Neamţu (1,923 m) and Bobul Mic (1,752 m) in the Baiului Mountains

In August 2023, I participated in Summer Crossing 2023, a hiking camp organized by the Student Mountain Club (SKG) in Warsaw. Carrying heavy backpacks, we traversed three Romanian ranges: Bucegi, Baiului, and Ciucaș. We slept in tents, cooked over campfires, and spent entire days together. The longest part of our journey was the trek through the Baiului Mountains—a wild and unknown range where we encountered far more sheep and shepherd dogs than people. The aesthetics of this place were unique: endless gentle ridges, powerful alpine meadows, and vast panoramic views. In this post, I will focus on the trek through the eastern part of Baiului, including the ascent of Neamţu (1,923 m a.s.l.)—the highest peak of the range. There will be plenty of beautiful views, rapidly changing weather, a grueling search for water in dried-up ravines, and a hair-raising adventure involving a nocturnal encounter with an armed shepherd. Stay with me!

This post is the third part of a series about Summer Crossing 2023. Describing this expedition, I focus both on the natural values of the ranges we visited and the organization of a 19-person hiking camp, combined with an internal exam for the guide title of the Student Mountain Club. You can find the first part of the story at this link (Bucegi Mountains), and the second part here (western part of the Baiului range).

Table of contents

• Neamţu (1,923 m a.s.l.) – the highest peak of the Baiului range
• The art of searching for water
• A shot in the dark
• Trekking through the eastern reaches of the Baiului range
• A visit to the shepherd’s hut
• Bobul Mic and Pasul Bratocea

Neamţu (1,923 m a.s.l.) – highest peak of the Baiului range [August 15, 2023]

Today, I emerge from the tent a bit earlier than usual—a few minutes after 6:00 AM. This is because Martyna and I have been assigned to help with breakfast. The order is given by Alicja, who took over the duties of group guide from Paulina yesterday evening. So, we boil water for tea, staring with sleepy eyes at the disc of the rising sun. We spent the night in a beautiful spot—on a shallow pass between the peaks of Rusu (1,903 m a.s.l.) and Stevia (1,907 m a.s.l.). It is no wonder that both yesterday’s sunset and today’s sunrise were undoubtedly the best of our entire Romanian trip.

We set off on our way again a few minutes after 9:00 AM. While the sun was incredibly strong all day yesterday, today it is cold and drizzly. But you know how it is: there is no point in getting too attached to the weather in the mountains. So, we walk dressed in raincoats with covers stretched over our backpacks. Our trail, meanwhile, leads along a green, extensive ridge, offering wide panoramas in every direction. As in previous days, the immensity of the local meadows and the vast spaces make the greatest impression on me.

One kilometer after leaving the camp, we check in at the first peak of the day—Stevia (1,907 m a.s.l.). The marked trail traverses the mountain from the west, but a clear, trodden path leads to the summit itself. From Stevia, we descend to a shallow pass and then begin a low-demand ascent to Neamţu (1,923 m a.s.l.). We reach the highest peak of Baiului after walking 4 kilometers from our campsite, around 10:30 AM. The panorama from here is exceptionally vast, including dozens of surrounding peaks of the Baiului, Bucegi, and nearby Ciucaș ranges. We take a short break, admiring with wonder the meadows surrounding us from every side. The highest peak is not marked with any plaque, only a smudge of pink paint on a rock.

After successfully reaching Neamţu, we continue the trek along the green, wide ridge. We descend to the Șaua Paltinu pass (1,790 m a.s.l.) and then traverse Paltinu mountain (1,900 m a.s.l.). In this way, over the next few kilometers, we lose over 600 meters in altitude, following the grassy meadows for most of the time. Our trail does not look frequently used, but its course at this stage is quite obvious. We enter the dense forest only at an altitude of about 1,400 m a.s.l. Shortly after, we reach the lowest point of today’s trek—Pasul Predeluș (1,295 m a.s.l.), through which an asphalt road runs from Câmpina to Brașov.

The art of searching for water

Shortly after the pass, a longer stop awaits us—Alicja announces a dinner break. We drop our heavy backpacks on the ground and set out for our assigned duties. I volunteer for the expedition to search for water. Since the beginning of the trip, I have heard a lot about the difficult art of finding hard-to-reach ravines. So, when the opportunity arises, I want to experience it on my own skin. I set out for water with Martyna, Kuba, and Agata, and we are all equipped with large bags and a supply of plastic bottles. Since all decisions on the trip are made by the guide, Alicja points us in the direction we should go.

We descend a steep, densely forested slope (exactly what the Beskid-dwelling side of my family would call a “grapa”). The good news is that we manage to locate the ravine quite efficiently. The bad news—the stream turns out to be almost completely dry. We carefully descend down the slope, looking for a place where at least a bit of water breaks through from the ravine. We find a small spring only at an altitude of about 1,200 m a.s.l. The water flows into the bottles incredibly slowly, but there isn’t much choice—you won’t find shelters in the Baiului range, and the group needs something to drink. So, we draw and draw, balancing on the edge of our patience. The quality of the water leaves much to be desired, but don’t worry—we don’t drink it straight from the ravine; the contents of each bottle must be thoroughly boiled before consumption. We work in two groups—at the top, Kuba and I are drawing water, while Martyna and Agata are a bit lower. When our spring completely refuses to cooperate, we decide to take what we have and deliver it to the rest of our group (guessing that the lack of water is significantly delaying the dinner preparation). So, the girls continue drawing, while we start the process of carrying a pile of water-filled bottles up the forest slope. It may not be the easiest task, but we manage and shortly after deliver the water to the kitchen crew.

Since our temporary camp is located right on the forest path, lighting a campfire is out of the question. The water must therefore be boiled on tourist gas canisters, of which we have at least a few left on this trip. Standard procedure… but this time something clearly goes wrong. One of the lit gas canisters explodes with a bang… and a moment later the same thing happens with three others. Although eventually the pot with water lands on the gas, our supply of canisters is significantly depleted for reasons not entirely explained. Meanwhile… the girls still haven’t returned from the ravine. Perhaps it’s the effect of fatigue, but from minute to minute my brain starts projecting increasingly catastrophic visions. I think to myself: how could I do this? Leave my own sister in some dark, Romanian ravine? I feel like running there, but Alicja’s position is clear and rational: I am to stay and try to calm down. The girls, however, actually return from the ravine, happy and laden with the remaining part of the plastic bottle supply we possessed.

A shot in the dark

After dinner, the lead changes again—this time Janek becomes our guide. A few minutes after resuming the trek, we emerge above the tree line again—back onto the grassy meadows. Our trail now leads some distance from the main Baiului ridge, making it slightly more difficult for orientation. In the current fragment of the hike, we reach the highest altitude 3.5 kilometers after leaving the pass, during the traverse of the summit of Sloeru Mărcușanu (1,592 m a.s.l., the trail’s course reaches an altitude of approx. 1,570 m a.s.l.). The sun is slowly setting, but Janek persistently leads us along the grassy slopes. Sometimes we follow a beaten path, other times we push through a thicket of stunted conifers. While the morning welcomed us with rain and cold, the afternoon and evening turned out to be very pleasant. From the ridges of Baiului, fantastic views of the nearby peaks stretch out uninterruptedly. The eastern part of the range (which we will traverse tomorrow) and the rocky Ciucaș mountains (where we plan to arrive the day after tomorrow) are becoming increasingly visible.

It’s already 8:00 PM when we descend the steep slope of Sloeru Mărcușanu mountain. At the pass (approx. 1,350 m a.s.l.), we spot a lonely farm occupied by a shepherd, the animals he raises, and a pack of fierce dogs. While so far we had been lucky with friendly four-legged friends, these ones here give us quite a scare. Accompanied by loud barking and menacing growling, we form a sort of turtle formation and move steadily forward. Luckily for us, the dogs limit themselves only to deterring us, and once we are far enough away, they lose interest. Past the farm, we enter the forest, only to emerge back into open space shortly after at an altitude of approx. 1,400 m a.s.l.

Soon dusk falls, and Janek continues to lead us across the grassy meadows. No one can stop him (or even suggest anything to him), because that is what this exam is about—roughly, it is meant to verify whether the candidate is able to independently handle the role of group guide. We are, however, already tired, discouraged by a difficult day, and would like to set up the tents as soon as possible. Suddenly… A shot! We stop; a moment of consternation follows. What was that? Did someone really fire at us? What is happening? Where the hell are we!?

I won’t act like a hero—it’s not an easy moment. We are all standing frozen, completely unsure of what we should actually do next. Janek is the first to snap out of the marasmus and… starts running exactly in the direction of the shot. The supervisors do not react, not even for a moment bending the rules of the guide exam. When Janek disappears into the darkness, the tension in the group clearly rises. Alicja starts moving among the participants of the tour, handing out “gummies for a black hour” to everyone. Unwanted thoughts appear in the head: after all, something bad really could happen to him. Fortunately, however, Janek returns to us very quickly. It turns out the shot was fired by a local shepherd who… mistook us for a group of Roma. As soon as it turns out that we are tourists from Poland, the farmer completely changes his militant attitude: he shows us a convenient place to set up camp and warns us about a bear den nearby. It looks like we have a happy ending… So we go to the indicated place and set up the camp as quickly as possible. Despite the late hour and, to put it mildly, the far-from-best morale, we gather firewood, light a fire, and prepare something warm to eat. Since sending a crew for water is out of the question in the current circumstances, we rationally distribute our remaining supply among all participants. We go to sleep today well after midnight. From tomorrow morning, Agata takes over the lead.

Trip date: August 15, 2023

Trip statistics: 24 km, 820 meters of elevation gain [including the water expedition]

Trekking through the eastern reaches of the Baiului range [August 16, 2023]

On the morning of August 16, 2023, we are woken up by a powerful storm. Thunder and lightning are uncomfortably close to our camp. However, Agata’s good task coordination and calm disposition allow us to efficiently pack up the tents, prepare food, and set off around 10:00 AM. And how do you think we manage to replenish our water supply? Well, through our shepherd friend, of course. The host invites us into his hut and generously treats us to cheese he produced himself. At one point, even a homemade tincture appears on the table, but we aren’t allowed to taste that. The trip is non-alcoholic, and this is an extremely important rule for the Warsaw SKG (which, by the way, I personally respect very much).

The visit to the shepherd seems to me not only a pleasant interlude but also a journey through time, a true relic of the past. For until quite recently, all across the Carpathians, after St. Adalbert’s day, thousands of shepherds would leave their comfortable beds and go high into the mountains with large flocks of sheep. The whole summer was spent in wretched shacks, tending to animals and producing massive quantities of cheese. Shepherding was a basic element of the Carpathian economy and had a colossal impact on shaping the unique highlander culture. The pioneers in this regard were the Vlachs, a Romance people, inventors of, among other things, the unique technique of burning mountain glades. It was they who, as soon as there was no more room on their native meadows, began a long journey along the Carpathian arc. They also reached Poland, introducing pastoral customs to the Tatras and Beskids. And how lasting these traditions were is evidenced by numerous similarities that can still be observed between Polish and Romanian highlanders (manifesting themselves, among other things, in traditional architecture, folk costumes and dances, borrowings from Vlach speech into the dialect of Polish highlanders, and a shared love of freedom…). It’s no wonder that this honest man from the Baiului Mountains becomes in my eyes not only a shepherd but also a guardian, continuator, and guarantor of ancient Carpathian customs.

Bobul Mic and Pasul Bratocea

After leaving the shepherd’s hut and saying goodbye to its cheerful host, we continue the hike through the wild Baiului Mountains. We enter the forest now, walking through it for just over two kilometers. We emerge back onto the endless meadows at an altitude of about 1,400 m a.s.l. For nearly ten kilometers, we will now follow the open space, offering beautiful panoramas in every direction. Behind us, we see the Bucegi range we have already traversed and the western part of the Baiului mountains. Ahead of us looms the rocky Ciucaș range, which we intend to explore tomorrow. The first stage of the hike across the meadows takes us on an ascent to the southern summit of Bobul Mic (approx. 1,750 m a.s.l.). The trail looks rarely used, but clearly stands out with a rut worn into the earth. The ascent is difficult because we make it in the company of a powerful gale. In the upper parts of the ridge, the wind becomes so strong that we are able to “lay down” on it. Thus, in the Romanian mountains over the course of a few days, we complete probably every possible type of mountain weather :D.

Fortunately for us, during the descent from Bobul Mic, the wind doesn’t bother us as much anymore. We can fully appreciate the values of the endless spaces surrounding us and the interesting view of the rocky slope of the Fața lui Gherghel ridge (1,685 m a.s.l.). Around 5:00 PM, Agata orders a longer dinner break, combined with the possibility of washing ourselves. We scatter across the open terrain, looking for a bit of privacy on the grassy meadow. After the break, walking along a wide, dirt road, we descend to Pasul Bratocea (1,272 m a.s.l.), separating the Baiului range from the Ciucaș Mountains. Through the pass runs the asphalt road No. DN1A, connecting Brașov with Ploiești. In this way, we finish the multi-day hike through the beautiful meadows of the Baiului Mountains, starting the last stage of our Romanian hike. Today we are already camping in the Ciucaș range, at an altitude of about 1,300 m a.s.l., about a kilometer from the pass.

The final part of the description of the Romanian adventure, covering the trek through the Ciucaș range, can be found at this link.

Trip date: August 16, 2023

Trip statistics: 19 km; 860 meters of elevation gain

Thanks to Alicja Szostak (see IG!) and Michał Kobryń (see IG!) for sharing beautiful photos!

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