A Quick Ride in the Carpathian Mountains

Some journeys bloom only a short season. Our quick trip in the Carpathian was only a total of 50 hours – three nights and two days of exploring on bicycles. We met Friday night for the first time in front of the main train station in Kiev.

Ready to Go at Kiev’s Train Station

It was a mixed group of riders – experienced riders with thick powerful legs as well as skinny beginners riding new bikes. We were on a brief journey to the Valley of the Daffodils, but the ride began with an overnight train ride. With our helmets, bags, bikes we piled into the train. Our bicycles were loaded right under the roof of the train compartments over our seats while we stored our gear below the seats. At dinnertime we crowed into one little cabin and spread out our food on a table for all to taste and sample. It was a big buffet with sausage, cheese and bread. I passed out Oreos cookies – American junk food – that I had brought from the United States.

One of the real treats on the train was the hot tea, served by a train conductor with a clean white shirt and proper hat. Luxury in the overnight train: tea served in a real glass with a silvery holder. No cheap plastic cups here. As it began to get dark, we laid out our beds and fell asleep. The train rocked us slowly back and forth as we passed unknown villages and towns on our way to the Carpathians.

Saturday began quietly on the overnight train. My compartment was still snoring loudly (dreaming of pancakes). Alex woke up after me and peered out the window. We were already in the Carpathians. Green hills rolled by as the train snaked down valleys and through tunnels. When we were 30 minutes from our stop, everyone was awake, dressed and in a hurry. We only had 6 minutes to get all of our bikes, bags and butts off the train. But we made it and soon reassembled our bikes. I put on my egghead bicycle helmet and was ready to go.

Look Mom! Only 1 Hand!

We rode in sunshine, passing bulls, goats, horse-drawn wagons, fast new cars and old soviet models. We saw churches, monasteries and old and new houses. One young boy we waved at was texting on a mobile phone while watching his cow munch on grass. At one crossroads in a small town, farmers sold seedlings to the locals for planting in their gardens. Being the growing season, gardens were being put in all along the road in fields we rode by. Entire families were digging in the dirt, planting and pruning.

Soviet WW 2 Memorial

Each little village we passed through had one thing in common: monuments to soldiers who died in World War II. Plastic flowers at the foot of each memorial kept the memory of the dead artificially but eternally alive.  The country road was a blend of rust and fresh paint. Some of the homes were either new or at least redone on the outside. Most of the signs welcoming visitors entering the villages were rusting. Some of the more experienced riders showed off their fancy riding skills, smiling while riding with only one hand.

Sea of Flowers

We rode up and down hills, around bends and finally found a little hidden spot to eat our lunches and take a rest. I wasn’t tired but I did lie down and rest my eyes. Climbing on our bikes again and after another hour stretch, we made it to the Valley of the Daffodils. It’s a protected nature park where daffodils grow like waves in the ocean. A few islands were built, so visitors can come and get their pictures taken standing in the middle of the blossoms. After getting a few pictures ourselves, we continued down the road, riding through and around 213 potholes that were connected by a street to make it to our hotel for the night.

The hotel was cozy with a sauna, pool, bar and restaurant I was happy with a bowl of bourch, a soupy Ukrainian dish that was very tomato-ish.

Rainly Flat

Sunday the weather changed, and I know why. Someone forgot to bribe God. Thus, in contrast to our trip on Saturday – sunshine, smiles and happiness – we rode 65 kilometers on Sunday in the rain and cold. Even the cows laughed at us. We also had two flat tires (one of the flat tires being mine). We took a couple of tea breaks to warm up along the way. We rode on Sunday to beat the wind rain and hills, and several of the cars that passed us, honked their horns, encouraging us on. Finally we reached town and gave a few yells of joy. We were victorious against ourselves and our desire to. Our reward was a little restaurant – actually part of a hotel – that had a little sauna we could use to warm up in.

Is this the Right Train?

It was early Sunday evening and time to head to the train station. A few hours later we were dry and comfortable, riding back through the mountains on the overnight train back to Kiev. With a little hot tea we were soon fast asleep. Awaking the next day, back in the big city, we unloaded our gear from the train, said our goodbyes and went back to our respective jobs, friends, lives and routines.

It was a quick ride: A daffodil that revealed its color and scent for a few hours. Such actual moments are always short, but the memories can bloom forever.