Smelý Ďurko (zajko) v Afrike alebo dobrodružná naháňačka po Dračích chrbtoch...

Pozriem sa posledný krát po izbe, pohľad spočinie na posteli, gauči i stolíku zapratenému haldou kníh o dobrodružných hrdinstvách úplne obyčajných ľudí. Odvážlivcov, greenhornov, ľudí ktorých hnala túžba po neznámych diaľavách, po nepohodlí a nebezpečenstve.
 Ako dlho to tu neuvidím? Štyridsať dní.
Tak šup hátyžák na plecia, stopársku tabuľku do ruky a hurá do sveta! Prah a teplo domova zostalo za mnou, predo mnou sú neočakávané zvraty a dobrodružstvá v horúcej Južnej Afrike spolu s Avaxiášom.

Stopom na rýchlik do Bratišky, kde som prespal a na druhý deň pokračoval do Prahy. Večer plný odhodlania nasadám do lietadla Turkish Airlines, pravda, trošku sa bojím, predsa len občas sa niekto v tom Instanbule odpáli a pobere zo sebou za nič nemôžucich ľudí, nuž, ale sú o 100e lacnejší! Na letisku si nájdem čo naodľahlejší kút kde chrním do pol druhej rána. Teda chrním, len ležím a to je dobre, pretože telefón akosi nepochopil časový posun a teda budíček ktorý ma mal zobudiť na lietadlo, vrčí až vtedy, keď sme ďaleko nad Stredozemným morom. Ej, to by bola zbytočná sranda!

21.2. Pristávame v Džej-brrgu (Johannesburgu) v úplnej deke až po zem z ktorej vypadáva dosť veľa zrážok. Čo to, do diabla rožkatého, má znamenať?!
Pierre ma vyzdvihne a ledva zložím bagáž, už aj ma šikuje na lezeckú stenu, spolu s Jeremym a mojím bolehlavom, potím krv, však stenu ani skalu som neliezol ani nepamätám a to radšej ani nechcem vedieť číslo leziek, ktoré mi požičal P.
22.2. leje ako z krhly, sedím u Pierra na gauči a študujem mapy, pozerám dokumenty o RB X-alps na ktorých bol...
23.2. Leje ako z krhly, mením dukáty, večer na stenu. Stretneme sa tam s JAR víťazom PWC v dávnych dobách okolo milénia, keď to bola ešte dosť prdel.
"how is your name?" (Ako sa voláš?)
"Juraj...I am Juraj, same as George in English" (Juraj...ja som Juraj, to je ako George po anglicky)
"EY! I know one Juraj, little bit crazy, but really fantastic and talented pilot, from...Slovania?" (Ey! Ja poznam jedneho Juraja, trošku šialeného, ale skutočne fantastického a talentovaného pilota...zo Slovanie :D)
"Slovakia you mean?" (Slovensko si myslel?)
"Yes, his surname was KLEJA." Ach či je ten svet malý...a škoda že je bez Kleju :/

24.2. Zdrhám do Drakensbergu dážď-nedážď. Šoférovi bazz-bus-u sa akosi nezdá, že chcem vystúpiť kdesi úplne mimo a ísť do Hôr bez sprievodcu, akosi pozabudol že sa tak isto čudoval aj
minulý rock a keĎ mu to spomínam, smejeme sa spolu... Po piatich kilometroch precházky som mokrý ako...asi ako Mokrý Ďuro. Rozložím teda Gotland a ležím v Chamonix spacáčiku už o štvrtej
poobede. JE to zlé, vody je strašne veľa, už P (Pierre Carter) spomínal, že si takéto dlhotrvajúce dažde nepamätá a najmladší veru nie je. Po kravských chodníčkoch sa valia potoky, na
plošinkách sú mláky jak svet...zase je to taký kadejaký, len nie ideálny výlet. Pospal som si hodinku a ako sa zotmelo, dážď ustal.

25.2. Aj keď ráno fučí ostrý západný, pofrontálny vietor, zberám sa ďalej, totiž presvitá modrá obloha! Motám sa dlho krkahájmi a stržami ale keď o 9:25 prvý krát odštarujem, vytočím do 2300m!
To už je iná paráda, 300m nad kopec. Doletím až na prvý otočný bod nadchádzajúcich pretekov X-berg.

 Na vrchol sa nechám avaxiášom ťahať ako kajtom a prihodí sa mi celkom strastiplná situácia:
Avaxiášik padol na zem, z ktorej sa okamžite ozvalo sipenie a vytrčila sa tmavá hlava s takým vejárom podobným kobre, vietor sa znovu oprel do padáku a milého metrového hadiska aj s
vyplazeným jazykom a vycerenými zubiskami katapultovala napínajúca sa šnúra do vzduchu. Predvádzajúc divné, poväčšinou rotujúce figúry, nevie či ho berie orol do pazúrov a končí sa jeho
život alebo je to len blbý sen. Ja nie som na tom o nič lepšie. Srdce bije o život, ruky sa trasú a oči sledujú hentú hadio-dračiu potvoru plachtiacu-sipiacu vzduchom asi meter, nanajvýš
 dva od ustráchanej blonďavej hlavičky Ďurifukovej. Rýchlosťou cestovateľskej hnačky, bežím s padákom v ruke na druhú stranu ako sa potvora odlazila. (len pre vysvetlenie: bol to jedovatý
had mamba, ktorý keď ťa cvakne, si do pol hodiny tuhý ako dubový klát, tak mi vraveli miesťnaci). Nevadí, je to za mnou a predo mnou sú dve skalnaté terasy ktoré si dám s padákom v kvete rovno hore.

Na vrchole sledujem supy a suším mokré topánky. O pol jedenástej štartujem a síce zhnijem až 30m nad takú rovinku, vystrelí ma až do 3000m. Ajéj! Som zahojený. Nie tak rýchlo, bratku Európanku,
troj až päťmetrové klesáky ma pribijú po jedenástich kilometroch na zem. Vyšliapem prvý kopec, spadnem hnilá hruška horko-ťažko vykráčaných 150m, lebo sa vietor zvrtol o 160°. Vyšliapem znova a pokračujem na hrebeň ku hotelu kde sa dá odpáliť na V, SV. Dám si odporný burger a kolu, doplním soli a vody a pokecám s Maďarmi od Komáromu, čo tu boli trekkovať. KeĎ im poviem žehore budem za 20minút, smejú sa. Reku kukajte...a Ďuri(je hneď)fuk. Letím zo 15km popod závoj z búrky až pristanem na peknej plošinke v 2000m. Rozbijem tábor v nádeji na skorý zajtrajší štart a svahovanie nádherných tisíc metrov vysokých útesov Dračích hôr a preletom do 50km vzdialeného cieľa.

26.2. Celú noc prší a hrmí a leje a mrholí a blýska sa alebo ešte leje :D. Pochválen buď gotland. Zrazu mám kopec času, kreslím si, píšem nápady a postrehy, počúvam L+S. Dajako tá predpoveď
nevyšla! Jem dve sušené porcie za deň. Môžem sledovať mračná, počúvať hučiacu riavu, ktorá padá z útesov Lesotha.

Nemám žiaden signál, ach ten pokoj. Hodinu zabijem len brúsením si dlhých
nechtov o kameň, nebolo nožničiek. Som strašne hladný, tuším že sa mi lepšie 10h mordujem v horúčave s batohom ako sedí v stane. Došla voda tak si z ponča zrobím zberač dažďovej vody a chlípem ju furt aby som mal plný žalúdok a necítil tak hlad.

27.2. Zobudím sa na presvitajúce slnko, vyskočím zo stanu ako pojašený. Po piatich minútach sa zatiahne a tak to zostane. Nemám čo jesť lebo mi došiel plyn a oheň z mokrej trávy neurobím.

 Napaprčený zletím v mraku dole a idem na stopa do cieľa, kde bývajú P. rodičia, 85-90r. Najprv ma berú dovolenkujúci Nemci, potom černoška v BMW, potom ten istý šofér, ktorý ma pred troma
dňami bral bazz-bus-om. Spoznal ma podľa batoha a širáka, keď rozprávam osadenstvu, ktoré sa uspokojí cvakaním zrkadlovkou cez okná dodávky, svoje zážitky, híkajú od údivu aj od toho ako zapácham iba po troch dňoch. Potom ešte pár miesťňakov v pick-upoch a som na mieste.

28.2. Dnes to asi pôjde letieť! Vybehnem si ráno na Matterhorn (ten v JAR) a lietam, točím a teším sa. Nádherné, príkre a zelené hrebene, nebotyčné skaliská a nekonečné planiny. Ty koňo, to je něco!

 Akos a to začína prevyvíjať, pristanem pod 3000vkou a škriabem sa nahor. Svah ako svet a začínam chápať, prečo sú tie opice tu, kde nie sú stromy, však si úplne vystačia s lezením po tých skalách!
Zletím do doliny, ledva sa stihnem trošku najesť a hneď je tu P, ktorý musí ešte aspoň raz letieť a teda utekáme na Matterhorn znovu na zlet pri západe slnka.

1.3. vyrazíme ku štartu, pripravovať banery a všetko ostatné, o 11. letíme. Nádherne to nosí do 3000m, vietor drží a ja si to rúbem nebesiami s P. a supmi. Naskýtajú sa výhľady hodné bohov.
Všetky tie bralá, hrebene, vodopády...všetko podo mnou, sú to nádherné  a úchvatné scenérie!

Sú to tak nepochopiteľné tvary, že proste len čumím jak Čumil z kanála. Neviem kam sa skorej pozerať, však posúďte sami.

Priletím nazad akurát načas, vzadu to už zase ide do búrky, v tých vysokých kopcoch. Zajtra začíname!

2.3. X-berg deň prvý: PRásk a utekáme, po 5 kilometroch stúpame na hrebeň, kde čím skôr štartujeme. Malými poskokmi sa dostávame na 2200m vysoký TP1. Letíme znova, dlho trvá, kým sa podarí niečo nastúpať, ja bublinu nevyužívam v obave že ma zatiahne do závetria kde po pristátí nie je možné dostať sa späť na hrebeň cez 100m vysoké útesy. Tak čakám, P. to skúsil, letím za ním po 20minútach aj ja.

PReletím pár kilometrov a pristávam, utekám na kopec, ktorý sa volá kopa cukru (sugar Loaf) malý a príkri a do toho je tam ešte ostatý drôt, ale odštartujem to. Nastúpam, vietor sa mení a ja vyhnívam o 500m ďalej.

Čakám na skale z ktorej sa inak ako letom nedostanem, príde prífuk a tak skúšam. Dlho to trvá, ale nastúpam, letím ďalej. Búrka, ktorá sa medzičasom vyvinula v horách, tieni a mení vietor znova na V
Presvahujem kilometer, trošku si prišľapnem, znova štartujem. Zrazu ma nadvihne nad hrebeň a kilometer odo mňa rve blesk povetrie, no tak toto nie. Pristávam a ledva si stihnem spraviť úkryt z chudáka Avaxiáša.

Moknem v daždi, okolo plieskajú hromy-blesky asi hodinu. Potom sa to prehnalo a môžem sušiť Avaxiáša. Rozfúkava sa a idem na to, svah drží, pokračujem za roh.

Nedrží, nie je kde pristáť! Vlastne je, v 70° svahu a podarí sa to. 3tverám sa najprv trávnatým úbočím, postupne zľahka prechádzajúceho do skalnej steny. Musím ju preliezť, bez ističa, lana, friendov, leziek, mádža...adrenalín ale funguje. Nadopuje moje chabé telo k výkonom. Desať metrov som dal ako nič, do sedielka sa spúšťam vysiac celou váhou na jednej ruke v ktorej zvieram kriak, totiž všetko ostatné (skaly) vypadáva.

 Rozhúpem sa, pretože do sedielka z ktorého padajú svahy takmer kolmo dolu, musím doskočiť. Chvíľka napätia a bim, podarilo sa. Yeah, rock-n.roll! Pozriem hore na to čo som zliezol, ajné, a čaká ma tri razy toľký grúň aby som sa dostal k ceste.

 Už nenatáčam, ale je to tiež pecka, ak by som sa šmykol, padám tak 100-200m po zvislici by som niečo trafil. Nevadí, adrenalín to vyriešil, rozklepem sa až na ceste, keď doúčinkuje. Škoda že ma taká malá blbosť stála toľko času a energie, všetci ma predbehli!



Na TP2 dôjdem peši, chytro rozbalím a skáčem žabími skokmi z hrebienka na hrebeň, fučiac ako parná lokomotíva si s padákom v ruke prišľapnem vždy 100-200m. Termika je zabitá množštvom zrážok, ktoré spadli ale aj tak sa presúvam pomerne rýchlo. Pristávam do protisvahov a čudujem sa že stále nemám vyvrtnutý členok ani nohy vylámané. Večer zletím až do doliny v nádeji, že uvidím miesto, kediaľ sa vydriapem cez 100m vysoké skalnaté útesy, ktoré ma oddeľujú od TP3. Nepodarilo sa, prišla tma. Urobím si z paličiek a avaxiášika stan a ľahám doň, hladný a unavený. O pol desiatej sa zobudím na treskot prichádzajúcej búrky,
zbalím Avaxa a utekám v totálnej tme, s telefónom v ruke (čelovku som kdesi zapatrošil) lúkami a potokmi, zliezam hrozné prahy, brodím rieku. V dedine klopkám na dvere a štvrté mi otvorí Antoaine, dá mi deku a ukáže miestnosť kde je matrac že môžem chrňať, nič nenaspím. Ale som aspoň nezmokol.

2.3. X-berg druhý deň Vychádza slnko, ale hneď zmizne v cirroch. Nejaká fronta prišla, ale hádam zletieť sa bude dať. Vydriapem sa medzerou medzi skalami na útesy a rozbaľujem do 3ms S vetra.
Odštartujem a čoskoro zisťujem že to bol len valček zo závetria...a poriadneho, postávam, cúvam, speedujem a la krab. Dá mi to zabrať ale preletel som 8km.

Pri rieke pristanem, brodím sa na ressuply point močiarmi. Stretnem tam Duncana Kotzeho, nabifľuje ma predpoveďou z ktorej som aj tak jeleň, dá mi jabko a banán a idem tahet. Po hodine sa dostanem do sedielka kde prefukuje z V a vyzerá to, že si budem môcť skrátiť cestu vzduchom. Presvahujem 3km a som vďačný ako dieťa.

Prišľapem 200m a letím v okne ktoré sa spravilo. Pár sto metrov ďalej a pribije ma o zem, znova skúšam a na tretí raz mi dôjde že vietor sa už zvrtol na V a že som v závetrí.

Došliapem do 2400m a fuk do pekného, 7ms vetra. Svahuje dračie chrbáty a tie ma z rozmaru vypľujú do 3000m. Kĺžem proti vetru na TP4.

Ťuknem ho a pokračujem, vietor silnie, stupáky slabnú, prebijem sa ešte niekoľko kilometrov Ďalej a sadám do závetria za ujúkania dvoch žienok z kmeňa Zulu, ktoré nerozumejú ako som mohol padnúť z oblohy.

Balím a v horúčave šliapem na hrebeň (prvý krát od začiatku preteku mám suché nohy!), ktorý ak sa podarí, podrží ma až na TP5 a TP6. Neskoro, kým hore vyjdem, v predu prší a hromy bijú a za mnou tomu nie je inak. Zletím v húľave na plnom speede o rýchlosti 16kmh.

Nastávajú galeje. Kráčam na plnú paru chodníkom ktorý je zarastený a čoskoro je mokrý (nohy vydržali suché 2h!). Na TP6 je to vzduchom 6 km a prepytujem idem to päť hodín! V tme, len s telefónom za bedrovým pásom. Nikde žiadna značka, ba čo viac, samá kriačina, mokrý ako pes, dookola sa nielen voda leje ale aj statočne blýska a fúka. Je mi zima a nevládzem, hladný som ale zastať nemôžem, lebo by som úplne skrehol.
Mordujem sa až do pol deviatej, kedy strácam chodník a tak idem nazdarboh nocou a bušou rovno za šípkou. Preleziem skaly, húštiny a nejaký plot, podarí sa mi cez akúsi záhradu konečne dosiahnuť dedinu a asfaltovú cestu, kde to poznám.
Neviem koľko krát som chcel umrieť a vzdať sa, ale nejako som to vydržal. Bránou z národného parku (vyzerá jak z Jurského) vychádzam minútu pred tým ako ju zamkli, to si neviem predstaviť ako by som elektrickú a 10m vysokú bránu preliezal v takom stave. Dotrmácam sa nakoniec až do domu P. rodičov kde ako starý Bill hovoril, som len padol polomŕtvy cez dvere dnu. Nedal som to do cieľa, chýba mi jeden OB. Zajtra to dám!

Ráno, unavený z Ďalšej prebdetej noci a so suchými topánkami (vydržali 18 minút) driapem sa na Matterhorn v nádeji, že na otočák to zletím. Nie tak britko, mladý pánko, rečie aioilos a zastrie zem hmlou. Otočím sa,
nechcem riskovať let IFR keď neviem ako je to dolu s lúkami. Stratil som aj flašku, bo tak sa šmýka na tej krepej africkej červenozemi, že padám každých 100m. Doteperím sa na otočný bod a už len do cieľa...8km ako letí vrana.
Ale to tu je trošku zradné, včera som menšiu vzdialenosť šiel 5 hodín! Teraz tomu nie je inak, členky vylamujú hrče trávy, skaly, šmýkam sa a padám. Kľajem a trpím a pokračujem. Zleziem do doliny a nájdem krásnu prašnú cestu, ktorá sa ale kľukatí a vracia nazad do kopca. Nieeee! Keď sa konečne doteperím aj na asfaltku ktorá je síce priama, ale pekelne tvrdá. Do cieľa idem ešte dlho, trpiac ale predsa, si finálnu rovinku odšprintujem. Ragnarok skončil. Som rád že je to za mnou.
Celkovo som tretí, medzi padáčkarmi druhý, prvý je Pierre.
Bol to závod kedy som znova načrel hlavne do psychických rezerv, zistil som že aj keď nevládzem, môžem ísť ešte tri krát toľko. Zistil som že liezť som nezabudol a nejaké sólovanie nie je na škodu. Otestoval som nové paličky od Zaja a užil pár krásnych chvíľ osamote v "divočine" :D /spešne som prestopoval zo sto kilometrov, videl hada lietať i spal u miestnych černoškov a stále som živý a zdravý...príjemné!
Je deväť hodín večer a o hodinu už aj rušám na lietadlo...do Nepálu! Čo ma čaká? Aké neočakavané problémy? Aké zvraty, situačné a či tráviace? V batôžku mám nového Aspena6, ktorý po návrate čaká na svojho novšieho majiteľa.
Fakt sa teším, na tie koruny zemegule, na tie nebotyčné svätyne, kam sa dokážu v zápase s podmienkami prebojovať len tí najsilnejší. No ja to ani tento krát nebudem. Budem len potichu plachtiť a využívať vedecké poznanie a premieňať ho na vzdialenosť a hormóny šťastia. Užívať si slobodu úchvatných, trojrozmerných priestorov atmosféry....V tom mi Aiolos pomáhaj!


Tu je ešte pár fotiek, nezaradených:

Útok na Alpy (a slovenské predsedníctvo...)

Minulý rock sme sa so Šulákom vybrali k Rajčanovi, ktorého základňa je v talianskych Dolomitoch

neďaleko Merana. Tentoraz Šulák nemal dovolenku a tak sa zmagoril na úlet tatranský spolulezec Marek.

Oktávka plná lyží, cepínov, mačiek, foťákov a padákov dávala tušíť mäsitú nádielku dobrodružstva. Interval dobrého počasia mal byť naozaj dlhý, nuž sme sa pripravili na všetko a aj keď viac ako tri dni sme v Itoške byť nemohli.

Už prvý bol šťavnatý. Celučickú-celú noc za volantom...ale ten pohľad ráno. Pred očami sa nám vypína 1300m prevýšenia zo severnej strany Marmolady.  Rozhodli sme sa staviť po ceste k Rajčimu, že reku budeme unavení z cesty, skúsime niečo ľahšie a keďže mal fúkať slabý severík aj v tri a pol tisícoch, zletíme. 

Pri aute fučí statočný juh, ale hovorím si, hádam sa to zmení....hádam sa to otočí.

Batohy na chrbty a poďho do lopoty. Najsamprv pár metrov po vyjazdenej ceste, trošku popod lanovku a začína peklo. Odbočujeme totiž mimo zjazdovku a sneh je miestami nafúkaný, miestami vyfúkaný, miestami sa prepadáva ako kurz rubľa a to strašne rozhadzuje krok. Tri kroky to podrží, štvrtý  sa prepadne tak do pol lýtka, piaty už po koleno a unavuje to viac ako by sa patrilo. Do toho vyše desaťkilogramový batoh a mesiac zaháľania po operácii kolena, Marek zase bez spánku rovno po fajronte šoféroval 8 hodín. Jednoducho sme na blato ešte sme ani nezačali.

 Hodiny ubiehajú, metre pribúdajú, krása sa nám pred očami mihotá. Občas sa mi to všetko mihoce až tak, že sa mi zužuje zorné pole, to asi preto že som smädný ako Odin na polceste do Valhally, došiel už čaj vrchol je ešte ďaleko.  V strmom žľabe sneh nedrží ani máčny mak, pol kroku sa vždy prepadneme nazad...no nedáme sa ocigáňniť, na druhej strane širokého žľabu sa mi marí, že by to mohlo byť aj vyfúkané do tvrda. A bodaj ho, aj tak je.

Sú dve hodiny a o severnom vetre v 3000m ako hlásala predpoveď, ani nechyrovať. Éj, takto sa nechať okabátiť!

Spolu s kyslíkom ubúda aj nádej, ono na tandeme, v takej výške, na snehu a s bočným, či vetrom do zad, sa naozaj neradno zahrávať. Kutrám vo svojej makovici spomienky z 2014 Fasa Expo, keď som si na Marmoške tak fasa pristál ako asi 4589 a to celé na druhú ostatných pilotov. Pôjde to na ten juh? Však je tam skala ako do samotného pekla strmá, miesta málo, tandem je veľký. 

Ono nie že by sme to nemohli aj zliezť nazad ku kočiaru po vlastných, ale bez vody, s boľavou hlavou a slabý ako vrecúškový čaj, mno, to si koledujem o expresný presun do večných lovíšť (plachtíšť).

Tristo hrmených aj s vetrom, zvrtol sa na vrchole na taký SV-V, to by možno aj šlo. Rozbalíme sa, cepíny a mačky do batohov aby sme sa nedodriapali navzájom. 

"Marek, bojíš sa? Ak nie, je najvyšší čas sa začať !"

A fuk do toho, keby sa nám nepodaril štart, neviem neviem, mohol by tandem spadnúť bokom na svah, začať sa šúchať po snehu dole a ťahať nás za ním...hlbina je tam poriadna...

...ale zvládli sme to, letíme!

Perfektné výhľady na Dolomity všade navôkol, kontúry skál vystupujú v podvečernom svite, farby sú viac ako úchvatné...a hnáty omŕzajú.

Pristátie do protisvahu a vetru z kopca stekajúcemu ako riava, za chrbtom mrazivé jazero a síce to naznačuje istú dávku žúža, ale nakoniec to dopadlo dobre.

Celkom ma to dostalo, hltám vodu a sedím v aute vo vyhrievaných sedačkách ako kôpka nešťastia...nohy sú na prášky, hlava tiež, to bola rozcvička na zahriatie? (nad 2000m som bol naposledy v Gruzínsku)

Večer pri ohnivej vode spolu s Rajčim preberáme a špekuľujeme čo na druhý deň,  letieť sme leteli, pome dačo poliezť! Nuž voľba padla na "dvojdĺžkový" ľad pod Veneziaspitze, kde som mal minulý rok svoju ľadovú premiéru.

Rozbitý sa vymotáme z domu až o štvrť na desať, pod ľadom sme o 12tej. Prvú ťahám ja, celkom ma trasie, ono tohto sezónna premiéra, prvý krát v živote aj zakladám šrouby.

Druhú ide Marek, podotýkam že kľúčovú dĺžku. Elvisuje, ja očami doťahujem tie šrouby, ktoré našou ne-technikou nechcú chytiť. Zrovna v jednom mieste mi to príde tak, že keby dzigol, padne v kyve na mňa a sme jasní. Ale dá to na pána...Prvý krát na ľade, prepytujem.

Keď to doliezam, elvisujem aj ja, lýtka zhýčkané dostávajú zabrať. Dve dĺžky by sme mali, pomaly sa to začína pokladať viac a viac ale ujsť sa nedá. Takže si fukneme ešte ďalšie dve pod hviezdami posiatou, zamatovou oblohou, kde kraľuje ľadovo studený mesiac, osvecujúci všetko navôkol. Paráda.

Ticho, prerušované len jemným skuvíňaním vetra v špárach, tie hory okolo, zasnežené, strmé...nádherné. Ej, tuším som závislý a konečne môžem tomu zas začať holdovať.

Letné lezenie je pekné, ale táto zima, v horách je prázdnejšie a to je presne to čo vyhľadávam.

Cesta dolu je strmá a keď lapneme signál, hneď dávame vedieť že vsjo v požontku! Predsa osem hodín, tma už tri hodiny a amatéri v cudzom kraji.

Ak sme  boli rozbití z Marmošky, teraz je to na druhú, zajtra nejdeme nikam ani keby traktory lietali!

A oni lietali!

Ozvala sa mi Aaronova Renča, že reku keď sme tu, nevadilo by kus si poklebetiť. A keď už sa trepeme von, zoberieme tandema že si aspoň zletíme z Vorranu, kde ide, bohuchvála lanovka :)

V piatok, počko-nepočko, musíme domov, čo je škoda, ale určite ju ešte napravím/e!

Ďakujem/e Rajčimu za perfektný výlet, kopec skúseností a možnosť si takto pekne zablbnúť!

Taký bol náš útok na Alpy túto zimu, samozrejme sme sa všemožne snažili potopiť aj slovenské predsedníctvo, telom i dušou.

X-Pyr Day 6-7 /EN/

...or how the drudgery finished!

Sixth morning… and it looks like all the previous mornings, broken, tired, looking like a ghost. It’s still dark when I’m setting off, as today a lengthy walk, without any bright prospects of flying, lies ahead of me. I’m literary ruining my body along the asphalt until I meet Jessie, who caught up with me.

We walk to the saddle during the whole morning; sometimes it’s raining cats and dogs, sometimes it’s just drizzling. At least we use the time to talk about our experience, where we’ve been and what we plan. For me it was a really interesting debate. Jessie is from Seattle and the mountains there are just round the corner of his house, so we also mentioned that maybe I would like to visit the US to try the conditions there as I’m fascinated by the diverse and vast nature… And to fly it with a wing… hell yeah! That would be something.

We both are dreamers with similar ideas and goals. What’s more Jessie’s support, Mr Cibulka, specifically his family name, sounded somehow familiar to me; he must come from somewhere here (I mean Slovakia or Czech Rep.). And as I learn, this guy was the support of X-Apls athlete Honza Rejmanek. The world is really small!!

After few hours and sixteen kilometres of walking we reach the saddle at 2,000 m. Few kilometres to the west we can see a nice “puffed” cloud and it must be really photogenic, as there’s one flash of light after another. We run, together with Jessie, from the saddle on the hill. Every second is crucial, I would say.

I have never experienced such a flash unpacking, and it would be worth it to time it. In 20 seconds, for sure, Avaxiáš is above my head and let’s go into the air. In front of me there are clouds, I soared few meters and jumped over backwards, and Jessie takes off, as well. We fly next to the slope, below us there are high voltage power lines. I don’t have my glasses and it started to rain, I can see a big bullshit, since all the water pours into my unprotected eyes. I feel like in a wild river, with groundspeed around 60-80 km/h.

We fly down the valley like missiles, now and then I’m taken a bit up at a turn, what makes me happy but worried as well. Behind me there’s that cloud and I really don’t want to be sucked into it. So I fly rather full speed, so that the others “can’t laugh at me”. I land just before the rain changes to a downpour, and when I say downpour, I mean a real one. Happy as a clam I pack the wing and I’m glad that I’ve flown 1,200 m of elevation and 13 km in five minutes. I’m happy also because everything went good and nothing bad happened, this is called pure luck. Since thirty seconds after we took off it started to hail, and to be honest, flying in hailstorm is something I haven’t managed yet :D

Next few hours, as Jessie said, can be described as sharing our misery on an asphalt road. Finally we split, unplanned, and there the party starts. I’m in such a narrow valley that my GPs doesn’t want to work, the trail gets lost somewhere in the overgrown gardens and steep hill, there’s another storm chasing me, and I’m tired.

I decided to climb a 2,500 m high mountain (1,800 m of climbing ahead of me!), from where it would be possible to fly tomorrow. I managed to climb to 1,800 m AMSL and I’m done, knees are fucked, soles are swollen and just to make it more interesting also the eyes had hard times. In the morning I look like an old toper, swollen face, purulent eyes (result of the bombing water in storm without glasses and overall exhaustion).
Walked approx. 32 km, climbed 3,000 m, flown 13 km.

And there we go! The last day! I don’t know whether I should be happy nor not… I want to fly! In the morning the clouds are 500 m below the mountain, and it’s blowing like hell. In fact, I wouldn’t mind the wind, but the clouds are in unknown terrain and that’s not worth it. The overall exhaustion can be seen also in the decision making. I can think neither critically nor constructively. Support is catching up on their sleep and I wait at those 2,200 m until 11, then the clouds start to drop even lower and so I decided to descend on foot as there’s no chance to catch up with the guys ahead of me. Moreover, there’s the crucial jump, which I won’t probably manage with headwind. The walk through the wild national park is breathtaking, nothing hurts, as my head is so tired that is eliminates perception that dulls it. Maybe the headache is again from thirsty...thirsty which felt by Odin in halfway to Valhalla! :D 
Note:
Typical Spanish-Xpyr-competition day...thirsty and heat :D

Maybe it even saved me from making some bullshits. Since Jessie landed in trees on his reserve in strong wind… just for illustration :D

In the evening I want to fly down from a saddle but the take off is shitty, it blows like from mammut ass and in the wrong direction and the landing spots are already in the forbidden area. All the others are 40-50 km behind me as the crows fly and grounded… therefore end, ende, schluss! Terminal station! Ragnarok is over.

The feeling of liberation from the misery, continual starving and fatigue. But it was super cool, engrossing and strengthening. Team spirit supported by shared misery was born. Many new friendships forged in tough conditions were born. Many new experiences, which moved at least me to a completely new mental as well as physical level, were born. Because it was not only once, when I realised how close I was to killing myself.

I thank you all, you, who helped me somehow, and there are loads of you! Tandem passengers, sponsors, family, friends, those giving me lift when hitch-hiking, my team. Zajo helped me most, giving me a bunch of equipment that I tested, for example the new MERINO in which I sweated maybe hectolitres. I want to thank Gradient for a wing which hasn’t let me down in difficult and even impossible weather conditions and thanks to my brother, who designed it. Thanks a lot Avax! I want to thank Skybean for helping me with their superb devices, cameras and enthusiasm.

I want to thank all my readers, who felt like reading this entire staff and being in the shoes of a shy straw-haired Ďuro from Kremnica, who decided to try it and “fight” against blokes from all over the world.

In Port de la Selva we find out that among the best and also not so good competitors, i mean myself, we ended up on sixth place!

It’s said that we also deserved some kind of admiration for our brave feats, mainly for the flights which seemed reckless, but in fact they were all well thought-out 

Especially my big thanks to: Inigo, for great idea to make X-pyr, to choose me after all that all annyoning messages I write to him and for great organization. 
My support team: Marek and Jakub and all on the net faraway there, to help me, to cook me, to wash my clothes and spend time there, in those faraway Hispanic-Gauls lands.  Zuzana for this great translation, which bring my word across the globe :D. Competitors which share their knowledge, humour and time with us.

     IT WAS AN HONOUR!

X-PYR DAY 5 /EN/

XPyr Day 5 or how the Pyrenees divide the world in two

Once again, in the moonshine and absent-minded, shivering because of exhaustion, I’m marching. Right in front of me I can see Pena Montanesa, whose summit is 1,600 m higher than I am right now.

Few comments to our situation: yesterday, with the last effort, we reached the right side of the river, just under the hill. The weather today should allow at least a little bit of flying, so my only option how to escape is to fly regardless the conditions. Tomorrow the conditions will be 100% unflyable. Jessie (USA) is not far ahead of us, behind us there are Zlatko (SLO) and Giuseppe (ITA), but they have to reach the TP from north, as they used a shortcut that I mentioned in the previous part of the Pyrenees tales. Although their distance to the TP was shorter “as the crows fly”, the trail they have to use is overgrown by dwarf pines and some other staff and the inability to take off probably makes their morning not very nice. Their only option is to go around the whole mountain and go along the same trail as I’m going now. The problem is that in the afternoon it will probably be overcast and also some thunderstorms are forecasted, so they probably won’t manage that.

But let’s go back to the point, I don’t know why, but this morning cold and dew after the yesterday’s downpour, I feel really light and somehow enjoy the walking. I don’t even feel all the aches and pains that my “chassis” sends, any more. Because you know, pain is just a kind of information, and as we’ve seen recently the information can be sometimes wrong or confusing. So better not to believe anyone and anything… nothing hurts me, and although it can be misleading, I like it.

The trail up the mountain is beautiful; I struggle through the bushes and skitter along the rocks. For breakfast I have the already mentioned evergreen from yesterday sitting on the last piece of asphalt road with the view of that rock. It’s hard to believe that I could manage it, but let’s give it a try.

Smartly lead trail goes around all the rocks, which hide it when you look at it from below. After couple of hours I reach the first plateau, grassy and sloping. Altitude is something around 1,800 – 1,900 m AMSL. The problem is the wind, it’s blowing from east and the east wind doesn’t usually bring any good.

Thus I have to continue in climbing the mountain because such cross wind would wash me down the rocks. Easier said and even much easier written, but you can bet your ass that it wasn’t that easy. It was only 300 m, but slope steep like hell and of course full of pure rocks like a rocky field waiting for Juraj to slip. Sometimes they are cover with strange mutated giant moss. The trekking poles help just a little, an ice axe would be nice :D

Knowing that in these conditions with cross wind I will barely take off makes me feel even happier. I reach the summit hopelessly and see the damn limestone razor blades peering at me from the grass. I walk for a long time like the protesters in front of the barricades, all useless and without success. Eventually, I do it like this. I unpack Avax on the unfortunate rocks, tighten the lines as much as possible so they don’t get stuck and wait for a blow.

When it comes, I pull gently the A-lines, with my ass clenched as I’m scared not to tear anything and I jump in. Avax is right above my head and cuts the Hispanic air cheerfully.

Straight away there’s a tiny thermal so I climb as much as I can. Funny is that it’s blowing from NE, what is actually the already mentioned east wind. I fly together with some vultures, sometimes I climb a bit until there’s the first jump. I have maybe 2,200 – 2,300 m altitude and let’s go. I finish at maybe 1,900 and I’m literary planing a ridge which is being blown by a valley wind. I plane it so much that I eventually land. Damn it. And if it’s not enough the thermal was not above the ridge but in the valley where I land. And my calculations went wrong, so instead of landing on a meadow I end up in junipers, good enough for catching the lines. Half-an-hour is enough to entangle all the lines and I’m swearing blind what an idiot am I. I will have to climb back up the mountain. No signal, Livetrack doesn’t work for sure. No trail, just junipers, rocks and trees. Scratched all over my body I go on up the mountain… full of doubts but full of determination as well. Doubts are caused by the lack of time as I see clouds coming from west, next, there’ll be problems with the take off and, as usually, with water. However, the biggest challenge is the take off, since the whole 2,700 m high mountain is covered with gravel, which starts as soon as there are no more trees at maybe 2,000 m and what’s more, the slope is getting so steep that it’s almost impossible. Each step means half a step of slip backwards. I have 3 decilitres of water and sun is shining (the weather is sweet :D just joking there’s nothing sweet there yet). I’m angry as a bull a therefore the time passes fast. Finally, I take off from a small rock into a blow, praying for not to meet a thermal straight away… as I’m at only 2,100 m, and it seems too low to me (only 100 m over the tree line and damn below the summit at 2,700), but I wasn’t able to climb and take off higher because of the steep slope and gravel all around me.

I have no idea how I deserved that but Aiolos helped me. Straight away I’m taken, together with an eagle, by a thermal broken like my knees. I’m turning, and turning and climbing and enjoying the flight… I will make it over the ridge for sure!

In brief: I climbed just below the cloud base, tried to climb over each ridge and hurried with tail wind until I reached the break point which is the high mountains in the back. Pic du Maupas seems to be the best option for a jump. By the way, west of me there’s a cloud the size of a pig and is taking me up. The cloud base is at 2,800. The saddle I have to do is at 2,850. Bugger!

Fortunately, it opens up for a while, the cloud rises a bit and I, with my ass clenched (once again), fly over the saddle with 400 m, at the level of summit just next to it. What followed was just astonishing, mainly the view I had. There’s fog in France! Up to the ground! Awaxiáš is flying around me, or I should rather say that I’m flying around it; it shows me that, just by the way, I’m in a lee. I can already see the TP5, Ceciré. I make it and I’m trying to figure out what to do next. The wind is turning; I can’t land in the valley because of the fog, but I won’t climb any more. I’m landing in a steep slope at maybe 1,100 m.

I have to change the SIM card immediately, as there’s no other way to let my support know to follow me… finally they told me, it was 180 km. I find a stream and can get lost in the fog. I’m marching up the mountain which is 2,200 m high, hoping to fly down to the Spanish side, what will spare me a long way to walk. I’m hungry as a horse because I haven’t eaten anything since morning, I can’t walk any more as I managed to climb maybe 2,000 m of elevation difference and there’s still much ahead of me. And if it wasn’t enough the fog is climbing much faster than me. Bugger, damn it! I must, must, must make it. But it’s not that easy. There’s no trail leading up the mountain, it’s way too steep, the grass is high, it sprains my ankles. There’s just one word to describe it: IDEAL!

When I imagine that after all this struggle, if I run out of water again and I will have no energy to go on one meter or one minute more, I find out that it’s not flyable on the other side… then… I’d rather not think about that.

Last meters can be compared to clinical death, sweat is running down my face, I didn’t put on my gloves or used the skydrop, or camera or glasses. It blows like hell from west. So I throw it to 8 m/s lee with height around 1.5 m over the edge… yeah!

When I manage it all, I fly over the milky fog praying for a gap. I must have been a really good boy because there just one sidelong gap ahead of me, therefore I couldn’t see it from above. I go down through it, nice VFR, and I’m kicked by the valley wind. I fly like a missile, overtaking the cars below me. Wow, awesome! It blew me some 5 km more than I thought. As I’m landing in someone’s cabbage field, I have again some hard times because there are poplars just in front of me and aren’t doing any good. I jump over the fence like a thief and hurry to eat something. Sitting around, eating sausages, feeling happy as a clam… I managed it! I crossed the TP5 and returned as well.

With full stomach I walk down the valley, across the town of Vielha (just by the way, I see quite pretty girls for the very first time, or maybe we’ve already been here for too long?!) until I reach a camp in the village of Garós. I’m done!

Some numbers: walked 22 km, climbed on foot: 3,000 m! Flown: approx. 60 km

I lost my camera in the hurry somewhere in the mountains… :/ I have no idea where because all the memories are somehow blurred. It’s just, you know … I lost it in that rush all day long, struggling in bloody conditions and thinking about thousand other things whether navigation, planning, following the weather and my own knees, water any man others…

And when I’m writing this and looking at it backwards, it doesn’t seem that bad when I compare it to that actual day.

And to mention the others struggling around me: Zlatko and Giuseppe stayed south, made it just half way to the TP4, they took off but didn’t manage as much as I did, that is to land after a jump and take off again in better conditions behind TP4. They didn’t have a place to land. I’m pretty much ahead of them; tomorrow they will have to conquer that bloody mountains on foot in storms and rain. I managed to overtake even Jessie, just few km, but anyway, in the morning he was quite ahead of me. So now we’re fifth. 

TRACK
NEXT DAY--->

X-PYR DAY 4 /EN/

aka just an ordinary day walk on the asphalt road

At five, the alarm clock takes us out of our “beds”, and once again we look like ghosts. But as the proverb says “early bird catches the worm”, and when you have to deal with a wing, it’s usually true It’s not difficult to still sleep on Krížna (mountain in Slovakia) when it’s already 7 am and the guys didn’t sleep much as it was blowing in the valley once again, I reckon 10-15 m/s, and since we don’t have the best spots for tents, they have to have their tent built on concrete. Therefore no pegs, the guys both play the role of weights, and anyway, the wind was so strong that they were almost taken away and xpyrienced some flying as well 
In the village of Yésero, Marek joins me, supplied with water and some food, so together we rush up towards the summit, he’s of course much faster but at least he drives me. But it’s not only him… from west clouds are approaching, mainly middle clouds but it’s getting quite dark and quite fast, much faster than one would wish.
When we reach the ridge the situation is not what I hoped for. It’s blowing not from S,SW but rather from S, SE. Therefore I can’t soar the first beautiful part of the mountain, which would spare much of my power because I would fly with crosswind. So I continue to the summit, unpack quickly and fly. The slope supports me well enough, I fly maybe 4km. I pack the wing in a flash and run up the hill again, intentionally close to the forest because I forgot to take something against the rain, and it looks like it will start every minute. In 5 minutes I’m clamped against a pine trunk from the lee side and write few messages home. It’s good to be in touch with them after a while.
I managed to take off in the southern direction but I’m falling to the ground damn fast. It’s true that the Spanish land brims with beauty, the bushes are in bloom, the forests are nice and so on, but you know, I’d rather land in maybe six hours or so. I’m taken away by the valley wind a bit and I land in a village, pack my Avaxiáš sluggishly and have some pasta for breakfast while sitting in the car and listening to the rain clattering on the bonnet. Well, I wouldn’t want to be in Guissepe’s or Zlatko’s shoes, who decided to follow me. But since they were farther behind me they didn’t manage to do it in time and they’re now out in the rain on the ridge and they can be sure that they won’t be able to take off soon.

Under the bright moon providing some light, I walk sleepy and more tired than fresh after the night sleep, with bleeding nose, in the opposite direction to the original plan. I want to go towards a mountain that is more in the direction because it’s apparent that there won’t be much sun today and it will rain soon. 2,000-meter high, from maybe 1,700 m also grassy ridge looks promising and I hope that even today during a front I will be able fly at least something.

I didn’t have time to cool down and I go on, chased by another wave of rain, running to 2,000 m again. There’s a nice path made by cows and it has its benefits but mainly drawbacks. The benefit is that it’s straight and quite wide, but what is it for when my face is whipped by branches. Crouching like a German in a Verdun trench.

The summit is a bit shallow, and if it wasn’t enough, the wind has already turned to north. That’s not good because I have to head south, no matter what. The TP can be reached by two ways and I have no idea why, but I like the southern one more. Although it’s longer, it’s without serpentines and elevation.

I put on my raincoat by Zajo and let’s go tread the asphalt. I can’t say that my legs hurt that much because of mountain, but concrete or asphalt, that’s a killer. Knees, heels, toes, I can even feel stabbing in the middle of my sole… I walk really slowly. Even the trekking poles aren’t of much help to me as I wore out those rubber tips and although hitting the road with the hard metal tips relieves my knees, it kills my elbows and wrists.

Up to the town, which was built by the Romans, there is only a one-way road. I’m there at around five in the afternoon. A shortcut comes my way, but we didn’t think much ahead… we forgot to check the position of the bridge over troubled water that separates us from the TP Pena Montanesa. So I trudge along a dry and rocky riverbed and climb 200 m in vain just to find out that it was all useless. Few swear words blown by the wind and I run. I run because I’m so pissed off by the situation. Damn bridges! I run down to Aínsi, with knees completely fucked up as it was down the hill. Then run through the whole town, lost in the damn gravel. From the west a storm is approaching accompanied by dark so dark that Mordor together with Sauron and Mount Doom would be ashamed. I want to come as close as possible to the mountain because I need to get some good sleep for tomorrow’s flight. But, no, no! I can’t go any farther, I’m hungry, my legs hurt and it’s starting to rain. Just in the last minute I solve the situation with a random Spaniard, whom I met in the street, and I arrange “accommodation” on a sofa in his hall. He didn’t speak English, I didn’t speak Spanish, but we managed to solve it somehow. I take cold shower and at ten I’m dead to the world.

The plan for tomorrow is to start out as soon as possible towards the mountain that has elevation 1,600 m from my current position, and to be honest I don’t believe that it can be climbed without gear. Then it would be ideal to take off around twelve and my goal is to reach TP5, Ceciré, which is on the French side of Pyrenees. I have to fly over the main ridge no matter what because the forecast says that the next days won’t be flyable at all, and the idea of walking 2,700 m mountains made of pure rock, without a trail and hidden in storm clouds… I’d rather not do that, since it will be slow and maybe also a bit dangerous.

Walked: around 47 km, climbed: 2,600 m (?), flown maybe 12 km.
NEXT DAY --->