Everything Aches: Borjomi National Park

A 2-day hike in Borjomi National park seemed like a really fun time. And, truly, it was. Having returned from the experience I feel cleansed. However, when I awoke this morning I found that it quite simply hurt to move. Its a testament to my tough-as-nails demeanor that I was able to get out of bed. To understand how we realized this exciting aspect of my life, lets go over the past 48 hours, shall we?

After taking a Marschutka to the city of Borjomi from which Borjomi glass and Borjomi mineral water comes, we had a quick lunch and found our way to the ranger station of the National Park. We had paid for a guide, the "tourist shelter", sleeping bags, and mats upon which to sleep. We did not have to carry the guide, thank goodness. He would walk himself. Nor did we have to carry the Tourist Shelter, which was already at the designated collapse point. We did, however, have to carry our sleeping bags and mats - an eventuality we had not planned for. Lexi and I, being h4rdcore to teh max, had managed to put all our stuff into one bag which we would then trade off carrying. However, there was not enough room for this bag to hold two sleeping bags and two rolled mats. In retrospect, maybe we should have had two light bags. Ah well. We maintained good humor, and set off.

Borjomi Park was beautiful. Our guide, whose English was quite good, explained several plants to us. The mighty Oak, Elm, Maple, etc. Then, we went uphill. For about four hours. And not like Black Butte uphill but we're talking Cliff Face with a Hill hastly added in and a trail about the width of a matchbox uphill. for FOUR HOURS. Surrounded by natures majesty but constantly aware of the potential to fall to our collective deaths and die. Well, I take that back. Kate just kind of breezed up the damn thing like she was on a segway while I found myself gasping for breath. Apparently Lexi prefers heavy to awkward, so she carried the backpack while i worked with the sleeping bags and mat. Everything worked out okay because after a while time had no more meaning to me, and the repetition of walk 4 steps, look up in wonder, take it in for a sec, take four steps, etc. Which is good because I immediately pulled my groin as soon as we started going uphill at a 45 degree angle.

So we trekked and trekked, the four of us with a stiff upper lip to rival the most anglo of saxons and, tapping into our reserves of strength, made our way up to the top before sundown. Well before sundown, actually, at about 5 pm. For dinner: bread and cheese. Our guide had brought nothing to eat, but he DID have a knife with which to cut things.

We learned 2 things from our guide:

"You are the fastest group."

And

"I forgot to bring vodka. Now I regret."

He told us that if we wanted to go uphill and walk for another 3 or 4 kilometers we could find some Shepards who would happily provide us with georgian moonshine untill we fell over in a pool of our own vomit. We decided we were too tired for this and immediatly went to lie down and rest our eyes.

Kate managed to stay up until sundown. The rest of us fell asleep at about 7 pm, the sun still high in the sky, on hard wooden bunks with a centimeter thick mat which was about as hard as the wood. Harder, possibly. On those hard, hard beds we slept for 12 solid hours. possibly 13. It was kind of amazing to wake up and feel as though I had been beaten with sticks, yet fully refreshed.

The way back was equally majestic, much steeper, and downhill. I practically had to run. Lexi compared it to skiing. It was hard. Mad hard. I thought my knees were going to collapse. But by god, we made it. Pics to come!

And now everything aches, and I have the most important job interview ever in 6 hours and i am FREAKING OUT now so that I can be a cool cucumber later.