If I can imagine myself over the years and think about what I'm going to tell about my first tour in Ceahlau , I have a first and sure answer: the sunrise.
Then I would breathe deeply the breath of those two unreal mornings of beautiful beauty and continue with the wind of the Toaca, the forest covered in the fog from the return, the trails covered by the larch snow, the gorgeous view of the Duruitoarea Falls, the frightening tongue of ice the stone was heard for a minute falling, the cold air of the night when the moon was hiding in the clouds, the companions of the road with which I enjoyed.
We started climbing through the forest to Dochia Chalet from Mountain Spring on the route marked first by the blue dot (PA) and then by the blue strip (BA).
A portion of the road I climbed more alone, the steeper the climb was, the better I felt. I stopped looking down, listening to the silence, feeling all over there with my heart freaked with happiness, with butterfly in my stomach.
I love the autumn forest when you see so much the transition from deciduous to coniferous, when the larch ones sacrificed stretching the carpets on the paths when the sun penetrates the winding branches despite the wind and lets you feel its mild touch and the memory of the heat.
when I climb up always I remember to look back, see how the scenery gradually increases due to the altitude, do not seem free the climax.
Slowly we found Dochia Chalet (1750m), we came out of the forest in the not very large alpine hole of Ceahlau and from there we chose a path less walked under the cottage through the high grass and jnepeni and in a short time we walked on the steps sunny. I do not know what others did, but after some food and warm tea I retreated to the long-awaited sleep, the home-scheduled task 😀 Or went in and out a dozen times on the door just as the room it was 14 beds, shaved, screamed, singed, snoring, I have no idea (although I remember when a bed broke and when the pot was pounding with the floor, that is the thermos trick). I know so much: I woke up when the pink horizon glowed through the window, and in a minute I already had the boots in my feet, and ready for i see sunrise!
Day two started beautifully, not even better. We're on our way. We would see the Duruitoarea Waterfall following the red cross route (CR), stop at Fantanele Chalet (yellow triangle), head back to Dochia on the red strip (BR) near Panaghia - a rock with personality and climb to Toaca Peak (1900m).
The road to the waterfall was more than beautiful, and the ice portions reminded me that it is still in the winter and that my boots are perfect for skating, just that I would not want to be so inclined ... A gigant rock of ice stopped my breath for a moment, but not fear of admiration, and I immediately found a place of passage. When someone broke off a piece of rock and she went to the frozen valley, I saw her sliding for several tens of seconds, and then her noise was heard for a while ... The valley was narrow and deep, frozen spring formed an impressive natural slide, as though without end, and the short and strong stones still lie in my mind. That echo ... that moment ... the sublime scary.
We were preparing to climb the Toaca, and those who descended suggested us to equip ourselves well and enjoy the weight of the backpacks because we are waiting for an uproar wind up there. And so it was. He did not go through my clothes, but I felt like he was taking me all the way up. On the top there are so many cables and relays and the weather station and what is it that I gave up to take a big picture. We were just following a wind speed measuring system that rose upward to every gust. I did, however, a panorama I post it that it was hard to keep the camera immobile between gusts and how gloves pictures do not come out too and now I feel my paralyzed fingers ...
The road to the cottage made us come by the night, At the cottage as ... a night at the cottage. I have celebrated my colleague's' name.
Another morning, other teas and coffee, a ready-made backpack, a bed set and a descent from the mountain. I usually try not to feel sorry and understand that it's not time to stay. We chose to go down the same route and how the trails in Ceahlau loved me, especially to go along, I got to collect the ("pet"). I had an empty bag for "pet'(trash), a light backpack and a lot of energy. Not by another, but in a place so well cared for and protected, there were also some bipedal characters who could mark their biodegradable passage in a way that is hard to biodegrade. I'm terribly angry and I hope I never see one with my eyes that I do not know how to react. I can not imagine what the peaceful word looks like when I think about it.
But the forest ... the forest was gorgeous ... the legs were skiing through the leaves of the brass, the eyes were looking for light, the body looking for the heat, the soul rising far above me ...
For a while I've missed the mark and felt the forest longer than the rest of the road. He reminded me of my autumns in the hills and home forests, the games in the piles of childhood leaves, the wilderness of the lights ... I had seen a forest covered in the fog, but not so ... maybe the sun was guilty of all that splendor on which Micutza surprised her shyly, whom I regarded as a godly caress and in which I leave now, silently covered ...
How soon will I go back there!!
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