I can see the Millennium Cross at night, silhouetted against the sky, when I make my way to my hostel. I decide I will climb up to it in the morning.
The cross stands at the top of Mount Vodno at 1,066 metres. The route is easy enough to follow, and it seems that all roads lead to the cross, so a wrong turn probably isn’t problematic as long as it is still going up.
I pass many people, but one family of four takes a bit of work. The father has a radio attached to his daypack blaring out music. One of his boys stops on the trail, points at something on the ground, and yells something at his father. He needs to yell because of the loud music. The mother is trailing the group. I make the usual noises – cleared throat – to indicate I’d like to pass, but she doesn’t notice. Finally I yell “Hi there” and she turns to see me. She yells something to her family and needs to repeat it before they hear her. They make room for me to pass and I wonder what the hell kind of family nature walk this is. I’ve never seen – heard really – anything like it. Is this a new nature-outing trend?
The path is muddy in many places. I slip plenty of times but manage to keep my feet. The forest is beautiful, my heart rate is up, I’m sweating profusely, and I realize how much I’ve missed this type of hiking, climbing a trail to get to the summit. I haven’t done it in almost a year.
After a couple of hours of steady climbing, I reach the summit and the Millennial Cross. I’m surprised to see so many people there, many who do not look like they have been hiking, but then I notice the cable cars rhythmically arriving at the top, filled with people.
The cross is massive, 66 metres high, built in 2002 as a memorial for two thousand years of Christianity. It’s seriously impressive. Despite that the cross was built so recently, it looks like there are already significant repairs happening.
The views in all directions are incredible in the morning sunlight. There is a little playground at the summit, so the views are enhanced by the laughter of children. I decide to enjoy the view with a beer, which is sold at a kiosk near the top of the cable cars. Buying beer on a mountain summit isn’t something one sees much in Canada, so I indulge. A beer and a chocolate-cream-filled croissant. It sounds better than it tastes.
I take a different route on the descent, which takes me to the bottom of the cable cars and several parking lots filled with vehicles. A few minutes later, rain clouds roll in and the skies open.
