After a very comfortable night in Karlobag, we caught the bus for a 40km trip northwards along the coastal road that wound its way around the rugged and indented limestone that formed the base of the Velebit Mountains. Out to sea, the sun shone brightly on the off-shore islands, while, like yesterday, cloud still hung above the mountain tops. Suddenly, the bus conductor told us we were there - the bus stopped briefly and left us and our heavy packs at a lonely stop on the side of the road. We were at Klada, our starting point and our 4-day walk in the Velebit Mountains had begun.

As we flattened out again, we emerged into a clearing. It was Babrovača, the site of a small stone cottage and vegetable gardens belonging to a family from Klada. Again it offered views out to the Adriatic Sea. Then it was back into the forest for one of the longest climbs of the day.

The oak scrub of the seaward Velebit range

Refuelled by lunch, we headed onwards and upwards, passing jumbles of jagged rocks, which provided excellent viewpoints, and stopping at a small meadow for a pleasant rest in the sunshine. Yes, sunshine - it was here we noticed that the sun seemed to be winning the day as the clouds were being dispersed by a cold wind from the south. The cool wind did not stop us from sweating however, as we re-entered some beautiful tall beech forest and continued the climb up a somewhat muddy track.

A clearing on the climb

Then, suddenly we were descending, past Cigovane, a small clearing once inhabited by a gipsy family and on to another clearing where the tinkle of bells alerted us to presence of a dozen very friendly horses and one mule. They were resting around the old stone water-holes built by the long-gone Velebit farmers and followed us for a while, but then left as we headed back in to the forest and started climbing yet again - 1000m done, 300 to go.

An old livestock watering pond

However, as we climbed, we noticed the first snow-drifts on the ground, remnants of winter cover with purple crocus popping up through them. It was so aesthetic that we briefly lost the track and, instead of zig-zagging, we headed straight up the hill across a carpet of flattened brown beech leaves, newly exposed by the snow-melt. As expected though, we crossed a zig and picked up the zag - we were on track again, crossing snowdrifts on the path with no other footprints than a large canine (do wolves live in the Velebit?).

A long climbing traverse brought us out of this lovely forest and onto a limestone ridge that marked the pass to Zavižan. The sun was now dominant and the views from the pass were brilliant - a panorama westwards over the bright green forest we had just climbed up through to the blue of the sea and the islands offshore and a sweeping view eastwards across a grassy depression to the limestone tops of the Velebit Range with (loud hallelujahs) Zavižan Hut looking down on us.

The only downside, was that someone opened the fridge door - a strong and gusting icy wind also greeted us as we reached the tops. We hurried quickly across the low saddle to make the last ascent to the hut, where we were greeted by Ante, who manages the met station there and the hut. Ante's family, the Vukošić from Klada are long-time inhabitants of the Velebit region and have been meteorologists at Zavižan for several generations.

Ante - meteorologist and hut-keeper

The home-distilled slivovitz and cup of hot mint tea that he offered us soon took the chill away. It was needed as Ante told us the temperature was currently 4°C (and that is the official met station reading).

Zavižan is an active meterological station

The warm interior of Zavižan Hut

After settling in, we made the last pack-free climb to the top of Vučjak Mountain, just behind the hut. Mission accomplished, the rest of the afternoon was set aside for relaxing and enjoying the magnificent mountain scenery in the evening light - a job made easier by the warmth of the big tile stove in the refuge. Zavižan is a great place to spend a night and being here made the climb worthwhile. Now, let's cross our fingers for the weather tomorrow.

Some days you should leave your fingers uncrossed. After a comfortable and warm night in Zavižan, I woke and looked out the window. High cloud had taken over the sky and bands of low cloud were drifting up from the coast and creating mists that from time to time obscured the views. Still, by the time we packed up, put on our wind-proof gear and farewelled Ante, things were looking a bit more positive and a pale watery sun was even trying to shine through the high cloud layer.

We headed quickly down to road from the hut, taking time to admire the views over the alpine botanic garden in its grassy bowl backed by the triangular peak of Balinovac. Then it was back on to the road and around the leeward side of of Mt Veliki Zavižan. The road was soon blocked by thick snow drifts beneath the bright green of the beech forest. We picked our way along the edge to reach our objective, the start of Premužićeva Staza (the Premužić Trail), a track-building masterpiece constructed in the 1930s by an engineer of the same name to provide work for foresters during the depression.

The wide stone track led us away from the road, past a shallow sink-hole, and into the forest. Once again we were walking beneath the tall beech, this time on a snow covered path, accompanied by the mournful call of a cuckoo. After a while, we began to notice the odd wet drop - it was time to stop and put on our wet weather gear. Just in time too, as it rapidly turned from drops to showers to steady rain.

The trail is a remarkable feat of engineering

Fortunately, visibility wasn't too bad, as we were now entering the most spectacular part of the day's walk, where Premužić's track took us smoothly into a landscape of rugged limestone formations, steep-sided walls, crags, cliffs and bluffs.

On either side views extended over the green forest to more distant peaks of the Velebit. We were entering the surreal world of the Rozanski Kukovi, following this spine of twisted limestone. Even the rain could not suppress the rugged beauty of this place, though the white of sunlit limestone was for us replaced by the white of snow-covered path or deep snow-filled sink-hole.

We wandered by the impressive peak of Gromovača, the weather too bleak to even consider a short detour to its top. Pushing on with the rain beginning to find its way through our wet-weather gear, we followed the path beneath tall cliffs to reach the little shelter of Rossijevo.

Gromovača (1676m)

It was a very pleasant sight indeed and even moreso was the little pot-belly stove. The stove was difficult to get going, but after the fair Nello finally discovered that the problem was an over-full ash-tray, it roared into life and was soon drying wet gear and providing warmth for our lunch-break. Trekking really does reduce life to the basics - warmth, food and shelter.

Rossijevo Shelter in the mist

We spent 2 hours in the refuge, joined briefly by a German couple taking their dog for a walk in the rain, watched the fog roll by and the rain come and go. Then we bit the bullet and set off again, continuing our route along this spine of jumbled limestone slabs, working our way upwards to the base of mist-shrouded Crikvena and then steeply down a set of steps through a snow-covered crevice - a gap in the fog opened up magnificent views of the peaks around and then closed again.

The fog descends

The steps brought us into a deep bowl of forest and rocky hollows through which the path meandered, often blocked by deep snowdrifts that forced us to cut steps into the soft snow to regain the path. We were grateful for the red and white markers that kept us on route.

Snowy bowl below Crikvena

Finally we crossed on to a west-facing slope and a short section of snow-free track - it was a false hope for it led us into deep beech forest on the northern slope of Goli Vrh, where the track vanished beneath the deep snow. For a couple of kilometres we trudged our away along, following some old footprints and the occasional track marker. It was slow going, and when you stopped you could feel the silence - a special place indeed.

Crossing a series of grassy bowls, we were again led into the forest to start another long descent in the snow with a dash of hail for seasoning (my stoicism was starting to be tested). The snow was, however, getting thinner as we lost elevation, making walking easier. Finally, we reached one last big drift where the track vanished, along with the footprints that we were following. After a bit of consternation, my GPS indicated where the route should be and the fair and eagle-eyed Nello spotted a red and white marker in the forest in that direction. We were back on track and soon reached the junction for Kuća Alan.

From here, we descended a now snow-free, but wet and muddy track and, 10 minutes later, emerged from the forest to the welcome sight of the Alan Hut, smoke drifting from it chimney. Warmth, shelter and hot food awaited - happiness required nothing more at that moment.

I am sitting writing this beneath the beech trees of the Velebit, looking at the crumbling stone huts of Skorpovac, a mountain village abandoned in the 1970s when isolation and life became too hard for the remaining old people - a sad fate of many villages in these areas. The fair Nello and I are also sipping some potent home-distillate offered to us by Tihomir, the caretaker of Skorpovac Sklonište, a recently built and very comfortable log-cabin style shelter that is our haven for the night. We have just completed a great day of walking, mainly in the sunshine, which I would not have imagined yesterday.

When we woke this morning, the sky was still grey though the rain had gone. Our wet weather gear and boots were all dry, thanks to a night suspended over the wood-fired stove of Irena and Stefan, our kind hosts at Kuća Alan. It was good to feel dry again as we farewelled them and set off up the road to rejoin the Premužićeva Staza at a point marked by a monument to the Partisan fighters of World War II.

Startled deer (at 24X zoom)

From the monument we headed south into forest on a track lined with soft brown beech leaves - it was bliss not having to trudge through snow. The track emerged from the forest high above a grassy valley, criss-crossed with the drystone walls of long-gone Velebit farmers. In the distance a solitary deer bolted up the slope and over the ridge.

The morning was looking good and it got even better as we crossed the ridge ourselves to be be greeted by a glorious view out across the Adriatic to the off-shore islands of Pag and Rab.

Thus began a long traverse southwards along the western face of the Velebit, a grassy meadow with the occasional grove of beech and oak, accompanied by ever-changing panoramic views of the off-shore islands, as far out as Cres and Losinj in the hazy distance. To top it all, the sun came out, the meadow-larks began to sing and the whites, blues and yellows of wildflowers speckled the green mountain meadows. This is why we walk.

Eventually, the track turned inland to enter beech forest. The stony surface of the Premužićeva Staza led us on smoothly beneath the luminous green canopy of new spring leaves. This track evens out the elevation changes, but at times the surface is very uneven which requires strong ankles. Twice, I tested the elasticity of my ankle ligaments, luckily without dire consequences.

Stunted pines of the ridge-line

Breaks in the forest provided more views over the coast to stop and contemplate as alternating bands of cloud and sunshine rolled across. Reaching a fork in the track, we opted for the low road. The high road led back up to the heights of the Velebit and possibly more snow - yesterday was our mountain tops day, today is the day for sea views.

A lush valley near Gornja Korita

Heading gently down through the forest, we reached a small bluff to start traversing across a slope of jagged limestone outcrops high above a grassy valley. Sheltered from the cool breeze, it was a good spot for lunch. Continuing on, a set of zig-zags at the head of the valley brought us down to Gornja Korita, a small spring in a shady gully. Water being a premium in these porous limestone mountains, we stopped to top up our bottles and headed on, rounding the valley to climb steadily up to the next saddle. This part of the Premužićeva Staza seemed to be suffering the ravages of time more than elsewhere, in parts overgrown by plants and in other parts its edges crumbling due to the forces of erosion and gravity. Still, it offered an incredibly even route with very smooth elevation changes.

Crossing the saddle to reach the neighbouring valley, we also found ourselves on a drier slope covered with flowering herbs and shrubs. The afternoon sun warmed the slope and our spirits as we traversed a region of wild roses, wild irises and many other wildflowers. Below the valley was gridded with the dry-stone walls marking the fields of Radlovac village, from where the tinkling bell of some farm animal drifted up.

We had one last saddle to cross, and the Premužićeva Staza sidled gently up to it to begin a long descent through the lush beech forest on its inland slope. This path gradually merged with a road, where we saw the welcome sight of the Skorpovac shelter with its kitchen and 10-bed bunkroom, where I now sit.

We were welcomed by Tihomir, the first person we had seen since leaving Kuća Alan, and had a pleasant chat, proving that you don't need to master one another's language to communicate. It had been a superb day - our longest day, but in many ways the easiest with no big climbs and no bad weather, and we had seen a very different Velebit, both in landscape and in mood. This walk has so many different aspects to offer - what will tomorrow bring?