I again made an early start as I was expecting a long day. First I had to climb out of the steep sided, forested valley in which the village of Makov lined a busy road. Leaving the noise of the traffic behind, passing a few houses perched on the hillside, I climbed through the woods until I reached a summit. It was an area where trees had been cut down so I could see the track winding ahead of me to the next stand of mature trees. Some of the trees today, whether beech or conifers were extremely tall.
My first milestone was reaching a trail heading west, where I switched from the red waymarked trail to a blue one, only to revert to a red track after a few kilometres. Beside me, at regular intervals, I noticed the white boundary stones with red tops that I had seen on the Polish border earlier on my trip. This time they marked the border between Slovakia (the "S" on one side of the stone) and Czechia (marked with a "C"). Following the border by occasional houses led me to the Bumbalka Pass and a major road. As I approached I could hear the whine of lorries straining as they were driven up to the Pass, where they left one country and arrived at the next without stopping. I had hoped for some refreshments but nothing was open. A stall might open on another day, but the "Motorest" looked unlikely to open ever again. A backpacker, hitching a lift, exchanged a few pleasantries with me before running after a car that stopped for him.
The red route continued uphill along the border under the trees until it decided to commit itself to Czechia. I passed a closed looking hotel with a short ski tow before my route returned me to the road (on a yellow trail), crossing it I started on the ridge (on a red trail) which I would follow for the rest of the day.
After walking uphill for a while the trail I began the the usual trek up and down hills among conifers in various stages of maturity. At one point I heard the whine of a chainsaw. After passing warning signs I deviated into the surrounding forest, giving a man trimming branches off felled trees a wide berth.
Reaching Martiňák where there is a "wellness" hotel, I stopped at the attached restaurant and bought a hot dog for my lunch. Perhaps my small dinner last night made me hungrier than usual as I was then drawn to a "sweet thing". I ordered a blueberry dumpling. The large fluffy white dumpling contained a blueberry compôt which also formed a pool in which the dumpling proudly sat.
During the morning my left knee had been giving me pain and refused to bend properly, causing me to stumble on rocks and tree roots. After lunch however it seemed much better which surprised me, as normally stoping for a while causes it to stiffen. Maybe the ibuprofen I had taken three hours earlier was taking effect or else it just liked blueberry dumplings!
I started along a single track road in the direction indicated by a signpost. After a little while I checked my GPS and found I was not on the route I had loaded from Waymarkedtrails.org. I climbed up through trees to what I thought was the correct route. This was marked with green waymarks. Checking my phone I found this was incorrect, the E3 should here be following red waymarks, my gpx track was wrong! So I had to retrace my steps to the single track road.
This was an excellent route, at least for my knee, as the road was surfaced with smooth tarmac and contoured the ridge rather than attempting all of its summits. There were no cars, only cyclists freewheeling down the shallow gradient that I was progressing up. As I approached Pustevney, the E3 branched off up a side path, gaining height rapidly to deliver me to my hotel.
The old hotel was occupied by large numbers of excited school children, I had seen some of them out in the woods on my way. Pustevney is a curious place. Created by the Radhošt Mountain Society between 1891 and 1926, there were a few striking buildings with many decorative features in wood and paint. This evening there are many people about. Backpackers, cyclists, groups of men drinking beer, children and parents. Pustevney is, as was intended, a place for tourists.
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