Far away in the dim recesses of the Carpathians (92Cong.Rec.)

TJ has had his eye on Ukraine's mountains ever since we arrived in Kyiv. However, the main range, the Carpathians, are on the western border of the country, quite a ways from the capital. Getting there takes a good day, so doing a multi-day hike requires more than even a long weekend. So as a compromise, we used the three-day Labor Day weekend for a scouting expedition. We left work at lunch on Friday, so we could get to Ivano-Frankivsk by evening, to use as a jumping-off spot to explore the region. It was a bit of an expedition in and of itself to find our accommodations, Striha Apartment (left), conveniently located across from the train station (right). 

You can take an overnight train to Ivano-Frankivsk, but using public transportation to get to all the nooks and crannies of Carpathian National Nature Park would be difficult. From Ivano-Frankivsk, there are trains to Yaremche, where a park headquarters is located within walking distance of the station. Strangely, the headquarters are closed on weekends, so all we could do was glean some insight from the informational signs (left). We learned that there are lynxes and bears in the park, but we didn't end up seeing anything other than friendly creatures, including kittens and butterflies (right).

Just outside of Yaremche, attractive Hutsulshchyna restaurant sits alongside the Prut River (top left). It is part of a complex that has built up next to perhaps the area's most popular wet attraction, Probiy Waterfall, which has turned a bit too touristy for my taste. If you look upstream, it appears to be a calm natural retreat (top right), but the falls themselves are crawling with visitors (bottom left). The highest waterfall in the park, Trufanets Waterfall, also attracts its share of onlookers; it took some effort to get a photo without people in the shot (bottom right).

 

In fact, the natural wonders in the region that are the most significant are the least likely to draw much attention. The ancient beech forests on the UNESCO World Heritage List stretch across 12 countries. Right near our first campsite was a sign indicating we were smack dab in the middle of Ukraine's swath (left). Unfortunately, we didn't see one of the 16 wooden churches on the UNESCO World Heritage List, but we saw more modern versions built with the same horizontal logs and octagonal cupolas (right). 

 

The churches date to the Orthodox and Greek Catholic cultures of the 16th to 19th centuries. Even before that time, the area was home to Hutsuls, a hard-working and fun-loving bunch descending from the Romanians or Slavs, depending on who you ask. The horse-drawn wooden wagons certainly reminded me of those used by the Romani gypsy culture (left), which has grown to the second-largest ethnic minority in Romania today, after first entering the region during the 13th-century Mongol invasion. And the Hutsuls' woven goods seem to stem from a Slav-like resilience in cold, damp climates (right). 

 

Speaking of damp, the first campsite we used, in Kvasy, was sunny when we arrived, providing a nice vista of the Tysa River valley (top left). But the next morning, after 8 straight hours of rain, the same valley was full of puddles and mist (top right). The mountain fog made the abandoned military building next to the soccer pitch where we pitched our tent seem even more foreboding (bottom).

Before the rain, we enjoyed a respite in the village below. On our steep descent, we stopped to wave to the train headed to Lviv (top). Once at the bottom, we popped a squat at a picnic table associated with the original Tsipa Brewery (bottom left). The outdoor seating actually was more the purview of Hutsul Pizzeria, from whom we ordered a pizza and some "Hutsul ravioli," which were pelmeni with a cream sauce made from locally gathered mushrooms (bottom right).

The next morning, we set out to explore Ukraine's highest mountain, Hoverla (left). There are many paths leading to the peak, but we investigated the trailhead near Vorokhta. Some people hike from the city, which is connected by train to Lviv, but you can also catch a mashrutka a little further, to the turnoff toward Zaroslyak. Along that 6-kilometer-long mountain road, there are many pulloffs where you can picnic or camp (right). Since we had a car, we drove to the end of the road, where there is a small tourist complex with a chalet; from there, it is a 3-kilometer off-road hike to the summit.

Because we had Sage, we didn't hike to the top. Instead, we enjoyed a snack, then headed out to look for another campsite. We saw many good ones right near Hoverla, but it was early in the day, so we decided to push on toward Kosiv. There were quite a few spots right by the road near the Vorokhta Skijumping Center, where we stopped for coffee before driving toward Hoverla (left). We weren't sure if the jump was closed for the season or simply not even usable anymore, but the lift to the top was operational (right).  

 

After a long scenic drive and some backtracking, we decided to camp at a developed picnic spot right next to the river outside Verkhovyna. But by then, the rain had begun again, and as we waited it out in the car, hail started to hit (left). With already soaked gear and little motivation to spend another night in the rain, we opted to check into Art Koliba, a complex of tourist cabins down the road. Sage supported our decision 100 percent (right). 

Not only did Sage enjoy the comfort of a cozy cabin, but he made some friends with the complex's dog pack: a corgi, a shepherd mix, and her two puppies. The mama dog was a particularly good host, showing us to our door and guarding us on the balcony through the night (left). The next morning, during a walk with the pack, they tried to persuade Sage to cross the river to the banya, but we wouldn't let him follow on the unstable wooden bridge (middle). They got along so well that Sage didn't even seem to mind when one of the puppies snuggled up with the resident cat right outside our door (right).

  

Throughout the area, there are many signs reading "koliba," which indicates a traditional wooden hut that likely once was used for both room and board but now is more specifically an eating establishment, with sleeping cabins perhaps nearby. There were more mushrooms than men at the evening meal at our koliba. We started with a "hot" salad of mushrooms, tomatoes, peppers, oil, and cheese (top left). TJ had a pork steak with a mushroom sauce; I had mushrooms in smetana, a delicious fungi pudding; and both of us had potatoes mixed with butter, mushrooms, and other vegetables (top right). We enjoyed them so much that we decided to buy a kilogram (a little over 2 pounds) of freshly picked mushrooms from a roadside babushka on our way home (bottom).