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Updated: Dec 16, In Greek mythology, there were a lot of monsters, heroes, and deities, but the most important were the 12 gods of the Pantheon who congregated on Mt. Zeus was the king of the gods, and he was the first to colonize the peak, but a dozen others also eventually set up their thrones there: Artemis, Apollo, Athena, Poseidon, Aphrodite, the whole crew. If the Greeks built the Parthenon in Athens without modern technology, surely they could have figured out how to get to the top of Olympus. My own pilgrimage to Olympus was only lightly planned, and I arrived through a roundabout series of events. It was our first time traveling in years, so we decided to take some time to explore Greece prior to the event. Looking for places to visit other than insanely popular tourist spots like Santorini and Mykonos, we decided to base ourselves in Thessaloniki for a few days at the beginning of our trip. When I was doing some research about outdoor activities in the area, I made the connection that Olympus National Park was just a short distance away, and you could get to the summit on an overnight hike. From there I would catch a taxi to Prionia, the highest point that you can reach by car, and I would start my ascent. Emerging from a period of lockdown, disease and despair, an old school pilgrimage to the top of a holy mountain seemed like a great way to shake off the dust of the previous two years. You can see the peak from Prionia, but only in the distance. The town itself, if you can call it that, is really just a parking lot, a surprisingly decent cafe, a public restroom and a Greek Orthodox monastery. I headed in overpacked but well prepared if I got stuck out in a storm or an attack by the Titans. It was late May, the sun was shining, the air was warm and dry. When I arrived in Litochoro, the first taxi driver I approached told me that Prionia was much too far from the station so it was impossible to get a ride there. It was an easy day to enjoy - this first overseas outing in years - and the initial stage of the hike felt idyllic. I arrived at the refuge by mid-afternoon, Spilios Agapitos. It was just as advertised - beds distributed through multiple structures of gray stone and dark wood perched on a hillside, with forest and peaks all around. I swiped my credit card, ordered a Mythos lager and sat down on a bench with a view of the valley below. After years in a bubble, it felt surreal to be surrounded by travelers again. It was a bit surprising because we were well into the mountains, but like so many other hostels around the world, there were also a couple of dogs who seemed to be making a living by begging scraps off of travelers. Jetlag, beer and a day in the sun were catching up with me, so I was happy to socialize mainly with them through the afternoon. I had the house spaghetti for dinner, shared a meatball with a brown mutt with sad eyes, and was asleep in bed by 7 pm. In the darkness of the bunkroom, I was wide awake from midnight until 2, and then again at 4. I passed some time reading until 5 when I decided that I should start climbing at first light. My plan was to work my way to the summit, and then follow the downhill trail all the way back to Litochoro rather than catching the taxi from Prionia. Leaving early would give me plenty of time to make the 15 mile round trip before the train back to Thessaloniki in the afternoon. You pass above tree line shortly after the refuge, into spectacular open views of snowfields and scree and peaks all around, but also full exposure to sun and the elements. The previously well-graded trail shifts to a steep uphill grind before eventually developing into a scramble at Mytikas, where the hostel highly recommended that climbers wear helmets. Thirty minutes into the climb, as the sun was still rising, I recognized the silhouette of my friend ahead on the trail, the brown mutt from the refuge. Out for her daily constitutional. She carried on ahead, staying within sight, occasionally looking back towards me. The view behind me was broad and open, all vast snow fields and jagged grey rock. If the first segment of trail had reminded me of the Trinity Alps, here there were shades of the High Sierra, with bare peaks jutting out of forests of scrubby pine for miles. They gradually made their way to me and fell in behind at a lazy trot, barely panting while I struggled along. The trail developed into a path through scree up a steep incline, until we made it to a small flat ledge where a couple of hikers were resting, accompanied by another dog with colorings reminiscent of an Australian Shepherd, long white and blue fur, appearing clean, relaxed and well-groomed given the environment here near the summit of Olympus. I dropped my back, put my feet up and caught my breath. I ate a chocolate-covered wafer cookie, drank some water and carried on. The sun was shining, we were surrounded by a panorama of Olympian peaks, and there was no one else between us and the summit. In Greek mythology, wolves are most often associated with Apollo and Artemis, both of whom are Pantheon gods whose thrones were believed to be close by, here on Olympus. The two were siblings, born to Zeus and Hera, a goddess who herself had the ability to shape shift into a wolf. Wolves are also associated with a guy named Lycaon, which gives a less positive impression. Lycaon was a wiley king who tried to trick Zeus into eating a roast baby to test whether he was all-knowing. Zeus transformed into a man-wolf when he sorted it out. Generally speaking, in my experience dog temperaments tend to match to the culture of their country of origin. In inner city Lima, Peru, on the other hand, I once stayed in a house whose neighbors kept a guard dog on the unfinished second floor that I saw eating glass. They were cute, even, although petting them did leave my hands smelling a bit musky, like earth, sulfur and compost. Here, with just us and the mountain ahead, it started to feel like we were forming a relationship. The steep climb tops out at a crossroads on a ridge called Skala, where hikers have a choice to turn left towards a secondary peak called Skolio, which is a much easier walk, or right towards Mytikas and, one can assume, the glorious throne of Zeus. While I was admiring the scenery, two of the three remaining dogs trotted off to the left towards Skolio. I turned right on the trail towards Mytikas, a lone white companion following behind. Your vision towards Mytikas is blocked through most of the climb, but on the ridge at Skala, the wind picks up and you reach the edge of a precipitous cliff with panoramic views of crags, valleys, and a scattering of the 52 sub-peaks of Olympus. The day was clear and beautiful, but to be honest, the view ahead was ominous. It was a thousand feet of sheer cliff rising from the valley below. The route to the top was visible in the distance, crawling along a razors edge of jagged rock that dropped off into an abyss on either side. Now I was on my own on the ridge with just the dogs of Olympus. I could see two of them in the distance looking on from the trail to Skolio while I started to downclimb on the route towards Mytikas. I looked back at my lone remaining companion perched on a ledge above me. She might have seemed feral and dirty if she were on the streets in Thessaloniki but here in the mountains she was a graceful messenger of the gods. She held intense eye contact for a moment, eyes dark and wise, then blinked and turned back. I hesitated while I watched her work her way back towards Skolio, hopping confidently across rocks and scree. Jews, Christians, Muslims and Hindus all have similar stories. To stand on the top of a mountain is to stand on the head of an ancestor. I imagined descending Mytikas through the line of other hikers who were working their way up Olympus behind me. I imagined rockfall, thunder and lightning crashing down around me for effect. They were there trying to help me, warding off evil. I decided to follow the dogs. I abandoned the path towards the razors edge, scrambled back up the rock, and chased the shepherd until we joined with the others back at the crossroads. For a moment I felt like Apollo, god of wolves, expressing my respect for my father Zeus with my pack of wolf familiar. Recognizing the rustling, the dogs stood and began to creep towards me, two ahead and one behind. I was sitting, vulnerable, so our faces were at about the same height. They were snapping at each other now, jostling for position, growling, hair raised on their shoulders. Looking in my eyes once again, the beautiful shepherd raised her upper lip, bearing her teeth. Now all they communicated was menace. I threw a hunk of sandwich over their heads as a tribute while I scrambled to my feet. The dogs turned away, jostling over the food and suddenly disinterested in me. Our friendship was over and my moment as god of the wolves had passed. I started back down the hill, my hands shaking. Off the ridge, out of view of Mytikas, the visions of thunder and lightning, rockfall and angry wolves passed from my mind. The hike down was all nice views and a fast descent, passing lines of walkers complaining about the climb. I was at the refuge by , less than an hour after I left the dogs at Skolio. I gathered my things, ordered a coffee and made it back to the cafe in Prionia by noon. On the Pacific Crest Trail I made a firm commitment to always eat restaurant food when it is an option on a hike, so at Prionia I had some fries and a cappuccino. After I drank the first I ordered another. As I was sitting, listening to the accents around me and once again absorbing the strange feeling of being back in an international environment, I noticed the brown mutt from the refuge, miles from home. From Prionia the trail to Litochoro is only 7 miles, mostly downhill. I left the brown mutt and the cafe, and I headed away. This section of trail traces along a river and passes a series of waterfalls, as well as the monastery of St. Dionysios and several shrines. Greece is one of the most actively religious Christian nations in the world and Orthodox infrastructure has long since replaced anything dedicated to the old gods, here at the base of their mountain. I passed a lone monk dressed in a full black robe and a skull cap, with a long white beard, impressive as Zeus. He blessed me in English. The trail is beautiful but it punishes you at the end, and in the final 5 kilometers prior to Litochoro it shifts from a steady, pleasant downhill to a series of steep ups and downs. The sky turned dark and I could see flashes of lightning back towards the mountain. Thirty minutes walk from town, hail started to fall and I had to shelter under a grove of trees. Is there any reason the ancients picked Mt. Of course not, but who cares? The fact is that even if gods do come and go, Olympus is still there. Thanks for reading! For more stuff like this, click below and sign up for a free book of shorts by joining the mailing list. How to run around Mt. 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An hour after our last faculty meeting on June 30 we had the car packed up and were on the road. We two bags of scuba gear, a 12kg kettlebell, various running shoes, rash guards, and a whole galaxy of multi-colored camp equipment, water bladders, beach blankets, and clothing… and also a Greek phrasebook, plenty of sunscreen, and a high-end Giant road bike. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get locked into a serious outdoor gear collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. Weeks before we had learned of a fun Bulgarian tradition known as July Morning. The idea is for people stay up all night eating, drinking, and socializing with friends and family on June 30th, then have a bonfire and welcome the first sunrise of the summer on July 1st. After hearing about concept Alison knew what she wanted to do for her birthday this year June 30th. She had heard from a friend about a winery that hosts a July Morning campout event on their property with food, live music, and space to pitch a tent. So first stop on our summer adventure was the tiny Bulgarian village of Melnik in the south of the country. About halfway there I realized that I had remembered to grab all the various pieces of camping gear except for the god damn tent. Sitting right behind the door at home was the last thing I meant to throw into the car before we took off, and I forgot it. There was no rain in our future; I had checked before we left. I was wrong. So wrong. Not alright. My blood to a mosquito is like that cocaine-laced water they use in those experiments with rats and mice. They would drink me dry if they could. Aside from that, we had a wonderful time watching the sun go down and looking at the stars. We awoke to a wonderful sunrise coming over the nearby hills, a little mobile coffeeshop converted from an old 70s VW, and a lovely little bonfire. We welcomed the first sun of the summer with a nice warm coffee and a crackling fire. The temps around midday the past few weeks had been merciless. You often find the roads a bit more quiet if you happen to be driving around in the early hours of the morning. Most businesses here open around 10am. But before heading out to our hike, we needed to eat and fuel up. Melnik, as I mentioned before, is a small village. Not very many options at am for two hungry sleep-deprived travelers. It had a lot of layers to it. He was friendly enough and our limited Bulgarian and his limited English got us two coffees and two huge helpings of a traditional Bulgarian cheese-filled puff pastry. Loaded up and ready to go, we found a trailhead and started walking. We were amazed at the different formations and geography of the landscape. It was very unique. Along this particular ridge hike there were multiple viewing points that offered stunning vistas. We also came across the remains of various monasteries, some still crumbing away as nature took them back, others only ancient foundations. All of them collected in this one little expansion of mountain top. We also came across a handful of wild tortoises rummaging in the undergrowth at various spots along the trail; a very cool find. Most of the cute, tiny museum was written in Bulgarian but the host walked us around for a moment and answered our questions. In this very rustic little cave dwelling at the basement of one of the main buildings in the village in the middle of nowhere Bulgaria, we had some of the best wine of our lives. The wine was poured straight from huge barrels, adding to the atmosphere of the event. When we liked one enough to buy a bottle, it was poured right from barrel again and corked right there. It was a really nice experience and the host was super lovely. We had our last Bulgarian feast for dinner at this local tavern-y place, off one of the side streets in Melnik. You can only really find local Bulgarian food in places like this throughout the country and driving down here, the conversation came up about our favorite Bulgaria dishes. Alison, being a salad-fiend, loves the shopska salata, a basic mix of cucumber, peppers, and tomatoes topped with serene cheese all locally produced. On this unique wooden menu I saw chicken and vegetable sach, and I knew this would be my go-to. It comes to the table ripping hot, spewing greasy goodness like an active volcano. After hearing from friends that it took up to 6 hours to cross, we were very content with the hour wait. Our first stop in Greece was the small town of Litochoro, located on the base of Olympus Mountains highest peak Mytikas, 2, m. Our aim was to do some hiking in the Olympus Mountains. After some research we decided on a valley hike to the base of the main peak. It was a slightly less traveled trail than others in the area, but offered some solid up and downs while traversing wooden bridges that criss-crossed this valley river all the way to the base of the peak. It was wonderful. Along the trail, we saw signs from the recent Olympus Marathon a trail run up and down the mountain that had occurred two weeks prior to our hike. Our next stop was Meteora and the nearby town of Kalambaka. Meteora is the rock formations home to these gigantic pillars of sandstone with various monasteries built on top of them. None of these photos do any of it justice. We found the best way to take this area in was to simply walk it. We started out one morning with the intention of a small hike and it turned into this really nice day just walking from pillar to pillar and lookout point to lookout point. Absolutely amazing place. Not only that, but we had our first real introduction to Greek food. So many good restaurants with incredible food. We wanted to get out and get some place where Alison could complete some heavy training sessions in preparation for her upcoming Ironman Race in August and I could do my Rescue Diver course towards my Scuba certifications. After some settling in, and the purchase of a new bug-net that was in need of some McGyver-ing before it could be used, we found our routine and groove. One of our favorite things to do is just wander around. Getting lost in new places is a great way to see them. We had some lovely days wandering around some of the smaller villages of Corfu. Lakones, Sokraki, and Lefkimmi were some of our favorites. Snorkeling and swimming was a minute walk away. The waters of Palaiokastritsa and the west side of the island in general were cold, which meant we drove 40 minutes to the east side for a couple long beach days. The water on the east side was bath water, while the west side temperatures were around 65 degrees F. Those cold waters reminded us of Maine summer vacations! Finding one that was sustainably sourced, made my a local artisan, and within our price range has proven to be a challenge over the years. We found what we were looking for in an olive wood shop in the small village of Sokraki. The food alone is a highlight. Gyros platter and sandwiches were a daily staple. On a budget, we also made some baller meals at the Airbnb including tacos, chicken bowls, burgers, and salads with the freshest of ingredients. We learned a great deal about the process of making olive oil, what makes it extra virgin, and even a tasting with the different kinds of oil they make. It was a cool experience and the olive oil was delicious. We walked away with 5 liters to take home! We took a tour of coastal Corfu town on a pirate-themed ship! It was a nice way to see the various historical buildings and elements of the coastline. Plus I got to drink rum on a pirate ship under the Mediterranean sun. So I got that going for me, which is nice. We did one small tour and wine tasting at the small-scale Theotoky Estate; which also included a small olive oil tasting. The cellar where bottle after bottle sit for two years to ferment was impressive. One morning, we visited the Corfu Donkey Rescue. A very friendly teenager led us along the tour around the camp; which currently houses rescued donkeys, dogs, cats, and 1 horse. When hearing the explanation about the horse during the tour, Maria walked right up to us and nuzzled Alison in the butt. She was looking for cuddles! Another very cool experience was our beach day at the beach town of Sadari. The old tale is that couples who swim through the canal together will be married soon… we will have to see about that one! We opted to swim into the canal from the neighboring bay, and the snorkeling was cool. It was a bit touristy, but pretty special. We each had our own personal successes on this trip as well. Alison managed to get in so many miles and miles of swimming, biking, and running in preparation for her upcoming event she did the full swim and bike distances on two separate days. Alison had never read the story the famous movie is based on and we had some great discussions about the film vs. Our next journey? The purpose of the reunion: Ironman for Sam and Alison. Go Alison! Skip to content. Chapter 1: Melnik, Bulgaria. How it started…. Like Loading Spring — Bulgaria Style. August — A gr eat ful end to the Summer. Leave a comment Cancel reply. Comment Subscribe Subscribed. Sign me up. Already have a WordPress. Log in now. Loading Comments Email Name Website.

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