I slipped but managed to cling desperately to the snow covered rock. I arched my neck to look down below me and there was a 100 yard/meter drop. There is no way I could survive such a fall. I craned my neck up and the nearly vertical wall continued on several many more meters.

"How did I get myself into such a position?" I wondered.

SLOVENIA'S JULIAN ALPS

Slovenia is a dinky country between Italy, Austria, Hungary, and Croatia. Of course to us geographically ignorant Americans that means nothing, so all you gotta know is that it's in Europe somewhere.

As I left Austria I marveled at the mountainous countryside. It's hard to stop me from reading, but the views from the trains forced me to pay attention.

I went straight to the town of Bled. All the hostels were full, so I slept with some dead roommates in a cemetery.

I didn't think much of it, but perhaps this was a little foreshadowing....

CLIMBING THE TALLEST MOUNTAIN IN SLOVENIA

It was pouring rain when I started walking up at 11AM. It was snowing on top. I got to a hut and asked the ranger about going to the summit of Mt. Triglav. The conversation reminded me of when I asked a ranger in the High Tatras of Slovenia if I could cut across the mountains and go off the trail.

He said, "Not without a guide. You'll never make it."

"But have you considered the fact that I'm wearing tennis shoes, have no map, no compass, and I'm sporting all cotton clothing?"

He strained a fake smile.

But I did it anyway and survived. OK, so I dropped many valuable items in the process, but I didn't drop.

But I was on the brink of dropping myself a long way down when I clung onto a cold piece of rebarb on Mt. Triglav in Slovenia.

My hands were so cold that they burned in pain. Since every step was a slow arduous process up the wall, my feet were also cold (which is rare).

Without a map, I just woke up at 5AM and took the most direct route up the mountain. It's an impressive peak even though it's only 2864m/9394ft high. I found some spectacular pictures of Mt. Triglav (and the magical town of Bled with its church on an island and its fairytale castle on a hill).

As I marched up the mountain I wondered why I didn't see any other tracks in the snow. Then I understood why. The path led to a near vertical wall, complete with rebar, cables, and plenty of snow.

The problem was that the metal handholds were not evenly spaced out. There are stretches where you have to use your bare hands to grip the sharp rock. As a result, my hands were not only cold, but they were getting cut and scrapped. I saw blotches of red snow behind and below me and I realized it came from the blood dripping from my hands.

This climb would be tough without snow, but after the recent snow fall, I found myself in a precarious situation. I don't think I have ever been so scared in my life. If you don't count my previous night in the cemetery, I've never been so close to death.

IT'S LONELY AT THE TOP

I remembered what my Lonely Planet guidebook said about the Julian Alps. "Above 1500 meters you can encounter winter conditions anytime."

I was over 2,500 meters.

And then my favorite part: "Never EVER try to trek alone."

Feeling quite lonely midway up the wall, I suddenly heard a helicopter.

"Oh good, they're coming to save me."

I wanted to take a picture but I was too busy hugging the rock.

Instead the helicopter landed by the hut nearby, probably to drop off supplies and pick up the bodies of yesterday's failed hikers.

THE FINAL LEG

I eventually made it up the wall and ran into a pair of hikers at the pass who had taken a different approach trail. Together we climbed the last 100 meters, which was hard, but not ridiculous. They couldn't believe I was in sneakers. We took the easier way down, which allowed us to see the wall I climbed. Nobody else had followed my tracks.

I told my fellow hiker, "I gotta take a picture of the wall I climbed."

"Yeah," he said, "your friends back home will never believe you."

SLOVENIANS DON'T MINCE WORDS

Even the easy way down was still pretty gnarly. I passed climbers on their way up. I eventually I found my favorite Slovenian. He had a rock climbing helmet, sturdy boots, gloves, and a twisted look on his face.

He shouted something to me in Slovene and I said, "Sorry I don't understand."

He pointed at the white powder at my feet, "SNOW!"

I nodded.

He vigorously pointed at my snow covered sneakers, "SHOES!!"

I nodded.

Then he put the two together to form his complex sentence: "You IDIOT!!!"

And then walked by me.

Yes, it was a memorable moment during my Eastern European adventure.

SKOCJAN CAVES

My Lonely Planet guidebook puts Slovenia's Skocjan Caves in the Top 10 Attractions in Eastern Europe. It's also listed on UNESCO's elite list. So I had go.

It wasn't easy getting there. For starters, I had to cross the country.

OK, so that's not a big deal when it's only 100 miles from end to end, but still.

It was an eerie feeling when I was the only guy to get off the bus. Although it's nice to not to be free of tourists, when I completely alone I start to wonder. I soon learned why I was the only idiot using the bus: I ended up walking an hour in the hot sun to get to these stupid caves.

"This better be good."

They did not disappoint. I was amazed, especially with the 130 meter/yard deep canyon. It's the biggest underground canyon in the world.

It was illegal to take pictures, but there is a fantastic virtual tour. Just click on the numbers below to walk through. Of course, it's not the same as being there, but it's cheaper.

HITCHING WITH THE SPANISH

I befriended three Spanish folks from Barcelona (a couple and a guy). They offered to take me back with them. It would be a 2 hour drive back to the capital, Ljubjana (which means "beloved").

We stopped at a dramatic castle that is embedded into a massive cave entrance. Two good pics of Postojna's castle here:

SLOVENE LANGUAGE

For the first time in Eastern Europe, I found people that most people spoke English. The guidebook said that Slovenia was a nation of polyglots, and they're right. I had gotten used to having to ask 10 people to find one English speaker. Here I had to ask 10 people to find one person who did NOT speak any English.

Thank god because Slovene is a tricky language. It's grammatically complex with lots of cases, genders, and tenses and has something that is very rare in linguistics: singular, dual, and plural forms.

For example, it's one "miza" (table), two "mizi", and three or more "mize."

Jesus.

And I thought knowing that "foot" becomes "feet" was tough.

A BIT ABOUT SLOVENIA

I'll leave you with a quick history of this cool little country:

•  From the 9th to 15th centuries the upper classes were Germanized, while the peasantry retained their Slovenian identity.
•  They started writing Slovene in the early 18th century. What took them so long?
•  In the late 1980s the Serbian part of Yugoslavia asserted its authority over Kosovo and Slovenes feared the same would happen to them.
•  In 1990 Slovenia became the first Yugoslav republic to hold free elections and kick out the commies.
•  In 1991, the Slovenes fought a 10-day war with Yugoslavia and got their independence.

Today they're doing better the rest of the former Yugoslavia.

And today I am doing better now that I am on level ground.

I will stay away from the mountains. At least until I get to Transylvania....

NEXTALE: HOOKING UP WITH A HAWAIIAN IN HUNGARY

It was about 5AM when I took this self-portrait. I had slept outside just at the tree line. Near, but not in, a cabin. My tarp provided my shelter.

Even though it was August, the Julian Alps got slammed by a big snowstorm which covered up the trail. After a little searching I discovered that the "trail" went straight up the middle of this picture. It was nearly vertical!

You can see the handhold. No gloves made clinging to those metal poles uncomfortable. The alternative was plunging down the mountain to my death.

These photos don't do justice to how steep this rock face was. Of course, I only pulled out my camera in the safest places, where I wasn't hanging on for my dear life. I clutched the rock so tightly that I sliced my bare fingers in multiple places and left a small trail of blood behind me. Nobody followed me up.

I thought the helicopter might be coming for me, but it just went to drop off supplies at the cabin. I sure could have used a lift to the summit.

After making it up to the mountain pass and snapped this picture.

There's the mountain face that I climb without any gear or gloves. Oh, and I was in tennis shoes. Yes, I'm an insane idiot.

Another view of the mountain face. What was I thinking? Um, I wasn't!

I took a breather before pushing my way to the summit.

I met these two guys who took the easier (smarter) way up the mountain. We met at the pass and together pressed on to the summit. They couldn't believe that I came from the other approach without "proper" gear.

Woo-hoo!!! Standing on Mt. Triglav, the tallest mountain in Slovenia! The summit of the Julian Alps!

The two guys made the mandatory cell phone call from the summit.

The views to Italy looked like a painting.

This was the way down, which was the easy way down.

On my way down, I pointed to the summit.

The helicopter didn't come in time to save me in time.

It got warm as I came down in the elevation.

Eventually I would get down to the tree line and kiss the ground.

I hitchhiked and toured Slovenia with these three friendly Spaniards.

By August 28 I was at the fascinating Postojna's castle with the Spaniards. The castle is embedded in the cave, making it extremely difficult to attack and offering some natural escape routes for Erasmus, who once lived here. He would go through secret passages out of the cave and pick berries during a siege, waving them to his enemies to show that they weren't starving.