It’s hard to sleep when you know you’re going to do something crazy the following morning. The alarm rang at 4:25 and I jumped right up. I chewed my breakfast absently, while my mind was wondering atop crests and ridges.

At 9, we were already hiking through the forest. As we went deeper, the trees grew smaller, the angle of the slope increased and earth gradually got replaced by rocks.

After some rustling in the bushed, a chamois jumped in front of us (pfew!, not a bear). No point in trying to get the camera, 2 seconds later it was already gone. The edelweiss, as rare as it is ugly, is not that camera-shy. And when you are surrounded by them, you know you are way off the beaten path.

The slope was becoming ridiculous. We were now advancing on all fours, making slow progress. Helmets were on to protect ourselves from falling rocks. My hands were cautiously clinging to rocks, bushes or even grass.

It’s hard to describe it now, but in those moments I was terrified. Grass is the last thing you want to grip on while on a very steep slope. I’m not even mentioning gravel and loose rocks. Knowing that one slip of my boots would have me rolling a couple hundred meters down the mountain frightened me. It was a very interesting situation for me, since it’s something I experience seldom. I tried keeping my cool and succeeded. “Don’t look back!” actually works. This part of the hike had extraordinary views, yet I missed a lot of them and barely took some photos. “It’s no time for photos, pay attention to the ground in front of you!” was going through my head.

We got to the main attraction of the trip: “Brana aeriana”. I can’t translate it, but I can describe it. Imagine an almost vertical mountain wall, high above the surrounding area. Across the wall you have a ridge, sometimes as wide as half a meter, but other times barely enough for your boot. This ridge traverses the wall from one side to the other, offering some unparalleled views towards Busteni and Azuga. Most of the ridge has cables, except the first few meters. I still remember crossing this part, going backwards, while Cristi was guiding my steps: “Grab the grass with both hands. Extend the right arm further. Knees down. More. More. Now extend your right foot. More. More.” My chest was almost touching the wall. I was looking down, trying to see the patch of earth that I had to reach with my right foot. I could only see Busteni, one kilometer down. Eventually I reached the cable, secured myself, then snapped a couple of photos.

It took 2 hours for everybody to get across this 100 meter ridge. We started the final ascent when we were spotted by something I would never have guessed to see here: 2 stray dogs. Yup.. Romania…

We reached the Bucegi Plateau and in a couple of hours we got to its highest point, Omu Peak, and checked in at Omu Cabin. The facilities are what you’d expect at 2507m altitude: no running water, hole-in-the-ground-style toilet and crappy food (the full menu: soup, fried ham/sausages with mashed potatoes). We slept on something called “plici” – a common bed, with 2 levels, for about 30 people. I enjoyed a lovely orchestra of snores and other peculiar sleeping/breathing noises. I would have tried snoring myself, but the heat in the room prevented me from sleeping for half the night.

The next day we went towards Babele Cabin. On the way, I saw my destination for next weekend – Padina:

A part of the group descended by foot. I chose the convenience of the cablecar, not before admiring the Sfinx (first picture – from a certain angle it should resemble a face, but I couldn’t find it) and the Babele (second picture) rock formations.

Conclusions regarding the “Brana aeriana”:
– I will NOT do that ever again (this year)
– I will NOT recommend it to anybody
– That was one of the most awesome things I’ve ever done. Period.