concluded I’m very close to today’s end point: Krynica-Zdroj. Lesson of today: Never use Maps.me on the GSB, as it gives a completely distorted image, killing all motivation when confronted with reality. This app gives the shortest and easiest route, while the Glowny Szlak Beskidzki of course won’t let you have that. Every single mountain in its reach must be ascended and descended, adding many hours and sweat drops to what in theory could be a laid-back hike. The GSB is for the hardcore only.
Krynica-Zdroj: Half-way the trail. Time for a rest day.
12: Krynica-Zdroj – Hala Labowska
After a day during which my muscle activity was limited to lifting my arm to turn the page of my book or pour some wine into my mouth, and the only hike being up and down the fridge, I felt properly refreshed. A rest-day made possible by the Polish Couchsurf community: Host Radoslaw – a person I never met – offered his entire apartment for my private use (free of charge), while he wasn’t even there. Pretty incredible.
It looked like even the weather took a little rest day, and when I walked through the properly-sized town of Krynica, admiring the interesting architecture unique to Poland and utilizing the opportunity to buy needed supplies (the first time since Rymanow-Zdroj), the sun scattered some freckles onto my nose and cheeks. The flatness of the trail only stretched as long as the city, and soon I was forced straight up a steep mountain again… a ski slope now blooming with flowers and greenery. Hmm, Poland is full of surprises: a ski destination, who would have thought? With local prices, this must represent some true advantages over the Alps and Pyrenées. Black slopes in wide supply too, I concluded while feeling the burn spike through my legs and knees… I started to leave the Beskid Niski, the lower Beskids, behind… which meant higher peaks, but less up-down-up-down-valley-peak-valley-peak. A relief, as once you’re up (which requires more time and effort though) you at least stay up for a while, with glorious rewards in the shape of panoramic ridge walks. I am embracing this new episode of the GSB, as somehow this seems like a way better deal.
I took a break next to the highest ski lift, dragging up the lazier people who just came here to snap some quick selfies, while looking weirdly at me eating pasta out of a plastic bag and drying my socks hanging from the tree branches. I felt like a different species of the human-kind, but proudly so.
The trail continued comfortably over the mountain tops, today opposed to all weather reports not tormented by heavy rainfall. The second the Hala Labowska hut came in sight, however, all hell broke loose. At times like that, 6 bucks for a private room doesn’t seem like such a bad deal, no matter how thoroughly you enjoy camping.
I was the only guest there. I fucking love low season.
After a day during which my muscle activity was limited to lifting my arm to turn the page of my book or pour some wine into my mouth, and the only hike being up and down the fridge, I felt properly refreshed. A rest-day made possible by the Polish Couchsurf community: Host Radoslaw – a person I never met – offered his entire apartment for my private use (free of charge), while he wasn’t even there. Pretty incredible.
It looked like even the weather took a little rest day, and when I walked through the properly-sized town of Krynica, admiring the interesting architecture unique to Poland and utilizing the opportunity to buy needed supplies (the first time since Rymanow-Zdroj), the sun scattered some freckles onto my nose and cheeks. The flatness of the trail only stretched as long as the city, and soon I was forced straight up a steep mountain again… a ski slope now blooming with flowers and greenery. Hmm, Poland is full of surprises: a ski destination, who would have thought? With local prices, this must represent some true advantages over the Alps and Pyrenées. Black slopes in wide supply too, I concluded while feeling the burn spike through my legs and knees… I started to leave the Beskid Niski, the lower Beskids, behind… which meant higher peaks, but less up-down-up-down-valley-peak-valley-peak. A relief, as once you’re up (which requires more time and effort though) you at least stay up for a while, with glorious rewards in the shape of panoramic ridge walks. I am embracing this new episode of the GSB, as somehow this seems like a way better deal.
I took a break next to the highest ski lift, dragging up the lazier people who just came here to snap some quick selfies, while looking weirdly at me eating pasta out of a plastic bag and drying my socks hanging from the tree branches. I felt like a different species of the human-kind, but proudly so.
The trail continued comfortably over the mountain tops, today opposed to all weather reports not tormented by heavy rainfall. The second the Hala Labowska hut came in sight, however, all hell broke loose. At times like that, 6 bucks for a private room doesn’t seem like such a bad deal, no matter how thoroughly you enjoy camping.
I was the only guest there. I fucking love low season.
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Tip: About 1 hour before the Hala Labowska hut there is a sizable rain shelter, big enough to pitch at least 2 tents in. If I weren’t so excited to see the paintings in the hut, AND if I would have enough water for once, I would have 100% spent the night here.
13: Hala Labowska – Miedzyradziejówki Peak
The kind lady of the hut had asked me if 8AM was too late for breakfast, upon which I had loudly laughed. Until I realized she was serious. I almost forgot most hikers aren’t like me, entering the trail about 10-11AM as I carry me own accommodation on my back and can just stop whenever and wherever I feel like stopping. I’m not dependent on huts or accommodation, and I don’t need to reach anything but the end of the trail… eventually, whenever the time is right. No pressure. Not on the trail, not in life. Plus, it’s the golden approach to assure crowd-free trails.
While cooking oatmeal on my own gas (I am a budget traveler – I avoid buying restaurant meals) I stared at the wall paintings drawing me into this hut to begin with.
I felt an icy shock wrapping itself around my heart. I had been hiking the previous 50% of the trail thinking that was the heaviest part… but now I got painfully confronted with the fact that the hardest part was yet to come.
How is this possible? How did Poland not destroy both Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union, as sure as hell this country must be inhabited by some invincible super-humans, if they consider this as normal hiking trails?!
13: Hala Labowska – Miedzyradziejówki Peak
The kind lady of the hut had asked me if 8AM was too late for breakfast, upon which I had loudly laughed. Until I realized she was serious. I almost forgot most hikers aren’t like me, entering the trail about 10-11AM as I carry me own accommodation on my back and can just stop whenever and wherever I feel like stopping. I’m not dependent on huts or accommodation, and I don’t need to reach anything but the end of the trail… eventually, whenever the time is right. No pressure. Not on the trail, not in life. Plus, it’s the golden approach to assure crowd-free trails.
While cooking oatmeal on my own gas (I am a budget traveler – I avoid buying restaurant meals) I stared at the wall paintings drawing me into this hut to begin with.
I felt an icy shock wrapping itself around my heart. I had been hiking the previous 50% of the trail thinking that was the heaviest part… but now I got painfully confronted with the fact that the hardest part was yet to come.
How is this possible? How did Poland not destroy both Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union, as sure as hell this country must be inhabited by some invincible super-humans, if they consider this as normal hiking trails?!
Remember: I walk the trail from right to left...
Slightly demotivated by this new information I left the hut and stepped right on the trail again, rain instantly soaking me from head to toe, thick mist blocking all views. I turned inwards, staring at the clover-3’s I was crushing with every step. I suddenly realized I didn’t see a clover-4 since my childhood. It’s easy to fall into cheesy conclusions such as ‘happiness is always around the corner when you’re a kid’, but I immediately knew that for me it’s quite the opposite. Childhood for me triggers memories of obeying, being forced to listen to anyone who claims authority based on age, while being bullied and humiliated by similar-aged peers, as immature brains think that in order to reach higher others need to be pushed down, instead of focusing on personal growth from within. Adulthood for me (but definitely not for many) represents total independence from others and constructions others made up under the flag of ‘society’, enabling the purest form of freedom… the best feeding ground for intelligence, creativity, and true happiness. Adulthood turned me into a clover-4, stepping on those clover-3’s who got forever stuck in their own mediocracy, trying to tell others what they cannot do, simply because they aren’t capable to do so.
I looked up and realized darkness was setting in, while rain intensified. I had hoped to run into one of those pleasant rain shelters to spend the night in, but they tend to be everywhere, except when you need them the most. I could have stayed in the town of Rytro in order to be comfortable, but I didn’t allow myself to only walk 15km in a day, and decided to continue without a plan. Always without a plan. Usually that makes life more beautiful, but not tonight. After having made a master ascend with 4,5kg of water added to the existing weight on my back, I searched for over an hour to an acceptable wild camping spot that was somehow slightly flat and neither rocky nor muddy. I didn’t find it.
Bad start of a bad night.
Slightly demotivated by this new information I left the hut and stepped right on the trail again, rain instantly soaking me from head to toe, thick mist blocking all views. I turned inwards, staring at the clover-3’s I was crushing with every step. I suddenly realized I didn’t see a clover-4 since my childhood. It’s easy to fall into cheesy conclusions such as ‘happiness is always around the corner when you’re a kid’, but I immediately knew that for me it’s quite the opposite. Childhood for me triggers memories of obeying, being forced to listen to anyone who claims authority based on age, while being bullied and humiliated by similar-aged peers, as immature brains think that in order to reach higher others need to be pushed down, instead of focusing on personal growth from within. Adulthood for me (but definitely not for many) represents total independence from others and constructions others made up under the flag of ‘society’, enabling the purest form of freedom… the best feeding ground for intelligence, creativity, and true happiness. Adulthood turned me into a clover-4, stepping on those clover-3’s who got forever stuck in their own mediocracy, trying to tell others what they cannot do, simply because they aren’t capable to do so.
I looked up and realized darkness was setting in, while rain intensified. I had hoped to run into one of those pleasant rain shelters to spend the night in, but they tend to be everywhere, except when you need them the most. I could have stayed in the town of Rytro in order to be comfortable, but I didn’t allow myself to only walk 15km in a day, and decided to continue without a plan. Always without a plan. Usually that makes life more beautiful, but not tonight. After having made a master ascend with 4,5kg of water added to the existing weight on my back, I searched for over an hour to an acceptable wild camping spot that was somehow slightly flat and neither rocky nor muddy. I didn’t find it.
Bad start of a bad night.
14: Miedzyradziejówki Peak - Kroscienko
Try to imagine how you feel in the morning after not having slept a single second the entire night (because the rain slammed so hard on the tent it sounded like I was in the middle of a fucking shootout). Then add freezing cold to the equation (I slept with 5 layers on and was still shivering), no shower, all your shit being drenched and dirty, every crumb of food wet, and knowing you have to walk over 25km on steeper-than-steep trails that have now turned into slippery, muddy rivers drenching your already soppy shoes. Right. Hell on earth.
Having to break down and pack my tent in a pouring thunderstorm, while getting entirely soaked in the process, definitely didn’t assist in brightening the mood… neither was carrying all this packed rain water. Let’s say there was a lot of swearing involved, like a forceful mantra to drag myself through this dreadful day.
These are those moments on long-distance trails during which you wonder why you’re doing this, but you somehow can’t remember. So you just try to focus on long-distance trails being mini-versions of life, with sharp sparks of happiness, but also heavy stretches demanding you to just straighten your spine and row through the bullshit. When the going gets tough, the tough get going.
If long-distance trails are indeed mini-versions of life, this day represented 2020.
Try to imagine how you feel in the morning after not having slept a single second the entire night (because the rain slammed so hard on the tent it sounded like I was in the middle of a fucking shootout). Then add freezing cold to the equation (I slept with 5 layers on and was still shivering), no shower, all your shit being drenched and dirty, every crumb of food wet, and knowing you have to walk over 25km on steeper-than-steep trails that have now turned into slippery, muddy rivers drenching your already soppy shoes. Right. Hell on earth.
Having to break down and pack my tent in a pouring thunderstorm, while getting entirely soaked in the process, definitely didn’t assist in brightening the mood… neither was carrying all this packed rain water. Let’s say there was a lot of swearing involved, like a forceful mantra to drag myself through this dreadful day.
These are those moments on long-distance trails during which you wonder why you’re doing this, but you somehow can’t remember. So you just try to focus on long-distance trails being mini-versions of life, with sharp sparks of happiness, but also heavy stretches demanding you to just straighten your spine and row through the bullshit. When the going gets tough, the tough get going.
If long-distance trails are indeed mini-versions of life, this day represented 2020.
What a week.
Week 2 Tips:
More Glowny Szlak Beskdizki reports:
Week 2 Tips:
- This week more than ever, an app or device of GPS tracking is recommended as the trail signs sometimes disappear. I found the entire GSB on ViewRanger, but other options are apps such as Wikiloc or OpenTrails. Watch out though: When planning routes, often there are mountains and villages with the exact same name, but they can be many kilometres apart. If you plan the groceries, double-check if the trail actually passes the town or the mountain, to not get into trouble with food provisions. Maps.me isn’t recommend as it usually gives the shortest / easiest route, and the GSB likes to take the hardest route possible… making you feel like you’re almost there when you absolutely aren’t.
- The water situation remains complicated on most days. As river water is your only option in many cases, a portable water filter is a desired item to pack. Often the valley is the only spot where river water can be found, so it’s recommended to fill all your camel bags and bottles and just suffer the weight while climbing up again. There’s no other way.
- I repeat last week’s tip, as it’s still crucial: Download the Polish Emergency Call app (Ratunek) for free. In emergency situations in the mountains you can push the ‘Góry’ button to alarm mountain rescue and automatically send location. Make sure you have a Polish simcard (available from as cheap as 5 zloty – 1 euro).
- Sleeping situation: I prefer (wild) camping, as it provides you with that ultimate sense of freedom, being able to sleep wherever you want (although try to be slightly hidden, as it's officially illegal in most places) and stopping whenever you get too tired or when the sun goes down. Plan your water-reserves well for this, in order to cook and still have enough for the night and day to come (you might have to walk a fair end to find the next water source, especially on the GSB). The GSB also has many basic shelters, often just consisting of a wooden roof and a bench: I sometimes spent the rainy nights inside of those. There are however also some more civilized camping spots (paid), and most B&B's will allow you to pitch your tent in the garden and use the shower and kitchen, all for a modest fee. If camping isn't your cup of tea or you want to hike with a light pack: There is a wide network of rather luxurious (although some might call it basic) and affordable mountain huts, where you can pay for a bed in a dormitory or a private room. These huts have showers, heating, running water and often serve 3 meals a day. The villages you pass also have cheap B&B's / Homestays and pricier hotels. Notice that most of those are not listed on Booking.com or international booking devices (only the most expensive ones)... most are listed on Polish websites only and all of them only take phone-reservations. A problem is that outside of the bigger cities Polish is the only spoken language, and when you speak English or German they will eventually just hang up the phone as they don't understand what you're saying. Join GSB Facebook groups, where very helpful, Polish fellow-hikers will gladly assist you. When relying on accommodation, plan your hikes very well and book ahead, as the options are limited and they are sometimes 30+KM apart.
- Food situation: This depends on your budget and preferences. I was camping, so prefered to cook my meals on gas along the way, eating outdoors. This meant I had to carry extra weight in gas, titanium cooking gear and of course food reserves. The mountain huts serve basic meals, and of course you can stock up in the villages along the way. Plan this well, as sometimes you're outside of civilization for several days... and you eat about twice as much hiking than on a 'normal' day, burning tons of energy daily.
- Packing list: People always ask me what to pack for a multi-day hike, but let me remind you that you're asking the lady who carries 18+KG with her. It also depends on if you're camping or not. Let me list the basics... Non-camping packing list (evaluate the season for appropariate clothing): 2x comfortable hiking pants, rain paints, thermal legging, 2-3x quick-dry tops, 3x underwear, 2x sports bra, longsleeve, fleece, 3x socks (always have 1 dry pair with you), bar of textile soap (cut in half), wind+rainproof jacket, rain cover for backpack, properly walked-in GoreTex hiking boots with orthopedic soles, flipflops, hiking poles, gloves, hat, scarve/buff, light-weight towel, bug spray, sunscreen, sunglasses, toothbrush/paste, toilet paper, half bar of soap, shampoo, contactlenses/liquid, hairbrush, phone with local simcard and GPS, charger with spare cable, powerbank, spare bags for garbage, camelbacks allowing for at least 4 liters, water filter; basic medication: band aids, desinfectant, tweezers, tick-remover, aspirin, anti-diarrhea pills, feet care: tape for trouble spots, cotton, pressure points relievers, vaseline, needles for blisters; talk powder (for your sweaty ass: trust me on that one), e-reader/book, light-weight energy-food; basic survival pack: pocket knife, emergency blanket, whistle, matches and lighter, rope, headlamp, spare batteries, compass. All liquids repacked in small bottles, or buy powder form when available. Wash your clothes in the huts and hang them to dry over-night and later on from your backpack when hiking. Of course winter season demands extra items for snow-hiking, like crampons and ice picks. Some items can be cut in half to save weight. With camping added to the mix: Light-weight trekking tent, sleeping bag made for the season, sleeping mat, inflatable pillow, camping gas, titanium cooking gear, plastic cutlery, long rope and tupperware (to pack food and hang it in the tree far away from your sleeping spot - there are bears here), food for planned days.
More Glowny Szlak Beskdizki reports:
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You're currently reading the first English-written blog about the GSB in its entirety. I personally had to gather all my information in Polish and google-translate everything. The most useful source I found Marcin Grabinski's. Background stories I recommend: The Beskids; Border Info & Impressions; Beskid Niski (Komancza - Krynica-Zdroj); Lemko History of Beskid Niski. Another great Polish source is provided by the well-respected blogger Lukasz Supergan, check out his site!
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