A Visit to Ukraine’s Carpathian Mountains


This trip report is part 3 of a 5 part series of my time in Ukraine. Stories previously posted include my U.S. State Department sponsored service trip and travels through the Ukrainian countryside Please use the search function to find out more about these other trips.

In May of 2012, I had the fortune of being selected as a member of a U.S. delegation to help teach Ukrainian government officials about U.S. style local government. Our delegation consisted of me, from Illinois, Dave and Paul from Washington State, and Marcia from Washington DC. We all worked in varying capacities for local or regional governments or not-for-profit organizations. We were accompanied by Slava and Natalie, two Ukrainians who had earlier visited the U.S. as part of a U.S. Department of State reciprocal program.

Our service trip wasn’t all business and no pleasure. We had a lot of time “off of the clock” while in the big cities or while in transit between them. MK joined us midway through our time in this fabulous country. The cultural exchange and learning experience to us as delegates was, I’m certain, just as valuable as the governance experience the Ukrainians were learning from us.

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It was well past dark after we arrived at our hotel in the Carpathian mountain village of Pylypets, so we couldn't see much of the promised views. That would have to wait until the morning. This area is often visited by our hosts and guides, Vasil and Natalie, who like to bike and ski in the area. We jovially consumed some wine, cheese, and other snacks before being shown our rooms in a large multiple unit cottage in the back of the property. MK and I got our own room with our own bathroom. This was a treat considering most of our previous nights were spent in multi-share facilities.

It was late morning before we finally got underway on our day hike up to the mountain ridge above us. The first portion of the climb was via cable car. The price was very reasonable at only 30 hyrvnia, or about $3.75. I’ve never downhill skied so this was the first time I was on such a contraption. Gondolas? Yes. Open air seat type of cable cars? No. This was the first time.

Summer use of cable cars gives high mountain access
for hikers, backpackers, and mountain bikers

At the end of the ride, Paul realized he had lost his wallet. He thought it may have fallen out of his pocket while he was taking out his sunglasses. He told the rest of us to go ahead without him. He instead was going to walk back down along a straight line underneath the cable car line in the hope of finding it.

MK and I felt good making the climb up the trail toward the ridge top. Vasil quickly found out that the two of us were in fairly good shape, and said as much, while he walked with us to lead the way. He is a very active adventurer. He routinely takes extended bike rides of over 100 miles a day. In fact, the day before we arrived, he had just finished a multi day trip on his bike, pedaling from Kharkiv to Lviv, a distance equivalent to a trip across the state of Texas. He also likes to skydive having made over 200 jumps so far.

Vasil started to sing as we climbed and looked back to measure the progress of the others. Natalie was lagging behind to match Marcia's slower pace. Dave was having stomach problems and brought up the rear. He said later that he became very close and familiar with the huckleberry plants that carpeted the hillsides.

Vasil (r) is a strong hiker and athlete


The views at the top were impressive. We laid down in the grass to soak up the sun and the views. In time, the others caught up and joined us as we continued our repose. Two men approached and started a conversation. They became more animated when Vasil pointed out that the rest of us were from America. I’m sure it is not everyday that a Ukrainian hiking in these mountains comes across a bunch of Americans doing the same thing.

Parasailers take advantage of the mountain thermals

MK loves the mountains, especially above tree line

Older Ukrainians take advantage of the mountain views

A conversation ensues after learning us Americans
were in their mountains

The clouds started to build. We gathered up our belongings and made the trek back downhill. Rain was falling in the far off valley, blanketing the distant hillsides, and seemed to be heading our way.

Paul was patiently waiting for us at the trailhead. He said that one of the mountain bikers that had been using the trails in the area saw his wallet near one of the cable car support towers. He offered to go back up and look, but by the time he got back there, the wallet was gone. He apologized to Paul for his countrymen's behavior. Stolen were about $400 and a debit card. He was able to reach the US using Natalie's phone and got a hold of the card company to cancel the account.

“Remember when we were in downtown Lviv the other day?” I quizzed MK.

“Hmm. Yes. What about it?”

“What did that Gypsy lady tell Paul after Paul he took her picture and he refused her demands to pay her?”

“Oh, yeah! She said that she hoped he would someday have less money than her,” MK recalled.

“Sounds like the curse worked,” I said.

“Spooky, I tell you!”

After a late and filling lunch along with a brief rest back at the hotel, MK and I, along with Marcia and Paul, walked down into the village to check out the local flavor: Colorful people, stooped over babushkas walking along the village lane, horses and cows moving and grazing on the grass from one modest home’s front yard to another, their tenders nearby with sticks and whips, people bent over in their fields tending to their crops, little kids playing and doing all of the things little kids do. We stopped at a little tavern to have a beer and did more people watching until dark.

She wasn't too thrilled that I took her picture.
I apologized for doing so without her permission

Paul (l) knew some of the language to start a conversation

Marcia (l) and I enjoy a conversation in the village park

Before turning in, we watched some of Vasil's skydiving videos. Some went back to the hotel restaurant to eat a late dinner which MK and I had no interest in doing being full from the earlier meal. We later learned there was a lot of vodka being passed around at their table.

We packed up our belongings early in the morning and left this wonderful little hotel in its wonderful small village. We were heading to a different part of the mountains when we blew a tire. Our driver, Yurga, would wave down passing cars, asking if they had a tire iron since the one he had wasn't functioning properly.

A flat tire excites the local villagers

Pretty soon, the whole road side was filled with cars and people from the nearby village who were giving us advice and assistance on how to change this tire. It was if they had all called each other to say, "Hey, there's a bunch of Americans with a flat tire, let's go take a look!"

One man, obviously drunk, tried to offer the most help. His beer belly, hardly constrained by his tight knit shirt, would get in the way as he tried to bend over to help Yurga. He would frequently curse between his yellowed teeth that tightly clenched one cigarette after another.

Natalie (l) and Paul (m) look on as a local resident
instructs us on how to change a tire

With the spare tire in place, we drove up and over the pass and to a pretty mountain lake that is very popular with the Ukrainians. The legend has it that there was a young couple who were very much in love. He had to go off to war and the tears she cried day after day while he was gone are what created this lake. We hiked around it's perimeter before loading up in the van for the long drive back to Lviv.

Our apartment was on the third floor of a very old building right in the middle of Lviv's old city center. Our apartment had three bedrooms and one sleeping area in the living room. Poor Paul, he got the living room area, but he didn't seem to mind at all. The rest of us got our own bedrooms. The five of us would be sharing the one bathroom with its small shower, tub, and toilet. This would be our home for the next three nights



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