The blue dot.

I’ve been climbing the Ignis Mountain for as long as I can remember.

Ignis is one of the mountains you can see from my parents’ courtyard in Baia Mare. It is, in fact, one of the mountains you can see from anywhere in town and, truth be told, it’s the mountain I never got tired of climbing, ever since I was a child. So what makes the Ignis Mountain so special to me? Well, come to think about it, it reminds me of my childhood, of how much snow we used to get, of the adventures I lived as a teenager and the list could go on and on. I’ve climbed and descended this mountain on every side possible. Still, in my book, the most spectacular – and also most challenging – is the route marked with a blue dot, which starts in Groapele Chiuzbaii.

Let me tell you a few things about this blue dot. For starters, what’s with the routes marked with various colours? These are routes that begin in the valleys at the foot of the mountain and provide secondary pathways to climb it. Though it’s fair to say that my favourite one, the blue dot, starts in the place known as Borcut, climbs through a valley, and then, in its upper half (which is also the most challenging because of the significant elevation), turns into a forest trail meandering through centuries-old trees and giant boulders that seem on the verge of collapsing. Eventually, after a hard climb, that trail reaches the alpine plain and then goes on all the way to the Ignis Peak, which puts you at 1307 m. That’s about it.

I have plenty of memories associated to this route. As a child I would climb this trail every weekend – just me and my friend, Radu. We had a 10 kg watermelon in a backpack and when we had completed about half of the climb we would stop, chill the watermelon, and then, naturally, eat it. Having stuffed our faces, we would then climb the upper half of the trail and, when we reached the summit, we would devour whatever was left in our backpacks. Once that was done, we spent some time enjoying the views, and then descended the same way we had come. Going down, we would start running, which was dangerous but definitely exciting for us as kids.

Another memory I have of this trail is about something that happened one winter. My friend and I (my friend being Radu, again) wanted to climb to Izvoare (for more about the Izvoare resort go to the blog post titled Rambling on the Ignis Mountain) hauling along our skis, ski boots, and backpacks. This was before 1990, so we had to walk all the way from Baia Mare. That being the case, we had only made it halfway through the climb when night fell. We spent the night in a mountain cabin that is long since history. All that’s left of it is the foundation, and that was used to erect a gazebo. So we slept in that cabin, enduring severe cold, despite the fire burning in the stove, and when I finally managed to fall asleep, I was fully clothed, wearing my ski boots and covered with everything I had on me. Was it exciting? Yes, it was. Was it worth it? Yes, it was – each and every feeling I experienced. For the rest, it made for a nice story, complete with us having to explain ourselves to our parents for returning home too early (since the high snow prevented us from reaching Izvoare and had us heading back home).

The last time I climbed this trail was 3 weeks ago. It’s a path that few people take now – and that’s a pity. In used to be as crowded as it gets, but now we only ran into a single family that was going up. I don’t even know what else to say. Now people climb the mountain in their cars (which is disgusting), in their ATVs, riding their motorbikes or their scooters. Most of them go there only to gaze at the town of Baia Mare from above and they can do without the pleasure of hiking up the mountain, of putting one foot in front of the other, or of being one with nature. That’s too bad. I, for one, had a great time, climbing on foot with two of my friends and the son of one of them. We had a good laugh, we climbed at a slow pace and yes, once we reached the top, we took the time to devour whatever we had in our backpacks. Truth be told, I also had a few treats from my friend, Cristi (thanks a lot for the crackers). I spent a great day, and we all ended it where we had started it, at the car we had left in Groapele Chiuzbaii.

Now here’s the thing. The way things stand now, that trail is likely to vanish in some 5 years, 10 at the most. What nature once gave us, nature is going to take away this time. Meaning that, for lack of hikers walking it, the trail will be slowly taken over by nature once more. It’s true that efforts have been made to refresh the markings and for that I am grateful to my friends at the Mountain Rescue Squad who did the work. But it’s still in vain if there aren’t any tourists.

Perhaps we should take action to promote this blue dot route, to bring it back to its former glory and advertise it to those who are looking for a truly spectacular hike not far from town.

Meanwhile, do climb the blue dot route, because it is breath-taking. Because nature does provide, but we need to make an effort ourselves. And because, ultimately, the Ignis Mountain doesn’t belong to me, but to us all – and it’s beautiful.

P.S.: come to think about it, it might be high time for me to do something for this trail, considering how many wonderful memories it has given me so far.

P.S. 2: Cami, this is for you, and I promise you this autumn I’ll be showing you my Ignis.