Andy's EPIC Hikes in Europe Mount Maglic Sutjeska National Park Bosnia & Herzegovina
Mount Maglic Sutjeska National Park Bosnia & Herzegovina
2,388 m
10 km (2 ½ hours ascent, 2 hours descent)
Altitude gain: 832 m
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Trnovacko Lake
Why do you want to go there? Nothing but wolves and mountain people’. The comment by a colleague of my travel mate Carlos could not have been more dismissive. Even our Air BnB host in Mostar put on a quizzical expression when we told her of our plan to scale the highest mountain in Bosnia & Herzegovina. ‘Never been there, but enjoy your trip’, she added unable to hide her incomprehension. Come on people! What’s not to like? An isolated wilderness in the middle of the country’s oldest national park, one of Europe’s last primeval forests, the prospect of solitude, vibrant autumn colours, mountain top views ….
But first we had to get there. From Mostar, the route planner calculated a 2 hour drive of 120 km to Tjentište, a small hamlet at the foot of the mountain. Several blogs warned about a bumpy 15 km dirt track to reach the start of the trail. The hike itself consists of a nearly vertical climb supported by steel cables, and a gentle descent criss-crossing the border with Montenegro past mountain lakes, forests, and meadows. Or should we be pressed for time, it would be back along the cable route to make it to the car before sunset, hoping that our rather dormant abseiling skills were sufficient. This was going to be a tightly packed day.
at the top of Mount Maglic
By 7.00 am, we were on route M6.1, leading east out of Mostar and drove through dense fog and mist across the rather tall Dinaric Mountains, passing desolate villages, isolated homesteads, and the odd abandoned farmhouse. We had entered the 19th century. Some herds of cows were unexpected road users with the humans accompanying them having rather grumpy facial expressions. Maybe Carlos’s colleague was right after all.
A number of road signs in Bosnia & Herzegovina are bi-lingual: a Latin spelling for Bosniaks and Croats, and a Cyrillic version for Bosnian Serbs. In Herzegovina where we had started our trip from, Cyrillic names had often been crossed out. Now it was the reverse; a clear sign that we had entered the Republika Srpska. The first settlement of note was Gacko, lying on a high karst plateau with the most enormous coal power station whose exhaust fumes mixed dramatically with the still persistent fog. Very spooky. The nearby mine apparently has one of the largest coal reserves in Europe and a whopping 800,000 tonnes of the black stuff is taken out of the ground annually. And we thought we were heading for a mountain idyll.
A number of road signs in Bosnia & Herzegovina are bi-lingual: a Latin spelling for Bosniaks and Croats, and a Cyrillic version for Bosnian Serbs. In Herzegovina where we had started our trip from, Cyrillic names had often been crossed out. Now it was the reverse; a clear sign that we had entered the Republika Srpska. The first settlement of note was Gacko, lying on a high karst plateau with the most enormous coal power station whose exhaust fumes mixed dramatically with the still persistent fog. Very spooky. The nearby mine apparently has one of the largest coal reserves in Europe and a whopping 800,000 tonnes of the black stuff is taken out of the ground annually. And we thought we were heading for a mountain idyll.
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Some brief facts about
Bosnia & Herzegovina The country was one of six constituent republics of the former Yugoslavia. Back then, Bosnia & Herzegovina (BiH) had an ethnic mix of roughly 50% Bosniaks (who follow the Muslim faith), 30% Serbs (Eastern Orthodox) and 20% Croats (Roman Catholics) often living side by side in what was heralded as a shining example of multi-culturalism. With the demise of communism, Slovenia and Croatia declared their independence in 1991. BiH followed a year later, prompting an almost immediate civil war that was orchestrated by the leader of the Bosnian Serbs Radovan Karadžić and his army general Ratko Mladić, with the latter pursuing a brutal policy of ethnic cleansing. In 1995, after 100,000 deaths and around 2 million displaced people, the international community belatedly stepped in. BiH is now organised into three entities: The Republika Srpska (the Bosnian name being used in order to mark it off from the separate state of Serbia), a Federation consisting of Croats and Bosniaks (which in itself is split into 10 cantons along ethnic lines), and the Brčko District in the north-east of the country, serving as a geographical wedge to prevent a continuous land mass of Bosnian-Serb territory. Persistent ethnic divisions have harmed any meaningful economic recovery and political tensions are ubiquitous, with many claiming that 30 years after the end of the fighting, BiH can now be regarded as a failed state.
How to get there: You need your own transport. Simple as that. From Dubrovnik Airport it is about 150 km (2½ hours). From Mostar, the approach is slightly quicker (2 hours, 120 km), and from the country’s capital Sarajevo it is also 2 hours (100 km). BiH is a long time away from EU membership, but Brussels funds are starting to make a small difference. As such, roads have improved greatly over the years, although any form of motorway network has yet to materialise. Rental agencies (we went with Gold star) will slap on a surcharge when taking their car from for instance Croatia into BiH. In our case it amounted to 12.50€ per day.
Paths up the mountain: There is no avoiding the dirt track leading to the foot of the trail. You can hike the 15 km from Tjentište (which should take you about 4 hours), or cross your fingers, drive (VERY) slowly and wipe the sweat off your brows for about an hour or so. There are two tracks leading to the mountain top. After 14 km on the dirt track, you will reach a clearly signposted junction. Continuing left up the road will lead you to the foot of the trail that provides the shortest route. The path climbs gently for about 4 km followed by a very steep climb of 1 km, which in places is aided by cables drilled into the rock. It took us just a little under 2½ hours up and 2 hours down. Or you turn right at the junction and towards the campground at Prijevor, with a trail that is longer, but also much gentler: 8 km up to the top at around 4 hours.
When to go: Sutjeska is not on many tourism radars yet, and even in the height of summer, crowds are sparse. The time of year and weather conditions will greatly determine which route is most suitable. Do not attempt the steep path when it is wet, as the rock can get dangerously slippery. Likewise, holding on to metal cables in freezing temperatures (and you’re quite high up, so it can get nippy) might also not be advisable. And if you’re scaling the heights in Spring or Autumn make sure you will be back at the trail head at least one hour before sunset. Doing that dirt-track drive in darkness could easily turn into Mission Impossible.
Where to stay: In case you would like to avoid our rather tight schedule coming in from Mostar, Airbnb lists several cabins in Tjentište. Booking.com also has some entries, but if you are self-catering, make sure to bring supplies. You will search in vain for supermarkets or restaurants. A further option is the small town of Foca, 30 km up the valley. Don’t expect a metropolis, but at least the place is geared up for tourists. Again, Booking.com and Airbnb give you decent options. Alternatively, you can go camping. There’s a ground right next to the road leading through Tjentište, or you can make your way up the oil-spill track and head for the secluded site at Prijevor halfway up the mountain.
How to get there: You need your own transport. Simple as that. From Dubrovnik Airport it is about 150 km (2½ hours). From Mostar, the approach is slightly quicker (2 hours, 120 km), and from the country’s capital Sarajevo it is also 2 hours (100 km). BiH is a long time away from EU membership, but Brussels funds are starting to make a small difference. As such, roads have improved greatly over the years, although any form of motorway network has yet to materialise. Rental agencies (we went with Gold star) will slap on a surcharge when taking their car from for instance Croatia into BiH. In our case it amounted to 12.50€ per day.
Paths up the mountain: There is no avoiding the dirt track leading to the foot of the trail. You can hike the 15 km from Tjentište (which should take you about 4 hours), or cross your fingers, drive (VERY) slowly and wipe the sweat off your brows for about an hour or so. There are two tracks leading to the mountain top. After 14 km on the dirt track, you will reach a clearly signposted junction. Continuing left up the road will lead you to the foot of the trail that provides the shortest route. The path climbs gently for about 4 km followed by a very steep climb of 1 km, which in places is aided by cables drilled into the rock. It took us just a little under 2½ hours up and 2 hours down. Or you turn right at the junction and towards the campground at Prijevor, with a trail that is longer, but also much gentler: 8 km up to the top at around 4 hours.
When to go: Sutjeska is not on many tourism radars yet, and even in the height of summer, crowds are sparse. The time of year and weather conditions will greatly determine which route is most suitable. Do not attempt the steep path when it is wet, as the rock can get dangerously slippery. Likewise, holding on to metal cables in freezing temperatures (and you’re quite high up, so it can get nippy) might also not be advisable. And if you’re scaling the heights in Spring or Autumn make sure you will be back at the trail head at least one hour before sunset. Doing that dirt-track drive in darkness could easily turn into Mission Impossible.
Where to stay: In case you would like to avoid our rather tight schedule coming in from Mostar, Airbnb lists several cabins in Tjentište. Booking.com also has some entries, but if you are self-catering, make sure to bring supplies. You will search in vain for supermarkets or restaurants. A further option is the small town of Foca, 30 km up the valley. Don’t expect a metropolis, but at least the place is geared up for tourists. Again, Booking.com and Airbnb give you decent options. Alternatively, you can go camping. There’s a ground right next to the road leading through Tjentište, or you can make your way up the oil-spill track and head for the secluded site at Prijevor halfway up the mountain.
But soon we turned north on to Route M20, the main road linking Sarajevo with Dubrovnik on the Croatian Adriatic coast. Another 30 minutes and we entered Sutjeska National Park, where we stopped at a road sign in a parking bay, hoping for detailed information on how best to scale Maglić. A friendly mountain ranger appeared from out of the woods and in passable English informed us that we could just park here and hike up for 5 hours. But we would not make it back in time before nightfall, so it might be better to spend the night in Tjentište and start the ascent first thing in the morning. That was not what we wanted to hear.
Ignoring his well-intended advice, we drove into the village - if that’s the right term: an assortment of abandoned lodgings, some run-down looking cabins, a shop, a campground, all topped by the gigantic stone monument to the battle of Sutjeska, where in 1943, Tito’s partisans defeated the Wehrmacht. So monstrously ugly, it looked almost cool. In the centre of this odd collection of dwellings, a side road led across a bridge over the river Sutjeska. Asphalt very soon gave way to gravel and then dirt, punctuated by rocks and boulders. We must be on the infamous approach track. And yes, there was that line of oil right in the middle of the track, which a blogger had commented on, and presumably where a driver must have underestimated the car’s clearance. We checked the insurance policy of our rental, breathed a sigh of relief and pressed on – at a modest speed of 15 km/h. The toll hut of the park ranger station soon came into view: 5 Euro per person and we signed the visitor book into which only one other party had registered for that day.
Ignoring his well-intended advice, we drove into the village - if that’s the right term: an assortment of abandoned lodgings, some run-down looking cabins, a shop, a campground, all topped by the gigantic stone monument to the battle of Sutjeska, where in 1943, Tito’s partisans defeated the Wehrmacht. So monstrously ugly, it looked almost cool. In the centre of this odd collection of dwellings, a side road led across a bridge over the river Sutjeska. Asphalt very soon gave way to gravel and then dirt, punctuated by rocks and boulders. We must be on the infamous approach track. And yes, there was that line of oil right in the middle of the track, which a blogger had commented on, and presumably where a driver must have underestimated the car’s clearance. We checked the insurance policy of our rental, breathed a sigh of relief and pressed on – at a modest speed of 15 km/h. The toll hut of the park ranger station soon came into view: 5 Euro per person and we signed the visitor book into which only one other party had registered for that day.
... hitting the cables ...
We spent about an hour following that oil spill. After 14 km, we approached the only junction: turn right towards the ranger station at Prijevor for the campground and the starting point for the gentle ascent up Maglić, past stunning Lake Trnovačko. But the cables were calling us, and we turned left for another 1 km until finally, a clearing in the forest appeared which allowed us to park our car. At last, we were at the foot of the trail.
The first 4 km were straightforward: a gentle climb through dense Alpine forests. We encountered total silence. No cars, no farm equipment, no airplanes, not even dogs barking in the distance. The only occasional sound we encountered was a hovering drone, presumably operated by the Bosnian or Montenegrin border forces checking on our whereabouts. The trail ended up at a vertical cliff face. How on earth are we meant to scale that? By using the cables of course, which were strategically positioned throughout the final 1 km climb up to the top. We were fortunate that the weather had been dry for several days. Doing this exhausting climb in treacherous conditions would have probably been beyond our capabilities- technically and physically. Still, every now and then we were gasping for air.
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Maglic Cliff Face
At the top, we were rewarded with the most stunning 360 degree views. The drone appeared once more, but otherwise no one around, apart from a group of Swiss hikers (that must have been the other registered party) catching some rays in glorious autumn sunshine.
The climb had taken 2 ½ hours. It had just turned 1.00 and there was another five hours of daylight. Lake Trnovačko was shimmering below us and we could just about map out the descent through the adjacent valley, towards the campground at Prijevor and back up to our car. If we’re on Olympic form, we could probably make it in just under 4 hours, but with barely enough time to tackle the oil-spill track. The Swiss team helped us made up our minds, since they cheerfully descended down the cables. We did the same. Muscle memory of abseiling techniques just about set in, to the extent that we rather enjoyed it, and after two hours we were back at the car. And the same journey back: down the dirt track (one hour), from Tjentište via Gacko over the sunset-lit Dinaric Mountains and into Mostar (another two hours). The whole day excursion had taken just under 13 hours, and I thanked my lucky stars that I really do not mind driving.
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