Rudno Polje -> Vodnikov Dom – too many clouds, too many people, too many stones

20. August 2025

 

 

8,1 km

585 m up

100 m down

3:15 hrs.

This is, what Mapy says to the actual hiking day..

We first drove to Rudno Polje. A few kilometers before reaching it, we already saw enthusiastic people on roller skis. Rudno Polje belongs to Pokljuka (or the other way around – and isn’t that a beautiful word, one I would have placed in Finland rather than here), and there is a large center for biathlon, cross-country skiing, and the like. So quite a few people train there year-round. These and other people park their cars there, and some set off on various hikes in the Triglav area of the Julian Alps. The interesting thing about the parking lot: it is huge and has one section where you have to pay (€7 per day) and one where you don’t. But what additional benefit you get for paying (at the parking meter), we never figured out. So we parked for free.
After parking we took our backpacks and started the hike.

 

 

First, we followed a wide trail for a short stretch. Then it turned into a narrower path, and we went up and up.

 

 

 

And then we caught sight of the rocks. At first, it was overcast, but soon the clouds grew thicker and darker—and then they released their rain.

 

 

 

That was a bit frustrating because the mountain scenery kept getting more beautiful, yet there was no dry place to linger—only a semi-dry spot where we quickly ate our lunch. The rain wasn’t very heavy, but it was steady.

 

 

 

 

 

We encountered a lot of people—easily well over a hundred. And that in this weather! We learned that “Good Day” in Slovenian is “Dober Dan,” but most people just called out the short version “Dan,” or simply said “Hello” or “Hi.” It is said that every Slovenian should stand on Triglav, Slovenia’s highest mountain, at least once. We were nearby, and since many people had helmets (even children with helmets), we assumed many of them were Slovenians coming down from Triglav. But who knows? (We later learned that wasn’t entirely true.) It was also noticeable:

 

• They almost always hike in larger groups rather than alone or in pairs.
• Footwear was often just sneakers.
• They all seemed consistently friendly.

I, on the other hand, became increasingly grumpy inside. I hadn’t imagined it would be this crowded. Nor, of course, this rainy—but at some point, it simply has to be wet in the mountains. I also started struggling with the terrain. Almost everywhere, the paths were full of large and small stones, which made walking difficult—especially when wet and slippery.

 

We climbed a pass and then followed a beautiful high-altitude trail—unfortunately without the kind of views you’d have on a clear day.

 

 

 

 

There, it also became a bit dangerous, and a sign warned of falling rocks. Fortunately, none came down.

 

 

 

In Austria and Germany, you can sometimes see quite a few memorial plaques. Here, not so many—just one.

 

 

The rain had mostly stopped around the pass, and we continued hiking toward the hut. The trail felt a bit long, though, because of all the stones, which made walking somewhat tiring.

 

 

 

But then the hut came into view, and the landscape was breathtaking.

 

 

 

 

 

The hut was full. I had suspected as much, since there were only a few beds left when we made the reservation. What was particularly different here compared to the previous huts in the Rätikon was:

• Everything was older and more cramped.
• The dining room was too small, so not everyone could sit (and eat) at the same time.
• There was only one washroom with three sinks and no gender separation (I was in there with two other women at the same time, so we temporarily declared it a women’s washroom).
• There were only four toilets with gender separation, and one men’s toilet couldn’t be locked.
• The hosts weren’t particularly warm or welcoming, which meant the overall atmosphere wasn’t very lively.

 

The guests were quite international. We immediately met an Australian with his uncle, worn-out sneakers, and lots of cheerfulness, and later a solo-hiking Latvian woman who wasn’t very open. Otherwise, the acoustics were poor, it was too loud for me, and I wasn’t really happy.

 

For dinner, you could choose from four pre-cooked and prepared dishes, which were quickly served along with a piece of cake. Drinks were only available in plastic bottles or cans, and unfortunately there was absolutely nothing resembling an apple spritzer or elderflower water.

 

I have to admit: I wasn’t really happy with this tour choice. And a lot of rain was forecast for the next day. The route we had originally planned included a difficult climbing section, which we were particularly advised against in rainy conditions. There was no other good way. We decided on a different hut, had to pay 100% cancellation fees (grr), and couldn’t reach the alternative by phone to check if there would be space for us. A hiking guide said we shouldn’t worry, the host would probably accommodate us, but we should expect a significant loss of comfort. Great…

 

Would my bad mood last? This time, no cliffhanger—the answer is already revealed: no, I would even be thrilled!