PIATRA CRAIULUI – THE WAY OF THE CROSS

On 21 July 2012, together with Radu, my elder son, and Cătălin, his childhood friend, we set out as a solid team, determined to conquer the mountains. Our target: the Piatra Craiului massif—a legendary mountain, a mythical place. To mountaineers, to those who truly belong to the mountains, the “CRAIUL” is our god. We love it through countless songs. Its peaks, huts, and shelters we invoke with reverence and affection. Its routes we venerate. In the first days, we tackled the spectacular itineraries of “Crăpătura” (The Rift) and “Turnu”.

Above: “Crăpătura”. Below: “Turnu”. Radu in a white T-shirt, Cătălin in blue.

We also climbed Piatra Mică Peak and traversed the northern ridge of the massif as far as Vârful Ascuțit (see: Piatra Craiului – Consecration).

Above: Piatra Mică. Below: on the route towards Vârful Ascuțit.

What follows is the story of our traverse of the northern ridge, from Vârful Ascuțit to “La Om”, as well as of the southern ridge.

Day 5 – Towards the Ridge

We were at Curmătura Hut, at 1,470 metres above sea level, where we had set up our base. When we woke up, I told the boys that we could rest that day if they wished. Cătălin tried politely to let me know he disagreed. Radu was more direct: “Not a chance, Dad. If we agree to rest, in three hours you’ll come up with another brilliant idea like: ‘Let’s go today and carry the rest of the gear up there, near the ridge, where we stashed the water. That way, tomorrow we’ll leave muuuuuch lighter.’ So no. Today we go up to the ridge, and tonight we sleep at the Vârful Ascuțit shelter.” Short, clear, and final. Consequently, that night we slept up there, in the shelter.

Departure was not easy for Radu and Cătălin, whom I subjected to a prolonged “photo session”. Many mountaineers wanted to photograph them—a keepsake with children who were about to traverse the Craiului ridge. Grumpy, Radu more so than Cătălin, they agreed. I stood between them, very happy to share that moment.

They were impatient to reach the ridge, to feel the hard rock beneath their boots, to measure themselves against the mountain’s challenges. And this even before reaching the ridge proper, because they managed to find a route more difficult and rockier than the marked trail—a parallel path, not far from the “official” one, probably best avoided as a precaution. But Radu and Cătălin found it perfectly suited to their thirst for adventure. I gave my conditional consent—in exchange for photos of them.

As we approached the ridge, we also gathered a few branches. Not for a campfire—fires are forbidden on the ridge—but for a small one, to heat water for tea and a warm meal, “like in the old days”. If we were committing to an extraordinary adventure, then we would live it to the full. Radu and Cătălin helped me search for and carry the firewood all the way up.

Day 6 – The Ridge

The night at the Vârful Ascuțit shelter passed very well, comfortably wrapped in our sleeping bags. But at six in the morning, the boys were awake, eager to set off on what Cătălin called “the adventure of our lives”. Naturally, they soon woke everyone else, despite trying to keep quiet—with little success, so great was their excitement at the thought of crossing the legendary Craiului ridge. There were several of us in the shelter, but no one minded being woken earlier than planned. On the contrary, all were experienced mountaineers, charmed by Radu and Cătălin, impressed by their love for the mountains and by their courage and determination to tackle a route known to be difficult. Everyone wanted to photograph them, congratulate them, and encourage them. As a result, although we woke early, we left with some delay.

A little later, a chamois watched us from afar, as if saying, “Have a good journey. Love what you are about to see.”

That day, we planned to traverse the ridge route from Vârful Ascuțit to “La Om” Peak (Piscul Baciului), the highest point of the massif at 2,237 metres. Most often called “La Om”—a reference to the human species as a whole. The time indicated on the signpost: 2.5–3 hours. We, however, believed it would take much longer, burdened as we were with heavy backpacks, equipment, and supplies for several days, and water—lots of water, as there is no source up there. We had no intention of setting records; we wanted to savour the beauty of the place.

And yet, we completed the route in just four hours, including stops for photographs and to admire the scenery. Many and marvellous, even though the difference in altitude between Vârful Ascuțit (2,150 m) and “La Om” (2,237 m) is not great. Between the two, however, lie four other peaks, the lowest at 2,170 metres and the highest at 2,230. On paper it sounds simple; on the ground it felt like a kind of roller coaster—a seemingly endless succession of ascents and descents.

The Craiului ridge is technical, difficult, and in several places dangerous. Seen from afar, it looks almost impossible to traverse. One could spend hours staring at what lies ahead, wondering: “And now, where do I go?”

Up close, however, the impossible becomes possible. In the most difficult sections, we discovered plenty of handholds and footholds. With caution and without haste, these passages can be crossed. We climbed through places that had seemed inaccessible from a distance, descended steeply, using all our limbs and every muscle.

At times, we walked along paths barely half a metre wide, with sheer drops on either side.

At midday, we reached the objective of the day: “La Om” Peak and the nearby shelter. This was followed by the obligatory photo session—what the boys called “the ordeal”. We ate lunch and, sitting on the ground, admired the magnificent views. My thoughts already drifted to the following day: the southern ridge. I had forgotten, however, the boys’ enthusiasm and impatience to continue, to discover the rest of the Craiului ridge, the joy of moving through the mountain, of feeling the rock quiver beneath the soles of their boots.

Around 3 p.m., they decided we had rested enough—and that we should continue along the southern side of the ridge.

The Southern Ridge of Piatra Craiului.

Whose idea was it? Probably Radu’s, strongly supported by Cătălin. I tried to explain that this side of the ridge is less frequented and that we had little information about what awaited us. I also mentioned that we were tired after the morning march and unsure we would reach the next shelter before nightfall. No chance. Adrenaline surged through their veins. They were eager to continue amid those magnificent rocky landscapes.

Cătălin pretended to listen to my arguments while glancing at Radu, as if to say: “He’s your father—you have to convince him.” And Radu was firmer than the rocks around us. He dismissed my concerns, invoking the precautions taken: “Dad, you made us carry equipment for every situation. And so much water. If we’re too tired or it gets dark before we reach the shelter, we’ll sleep under the stars—we have everything we need.” So around 3:30 p.m., we set off. I expected the route to be difficult—and it was.

Along the way, we came across a cross erected where someone had lost their life. Sadly, it is not the only one in this massif. Standing before it, I told the boys: “In the Bucegi Mountains, it’s the ‘sneaker tourists’—those who go into the mountains in city clothes—who die. Here, in Piatra Craiului, experienced hikers die. Those who thought experience could replace proper equipment. Or that they no longer needed to inform themselves about the route, to prepare in advance for a difficult and dangerous journey. It’s one of the lessons the mountain teaches us—and one we should apply in life as well.”

We kept a brief moment of silence and continued along the ridge. Edelweiss smiled at us, delighting us with its wild beauty. The flower is legally protected; picking it is strictly forbidden. We admired them without touching, then moved on. Other mountaineers would pass here later and contemplate them in turn.

But the Miracle—with a capital M—happened a little further on: a chamois appeared before us. A curious adolescent? A mother wanting to know more about the offspring of Man? I do not know. What is certain is that he—or she—wandered around us, observing us from every angle, striking pose after pose, as if inviting admiration and photographs. At one point, it pretended to leave, only to return and look at us more closely. I believe she would even have allowed herself to be stroked, had we tried.

The boys admired her for a long time, enchanted by her haute-couture-worthy catwalk performance. When the animal finally departed, they sighed sadly. But the chamois left us with a glance that seemed to say: “I hope you enjoyed my show.”

The encounters with the edelweiss—and above all with the chamois model—gave us wings. Soon we reached a long, narrow, exposed section of ridge, bordered by abysses on both sides, strictly forbidden to those who suffer from vertigo. For Radu and Cătălin, however, this passage was pure joy; they crossed it almost skipping with happiness. I even suspected they might want to go back and forth, but they restrained themselves, unsure of what still lay ahead—a prudence that others had lacked, and for which they had paid dearly.

Around 8 p.m., vegetation and shrubs began to replace rock. It was the sign that the ridge route had ended, that we had reached the final point of our incredible adventure. Soon we began a gentle descent and, a few minutes later, arrived at the shelter in Șaua Funduri. We spent the night there, sleeping deeply after a wonderful day rich in magnificent landscapes and magical encounters.

One last look back at the ridge we had traversed.

The Last Day

For the first time since arriving in the Crai, we woke late. From here we headed straight to Curmătura Hut, following a trail at the foot of the mountain, through the forest. At another time, such a walk would have bored us to death; today, it was exactly what we needed. In the distance, we could see the Craiului ridge and tell ourselves, “Yesterday, we were up there.” With pride and nostalgia.

At Curmătura, the hut keeper and the few mountaineers present welcomed us like heroes. They listened attentively to our story and studied our photos. In turn, they took many pictures of us. The hut keeper asked permission to display one of our photos on the wall, so he could tell future guests the story of the youngest mountaineers ever to traverse the Craiului ridge. “And also the most enthusiastic,” Cătălin added. “To that,” the hut keeper replied, “you are now part of the Craiului legends.”

Epilogue

Life went on. In December 2013, Radu’s and Cătălin’s paths diverged when we left Romania for good and moved to France. But the expedition in the Crai marked them for life. Today, in January 2025, thirteen years later, Radu and Cătălin are two wonderful adults, happy in their relationships and successful in their professional careers. The mountain has become MOUNTAIN—an integral part of their lives, a boundless love to which they are devoted. Whenever they can, they return to the mountains on new hikes.

RADU

Above left: the Vanoise Massif (Alps), Point de l’Observatoire, 3,016 metres. Above right: the Pyrenees, France.