White water rafting has alway seemed to me something of which to be very, very wary. I suppose I could blame the 90's movie, The River Wild for my caution; I remember choking back fear as I watched that poor family forced down deadly rapids by an armed Kevin Bacon. However did they survive? Then again, perhaps Milo and Otis are to blame! Sweet kitties should not have to endure falling through waterfalls in nothing more than a wooden crate; I closed my eyes to the horror. More so, though, I am a seeker of beauty, not of thrills. When we realized that we were only a few hours from Europe's top rafting waters though, I knew my fears needed to be laid aside for the benefit of the family.
Where the borders of Bosnia, Serbia, and Montenegro meet lies the Tara River Canyon, second deepest in the world after the Colorado.
We elected to stay at the camp, Tri Vodenice, one of the originals to have sprung up along the river. Its name translates to "Three Watermills," and as you enter camp, it is the three mills that first greet you. There are other camps that have been more recently developed, spotless and orderly. Yet seeing them in person, I felt they lacked the charm of Tri Vodenice, a more traditional looking camp, settled so comfortably beneath the forest trees.
We came at the end of the summer, so most of the cabins were vacant with only a few other guests scattered about. I imagine the atmosphere is completely different during peak season when hordes descend upon the Tara, but for us the quiet was very relaxing. We worked for hours alongside the fire each day while cuddling Tom, the camp cat, and gorging ourselves on Chef Boba's homestyle cooking.
Our day white water rafting was incredible; I may have found my favorite river that day. Never have I seen such turquoise waters, such clarity while looking down into its depths. The Tara river is so pure you can drink straight from it. We would cup our hands over the side of our boat at any sign of thirst, satiated by its sweet waters.
During the summer months, the river is often crowded with numerous adrenaline junkies, but end of September, we had it completely to ourselves. When the water was calm, and all we were asked to do was leisurely row, our eyes greedily took in the scenery.
While floating down the river, if you look to the left bank, you are looking at Montenegro, the right, Bosnia Herzegovina . Because this section of the canyon cuts through the middle of two countries, it belongs to no one. Our guide laughingly told us there were no laws on the river. Harm someone and you walk free. In that moment, the clear, untroubled waters took on a more sinister air. I was safe with my guide, but was I with my husband? A jest of course, but one we enjoyed while rafting through "No Man's Land."
Between winter snow melt and spring rains, the Tara river can be very dangerous, with class five rapids enticing only the most experienced. By September the water level had dropped considerably and the water slowed. What takes forty-five minutes in April took us four hours. Halfway through, the sun was covered by clouds and the rains started. The water and air temperature were already cool, and so our wetsuits only helped preserve body warmth so much. We arrived back at camp shivering uncontrollably, yet exhilarated by the experience.
Another day we took a "Safari" ride through Sutjeska National Park. Our guide Carlo was a resident of the nearby town of Foca; he was the president of the local mountaineering club. We bumped along inside the camp's vintage Land Rover, inhaling the cold mountain air.
Inside the park is an old-growth forest, Perucica, one of only two located in Europe. An area of 3,500 acres, it is a UNESCO protected forest, impregnable in spots, and estimated at an age of 20,000 years. Walking among these trees was a dance, stepping gingerly between mossy roots that formed a haphazard pattern on the ground. Across the canyon, we could discern a waterfall through the mist, Skakavac, falling 246 feet to the river below.
We wound up and out through the forest, ending at an overlook near the top of the mountain range. We continued our exploration by embarking on a hike which led to Lake Trnovacko, heart shaped and under the gaze of Mount Maglic, the highest peak in Bosnia Herzegovina.
We made our way back, not wanting to say goodbye on the morn to this beautiful part of the country. And so we didn't. We stayed an extra day by the fire, waylaying the unpleasant journey by bus to Dubrovnik by one more day. When you find kind people, good food, and cat by the fire in an insanely beautiful setting, you stay a little longer.
Where the borders of Bosnia, Serbia, and Montenegro meet lies the Tara River Canyon, second deepest in the world after the Colorado.
There are quite a number of rafting camps that stretch along the river, all providing similar services to summer tourists. Stay at their camps and experience not only the thrill of a river run, but traditional meals in outdoor kitchens, music by the fire on weekends, and options to extend your visit with jeep tours, guided hikes, or canyoneering.
We elected to stay at the camp, Tri Vodenice, one of the originals to have sprung up along the river. Its name translates to "Three Watermills," and as you enter camp, it is the three mills that first greet you. There are other camps that have been more recently developed, spotless and orderly. Yet seeing them in person, I felt they lacked the charm of Tri Vodenice, a more traditional looking camp, settled so comfortably beneath the forest trees.
We came at the end of the summer, so most of the cabins were vacant with only a few other guests scattered about. I imagine the atmosphere is completely different during peak season when hordes descend upon the Tara, but for us the quiet was very relaxing. We worked for hours alongside the fire each day while cuddling Tom, the camp cat, and gorging ourselves on Chef Boba's homestyle cooking.
During the summer months, the river is often crowded with numerous adrenaline junkies, but end of September, we had it completely to ourselves. When the water was calm, and all we were asked to do was leisurely row, our eyes greedily took in the scenery.
While floating down the river, if you look to the left bank, you are looking at Montenegro, the right, Bosnia Herzegovina . Because this section of the canyon cuts through the middle of two countries, it belongs to no one. Our guide laughingly told us there were no laws on the river. Harm someone and you walk free. In that moment, the clear, untroubled waters took on a more sinister air. I was safe with my guide, but was I with my husband? A jest of course, but one we enjoyed while rafting through "No Man's Land."
Between winter snow melt and spring rains, the Tara river can be very dangerous, with class five rapids enticing only the most experienced. By September the water level had dropped considerably and the water slowed. What takes forty-five minutes in April took us four hours. Halfway through, the sun was covered by clouds and the rains started. The water and air temperature were already cool, and so our wetsuits only helped preserve body warmth so much. We arrived back at camp shivering uncontrollably, yet exhilarated by the experience.
Another day we took a "Safari" ride through Sutjeska National Park. Our guide Carlo was a resident of the nearby town of Foca; he was the president of the local mountaineering club. We bumped along inside the camp's vintage Land Rover, inhaling the cold mountain air.
Inside the park is an old-growth forest, Perucica, one of only two located in Europe. An area of 3,500 acres, it is a UNESCO protected forest, impregnable in spots, and estimated at an age of 20,000 years. Walking among these trees was a dance, stepping gingerly between mossy roots that formed a haphazard pattern on the ground. Across the canyon, we could discern a waterfall through the mist, Skakavac, falling 246 feet to the river below.
We wound up and out through the forest, ending at an overlook near the top of the mountain range. We continued our exploration by embarking on a hike which led to Lake Trnovacko, heart shaped and under the gaze of Mount Maglic, the highest peak in Bosnia Herzegovina.
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