In the morning around 7 o’clock we pack our baggage and consider, where to leave the car for next 6 days. No smart solution comes so we set to the crossing thinking, that it will solve. Also that it solves. After arrival along a hardly drivable field way full of snow the border crossing, which consists from 2 modules, a hand driven tollgate and a solar collector, seems to be abandoned. After a moment a window opens and there’s a surprised likeable officer. He horrified says something like: „No car, it´s impossible, albanian way is katastrofa (disaster)“, so we arrange the parking right by the crossing. Concerned if we ever see the car again, we set off with packpacks about 35 kg, clipped skis, in ski boots and in relatively strong snow storm to Albanian window. Everything is alright do we move on. Just behind the tollgate ends the broken asphalt, followed by a half-meter vertical threshold and after next 20 metres, the way suddenly drops down for two metres into a dry river bed. We wade there for a half kilometer and we come across a river and first albanian building, which starts an Albanian to us from. He right holds our hands and drags us into his house, we’re trying to resist his agresive but very hearty sort of hospitality.

The whole communication (he albanian, we czech or English) circle longs for endless 20 minutes and we make to go on without any conflict. The problem is, that we have to over a fence or to wade trough a river. We choose the fence, where is for this purpose built a stair (first three photos from the borderland are from the way back when was nice weather and we could make photos). After another 2 km we die under the weight so we make a break in a lee ahead of a dilapidated bridge over wild canyon of the river. The way is then qiute good, it’s not aphalt but it is passable. We walk for another two hours through a rocky narrow canyon, the snow is accruing so at the canyon’s end where we find a lee, we finally put on our skis, we skin and the whole time rising a lot. After the canyon, there is the last village ahead the mountains, Lepusha. The plan is clear, not to stop anywhere and speed along the village unnoticed. Local people are quite curious, they have enough time and they show a lot of worry about strangers which go to the mountains. They have big respect from the mountains and we can’t wonder, due to their equipment. By the first houses is somebody screaming at us again, so we increase our rate. After 500 m we meet a bunch of boys, which bear on their backs in that wind huge packs of hay, following by and agresive dog, which after a moment drag I on my rear skin’s grip. Mára gathers courage and tries to take photos here and there. We have calm for another 2 km, in half-meter tracks we meet a fully occupied, new, shiny Nissan, we make a few words with a passenger, who speaks English. They doesn’t look local – maybe the local mafia, which circles the local houses and collects protection money. We make a break and gather power for the last hard task – to pass through the village center (pub, multipurpose football pitch/pigs and cattle paddock, school). Just by the pub we meet our old friend, 13-years-old Sebastian, who managed me in the summer to park here, near a pig shed and he tempts us to a coffee. We refuse and we promise to come over in 5 days on our way back. Remember the name Sebastian, he will be mentioned in part three.

I speed up, because I see curtains in the school moving. Mára is taking some pictures and hesitates, meanwhile I disappear in a forest above the village. From the school runs around 20 children of very varied age range to Mára and they investigate. One quaternion makes a row along the ski and they‘re by their hands searching, why are the skis sloping up. Mára handles with overview the situation, takes photos and I’m having fun a bit above him in the forest. We slope up traversing steeply up and the wind reaches blasts of 20-25 m/s. Around 3 in the afternoon we pass a place where the slope lies, trees are cracking and we speculate what do we do next. The upper we go, the more brutal the wind is. In the forest there’s a lot of snow and there’s an opportunity of a deep burrow. So we look for „the safest“ place it something falls down. We dig a burrow, melt the snow, cook and go sleep, with chances to the next day, because the sky is suppose to be clear. In continuing gale and crackle of trees we wake up to a new day. The sky is clear, that’s the good new. The wind didn’t stop, that’s worse. After a short fight between will and body, we introduce the concept of the rate of the fuckness and it’s scale and we set off. We walk from the forest to meadows and behind the ridge we can see the rocky massif of the mountains. We move hardly to the ridge, the wind throws us down a few times. To get up in the wind with all this baggage is quite rough, what’s more, because of the avalanche we have distance between us so we fight with that on our own and in safe places and in lees (2 in sum) we make short stops. We can’t rest long, it’s cold. We finally reach the ridge, excited with the downhill I fall on ma mouth just after start. It’s not how I thought with the wind and the backpack :D. The downhill to the picturesque valley changes after a short time to a fight with vegetation in increasingly rocky and narrowing trough. The rate of fuckness is increasing and after a few falls and involuntary downhills with skis up through still more rocky trough, the rate is about to reach the max. We finally managed to get out. Loses are low, torn and lost handle for camera on the helmet and slightly tattered some parts of equipment. The valley is beautiful and there are a few abandoned and open chalets in it. We spend next hour by choosing one of them as our camp for the rest of the days so we could travel light. There’s more than a meter of snow in most of them. So we choose the cleanest room, which is a loft-room of the biggest chalet, with entering from outside over 3 stairs. Here we build a tent. We have some snack and I’m going to try the first line here by the sunset. Mára is shooting. (In generally we were shooting the downhills the whole time, that’s why there are no photos of it and hopefully there will be some video soon, although it seems that the material doesn‘t worth anything – little experience.) After my arrival we get into our sleeping bags and we deal with everyday several-hours rutine of melting snow, cooking... We fall asleep aroung 10 o’clock.

Text: Svoby&Mara