Busik Po Bezdrożach - part II

Part one - click

Most of our forest path was driven by machines transporting wood from the forest after logging, so the idea of stuffing the bus onto the asphalt turned out to be not entirely as simple as we thought at first. The planned plan was to push the bus, and at the same time position it so that we could efficiently push it and land on the asphalt, and then using the sloping terrain to turn and roll down ... As the lack of assistance and AT / R tires required the use of a significant I got behind the wheel, and Daniel and Łukasz tried to push me out. The first thrust was effective, we drove about a meter, then we got into the rut and got stuck again, the wet clay effectively prevented proper constipation. We dug up the mogul, as the bus was initially directed in the right direction, I changed places with Dominika and we tried to push the three of us, but it did not help. In the meantime, when the guys were still having fun with digging up the mogul, I took care of our safety ... I put up a warning triangle on the side of the road, and I equipped the rest with reflective vests. Asia was supposed to spin around the triangle, so that the oncoming drivers slowed down a bit, the more that we were hardly visible from behind the bushes, and the Romanian drivers did not have a light leg. We managed to push the bus again and stop a meter in front of the ditch so as to have a chance to drive through it with momentum. To make it easier to realize, we laid the ditch with pieces of wood collected after cutting and stones, and in addition, we put a board on the top, which I threw into the car just before leaving the house in case we buried somewhere and you would have to put something up ... it's a pity that I had only one. It was time for the final push, but Tripciak refused to move. In the meantime, the truck passed us at high speed, not doing anything about the triangle and Asia standing by the road, and the Italian driving behind the truck ran over us with his Alpha, a warning triangle set on the side of the road, making a scandal behind the lowered window for our triangle. What a guy. Well, at least a nice older couple saw the whole thing and stopped and tried to help us get out of trouble. This time, the four of them managed to move the bus from its place, but when the wheel hit the board, it moved and we landed again in the ditch. Extra. Now the bus was impossible to move without the rope. However, I did not like the way we were supposed to get the Tripciak out. Pulling it straight was out of the question, as there would be some driver of a Romanian bomber who, despite trying to temporarily stop the traffic, tried to cut the stretched rope between the cars. Seeing our struggles, a small truck also stopped and a young team of boys jumped out. Our newly met grandpa, who helped us, explained what was going on in Romanian, so the guys did not wait and immediately started to act. They hooked up a steel rope and at an angle of 90 degrees on a full firecracker they dragged the Tripciak across the ditch, asking them to do it slowly. Pain for my eyes, but we managed to find ourselves on the asphalt, the fact that they pulled us in the wrong direction, despite explaining how to do it. A quick handshake and everyone went their own way and we stayed on the road. As it was downhill, I rolled a bit backwards to the bend, slightly turning, and Daniel and Łukasz waiting for the right moment, when no one was coming from any side, pushed me forward and I was positioned in the direction of travel. The only thing left to do was to roll down a few hundred meters and think what to do next ?! First, Daniel disassembled the bowl to see the damage level. The hole was huge, impossible to patch, plus there were two cracks from hitting the bowl. At the beginning there was an idea to find a piece of steel or a sheet of metal and stick it on silicone from the inside of the bowl, but this solution would probably only work for a moment, and we would lose the oil supply, which we had only 2.5l.

In the meantime, an employee of a nearby house (in fact it was a restaurant) came to us, informing us that it was private property and the boss would order us to pay for the stop. At least we understood that much. Bringing the figure of our janitor closer ... Hmmmm, he resembled a bell ringer from Notre Dame, except that he had 1.5cm thick mustard lenses on his nose, including one eyepiece with a punched hole in the center. Our attempts to explain that we have a breakdown, little money were for nothing, we showed him the bowl explaining the engine / engine / brumbrum kaput. He decided to call for reinforcements in the form of the boss's son, who was supposed to speak English ... The English of a teenage boy ended with saying "Hello" and that was what he said. We agreed that, for a fee, we could stay until morning. All in all, the place was quite okay, there was a stream nearby, where you could wash, there was a fireplace next to it, and before everything it was evenly enough to pitch the tents. The price was not excessive, we thought the guest wanted to stretch us anyway, but while walking around the area, we noticed a sign on the tree with information about the need to pay for a stop. Using the presence of our guests by signing and simulating the sound of a welding machine, we tried to find out if it was possible to weld our bowl somewhere, the problem was that it was made of aluminum, which effectively made it difficult. Our almost blind caretaker decided to take us to a gypsy village a few hundred meters below, claiming that there was a person with a welder. O mother, I think to myself, we have a serious breakdown, and Gypsies live nearby, and how will they become interested in us and then come to "borrow" our things ?! Skeptical that we will find someone with TIG there, we went with Daniel and the caretaker to search for help. Entering the square, we were scanned from head to toe by the inhabitants. Our caretaker explained to the chief what was going on, he took the bowl in his hand and immediately stated that the duralumin did not burn. I thought so. However, he told us that in a city 40 km away they will do it to us. Returning to the bus, the caretaker almost fell under the truck, he probably did not notice it, and the driver did not even try to avoid the obstacle ... he did nothing of it and kept walking. I think it happens a lot to him. Upon our return, we took the map and located the place where we had to go. After a short discussion, Daniel said that he would go alone, because it would be easier to hitch a foot on his own, and since he is a welder by profession, it will be easier for him to explain what and how. A bowl packed in a backpack, Daniel set out to save us from oppression. In the meantime, I was cleaning the engine block from silicone residues with nail polish remover, which I had stolen from the girls, and with dishwashing liquid. As for field conditions, the effect was satisfactory. After about two hours, a car with Daniel on board arrived, and he was holding a welded bowl in his hand, and the stone fell from our hearts again. In short, you can write from Daniel's story that he noticed a scrap next to the road, where he went to look for a new bowl, but he did not find it, but they directed him to another place where he could seek help, in fact, for a fee, the guest took him there, from that places they went to another place, where the nice gentleman welded aluminum in the barn. We managed to fix the bowl, it was checked to see if it was still leaking somewhere, then the same guy came for Daniel, dropping him off to the city center (not for free, of course), where he stopped the car that Daniel dropped off at us, they also managed to pay for it. On the way, Danielo bought 5 liters of oil. All this fun came out to us PLN 300. I had to clean the welded bowl from the remains of the old silicone, then we installed it.

We had to wait for the silicone to dry, and as the evening was approaching, we decided to sleep off the day and night full of impressions and set off in the morning. We spent the evening talking by the fire. During the night we were awakened by a raving, or rather, Gypsy revelers, screaming at the top of their throats, singing drunk songs, who were going to that restaurant for a party. We cycled a bit that they would decide to check who we are and what we are doing here. Fortunately, they either did not notice us or did not want to make new friends. In the morning, rested, washed in a nearby stream, we ate breakfast, and immediately afterwards we fed the Tripciak with fresh engine oil. We waited for half an hour, folding the tents and repacking the bus ... To get to the oil filler, we have to throw all our luggage outside. You can't see any leaks on the welds, the silicone keeps it, and we had nothing else to do but go to Sapanta.

After about 35 minutes, we reach the first destination of our trip, which is the Happy Cemetery. It is a cemetery unlike any other, mainly thanks to the local sculptor Ioan Stan Patraş, who in 1935 made the first tombstone depicting scenes from the life of the deceased, what the person did or how they died. Hmmm, the most common theme is being hit by a car or dying over a glass of vodka. Below the picture, we can find funny, funny poems written in the first person, as if the deceased was describing what he did on a daily basis and how he ended his life. During the tour, we came across a holy mass, where old grandmothers were standing in a row in front of the church, humming holy songs. At first, I decided that they were not appropriate to take photos, but the German tourists who spilled out of the bus started shooting photos like soldiers from a machine gun, and the grannies started to pose and smile ... Well, maybe they were there just for show? I took two photos myself and with this accent I went to the exit, where the rest of the crew were waiting. We continued our journey, but after driving a few hundred meters I noticed that the speedometer was not working. Cool, the speedometer line has broken for sure, if we continue to catch faults at such a pace, an interesting trip is getting ready. The speedometer was not really needed, in the end it was a bit distorted, and I controlled the speed by looking at the navigation display. However, with the lack of a speed reading, the distance traveled, which was used to calculate how much fuel we had left in the tank, stopped counting, because it happened that during previous trips the fuel gauge decided to nudge us from time to time. Right after Sapanta I went to the parking lot, fortunately after a quick inspection, it turned out that we lost the securing binder and the cable just fell out of the hub. Wire, insulating tape and tied cable went into motion. It was supposed to be a temporary patent, until we get to a bigger city or find a T-three on the road. The patent has traveled over 4,000 km with us and is still operational :)

The next point of our trip was the Transfogar route. There was practically one road from Sapanta, which at one point was renovated and a detour through local villages was built ... At some point the signs leading the detour disappeared, as well as the signposts, which made us a bit lost. The GPS was also not able to help us, so we were left to keep going. The road led through the picturesque Marmarosh Mountains, the views were wonderful ... As if going through Połonina Wetlińska. The road ran on gravel, sometimes on asphalt, along serpentine roads. We lost a few hours, but who cares about it driving through such areas, at least we had a warm-up for the Fagaras. Eventually we made it to the main road. We spent the rest of the day on the road to make up for lost time. We planned to be right at the beginning of the Transfogarska route, which we managed to do. We found a place to stay practically in the dark on the Olt River. In the morning, however, the landowner chased us away. We continued our journey without breakfast. We were not far away, so after less than an hour's drive, we managed to find a place for breakfast and an icy shower on the Cartisoara River, near the foot of the Fagar Mountains. The view was impressive, but the rubbish lying around spoiled the whole atmosphere.

We are slowly approaching the mountains we saw in the morning from the river, these are becoming more and more powerful. There comes the moment of climbing their slopes, twirling the serpentines while admiring the views. The Tripciak was doing great despite the large load, it climbed like crazy :) On the way we stop in a few bays, which are not missing here, we shoot a few photos, and the views are getting better and better. The famous streamers known to everyone from the photos are slowly starting. We turned a little bit and after a while we reached the highest point of the route, which is just above the glacial lake Balea. The enormity of people and cars effectively disorganized the traffic, and the magic of this place disappeared after a while, mainly due to the stalls placed everywhere, through which a group of tourists dressed from head to toe rolled over with iPhones, tablets in hand. Hence, probably, the prices at the stands PLN 40 for 100g of meat or salami ... Business must be spinning, well, obviously there is a demand. The guarded parking under the shelter gives us a prohibitive price for the stop, so we come back a bit earlier and leave the car on the bend just above a huge slope in one of the coves. I was a bit afraid of it, after all, Tripciak was supposed to be there alone for two days with all our belongings. We finished repacking, sleeping mats and tents stuck on, and we had nothing else to do but to throw heavy backpacks on our backs and set off on foot to the mountains to reach the highest peak of Romania - Moldoveanu (2544 m above sea level). More about our mountain adventures in the next part of the report: )