| suhy28. 10. 2024 23:59:14 |
The criminal returns to the scene of the crime. Well, not quite a criminal, to be precise, he's just a passionate hiker who heartily wished for Požgana Mlinarica again. Just like three years ago, almost on the same day. Yes, he dearly loves those solitary, remote, and wild corners. And since those very corners are expected to become much less accessible to ordinary mortals after November 4th, when according to verified rumors from behind the bar counters and other official sources by order of the Kranjska Gora mayor a paid ramp at the Vrata entrance will start operating, the man, deeply versed in folk wisdom, doesn't rack his brains much about what to do. He knows that a missed opportunity never returns, and better a sparrow in hand than a pigeon on the roof, and also, don't put off until November 4th what you can do a week before.
So in this early morning he plans to drive his bike to Turk's Rovt, from where ski tour enthusiasts in winter head uphill toward Cmír, and lock it by the signpost there. The man intends to do a loop that's not quite everyday by hiking logic, but quite special, involving some walking and some pedaling. Something like that, just a tad less frantically than our heroes Pogi and Rogla, who fill the hearts of the land south of the Alps with joy, pleasure, and triumph.
Then the man drives back by car to Mojstrana and toward Radovna to the Kot turnoff, from where he foot-climbs steeply toward Črna gora. The collapsed hut at around 1200 m, due to which nothing remains of the trail, doesn't much bother the pathless-hardened man. Knowing all paths lead to Rome, and from the eternal city it's not far to home meadows, and that it's all just plain cat's cough, he scans all seven sides and breaks almost vertically past the sad wooden ruin on the right to the bivouac like it's a joke. There the surprise. Firmly believing he'd solo the entire ridge to Požgana Mlinarica and down to the locked bike in blessed solitude and silence on this working Monday, he's startled by a mountaineer – gosh, where'd he come from – who was probably thinking the same. As is fine custom among hikers, word begets word, and from the word flood the men quickly guess they have quite similar intentions. So they get moving and stride together in the same direction. Namely, one is Roman, the other Miha. Since both have open heads regardless of name, plus chatty natures and spare no tongues, on the path over Črna gora, Predelov vrh, Lengarjeva glava, Požar and across Rušnata Mlinarica to Požgana, as befits serious men and only they know how, they manfully opine on all things generally useful for living and being. Empty twaddle, favorite feed where feathers and beaks flock plenty, they couldn't care less. The ridge path is long as a spring snake, here and there a bit of rock-handling skill comes handy so the mountaineer doesn't tumble into sad irretrievable loss, but in such pleasant company the path flew by.
Though the men first planned to descend from Požgana Mlinarica each their own way, they agreed to take the same one (Planica – Pokljuka) to Vrata. After an hour and a half they reach the road, where the bike awaits one, the other sadly has to trudge to Mojstrana. Before going separate ways, the men shake hands and part. Miha mounts the bike and after a good half hour at the car logs the sausage that piled up to 21 km in length and a whopping 1587 m in height. 
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