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“If I woke up tomorrow with my head sewn to the carpet, I wouldn’t be more surprised than I am right now.” Clark Griswold
Today, you get a two for one special. Buckle up, put on your reading glasses, and settle in because it’s a wild ride…wilder than I could have imagined – or wanted.
Hike #1
I’ve come to the conclusion that I am not made for “rustic experiences.” I need a shower at the end of the day, a decent meal, and a bed…that’s not on the ground.
This is why I don’t long-distance hike in the US. It requires pitching a tent, eating what I can only describe as astronaut food, and pooping outdoors for days, or weeks at a time.
Thanks, but no thanks.
Put me on a trail in Europe where there’s a little village at the end of the day with a shower, a restaurant, and an actual mattress, and I’m your girl. Tell me I have to sleep on the ground and cook dinner over a fire, and suddenly I’m no longer interested in discovering myself.
Honestly, I’m convinced that if I had been a settler on the Oregon Trail, I would have died first – or at least been in the top two. And it wouldn’t have been from cholera, dysentery, or getting crushed by a wagon wheel.
It would have been from sheer lack of will to live.
Lewis and Clark, the people who worked on the Panama Canal, and anyone else who voluntarily signed up for that level of suffering: I commend you. I could never do it.
Teddy Roosevelt, however, is one of my top two presidents, along with Lincoln. The man broke up monopolies, helped establish our national parks, was incapable of saying no to an outdoor adventure, and once gave a campaign speech after being shot – and still finished the speech!
I aspire to have that kind of toughness.
But sadly, I will never be as cool as Teddy Roosevelt riding a moose across a river…even if it was a prop.

The beginning of today’s hike (#1 of 2) was extremely difficult. It was a climb that went straight up to the heavens, or hell depending on your perspective.
I’m from Kansas, one of those flat as a crêpe fly-over states in the middle. I don’t do mountaineering or even take the stairs.
When we got to the base of the “huge hill of the day,” I told Massimo if there’s a vehicle going in the same direction with available seating, I’m hitchhiking to the top. I’m happy to be a lazy hiker.
That’s the exact moment Massimo looked to his left and saw this sign.
It says something like “Forest road, no cars allowed”…or walk your ass to the top and stop complaining. It’s really a personal choice of interpretation at this point.

Clearly, I’m really terrible at this manifesting stuff. Quietly, I said to myself, I’d be happy to ride a tractor, a horse, or hell at this point I’d saddle up on a cow. Giddy up!
No such luck.
As we climbed, I scolded Massimo for getting too far ahead of me “There are bears!”, but more importantly, I figured at some point I would need him to scoop up Walter and me and throw us over his shoulder and fly us to the top like Superman. I didn’t want him to have to backtrack.
I believed in him and know he could do it.
At one point while I was huffing and puffing, I asked him are you seriously enjoying this?
“Oh yes, very much,” he replied with a big grin.
Right then and there, I want to throat punch him. Or better yet use my hiking stick to take out one of his knees like Tonya Harding did to Nancy Kerrigan. Whack whack.
When I told Massimo this, he just laughed and said “You are a terrrrrible hiker,” rolling his r’s in his Italian accent.
He’s right, I really am.
My one redeeming quality is that I provide some levity along the way and write my little stories in a blog that my fellow hikers can print and reread to remind them of why they should never go hiking with me again.
Oh no, my friends, I am well aware that my contributions are minimal if not nonexistent.
I like to call my skillset “the intangibles.”Like the crowd at a sporting event. They’re not players or coaches in the game, but they definitely can change the momentum of the outcome. That’s me. I am an intangible – I add the spicy flavor to what would be an otherwise boring, tasteless meal – or hike.
As we climbed and climbed (boring) I decided if I was going to be miserable on this hike, I was at least going to listen to some fun music. Twofold it lets the bears know that I’m coming.
This is one of the few things that Massimo and I fight about.
If it were up to him, we’d walk in complete silence or listen to Mozart and belt out Opera tunes from The Marriage of Figaro.
If I were going to pull this off, I had to establish my dominance early. Showing Massimo that I was going to be the DJ of this outdoor music festival.
I kicked it off with Springsteen’s Born in the USA. Okay, maybe that was over the top but it got his attention and clearly annoyed him.
Missile fired.
Target hit.
I followed it up with Madonna’s Vogue. Singing loudly as I gasped for air while walking behind him…
“Greta Garbo and Monroe
Dietrich and DiMaggio
Marlon Brando, Jimmy Dean
On the cover of a magazine”
I think he hated every minute.
Victory.
It’s not fair for only one of us to be miserable on this hay wagon ride to hell.
Magician #1 & #2
For my next circus act, the roles of Magician #1 & #2 will be performed by my left and right big toes – Houdini and Copperfield.
Once we ascended the climb, the hike was fairly easy and even a little enjoyable.
We were within eyesight of a little covered picnic table, the perfect spot to take a rest when I looked down and there it was…another f*%$ing blister.
For the last two days, the burning sensation when I pee has disappeared (the choirs in Heaven rejoice) and in those two day, my two big toes have decided to get two blisters on areas of the skin that nothing, absolutely nothing is touching…or rubbing. What a magic trick, eh?
Come on…are you kidding me?
I could understand if I had just started walking or changed shoes, but I’ve been walking in these sandals more than twenty days. 20 DAYS!
Whoever has my voodoo doll, do me a favor and stretch out my legs. My hamstrings are tight.
At least now I have a matching set.

We stayed in what the guidebook describes as a “rustic experience.”
Meaning no electricity, no running water, no mirrors, and no indoor toilet. One of my worst nightmares come true.
I’ll let you see for yourselves.
Actually, the room wasn’t so bad but the toilet and lack of running water left much to be desired.
We brushed our teeth in the yard and I even had to put on my mascara – my one luxury to feel human – with my handheld mirror while standing on the “porch.”

Our hostess was lovely though. We never learned her name but we had many confused laughs together.
She loved to slap my legs and kiss Massimo in the head. She’s a feisty old bird.

At first we were confused by the setup. It turned out that the meals were served at the woman’s home, and our beds were located in another building over a hill and across a field.
After dinner she sent me “home” with a 4% beer. I felt like I was back in high school at a farm party – underage drinking in the fields surrounded by the smell of cow dung.
Her kitchen was a tiny room with a fire pit – she cooked over an open flame in the house with no ventilation!
The dining room was outside.

Baths were taken by standing in that little green basin shown in the video and pouring a bucket of water over your head, soaping yourself, and rinsing with another bucket.
Not for me.
I chose to bathe all my important parts with baby wipes and only wash my feet and legs in the green tub.
Massimo went full Monty and followed the woman’s instructions to a T.
He was born to be wild and she was so proud of him.
After our “baths,” Massimo performed surgery on Copperfield in what I can only describe as the most unsanitary operating room on the planet. I’ve never actually been in an operating room before but I’m fairly certain the health department would close down our facility. The rugs alone have dust from the 1800s.
Hike #2
Today was a much easier hike – 15 km – several kilometers were down hill and then flat for a very long time. And we walked through two towns (haven’t seen those in a while) which means snacks!
Nothing much exciting happened on the trail so I’m going to wrap up this post with the final disaster of the day.
Another first for me. A big one.
When we arrived at our accommodation for the night, I was so excited to take a shower – especially since yesterday’s “shower” consisted of wet wipes and dirty water.
I put my travel-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner on the shelf in the shower next to the glass bottle of soap provided the owner and turned on the water.
Ahhh. Civilization.
I lathered my hair with a generous handful of shampoo and then reached for the glass soap bottle.
And then…
It slipped.
I watched in slow motion as the bottle fell from my hand and exploded into what appeared to be a gazillion tiny shards of glass across the tile of the shower floor.
I screamed a long, slow, very adult-version-of “fuuuuuuudge” as the realization sank in.
With shampoo running into my eyes, I rinsed my face and then froze.
Completely. Utterly. Froze.
Because there is one thing you absolutely do not want on a long-distance hiking trip:
A cut on the bottom of your foot.
That’s not a minor inconvenience. A cut on the bottom of a hiker’s foot equals game over.
You’re done.
Time to go home.
And there I stood, surrounded by glass, trying to figure out my next move.
The situation was worse than I initially realized. There were shards all over the shower floor, and I could even see tiny pieces sparkling on the bathroom floor outside the shower.
Fantastic.
I waited, hoping for Massimo to return soon from doing the laundry (what a saint) and to get my flip flops out of my bag so I would have something to stand on without cutting my feet.
I heard him open the door to the room and I politely asked him through the bathroom door to set my flip flops on the toilet. He was confused, so I explained that I had a bit of an accident and it was kinda, sorta an emergency and to hurry.
He passed me the shoes and got a broom and a dust pan from the owner.
Wild turn of events. Absolutely wild.
I’m telling you, I don’t know what’s happening in my Universe but I’ve never had to sweep up glass while standing naked in a shower.
And honestly, I’m starting to think the Via Transilvanica is less of a hiking trail and more of an elaborate test of how much nonsense two people can endure before they finally lose their minds….because I’m close to ending up in the psych ward.
Also…
Who the hell puts a glass bottle in a shower?!
Much love & gratitude. Namaste 🙏
If you enjoyed this post, I’d be grateful if you’d like and share it.
Massimo has become very comfortable with having his photo taken on this trip. Maybe too comfortable.

At the rest stop just after I discovered the blister, we met a fun Romanian family who told us all about the area and showed us videos of bears on their phones.

We met a very funny woman with a donkey – I think she told us her life story but it was in Romanian – who let us pet him and take selfies. He was a little camera shy so she showed us how to hold him so he would pose for his big debut in the blog.
I think he hated every minute.

On hike #2 we walked to what Google Maps said was a pizzeria. On the walk we discussed what kind of pizza we would order and how great it would be to eat something other than pork and potatoes. Our mouths were watering as we walked nearly a kilometer off the trail to this little slice of heaven.
When we arrived, we didn’t see a pizzeria. Liars. There was no such thing – it was some guy’s house – well maybe it was a pizzeria at one time but not anymore.
The owner of the home came outside to see what we were doing and when I showed him the photo of the Google Maps pizzeria, he put his hands over his face and said, “No, no, no.” Then he held his hands up and motioned for us to wait. Then he came back with two sweet breads in the shape of pretzels and two soft, delicious, chocolate croissants.
The food Gods have heard our cries and felt our hunger pangs. 🥐
Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, and sometimes you score your favorite pastry – which I think is even better than a pizza.






This is a mobile beehive truck (it’s from another section of the trail but someone asked me about it so I wanted to include it and explain).
The beekeeper will park it in a field, let the bee’s do their thing and then drive it to another field and do it all over again.


