TOP TO BOTTOM Just outside of the Bansko Ski Resort boundary, Josh Anderson and Alexis Machovsky find six inches of blower on the flanks of Todorka Peak. Conditions proved far better than expected and the timing was perfect, too—wind came up the next day and blew it all to sheer ice. An aerial view of Melnik, Bulgaria. It’s not a ski destination by any means, but one of the more unique places to visit in the region. Words, Photos and Captions Ryan Salm air is dense with steam as I take a step down the concrete staircase. An over-weight Bulgarian man with a thick mus-tache gives me a quick half-glance before ignoring me completely. The heat shoots up my leg and over my naked nether region as I submerge myself into the hot water. Across the bath are my two compatriots, Josh Anderson and Jake Ward, both sporting glazed and confused expressions. Dimitar Dimitrov, author of Skiing the Balkans , told me to visit this communist-era bathhouse at the outskirts of Yakoruda. The building’s white concrete facade and chipping lead-based paint disguised its true wonder from the outside world. Earlier, when we opened the front door, an older Bulgar-ian babushka and two younger counterparts had stared at me, perplexed. Nothing in the lobby exclaimed, “Best bath in all of Bulgaria.” Immediately, the babushka pointed our female companions—Alexis Machovsky and Lindsey Felch—to a separate side of the building. It seemed abandoned, like a scene from a zombie movie. The lockers were open and empty, not an ounce of ambience anywhere. A mid-30s, butt-naked, tattoo-laden Bulgarian stopped in front of me. After sizing me up, he introduced himself as a member of the Bulgarian Special Forces. “Have you been here before?” he asked in a grave accent. “This will be uncomfortable for you at first, but this is the most amazing water on the planet.” a ski destination? Bordering the Black Sea, Turkey, Romania, Macedonia, Serbia and Greece, consider yourself the excep-tion if you do. The trip was Josh’s idea. His partner, Alexis Machovsky, is Bulgarian. Her sister and grandma live there and have a place in Bansko. There I was in our Tahoe-area home shredding well-documented perfection daily, making goo-goo-gaga sounds and cleaning poop out of my newborn daughter’s diaper when I made the questionalbe decision to buy a Turkish Airlines flight from San Francisco to Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria. As it turned out, Bansko was having one of its worst sea-sons to date. It was unseasonably warm and the snowpack was sketchy. The resort’s webcam was far from inspirational. But travel is about more than just skiing—ski travel can simply be a reason to experience something new. And Bansko, which is home to about 8,500 folks, was intriguing. Bansko lies at the foot of the Pirin Mountains, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It’s a relatively small range, but boasts more than 100 peaks over 2,000 meters, glacial lakes, deep forests, waterfalls and wildlife . The region has a rich cultural heritage that can be seen in some of the older villages, wood-carved architecture and the occasional horse-drawn cart. The town itself is quite developed and has seen considerable growth since the addition of a modern gondola in 2003. THE WE HAD SPENT the last five days in Bansko, Bulgaria’s larg-est ski resort, which had the bars, ski shops and après scene typical of a westernized resort. Bansko’s 245 acres of terrain is served by a gondola and eight chairlifts. But the idea of skiing there was certainly foreign—who thinks of Bulgaria as Bulgaria 073
The Ski Journal Volume 13, Issue 3: Page 73
