Slovenia - The Places That Impacted Me Most
Finally it's there, The Skuta Shelter erupts ahead of us. Needles to say that after a classic 3 hours of 'slovenian-straight-up' scrambling in the scorching afternoon sun we're happy to see it. We have made plans to continue higher up towards Skuta Mountain but the wind has picked up and we hear a distant roar of thunder…
A team of ambitious Harvard university students, Slovenian architects, mountaineers and a lot of volunteers thought it was time to have a brand new hut on the saddle below Skuta Mountain. It wasn't going to be easy. This place is remote. So remote in fact that the slovenian army had to airlift the finished structure.
Our friend & acclaimed alpine guide Marko Petek confirms that thunderstorms are in the forecast for our area all throughout the evening. We cancel our afternoon jaunt instead pop the jet boils out and start cooking our 3 star dinner. What's on the menu tonight? Cured meats and dehydrated mushroom soup -“gobova juha” in Slovenian. Now I won't get into the infamous "gobova juha" incident of 2018 but let's just say that someone I shall not name (Marko Petek) managed to totally burn an instant mushroom soup and tried to brand it to us as a 'smoky flavour seasoning, slovenian specialty!'.
Marko Petek on a deep moment of reflection after the tragic mushroom soup event.
Besides this long forgotten incident, we had a blissful night on our 1800m high perch, rocked to sleep by the thunderstorms and the wind pushing against the walls. One thing I’ve noticed in the Julian or Kamnik Alps of Slovenia is that the altitudes don't sound that high. Hell! Even the tallest peak in the country is under 2900m high. However from these mountains you can see all the way down to the Med' and it kind of feels that you’re looking at the world from an airplane window.
The next morning was clear, the storm had passed and we could see all the day down into the fields. The valley was waking up, we could hear the hum of life in the distance. We expedited breakfast, loaded our packs and booked it straight down. The hum of the valley getting louder with each step. Spirits are high, we’re even looking forward to today’s objective -Mt Triglav.
Joel Fuller on the way up Mt. Triglav
This mountain is an absolute classic for any moderately fit person who visits Slovenia and even for the locals - a legend says that for Slovenian people to ‘really’ become Slovenian they have to summit the Triglav. I’ve asked taxi drivers and waiters here if they’ve done it and the majority reports that they haven’t done it but they ‘will one day’. Us on the other hand were looking forward to becoming Slovenian today. We could have picked a better day to acquire another nationality because the temperature must have been above 35 degrees celsius (95f) on some of the scree fields. Sweat and dehydration was at its finest. We kept filling water bottle after bottle from any creek we’d find.
You see most people climb this mountain over 2 days. The guide books recommend 14 to 16 hours of uninterrupted climbing. We’re no athletes but we’re doing this in 1 day, actually half a day. We left at 2pm and need to summit before sunset. So we press on.
One of the comforting things of Euro-Style climbing is that you don’t really need to worry about food. In the high seasons there’s always a manned hut with a smiling cook waiting for you. Wether you like that or not it is quite convenient. By 7:30pm we reach the Kredarici hut which seats 400m under the summit of Triglav. We order an abundante portion of macaroni bolognese and a couple of beers and coctas - the slovenian coke. Under normal circumstances I love food but here, with a 360 view and 5 hours of climbing behind me I’m adoring it.
With dinner formalities behind us, we get back on our tired feet and start walking again. We have about 1.5 hours of daylight left. Because we’re climbing in the evening, there’s no-one on this wall. I love catching sunset from these high places because it goes so much against ‘mountain common sense’ you always have the place to yourself. And how many people can say they’ve seen the sun set from the summit of Triglav? Not many according to Marko.
We’re tired but we’ve made it. We’re Slovenian now (Joel and I, Marko already was).
The long way down from Triglav - we will reach our overnight hut at 2:30am.
I have a bit of a crush for Slovenia. Ever since I visited in 2015 I've been coming back pretty much every year. And I spend most summers in France which means the Alps are within easy reach. Yet I decide to cross half of Europe to this tiny country in the shadow of Austria and Switzerland. That's what I love about it: The more known destinations around Slovenia act as a filter and only the motivated travelers end up here, the others stick to the Alps.
Slovenians have resiliency, a can-do attitude and a friendliness I have yet to find in neighboring countries. Their past is rocky at best, they only broke free of socialist Yugoslavia and became a country in late 1989. Yet they display a an exemplary approach to conservation of their wilderness, which traditionally ‘richer’ countries do better. They may lack the infrastructure of say Austria but they more than make up for it with their sense of community, sustainability and protection of their nature.
Visiting Slovenia is like making a statement that says: know I can go to Chamonix but instead I'm opting to go where fewer go, where I'll encounter flashes of previous times (like the domo vinkovic tractor, or a derelict ski lift), where you can show up at most mountain huts without reservations. That's what makes the charm of this place, you didn't end up here by accident, you meant it.
A Moment In : Landmannalaugar, Iceland
Just kicking off a new photo category for the blog called ‘A Moment In’ where you can expect to be transported to a corner of the planet for a brief slice of time.
The volcanic layers of Landmannalaugar. The first time I saw this valley I couldn’t help it but think that volcanoes are pretty talented architects. One or two eruptions and voila, here’s Landmannalaugar.
Westfjords, Iceland - The Places That Impacted Me Most
I'm in what is arguably one of the most beautiful places on earth. The creme de la creme for anyone who is drawn towards places where the ocean meets jagged mountains and cliffs. Where waves abruptly end their journey on thousand foot high volcanic cliffs that formed millions of years ago.
It's 1 in the afternoon, I've gone to bed a 2:30am and had a rought night of sleep in my tent in some windswept field. But spirits are high because my friend and local extraordinaire Haukur Sigurdson is joining me for a gargantuan American style breakfast in his town, Ísafjörður. Haukur is the sort of guy who always has a story to tell, knows every single person in the North of Iceland and can source anything from a red bicycle to a full size sailing boat that sleeps 12 in a matter of minutes.
Haukur, after he found said boat.
I'm meeting with Haukur to tell him about yesterday's jaunt to his cousin's lighthouse. Yep, there's people in this world who own massive yachts, mansions in Malibu and there's Olí who owns 1000 acres of land spread across two valleys with its own lake, river system and 4km of beachfront at the edge of the world. And a functioning lighthouse.
When I heard about it knew I had to go, it sounded like the stuff of dreams for someone who loves getting lost and seemingly pointless endeavours. I arrived there after a quiet 2.5 hour walk up a pass, through a desolate plateau and down the pass towards the ocean. Needless to say I didn't see a living soul around. Just as the sun was setting, there it was, the orange lighthouse with its detached care taker house.
At this point I don't know much about the building, apart the fact that it is the more remote lighthouse in all of Europe, I’m getting the sense that I'm somewhere special. I spot the year '1959' engraved above the door and start to imagine how many local fishermen this building has saved from crashing into the shallows around here.
Haukur said that the door should be open so I knock, wait, and open the door. It's neat inside, there's a piano, a saxophone, an old VHF radio and piles of dusty books sitting on wooden shelves. What else can one need here? The only sign of recent activity I find is the guestbook; the last visitors left this morning. It is dark upstairs the windows are covered by heavy sheets to protect the overnighters from the 24 hour-long summer days found in these latitudes.
After the tour, I sit outside on the big cement slab under the lighthouse and eat a sandwich facing the North Atlantic ocean. The next landmass is Greenland some 250 miles away. It's 11pm, and it feels as I'm in a different planet.
The Westfjords are one of these places that I think about once a week at minimum. They keep me coming back for more but I can't explain why. It's an idea, it's a feeling, it's where you go rub shoulders with the end of the world. To be one with the clouds, to get slapped by a North Atlantic storm, to see what earth might have looked like before we even existed.
I love this corner of Iceland because it is out of the way, a 'detour' for the bucket list travellers who speed through the ring road in 5 days, thinking they saw Iceland but haven't even scratched the surface. To these travelers I'd recommend coming back and spending at least a few days in the Westfjords. There won't be oversized parking lots full of buses but there will be wild beauty, for miles, and a lot of friendly locals.
The view from the tallest mountain of the Westfjords: Kaldbakur
Hornstrandir peninsula seen from Latrar Air Station
Alaska - The Places That Impacted Me Most
My first article on my first blog, this is exciting, it only took a pandemic for this blog to finally move to the top of the agenda. There are still shelves to assemble in my garage and I wonder what else is it going to take it for me to get them upright. A meteorite? Ok now to the subject at hand, the big question: Which places have have had the most around impact on me? It’s fair to say that my job as a commercial adventure photographer takes me to pretty cool places so I should know what I’m talking about right? Let’s just assume that you trust my judgement.
This is the first entry to the “Places That Impacted Me Most” series. Let’s take the time machine to… Alaska, circa 2014.
November 23, 2014, my first time in Alaska.
I landed in Anchorage on a dreary November night, picked up my bags, zipped to the Hertz counter, and was handed the keys to a massive Dodge Ram. Hello Alaska. The reason I was here? To shoot a campaign for Canon's new entry level DSLR dubbed the 'Rebel T6i', rowdy.
The next morning was no different than the night before, low grey clouds, and barely any light by 9am. So much so for our concept of shooting 'Epic Alaskan mountain landscapes' which is what I had sold Canon on.
Nevertheless, I headed down the lobby to meet my two fixers, Jovell and Young Kim. After some small talk and going over the rough planning of the day we hit the road, our destination: Eklutna Lake, a large reservoir up in the Chugach Mountains. The idea was to get there for first light, which in late fall in Anchorage is about 9:45am. Although Young Kim was already asleep snoring in the back of the car, the cloud ceiling was getting lower and lower revealing only about 1/3 of the mountains around us, I was slowly getting my mind blown by Alaska.
Still, seeing how socked in the valley was I was getting increasingly worried about our morning shoot. We left the freeway and started climbing on a narrow-ish road towards the village of Eklutna and by some kind of miracle, after passing the village, we popped out of the clouds and there was pure, clear, light blue sky. Not a cloud in sight above us. We pressed on to the lake which was only a few miles away, parked and started walking towards the shore.
The morning fog was still dissipating over the lake and ever so slowly Bold Peak started rising at the far end of the lake. Within minutes, the west side of the range above us started turning pink, then orange and bright yellow. Sunrise was happening, and I was on a cloud. During this 5 day long Alaskan jaunt, I saw peaks I could only dream of, photographed moose, elk, and saw the northern lights for the first time.
Alaska had a profound impact on me because for a euro kid who is used to domesticated mountains, this was totally different. Miles and miles of Wilderness without anyone in sight, it felt like the edge of the world, where the ocean meets the glaciers. One just has to pull up a map to understand the endless possibilities for adventure here.
— Alex
Moments before peaking through the clouds on our way to Eklutna Lake
10 seconds after we’re through, and our asses are saved.
Jovell and Young Kim, waiting for the fog to clear on Eklutna Lake
Jovell and Young Kim above the clouds once again at the Hatchers Pass abandoned mine.
Jovell and Young Kim convinced a dude to give us a night ride up the Girdwood cable car to shoot the stars
Musk Ox at the Nature Reserve near Portage Glacier
