'The Hike' - Chapter One - I Should Start From The Beginning
Chapter One:
This is where my story begins. For the last 3 years, I have been postponing the translation of my adventure. But after my last hike in the Balkans, I found my muse and started collecting my thoughts and everything I wrote back then. You can follow my path through the Bulgarian Balkans, which lasted 24 days and completely changed the course of my life here. I will upload regularly about the days I spent up there, most of the time alone, while revisiting some of the greatest memories I created for myself. I really hope the translation works because I was much funnier in Bulgarian back then, and the slang I used is hard to follow. Furthermore, I hope this story serves as inspiration for people who are stuck, like I was, and badly need change—to fight addiction and burst the comfortable, uncomfortable bubble we often find ourselves in. During this journey, the main theme was fear, but looking back, I see that all I did was overcome it every time it tried to stop me.
I must pin this quest as the greatest adventure I have ever embarked upon. It is so deeply ingrained in my memory that I recall a lot of it vividly, and every time I revisit this memory, I feel a powerful sensation, a longing to relive it. I encountered many struggles along the way, and there were numerous occasions when I was on the brink of death; the closer I got, the more alive I felt. I met so many good people who never hesitated to help me when I needed them. My life took a new direction, and I followed it. Because of the decision to embark on a twenty-four-day hike in the Bulgarian Balkans, I met my partner, and three years later, we are thriving. We both undertook a smaller version of this hike the following year, and he completely grasped the feeling from it. Now, this journey serves as a compass for what I am chasing in terms of feeling and experiences. In order to explain that desire once more, I will attempt to chronicle exactly what happened so you can understand what keeps this ongoing feeling alive.
Day 0:
I should start from the beginning, right after the pandemic started and our lives changed. I had some trouble adjusting to the new reality. Usually, I had no problem spending time alone, but I was going through a rough break-up, and my drug addiction was spiraling badly. Both things tangled into one big mess that became my life.
As a fan of the movies 'Wild' and 'Into the Wild', both portraying such interesting characters dealing with their problems, searching themselves by going rogue alone into the wilderness, I found myself revisiting these movies and then researching the idea. First, I stumbled upon the five episodes of 'Kom-Emine: Solo' by Martin Stafanov, who was cool enough to give me some advice before I headed on my adventure. I immediately fell in love with this incredible hike, not having any idea what exactly was waiting for me. I guess the romantic in me is the driving force because Kom-Emine is the biggest hike in Bulgaria, around 600 km. This path is called the path of friendship because it is so long you create relationships on it.
I had been to some mountains, and I am a good walker, but nothing in my life prepared me for what lay ahead. Luckily, I had one friend who took me hiking just to show me what was coming my way. Of course, everywhere I went, I had drugs in me, so I was like a rocket, feeling invincible and ready to go. Due to the pandemic, I had to say goodbye to the firm I had worked for for three years. I had enough money for the trip, and the departure date was fast approaching. Ten days before my journey, my grandma passed away. Her condition kept her bedridden for three years; she couldn't move or speak. Even though my heart broke when she died, I felt relief for her because she was no longer suffering. Some say that when you care for someone who is dying for such a long time, after they pass away, you are able to move on easily because you took all that time to mourn them. It took me three years to overcome what happened, and when it did happen, I was ready to move on. Finally, that summer, without a job, without a clear future, I took my drug addiction and my broken heart, picked up my gigantic bag that was heavier than it should be, and left Sofia. Ten years in that town were enough; I had had enough of everything, and I was so ready to move on with this adventure. I remember traveling to Kom, where the hike begins with a train, having a smile and no patience to get off the train and to walk around.
Right after I stepped off the train in Berkovitza, I went for lunch. God, my bag was really heavy; everywhere I go now, the bag that I carry is smaller and smaller. It is still not the right weight, but it is adjusting, and it is decreasing with every trip I take. To be honest, my bag weighed around 20 kg or even more, and it had to be less than 10 kg. I had everything in it: a freaking fat blanket, a thick woolen blanket. Keep in mind that every hut along the way has enough blankets for hundreds of people, but no, I had to carry mine with me. Like I said, no experience whatsoever. After having some soup, I headed straight to the hut. The hike from the center of the town to the hut is around 5 hours, and it took me a lot of time to leave Berkovitza. Finally, I found myself in the forest on the path to the hut, and the first thing I spotted were two deer. The moment I spotted them, I felt something, like a feeling that I was on the right path. Maybe I am a little superstitious after all. The deer quickly scattered through the forest when the hutkeeper's car approached me on the way. They offered me a ride to spare me the 5-hour walk alone. Well, I gave them over 15 lv. We're good. Everything was in alignment, and I was feeling anxious for tomorrow, my true test. I stood outside the hut, drinking and drugging, waiting for someone even crazier than me to cross my path.
It was around 23:23. Before I came here I considered sleeping in the forest, but looking at it, that thought completely went away. The cold was intense, and I had to rise early at 5 a.m. tomorrow. And then, most likely, go back to bed. I don't have a pressing engagement. I just need to reach Irakli Beach around the 30th. For those who don't know, this hike starts from the westernmost point in Bulgaria, crosses the entire country, and concludes at the Black Sea in the east.
The sky was filled with stars, and despite the thunder and lightning from the ongoing summer storm, the temperature on the mountain eventually became tolerable. It was incredibly beautiful, but I felt fear that I would age prematurely if I were left alone in the forest. Time would tell. Every noise seemed amplified. The insects were giving me the creeps. There was a scuffle between two cats. If this had happened in an urban setting, it would've been different. I was still adjusting to this place. "We're newcomers" (in the voice of a gypsy transvestite). I just remembered something important that I forgot. I only truly realized it when I arrived. A jacket. A thick hat. A sweater. Everything necessary to prevent freezing to death. Even though it was summer, up there, it gets pretty cold pretty fast. Of course, I wasn't thinking about that. Toshko, if you're reading this, I'm grateful you lent me your mountain gear. Without it, I'd be left with two pairs of shorts, five t-shirts, swimming trunks, my hiking equipment, and the alcohol, which will probably run out by tomorrow. I tend to write a lot and lose my ability to speak when I've had too much to drink. I'm heading towards a 'God watches over the drunk' situation. And for now, everything seems to be in order.
Night 0:
Do you know what I was thinking about? About all the scary movies I've watched. Now, the idea of watching them doesn't sound so good. I'm predisposed here. The corridors of the hut differ from the dark forest only because I'm in them. FEAR. It provokes thought. That was the idea, to step out of the comfortable uncomfortable bubble and challenge myself. When you're in it, it's like you're on autopilot. And only when you burst it, you could change things up.
Day 1:
The view on the first morning....
The crazy guy who came late and who told me that he needs to see my bag before we agree that we will travel together left in the morning, without a word. He ghosted me in the middle of the night. He only needed one look at the backpack to realize it wouldn't work for him. The path of friendship, my ass. It was for the better.
In 3rd grade, we went on a class trip in this hut, and the teacher didn't let me climb to the top of the mountain because I was fat and wouldn't cope. I was determined to show her what I can do now that I'm slim. But with my kilograms gone, so was my orientation because instead of Kom Peak, I went in the direction of the next hut, and I totally missed the beginning of the path, which was not a good sign and not a good way to start. A young horse attacked me, young, young, 2 meters from those wilds in the thicket. In these situations, I immediately turn to God and become very religious quickly. He chased me a bit while I was praying to whoever was listening, but when the horse saw me struggling with my backpack, he laughed and left me be. Another favorite animal that went directly into the 'we'll eat meatballs tonight fellas' list. When I realized that I missed Kom Peak, I abandoned the idea of starting from the top. I abandoned the tradition with the two stones that you take with yourself, one to throw in the Black Sea when you arrive and the other to keep for yourself as a talisman. And even without those two stones, my bag was freaking heavy. My whole life was on my back, and it was heavy! The backpack grew every time I looked at it. I walked, I walked, I walked, I walked. Of course, there were cops asking me where I was going right after I stepped out on the Petrohan Pass. In order to get to the Proboynitsa, you have to cross it, so I explained my situation to them and quickly distracted them with a question about the guy who ghosted me this morning. They told me that he was here 2 hours ago and asked for my ID. I know they were just doing their job, but they didn't handle it well that day. Little did they know I was carrying my stash with me, enough just for 24 days in the mountain. I know, right? And I'm bad at math, but back then I was good at meth. I passed Petrohan, and although I don't recall much of the path here, I distinctly remember seeing Todorini kukli Peak. The peak was misty and damp, with clouds drifting past, revealing breathtaking views whenever the landscape cleared. It was another one of those moments of natural beauty when, despite the pain, you realize that you are on the right path and doing something worthwhile. In the middle of the path to Hut Proboynitsa, I decided to open the guidebook and read that the hut was closed and there was no water available. I questioned my sanity because, even though I was in the mountains and there was water here and there, I was drinking so fast that my thirst grew, and I was craving more water than I had in me. There was a moment where I didn't have water, dying for a sip. After a while, I found a small running stream, although calling it a stream is a stretch given the minimal amount of water there. I drank from the ground in order to survive. It was somehow scary, and I made a mental note never to hike without water again and to drink it in moderation. I'm 3.3 km from the hut that is closed. Why then did I walk for 50 minutes and still haven't seen it? I've never felt such pain. The heavy bag was killing me. It hurt everything, everywhere, all at once. My legs were about to give out. My shoulders were in the shape they've taken from the backpack and didn't move, even if I needed them to. The struggle was real. Once or twice, the thought of giving up crossed my mind, I am not going to lie.
I pitched the tent in the forest, and I was about to spend my first night alone in the middle of nowhere. My fear from the previous night was quickly becoming a reality. Someone left me some branches, and I had a fire for a couple of hours. I ate some nuts and muesli that I was carrying with me and mentally prepared for what was coming.
Three hours later...
Night 1:
I heard something, it was already dark. I was in the tent, ready to fight for my life. In one hand, I clutched the knife and the lighter. In the other, Rexona. I would have burned everything that approached me. I'm usualy an animal lover, but that night I was a firestarter. The plan was to roar and blind it with the headlamp. Then, I would light it up with the lighter and the deodorant, climb the tree, and if it approached me, burn it again. I fell asleep in the darkness super easily from exhaustion around 9. I didn't feel cold; the thought of the bear warmed me. The two things I was really afraid of during my trip and kept me awake the whole journey were having to deal with a bear or lightning.
I opened my eyes; it was still dark. I felt like I was asleep for twelve hours. I checked the time; it's right before midnight. Fuck. I probably woke up because I am developing a tradition of writing at this time. I wrote FEAR, and I went back to sleep. Some very large branches broke very close. Bear, I thought. I miss the corridors of the hut already. I squeezed the Rexona; it took me another hour before falling asleep. I kept hearing some couple arguing in the forest. A boy and a girl, but apparently, my consciousness transformed the sounds from the stream and the forest to calm itself. No one argues for so long in the forest and for such things or maybe that was the drugs. Nevermind, I open my eyes again and it was 3 in the morning. This first night alone in the dark was transformative; I will never forget how unprepared I was. The darkness that exists where there is no electricity is consuming. I fell asleep again, and around dawn, I was ready to go. My biggest fear now was how to pack this bag and how my back will carry it on the next 8-hour hike.
Iliya Badev
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