A day in the mountains

It was one of my best mountain trips, but let me start from the beginning.

Unlike what I usually do, I decided to get there the day before, sleep in my car, and set off on the trail at dawn.

I had a 3-hour drive ahead of me. Outside the window, the landscape was changing slowly, but noticeably. The towns grew smaller, the roads narrower and more winding. Somewhere along the way, I crossed the border into the Czech Republic. Before long, nature had taken over the scenery, and I already knew I was heading in the right direction.

Just after 9 pm, I arrived at the place where I would spend the short night. The parking area was on a hill with a pretty nice view over the valley, so I wasn’t alone. I’m not sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

This time, it was quite peaceful. The sun had already set, but night hadn't fallen yet. It’s one of my favorite moments of the day, so I went for a short walk around the area. When I got back, I got ready for bed and turned in a little after 10 pm.

The car was still warm from the day’s heat, but I knew it would cool down quickly. The temperature was expected to drop to 7°C overnight. I was prepared for that. It wasn’t until the middle of the night that I had to zip up my sleeping bag a little more.

I slept quite well. I dreamed that someone was trying to get into my car. When I woke up, I spent a moment wondering whether it had only been a dream. Fittingly enough.

I got up around 4 am. According to my WHOOP, I had slept for just under 5 hours. It was 13°C inside the car. Outside, it was already light, although the sun had not risen yet. The only thing I could hear was birdsong.

At first, I had planned to watch the sunrise from the trail, from a lookout tower less than an hour’s walk away. But knowing what was waiting for me that day, an extra hour of sleep felt like a better investment.

I started getting ready to leave. It took longer than I expected. At one point, I managed to knock over my stove and spill the water meant for my coffee. It was already a little after 5 am when I set off. At last.

Taking advantage of those extra few hours in the morning, I planned my longest route yet. The distance itself wasn’t the goal, though. I wanted to link together several places that had been on my list for a long time into a single loop.

The first few kilometers led through a spruce forest, with the first rays of sunlight filtering through the trees. The air was still cool and crisp. The insects had yet to make themselves known.

Along the way, I spotted a few roe deer and heard more woodpeckers than people. That wasn’t difficult. For most of the morning, the trail remained almost empty. It’s my favorite time to hike. The world is already awake, but it’s not in a hurry yet.

My first stop was the lookout tower where I had originally considered watching the sunrise. It was unbelievably windy at the top, but the views more than made up for it.

The trail gradually gained elevation, passing several smaller peaks along the way. Every now and then, there was a viewpoint tucked a little off the main path. Each one required a small detour, but not once did I regret taking it.

Around 9 am, I reached Śnieżnik. At 1423 meters, it’s not one of the highest mountains in Poland, but it is the highest peak in the entire massif. The summit itself lies right on the Polish–Czech border.

It was completely empty, as if I were the first person there that day. Only after a few minutes did I notice a handful of hikers making their way to the top.

The trees end before the summit itself. Because of that, the views are wide open and unobstructed. Along with them comes the wind. That day, it was particularly persistent.

There is also a lookout tower at the summit. I climbed it without much thought. The views were exactly as good as you would expect from a place where you can see mountains on both sides of the border.

I knew it was a good moment for a longer break, but finding the right spot turned out to be more difficult than the climb itself. I wanted to get out of the wind, and the summit is spacious enough that I spent a while wandering around without any real plan.

While looking for a place to sit, I spotted a hare hopping through the bushes. A fairly large one. It was doing exactly the same thing as me—busying itself among the shrubs.

Finally, I found a spot that wasn’t perfect, but was sheltered from the wind well enough. I ate the oatmeal I had prepared the day before and sat there for a while. Just being still.

The rest of the route continued on the Czech side of the border. As I made my way down from Śnieżnik, I started passing more and more people heading for the summit. And that’s when a small problem appeared. I had no idea how I was supposed to greet them.

In Polish? In Czech? In English? Something more formal or less formal? I had never climbed a border peak from any side other than the Polish one. I also had no way of knowing whether every person I met was actually Czech. In the end, I settled on a universal “Hi.”

Just below the summit is the source of the Morava River. I refilled my water there. It was good, but ice cold.

At that point, I still wasn’t sure whether it was safe to drink. While preparing for the hike, I hadn’t found much information confirming that the water was drinkable. But I didn’t have much choice. I still had 20 km of hiking ahead of me, and the day was getting warmer by the hour.

I kept descending. According to the route I had planned, I was supposed to leave the main trail, which continued in a different direction. On the map, there was a path connecting the two sections of the route. What could possibly go wrong?

At first, the path was clearly visible and easy to follow. But little by little, it started to disappear. There were tall bushes, fallen trees, steep slopes, and a stream full of slippery rocks. On top of that, the insects had apparently decided to make up for their absence earlier that morning.

In the end, though, the real challenge turned out to be the waterlogged parts of the forest hidden beneath a layer of moss. At first, they looked harmless. Until they weren’t. I had never come across anything like that in the Beskids.

Because of the steep terrain, there was no easy way around them. When I sank halfway up my calf yet again, I didn’t even try to pull myself out right away. I stopped fighting. As a form of protest. I’m just not sure against whom. Against nature? Against the maps for promising a path? Or against myself for not wanting to walk a few extra kilometers?

After a moment, I realized how absurd that line of thinking was and simply kept going. It still took me a while to stop muttering curses under my breath, though. Looking back, I see it very differently. I only remember the views from the summits in fragments. That section of the hike, on the other hand, I remember almost step by step.

The next few kilometers followed a pleasant contour path with uninterrupted views of the valley. For nearly 8 kilometers, I walked along an almost perfectly flat road and, surprisingly, passed very few people. Probably because it wasn’t an official hiking trail, but a fire road.

For some, a stretch like that might have felt monotonous. For me, it was exactly what I needed after the adventures earlier in the day.

I was slowly approaching the final destination of the hike. It was Sky Bridge—until recently, the longest suspension footbridge in the world. I usually avoid attractions like this. They tend to be expensive, commercial, and often look better in photos than they do in real life. This time, though, I decided to see it for myself.

I have to admit, the bridge is impressive. Especially when you're standing in the middle of it and begin to grasp the scale of the entire structure. Despite my fear of heights, I didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. The strongest emotions only came when I looked down through the metal grating beneath my feet and could see the bottom of the valley below.

The bridge seemed to have a life of its own as well. You don’t really notice it while walking, but all it took was focusing on a single point to see it gently swaying in the wind. The views were great, but were they really any better than the ones I had just enjoyed for free?

From there, all that remained was the descent into the valley and the walk back toward the parking area. It was only while following the paths below the bridge that I could truly appreciate the scale of Sky Bridge.

Around 4:30 pm, I arrived back at the parking lot. This time, it was almost empty. I spent a few moments resting, listening to the birdsong and looking out over the same valley I had been watching the evening before. A few minutes later, I started the drive home.

Along the way, I stopped in one of the towns I passed through to grab something to eat and take a short break before continuing the journey. I got home after 10 pm. Physically tired, but mentally refreshed. Happy.

That day, I covered 34 kilometers and climbed a total of 1810 meters of elevation. More than on any of my previous mountain trips. I’ll definitely return to Śnieżnik, but some sections of the route will probably remain a one-time adventure.