Forest Paths

Hey there Folks!

This year's summer was heavy on exploration for me. Every summer is, of course, but so far, I don't think I've previously experienced one during which the exploration went to such great extent. In the past, I used to explore the nature of the place I'll tell you about, with a couple of my friends that lived in the area. Or at least they were spending their summer holidays there, like I was. But the recent few years, I was wandering the woods mostly alone. Some of them moved away and some don't visit the place for the summer anymore. It's sad, but I don't mind personally. I like exploring the Great Outdoors alone. It's a very freeing experience and I can spend time there for as long as I want. And this year clearly showcased this, as I went quite deep into the forest this time, finding places I had no idea were there, climbing mountains and hills I know no-one would want to.

Paradoxically, during these summer months, when I was supposed to have all the free time in the world, I was busy most of it. I was working on a project, a game, with a group of my friends. Actually, we still are, as of writing this text. But despite my responsibilities, I was able to spend some parts of the summer in close contact with nature.
You see, most of my life I spent in a city. But for the first few years, before we moved, I lived in a village, bearing the name: Lesíček. It is a very small rural place, surrounded by beautiful meadows, vast forests and a mountain range. And in this post, I'd like to tell you about my wandering through the network of paths in the local woods.

Feel

The first thing I'd like to mention is the immense beauty and strong atmosphere these paths create. It's really hard to describe, that's why I decided to also include some photos I took along my journeys. I think the visuals will help with explanation of what these paths are like, and what they make you feel. But let's be honest, a photo can never, ever, capture what it's like being there, walking these paths on foot. Nor a video. Not even words. At least definitely not when I'm the one writing them. It needs to be experienced first-hand. I love photography, but a sensor can never capture what human eye can. Plus, there are many more senses that truly make it an experience. The smell of fresh air. Summer breeze flowing through you. Scorching heat and sharp sun rays penetrating your skin. And then subsequent relief after seeking the sanctuary of a shadow under the canopy. Sitting on tree stumps, on fallen trunks, on hard, lichen-covered boulders or on a soft ground, looking around, at the view, at the surrounding landscape. Tasting all the different kinds of berries ripening across. Flowers coloring the occasional patches of grass. Bugs crawling everywhere, winged insects orbiting, annoying you in the process. Sweat dripping from your forehead. Feeling the soil through your fingers. Watching tadpoles swimming in puddles. Birds chirping. Grasshoppers buzzing. Leaves rustling under your feet. Fatigue and excitement at the same time. Noticing the sun moving throughout the day. Cold water flowing in streams. This is what you get to experience when traversing such paths. This and much much more.

Elevation

In this region, the terrain is quite hilly. Even mountainous I would say during some segments. But I will mostly abstain from using this word, because I am sure many people would argue and bring up the definition of mountains or whatever. The point is, this variety in elevation is clearly noticeable when walking through these forest paths. One moment, you feel like you are at the top of the world, like every surrounding mountain, is at your reach, despite a marginal distance between you two. Sometimes, when I witness such view, I am thinking to myself, that maybe, if I would be able to jump with a great force, I could get across. It is nonsensical of course, a funny amusing thought, but the scale of things gets skewed greatly when you see such landscape. Even with two functioning eyes, you start to lose the comprehension of depth and size when confronted by such vastness of land.
And the very next moment you can find yourself in a valley, surrounded by these tall hills up close. You are again confronted with the grand scale of the environment around you, but the feeling is different. They no longer feel like you could reach out and touch them, even though they are way closer to you now. They also feel very condescending. Not in a threatening way though. You basically start to understand how small you are and how huge the world around you truly is. Full of beautiful places, left for you to explore, to make memories at, to fuel your inspiration. I might've gotten carried away here slightly, but when talking about these things, I am directly referring to the places I've roamed this summer and what I saw and how it made me feel back then. Being in that valley, surrounded by hills and trees from every direction. It is a memory to be kept for a very long time. Ideally, forever.

I am a very curious person when it comes to exploration. If some place has been unexplored, or it is hidden from me, I want to see it. And because of this, I often find myself straying away from the path, just because I see a hill and I want to see what is at it's top. This is actually how I managed to get to one of the peaks of the Slánske vrchy mountain range, that partially surrounds the village. To be specific, I have summited (ooh, big hiking word) the Ostrá peak. I don't know if you actually care, I expect you to not, but I think I can do no harm by mentioning it. And the process of me getting there eventually was purely fueled by my curiosity to see what is higher. I see an interesting-looking hill, I want to climb it. So I do. And then I see a new path and I try to explore it further. And then it leads me higher and higher and maybe I see some other hills and the entire process repeats until I get to some of the peaks of the mountain range.

And while we're still speaking of elevation, I should also mention, that despite it being an awe-radiating phenomenon, it can also be a huge pain in the ass at times. Going downhill is usually fine, even though is all depends on the steepness of the slope. Gravity feels like your friend when the slope is manageable, but if it's too steep, it is literally trying to kill you. So keep safe out there. However, usually the biggest issue is going up. Especially on a hot and sunny day. It is very energy-consuming and it dehydrates you quickly. So keep yourself hydrated and take a break, even if you sometimes feel like you can push forward. I know that this paragraph might feel like I've strayed off from the main topic, that being forest paths, and... yes. Yes, I did. But I think it is also important to mention the perils of exploring these paths and overall your environment as a whole. Especially when you're alone, like I often am. I do enjoy the grit and difficulty of such exploration, it gives the trip it's authenticity and it feels more rewarding, but I also don't want to over-romanticize it, because this activity can be dangerous and even fatal if you're not careful, which I often am not to be quite frank.

Wildlife

When navigating such paths, most of the time we see plants. Trees, bushes, grasses, flowers, mosses, ferns... And while flora is a very important and equally beautiful part of nature, we cannot forget about the fauna. Forest is a home to many diverse species, one can encounter along these paths. And even though many animals, I feel, stray from such areas, because they can be frequented by humans, sometimes you can have an encounter with them. But for the purpose of having some order in this, I'll start from the smallest of the bunch, insects!

The first thing that comes to my mind with the mention of insects in the forest are ants. They are these tiny workers on a constant quest for something. It's really interesting to see the paths of their very own, which they often form. They are like these little highways. And they can be of any shape and any direction. Horizontal, but also vertical. I have seen ants forming this path on a tree trunk. And it's quite fun observing them, following them to their nest. And we are in the forest here, so their nests can range from tiny bumps to enormous anthills. I think we could even start calling them antmountains at this size. And it's also quite interesting to see how close to man-made paths these anthills can be. I've seen a couple of them right on the edge of the path. One that people use regularly. And they were these big kinds. It just shows how nonchalant they are to the vastness of the world around them. They are committed to a task, to keep the colony alive and thriving. That's all they care about. Truly a very intriguing bunch.
And while we're still at these eusocial insects, I cannot forget the bees. The forest is full of them during the summer. It's such a beautiful sight. I encounter them especially on blackberry bushes that grow on edges of exposed sun-lit paths. The way they buzz around, collect pollen, suck on the nectar. It's all so adorable. But on my journeys, I also often see a lot of butterflies, ladybugs, mosquitos, a bunch of land beetles.
Oh, and ticks! I cannot express how much suffering they've caused me. I constantly had to check myself for them every time I passed through a slightly larger area of grass. They were everywhere. I could easily travel a few meters through an area with lush foliage and I already had like 10 of them crawling on my pants. It might have been their breeding season. Because I am used to ticks, but back then it was insane. I have never encountered such thing before. Though this was in June. As the summer went by, the tick rates have gone down and it was finally bearable. But getting them off was such a tedious and annoying task. These little pests are clingy as hell. I guess this is what I get for doing what I love.

As for some bigger animals, I always wanted to encounter a fox in the forest. I have seen many foxes over the course of my life, but every time, it was in the village as the fox has wandered from the woods. The fox sightings are very common during the night though. And it is a beautiful experience for sure. When they are further away, you have a hard time telling if it's a fox or a dog. A lot of people are scared of them, because of rabies, but as far as I know, there are no instances of rabid animals in that area. For some time, Slovakia was considered one of the rabies-free countries, but this status was recently revoked, because they found an infected animal somewhere within our borders.
However, what I had a fair share of meeting on these paths were deer. Often times it was a direct sighting. And it's really interesting how they behave in these situations. Because at first, they completely freeze. I guess it takes them some time to evaluate the situation. And then they flee rapidly. You can hear them getting further and further as they do. But sometimes, we don't even see each other. They just hear me, get spooked. Depending on the deer species, they also make different sounds. I remember this encounter with a roe deer, when we didn't see each other, because it was somewhere within the bushes of young birches and beeches. And the moment the deer starts to bark and move. It is beautiful, but also kind of scary at the same time. You get confronted with the fact that you are in nature, and this is their home, not yours. You are just visiting. And when that roe deer started to bark, it was an experience for sure. I obviously grabbed some stick laying around and started to slam it on surrounding rocks and ground to make sure it knows where I am and how close, to lure it away. It worked. As it always does. But when the deer starts to run away, when you hear how heavy the animal sounds, you realize the mass and scale of it. These are some truly beautiful experiences. Can be scary, but also marvelous. And the same goes for red deer. Even though I feel like I mostly had visible encounters with it. Seeing the wide antlers. Again, such a majestic creature. But when I hear it, it's mostly a call from far away echoing through the trees.
Wild boars are also very interesting animals. I don't think I ever had a face-to-face encounter with one. At least I was not aware of it. Despite my admiration, I am aware of the danger they may pose, so I try to avoid them. But I am pretty sure I met a boar hidden in tall grass once. We were on a walk with a friend of mine and suddenly, we heard a very loud and heavy thud. An animal launched itself to run away from us. We spooked something. At first we immediately thought it was just a deer. But we both heard a startled deer, running away, plenty of times. This one was different. It sounded differently. It was slower than a deer, and the thuds felt much more forceful. So we went to a conclusion that we had probably met a boar.

Stories

As I was roaming these paths, one thing was bugging me a lot. I was curious, I had questions. Questions about the paths. Questions like "who made them?" or "for what purpose?" It intrigued me very much, because these paths for sure have stories to tell. I mean, it is quite obvious that despite their beauty, they were made primarily out of utility. These woods serve as an area to harvest lumber and when I was exploring the forest, I often heard the sounds of machinery and people hard at work. But even if the answers to these question are quite obvious, or at least easy to assume, it still intrigues me. I still find it intriguing to imagine all the kinds of people that walked these paths, just like I was doing back then. It could be a worker, carrying a log, adding it to a pile at the edge of the path, which there were plenty of. I am also quite wondering what is their purpose. These woods, they are, sadly, a private property, owned by an individual, or the property of the state. I always assumed that these log piles are just there for storage purposes, still awaiting their further transportation. But then when I was having a talk with my grandma, she mentioned that people from the village take these logs home, for numerous reasons. A lot of residents still have these big old stoves, fueled by wood. I think that almost every house in Lesíček I've been to, has this kind of stove. Some of them aren't used anymore, I mean, they all have modern ovens and stuff. But some people still use these old stoves as well. You can cook on them and they keep the kitchen warm during the winter. Actually, they are very practical to this day. Alright, but I got a little sidetracked there. The point is, every single house in this village has their own wood piles in the yard. Wood is still a very common and important fuel. Be it for an occasional campfire for a summer barbecue or as a crucial source of heat in the winter. And I think that these forest woodpiles have this very purpose. To serve the people. And it also makes sense, considering these piles often contain logs that are way shorter than what one would expect to be a regular lumber yield. But at the same time, these logs, they often just sit there. For days, weeks, months, sometimes even years. And as nobody takes them, not the lumber company, nor people from the village, they start to rot. Which at least makes a useful breeding ground for all the different kinds of bugs and fungi. And also, when it decomposes completely, it will prove as a fertilizer for the forest as a whole.
But now back to the workers that work in these woods. Another thing I am noticing on these paths is the variety in scale, or width. And in some cases, you can even see the tire tracks that are stapled into the ground, implying a presence of heavy machinery. It makes you wonder how much has the lumber industry changed over the years. How much it industrialized. Back in the day, you'd imagine personnel equipped with axes and saws, transporting the wood using horsepower, often taking advantage of a river if there is any prominent and usable one nearby. Now you'd hardly imagine something like that. And we don't think about these things, but they do shape the way these forest paths can look, or even where they lead. If your mode of transport changes, the path-making also needs to adjust. Where we now walk, we might have not in the past. These paths, in a very far stretch, but still, they make you think of how things were before, how people used to work here in these woods, how the transport was managed.

These paths can also function as an important system of "veins," tying one village with the others. Or overall leading to different kinds of useful places, connecting them, making them way more accessible. I genuinely believe, that back in the day, it was much more common to visit neighboring villages using these very paths. Now, the faster, more accessible and convenient way is using a regular road, paved with asphalt, but back when car travel wasn't as accessible as it it nowadays, these paths must've been so vital for day-to-day life of local people. This summer, I myself have experience this when I was endlessly following one major path I found. I didn't know where it would lead me, so I obviously went further and further, until I eventually started to hear something. Voices. Voices and general ambience of a village. I went further and there it was. Houses, roads, fields. It was Tuhrina, the neighboring village. I was there countless of times, especially in my younger years when grandma was taking me there from time to time, as she worked at the local municipal office. And also some past summers I took a few bike trips there with my friends. But I have never been aware of this alternative to get there. I knew that it was possible, that ways to get there through the forest exist, but I didn't know what paths to take specifically. So eventually, I ended up on this path that surrounded the village. Or, well... the side facing the forest. It was very much clear that nobody walked this one for a longer time, as it was heavily overgrown by patches of stinging nettle. But eventually, this path merged into another one, and the foliage wasn't that much of an issue anymore. And even though now I know that these paths, they are a major network, all connected at multiple joints. I wasn't aware of the network's extent at the moment, so I was ecstatic I found a connection between the two villages, just like that, by myself. Well... I was aware of some paths that joined the main road close to the village, but not directly into it.
I also remember my grandma telling me, when we were on a walk, on a path totally unrelated to the one I just talked about, that in the past, there wasn't a church in Lesíček where our family could go to. There was one, but of different branch. So every Sunday (roughly), she had to go through such path to the neighboring village, Abranovce, just to go to church. Which shows how crucial to everyday life these paths were back in the days.

However, some paths may seem more effective, more important and thus are preferred over others. On my journeys, I got to witness this first hand. Some were in, one could say, perfect condition. Wide, clear, the terrain was flat (as much as it can be in a forest), overall, they were pleasant to walk on. Even though I think they were kept that way mostly for vehicles. One really big one even had rocks in it, which definitely was helping it being stronger and more cohesive. However, it wasn't really clear to me whether these rocks were deliberately put there, or if it's a natural occurrence that benefited the path-makers. With the way these rocks were placed, some as part of the soil, some just laying there, it looked to me like they had fallen from a higher place. Which would make sense. The path was contouring a large hill, at top of which I was multiple times and can confirm, there are a lot of rocks of various sizes. But that is just my assumption. Who knows how these rocks really got there. Anyway, some paths are well kept, like this one, but then there are paths that, aren't so much. It's obvious there isn't much of a use to them anymore and they are overgrown now. With tall grass, weeds, herbs, and such. As I was threading one of these paths, I noticed that a lot of mint was growing there, so I took a bite here and there. It was tasty and refreshing. I think it was horse mint, specifically. But I could be wrong. Oh and these paths, they were swarming with ticks.
Then, there were paths, which I don't even know if I should call them that, because they were completely abandoned. These "paths", they were overgrown, but like on a whole another level. They are pretty much part of the forest now. Of course, there are ones where it is way more obvious there was a path someday. I found one when I was walking on an already established, clean, well maintained path. And then, it just ended. There was clear indication that it continues on, to a degree, but there was a literal tree in the way. It was obviously very young. It had ~3 meters in height, and at this point, it still resembled more of a bush rather than a full grown tree. But it was a growing beech tree non the less. Obviously, I had to know what's behind it. There was a lot of the overgrown path visible among the branches. So I scratched my way through and was met with a very grassy remains of what once was a path. I tried to get further, but the grass was full of ticks and it was very obvious that the foliage would just get thicker and thicker, so I eventually gave up and returned back. But it is still quite weird how a regular road, that was in a good condition, ended all of a sudden.
Oh, and I have one more encounter with abandoned paths. I was once again on my regular stroll following a well-kept path. I mean, this path specifically is a bit more special, at least to me, because it has it's very unique vibe. It's hard to explain, but it's one of these moments where the elevation, the surrounding trees, the open sky and the greenery of it all, it hits that perfect spot and makes the path feel insanely special. Actually, this very path is probably the biggest reason why I decided to write the post in the first place. But as I was walking this path, suddenly I noticed an offshoot from it. And even though it looked like another path that could lead me someplace, I soon encountered a blockade of fallen trees, standing in my way. It was a somewhat of an uncommon view for the region. It's not something I am very familiar with there. If a tree falls, it's usually not onto a path. People always make sure to cut down the trees that seem like they might pose a hazard to people or a possible future blockage. And even if a tree would fall onto a path, I am quite confident that it would be cleared up quickly. This was a bit deeper in the woods, not in the shallow parts, but still, the trees looked like they are lying there for a long time. So my curiosity got better of me and I had to explore further. But what I was met with were just some other sticks and branches on the ground and a ton of foliage. The thing is, it looked like there was some partial outline of a once existing path. The alignment of trees and the way the ground looked indicated it. But the path was no more. I was intrigued, but the bush-like nature of the young beech trees and overall shape of the terrain made it difficult to traverse. And obviously, I didn't want to become a hotel for the ticks. Their peak was long gone, but they were still there, hiding in the foliage. However, it was a very interesting experience because I was directly confronted by a totally abandoned path. And it seemed like it was leading down into a valley between these two big hills. I assume that nothing overly interesting awaits me at it's end, but I still would like to know what's there. I will most likely return there one day. Maybe sooner than I think since now it's the season where the trees don't have any leaves and the visibility is increased. But the mud would make the entire experience very painful, so I'd rather wait for the ground to freeze up in the winter.

And also, we cannot forget, that casual wanderers use these paths just as much. When I am roaming these woods, I am often alone. And I like it that way. I expect to be alone. It provides me with the freedom of exploration. I can go wherever I want, whenever I want. Without bothering anyone. But from time to time, I meet someone. Not deep in the woods of course, but in the more shallow parts, near the villages, I do. And despite my reluctance towards others, especially when I just want to enjoy the world around me, it can be a beautiful sight. It's just really nice to see someone spending their free time in nature. Especially after a good storm from a previous hot summer day. All these people, using these paths, to get to their secret spots where they know mushrooms can be found. But even if I'd rather not meet anybody, at all, I still like the idea that there were people before me, and there will be people after, using the same rough paths, experiencing the nature in it's full glory. Be it for work reasons or out of recreation.

Getting Lost

This part can maybe feel a bit weird for some. Especially as I previously wrote an entire paragraph about being safe in the woods, but oh boy how I love getting lost while exploring. And okay, I should elaborate, because there is getting lost, and then getting truly lost. What I mean is, I love being "lost" in the forest. Not really knowing where I'm heading specifically, just being led by the path, seeing where it'll take me. Seeing old, well-known places is nice, it's nature, It will never get old. But exploring new ones is even better. And I like getting to know all the different paths I've never walked before. Seeing all the possible ways to choose from, when facing a junction. It drives me further, and I want to see it all, even if it's one goliath of a task. I love following a path, and then getting intrigued by some view, or a tall hill, and I just stray off, going to pursue this new path, I have created for me. And then finding some other pathway, following that one further, and again getting distracted, eventually getting to so many diverse places, seeing it all, seeing it in such a spontaneous manner.
But then there are these moments when you realize what time it is. How long you've been on your journey. And how far you've wandered. And it dawns on you. You need to get back. Even in the summer, when the sun sets late, it does set eventually. While I personally wouldn't mind getting back home when it gets dark, my grandma gets worried. And I don't want to scare her by returning home when it's night completely. So the less enjoyable part of getting lost comes in full action. And I can always get home safely just by backtracking, but let's be honest, where's the fun in that. So I always go forward, trying to find paths that might lead me home. I know that it might not be the smartest move, especially with my rooted grudge against using technology in the wilderness. I mean, I refuse to use Google Maps to find out my location, unless I really need to be sure I am going the right way. But hey, I am still aware of the general direction where the home is. So even if I didn't manage to find a good path that could lead me there, I can always just take a straight line to the village. It would be insanely inefficient, trying to get through all the thick foliage and unwalkable terrain, but it is still an option. And also, during these attempt to get home using a new way, I have experienced some of the prettiest moments of my life. One notable is when I was in this coniferous part of the forest. And mind you, vast majority of this forest is deciduous. Seeing a spruce or a pine is quite rare. Because of this, these trees are very well visible from afar, because they are darker than the rest. And now just imagine strolling through one of these areas. A major one, at least for what's standard in these woods. Being encompassed by spruces from all sides. Following a path covered in brown fallen-down needles. During a sunset, specifically the golden hour. And at the same time, witnessing a vast and beautiful view on my right side. I don't really know how to explain it really, because it was such a beautiful moment. And all my attempts at it would in no way do it right.
So even though getting lost might be a scary thought, and to be honest, it rightfully is, it can also yield some of the most unforgettable experiences as well. But hey, unless you 100% know what you're doing, and that you can always safely get back home, don't attempt it. It's not safe at all.

Afterword

And that's it. I still don't believe I did justice to the beauty of forest paths and the moments you get to experience while navigating them. Huge chunks of this post are just things I started to think about when writing. And even though a lot of them are far stretches, in the end, they still do relate to these paths. Without them, I probably wouldn't even be thinking about these topics, or at least not in such depth.
I already know that I might not have said everything I wanted, and immediately as I publish it, I will remember all these things I've forgotten, but I still think this is enough for now. Who knows, I might re-visit this topic in the future, and give some additional insight. Or maybe not.

Anyway, whoever reads this and wherever you are, take care and I wish you'll have a great time experiencing the Great Outdoors.