Alps + Adriatic, part 1 (Slovenia)

I had hoped to keep an ongoing account of our inaugural trip to Croatia and Slovenia: daily posts, photos, movies, etc... But when you bring together 2 writers, 1 photographer, 1 German, an American and a handful of Canucks for an adventure through the Balkans, there tends to be a bit of socializing. A lot of socializing, in fact. Which leaves little time for blogging.

But lots of time for sampling plum brandy and local trails.

We started our trip in the Karawanke mountain range of northern Slovenia, only a few kms from the Austrian border. This is Sound of Music scenery: big rolling grass hills, flanked by rocky, jagged peaks. Spectacular in every sense. My local Slovenian guide Dixi has a beautiful lodge perched on top of a hill, with an organic garden, a few cows, a swimming pool, and a massive network of singletrack surrounding his property.

Our first day got off to an auspicious start. Doug - the Aussie - and I were early arrivals, so we went for a spin to nearby Crna na Koroskem to visit a local potato festival (see below). Upon arriving back at the lodge, we were greeted by Alex - the German - with a fresh case of German Weis beer. Nice. Later that night the rest of our group arrived, suitably excited for the upcoming adventure. A few beers and some late night ping-pong followed, with The Dragon - yours truly - once again demonstrating his prowess, vanquishing the American journalist Rob Story with pinpoint precision (next time, P. Willow!)

The next morning didn't start quite so smoothly. Just half an hour into our first ride, Alex - the German - impaled his hand on a branch sticking out from the side of the trail. Shortly after that Peter, one of our local guides, went down hard on a tricky descent and gave himself an 8-stitch reminder of the trail. 'What are we in for?' I wondered. The rest of the group looked a little uneasy. Nevertheless, I knew from experience that these things tend to happen in bunches, often at the start of a trip as post-flight nerves and fatigue wreak hacov on riders' abilities, so I felt confident we'd made our sacrifices to the local mountain gods and could continue on with relative ease.

The rest of the morning was sweet - beautiful flowy singletrack, including one ride along a spectacular ridge, with some nice challenging steeps. We stopped for lunch at a remote little inn under the shadow of a 14th-century church, and crawled up into the belltower for a little dose of history, followed by delicious local mushroom soup and goulash.

We rode another beautiful singletrack trail after lunch, and then what followed was simply sublime and surreal: a 90-minute ride through the heart of a mountain, underground. The 500-year-old Crna mine was shut down in 1996, leaving a legacy of 800 kilometres of underground passages. We would be riding along one of the main shafts, in total darkness (with lights, of course).

We met our guide - a former-miner-turned-underground-mountain-bike-guide - and strapped on our headlamps before heading in to the mine. Just a few metres into the mine the temperature plummeted, from a comfortable 25 degrees to a downright chilly 10 degrees.

The shaft was narrow, leaving just a foot or two on each side of the riders. The effect was surreal and adrenaline-filling. As the walls rushed by, we rode on in silence, stopping every few minutes to listen to our guide talk about the history of the mine, showing us eery caverns and shafts down to other levels (there are 21 different levels in the mine!). Turning off our lamps at one point, I experienced darkness like I'd never 'seen' before in my life. I tried to imagine spending my days down here, 14 hours at a time. It must have seemed like one of the lower circles of Dante's hell to its inhabitants. Thankfully, we were only here for 90 minutes.

We finished the last kilometre with a high-speed chase to the end of the tunnel, emerging into the heat and light of the day with smiles on our faces. It was easily the most unique experience I've ever had on a mountain bike.

We finished up our first day with a grueling but short climb to another local singletrack, and bombed our way back down to Crna along a beautiful patch of trail. Reaching the bottom, shooters of local whiskey awaited us all - a perfect cap on an amazing day.

The next 3 days were spend exploring the beautiful country of Slovenia. We visited stunning Lake Bled, a spectacular alpine lake with a picturesque island church in its waters; rode along an old WWII where Hemingway cut his war teeth and lived the experiences which led to For Whom The Bell Tolls; gawked at the stunning scenery of the Julian Alps; ate delicious - and massive - local meals, and cursed the Legend, our 2nd van, as it broke down in southern Alps.

I'd visited Slovenia once before, many years ago, but hadn't had the time to properly appreciate how beautiful this country is. Everywhere you look there are beautiful mountains and green, untouched forests. I asked Dixi's son Anej how they manage the country's natural resources and he replied 'very carefully.' I didn't see a single clearcut during our 4 days there, despite thick forests full of valuable timber. Logging is heavily regulated in Slovenia, and you have to get special permission and submit a long-term, sustainable logging plan if you want to do any logging at all. Canada could learn from our Balkan neighbours.

Next stop: Croatia, the Adriatic, and mistletoe brandy.