The Dovbush Rocks. The magic of the stone formations and the trial in the "Purgatory" massif

A hike in the Carpathians is wonderful at any time of year. But while schoolchildren and students are on holiday, I would like to remind you of a unique monument of nature and history — the Dovbush Rocks.




Part of the rock formation spreads out near the village of Bubnyshche in the Ivano-Frankivsk region, 11 km from Bolekhiv. The first time I went there was with my sons, when they were 8-9 years old. It was March, the slopes of the Subcarpathian mountains were still covered with snow, and the climb up to the rocks proved to be no easy test; some members of the group turned back at once to look for their adrenaline in the kolyba. Not without difficulty we climbed the gentle but slippery slope, and it was not in vain. We were met by stone giants 30 — 40 metres high in snow-white caps, whose bizarre shapes recalled fantastical aliens, gloomy sorcerers and evil spirits. On one of the rocks you can see a clearly outlined, grim human face.



And what a wonderful view of the snow-covered Carpathians opens up if you climb onto the plateau! The descent to the bus turned out to be even harder. We rolled down holding hands, and slid across the smooth, ice-covered surface. Sometimes I would go down first and then catch the children. In a word, even in winter a hike to the rocks is interesting, instructive and entirely doable.
The second time was last October, when the Carpathians are painted in all the colours of golden autumn.





The first stop is by the river Sukil, at the foot of the reserve.





The rocks formed about 70 million years ago and are wrapped in a mass of legends. In the middle of the 18th century this was the camp of the Carpathian Robin Hood — Oleksa Dovbush. Somewhere in a mysterious cave the treasures of the folk hero are hidden; you need only say the right word and the treasure will open to view. So far no one has guessed that word.





But even without that, the stone kingdom is a popular tourist route, and everyone finds here something new and unexplored for themselves.





There really are caves here, both of natural origin and man-made — even walls, ceilings, steps. There was a well. Probably the cave served as a rock monastery for the ancient Christians.



Rock climbers love this ridge and have laid out a multitude of routes of various difficulty grades; climbing competitions are held regularly.





Here, thank God, no one has died, but a cross in memory of all the climbers who have perished has been set up on one of the rocks.



All around stretches a beech forest. You marvel at how the roots cling to the stones, and the tree finds the strength to grow and reaches up towards the sun.







Visitors are invited to pass through "Purgatory" — a deep, dark crevice that cleaves the rock massif. Supposedly, whoever passes this difficult trial will be forgiven all their sins.





Not everyone was up to this test of endurance. The first to drop out of the race were the men with beer bellies. They were soon joined by the plump little dumplings. At the bottom of this ravine a half-darkness always reigns. We made our way in single file along the narrow, hidden path, while the daylight barely broke through the narrow slit of the stone sack.







Squeezing ever deeper into the narrow crevice, we reached the point of no return. You could move only sideways and with your body flattened, at the same time raising your leg high, turning the knee 90 degrees and feeling for a ledge between the boulders. No freedom of movement, the space reduced to a minimum. There is nothing to hold on to; the walls are polished to a shine, whether by nature or by the bodies of sinners. The one walking ahead would give a hand to the next. And the one behind in the chain would push, otherwise there is no getting through the fairly steep and narrow ascent in the monolith of sandstone. There turned out to be several such "moments of truth". But there is no way back — you can only repent, and maybe the gods will hear.



Some 15 metres from the bottom of the ravine, a sleeping place is fitted out in a niche for those who do not make it out of "hell"; it is called the "Crow's Nest". But you still have to reach it. And from the surface the berth lies at a depth of 20 m.



What helped us get out of the rock labyrinth was a sense of humour in this group of strangers, brought close together by an extreme situation, and the prompts of our guide Khrystyna, who, like an experienced midwife, received us at the exit from the stone womb. The photographer Ihor captured the moment of our coming into God's world in agony, but I am not showing that photo. To the disappointment of the many who had hoped for forgiveness, at the exit from "Purgatory" it turned out that the first time round only one's resort sins are forgiven.







I very much enjoyed the trip to this wonderful place, and if I can, I will repeat the hike and test myself once again. And I will share my impressions with you.