What the hell I was thinking?

Still Day 11: I sped up so I could get to the Arch and sit there for a while, to think about my next move. It took longer than expected—some things appear closer than they actually are, especially my goals. Every time I saw a hut from afar, thinking it would take just a little while to get there, it turned out to be at least two hours. Or when I saw a sign saying the hut was 30 minutes away, I prepared for an hour. I have to be careful—sometimes, setting a longer time limit makes me unconsciously fill that time to the last second, when in reality, a faster way existed. It's one of life's games we have to learn to maneuver—where and how to place our time, and for what or who. I was getting lazier. At this point, it was clear that I didn’t want to follow the book’s suggestion and get to Dobrila Hut. There were two huts before that, and I was stopping at the first one possible. I just didn’t feel like walking more than this, so I checked where Eagle’s Nest Shelter was and opened t...

Still Day 11: I probably got a huge energy boost from that cake because, from here, I was on. The lack of shadow and greenery didn’t bother me; the path had this ease. I enjoyed it immensely and played some music. Because the surroundings didn’t suggest a storm or a bear, I dived into my musical trance. Many people appeared, going in the same direction I came from, with a tempo that almost annoyed me. Probably for the cake. It turned out that those two huts were not that hard to access from the closest towns. People just came by car to the Arch of Freedom, and from there, they hit the road to here, drank a beer, and kept on with their lives. I went in reverse. I kept on with my life, drank a beer, and hit the road to the Arch of Freedom. While listening to one of my favorite songs —one that quickly became an anthem to this day and memory—I was jumping up and down the path like a goat. As I was giving way to the poor families who seemed like they’d never been to a mountain before, I tho...

Day 11:  I woke up from the sound of a fart, scaring me out of my uncomfortable sleep. So I rolled myself a cigarette and went smoking. It was 4 in the morning, and I was the only one awake. After the cigarette disappeared, I thought that it was too early to do anything—at least too early for my majesty. So went back inside and I lay on the bench in the kitchen, and as my soul tried to fall back asleep, as I was getting into a comfortable position and state of mind to do so, the kitchen door opened, hitting the wall. I opened my eyes, explaining directly the harsh situation of how I was left here to sleep to some stranger who wanted sugar for his tea. He just made a face and left the kitchen to me. From this point, there was no sleeping. Ten by ten, the groups started their day on top of mine, and I decided to collect myself and leave early this time and see what that was about for a change. The next hut was super close—Kozia Stena. I opened the book and researched my next move. Th...

Still Day 10: I got to the fountain, where I recharged my water supplies and rolled myself a cigarette. I didn’t see anyone around, so I powdered my nose for additional energy, and after sitting for a while, smoking a couple of cigarettes, I took my bag from the stone bench and went on my way. The road continued to be perfect—slight elevation, beautiful scenery, and me alone to enjoy it. Soon after, I saw the hut parallel to my position and started making a left turn. To get there, I had to make this turn, which turned out to be the scariest thing I did that day. I still had an hour, maybe more, to reach safety, and although I saw the building, the day was slipping away. During this hour, there were places where the path became so dangerous that my head started spinning. Given how heavy my bag was, one unfortunate step could mean I’d experience flying for a couple of seconds before it ended in my unfortunate death. Man, you just wake up and feel alive when your life is in that kind of ...

Still Day 10: Here, to be honest, after a beer, one liter of water, and soup, I felt a little out of it. Going up a mountain straight after such a quick meal with so much liquid inside you is not a particularly smart idea, but I don’t think I ever mentioned that I am smart. Anyway, immediately after I entered the forest, I was amazed once again by the sublime and ever-changing nature around me. The ground looked drained of moisture, but the scenery was thriving under the hot August sun. I firmly believe that this is the most beautiful of all the beautiful paths I’ve taken on this adventure and one of the easiest to walk through. The climbing was actually just walking, and with that slight elevation, I was able to observe and enjoy the picturesque beauty of my country—something I cannot wait to see again. The real beauty of the path to Echo Hut begins after you leave the enchanted forest. There, the trees make way for the view, and in the distance, you can see Echo Hut. Sometimes this t...

Still Day 10: For the past three years of her life, my poor grandma was chained to a bed by her strokes, unable to move or speak. The pain she endured during this time not only broke us but destroyed her. Her passing from this world showed me another scary part of life—one I hadn’t thought about until it happened. Something to look forward to, I thought as I entered the forest. There, under the shadows, after my mind took me on a journey through my recent past, it once again wandered—exploring other parts of myself as I was exploring the mountain ahead. This is the part of life that gives meaning to all of it. Death. The one peak you can’t overcome. After my grandma’s passing, the relief we experienced was unsettling. It was a very unusual feeling. I found out it was common to mourn a person long before they actually pass when they’ve been in a condition like my grandma’s. In that time, family members work through their pain, say their goodbyes, cry a lot—preparing for the inevitable....

Still Day 10: You should be careful about how you consume water in the mountains. There is a possibility of triggering an unbearable thirst that will drain all your supplies and leave you wanting more—dehydrated. Even though I was at the beginning of my journey that day, the dusty road under the scorching August mountain sun played tricks on my mind, making me revisit memories I once dreaded. Right before I started walking this path, I had a routine check-up for STDs and was absolutely healthy—a great feeling to experience after visiting your doctor. The other day, I went to the dentist, and he told me that everything was fine, which blew my mind. I mean, it was a confirmation that I was doing something right, but let’s get back on the road. Unfortunately, gay health culture in Bulgaria is not in great shape—it just isn't. I still know people who have no idea what PrEP is. Although the first lecture I attended about the gay Manna was in Bulgaria, people still don't realize how...

        A photo of the  tiny bathroom of my tiny apartament ...  Night 9: Sleeping alone in the middle of nowhere under the influence of some paranoid, stimulating drugs can seriously fuck you up. After I ate everything, smoked, drank a couple of beers, and took a shower, I was so ready to fall asleep on the soft beds. Still, sleeping alone in a room with 30 more beds around you brought some fears. Maybe it was just the drugs, or maybe all the movies and horror books that played with my imagination because I fell asleep watching the corners of the room, looking for something that wasn’t there. A couple of times, I woke up, feeling the malignant presence of something in the room, only to open my eyes and realize it was just my imagination—at least, I hoped so. No one was in the big room, and no one wanted to harm me. Probably the wild animals in the forest feel the way I did every night when I had to sleep out alone or in a similar situation. To be honest, I...

                                                                                                                      A photo of the meal ...  Day 9: Benkovski Hut is one of the oldest, if not the oldest hut in Bulgaria, and it's so fucking far down the hill that, once again, I was cursed to descend and kill the inertia I had gathered. I never learn. I walked forward across the fields with short grass, amazed by all the beautiful scenery around me. Maybe that's one of the reasons I love being in the mountains so much—the view, the lack of sound, the clean air. It’s a no-brainer that someone would want to be here. Even an amateur like me ...

        The  Fountain of the Five Spouts ...  Still Day 9: I love walking alone on the top of the mountain, where you can look in every direction at the vast, misty horizons—amazed by the path you took behind you and stunned by the one ahead.  It's one of my favorite things to do: just walk on the short grass at the top and exist in the sunny, quiet day, especially after a night of scary, dark, stormy weather. The nice breeze gently moves the weeds on the ground and makes the heat of the sun just barely bearable. Precious moments that I carry with me, like fuel, pushing me to do crazy shit like this adventure again and again. While I was enjoying that and minding my own business, I saw a group of people going in the same direction as me. They were from Gabrovo, and I remembered that one of the guys I had traveled with earlier was Miro Cucko from Gabrovo. He was certain that if you asked anyone in Gabrovo about him, they would know who he was. So, I ask...

Day 9: I woke up early, fresh as a daisy. I made myself a quick coffee and my morning powder line, and I was ready to go. As I was packing my stuff and moving the barricade of benches back to their places, I realized that I had survived another night in the middle of nowhere. I felt happy and optimistic—right until I looked at how much I needed to climb back to be where I was before the storm. I started walking in that direction, and the path split in two. One would take me back to where I came from—back, but up there. The other was an imaginative shortcut through the mountain that I thought would save me some hours on the long way to the top. The real one had signs and everything I needed not to get lost and die. Mine, on the other hand, was mainly formed by positive thinking and laziness. I took the one I created and went with it, puffing another cigarette that almost suffocated me. What is up with cigarettes and fresh air? They seem even tastier up in the mountains. While struggling...