Amazing Encounters of the Motorcycle Kind
Ride Report from North Macedonia
By Zee Traveler
The sound of a tractor ambling along in a field nearby woke me to the barely discernible view of the grassy hillside nearest to me covered in thick, rolling fog. It was totally obscuring the low, bush covered mountains across Limni Zazari, a small and calm pond in northern Greece, that I had watched the sunset over while setting up camp the evening before. Rays of sunlight were struggling to break through the haze while a steady wind blew the moisture under the gazebo I was trying to go back to sleep under. While walking to find a place for morning business I marveled at the glistening, mist covered spider webs that were all across the field, and even on my motorcycle. Being unable to fall back asleep, I spent my free time waiting for the fog to dissipate and the temperature to rise by reading a book in my warm, cozy quilt and pad. As soon as the conditions improved, at the gloriously late time of 1000am, I had my camping gear dried, packed, and was on my way towards the border crossing at Niki, Greece for North Macedonia.
Cruising along the mostly flat and slightly curvy E65, the day developed into a beautiful, clear, and warm afternoon that I was thoroughly enjoying riding in. That is, I was enjoying it until one of the many bugs I killed with my fast moving projectile of a body and motorcycle decided to take revenge in death. A noticeable hit to the collar of my hoodie caught my attention and as I went to wipe it off, the little bugger stung me on the throat. Muttering explicit words as I aggressively braked to a stop, I barely got the kickstand down as I frantically unlatched my helmet while simultaneously almost falling off the bike. I ripped my riding jacket off like it was on fire and pulled my hoodie off all the while hoping the evil winged creature didn’t fall down my shirt to sting me again. No doubt the drivers going by thought the rider stripping on the side of the road was a tad crazy but I’d be damned if I got stung more than once if I could help it. After inspecting the mark and finding it swollen, red, and painful I decided there wasn’t much I could do with the kit I was carrying. My clothes got a thorough inspection before being put back on and I continued to the border, praying I didn’t have an allergic reaction and hoping for an easy crossing.
As luck would go, the crossing went smoothly and my first stop was a gas station for WiFi to locate a reputable currency exchange and highly rated local restaurant for lunch in the nearest sizable town, Bitola. North Macedonia isn't a widely known country, but they have their own currency, the Macedonian denar, which was around 55 to $1 USD when I exchanged. No matter what the exchange was, my stomach was growling and the bike needed gas so I zipped off to town to take care of business. Bitola traffic came as a surprise, the other European countries I had previously visited had madman-like drivers; always speeding, aggressive, ignoring the lines, and driving in what can seem like a chaotic fashion. Yet this town was slow and relaxed, not just the cars and pedestrians that causally meandered around, but the entire feel of the town was calming and peaceful. The restaurant I had chosen, named Kus Kus, was in an old downtown-style area with pedestrian only cobblestone roads and comfortable outdoor seating that I helped myself to. The menu was in English, which I was grateful for as I wouldn't have the headache of using Google Translate to read it, and my waiter also spoke enough English to help with recommendations. After ordering an appetizer of fried eggplant and squash with a chicken pineapple curry and rice entree paired with a local beer to wash it down, I logged onto the WiFi to update my friends on my current whereabouts. The meal was absolutely scrumptious with well balanced flavors and quality ingredients that I thoroughly enjoyed, which set me back a whopping $9.64 with tip.
As luck would go, the crossing went smoothly and my first stop was a gas station for WiFi to locate a reputable currency exchange and highly rated local restaurant for lunch in the nearest sizable town, Bitola. North Macedonia isn't a widely known country, but they have their own currency, the Macedonian denar, which was around 55 to $1 USD when I exchanged. No matter what the exchange was, my stomach was growling and the bike needed gas so I zipped off to town to take care of business. Bitola traffic came as a surprise, the other European countries I had previously visited had madman-like drivers; always speeding, aggressive, ignoring the lines, and driving in what can seem like a chaotic fashion. Yet this town was slow and relaxed, not just the cars and pedestrians that causally meandered around, but the entire feel of the town was calming and peaceful. The restaurant I had chosen, named Kus Kus, was in an old downtown-style area with pedestrian only cobblestone roads and comfortable outdoor seating that I helped myself to. The menu was in English, which I was grateful for as I wouldn't have the headache of using Google Translate to read it, and my waiter also spoke enough English to help with recommendations. After ordering an appetizer of fried eggplant and squash with a chicken pineapple curry and rice entree paired with a local beer to wash it down, I logged onto the WiFi to update my friends on my current whereabouts. The meal was absolutely scrumptious with well balanced flavors and quality ingredients that I thoroughly enjoyed, which set me back a whopping $9.64 with tip.
While waiting on the typically slow service of most restaurants in Eastern Europe, I noticed that a slight detour could make Galichitsa National Park on my way. Unsure whether to take the extra hour, a friend from Facebook conveniently recommended it right before I left the restaurant to continue to my next destination. To get there I hopped onto R1307, which skirted the northwestern edge of Lake Prespa, a beautiful body of crystal clear and smooth aqua blue water. It was certainly fantastic riding next to it but the scenery achieved another level of gorgeous as I climbed up and over the mountains on the road P504. After each sharp switchback I was briefly able to take in the sprawling view of the lake; of the yellow, orange, and red foliage before another exciting turn would require my full attention. Many times I stopped for photos and fell in love with the shape of the lake, of each jutting edge of the shore sweeping in and out with the backdrop of wide, pointy mountains surrounding it. Not only was I blessed with almost nonexistent traffic on the entire ride across the park but the weather was also perfect even with moving up in elevation. The air was crisp with an autumn chill but not too cold, the sky clear with little to no breeze, and the sun beaming down proudly on our gorgeous planet. Not even in my dreams could I have made this day up.
The ride to the top didn't take long and soon my views were of brown grass covered peaks with large clusters of trees spotting the landscape. That didn't last long as I crested the last rise that hid Lake Ohrid, and I was amazed that the breathtaking view of the last lake could be bested so soon. The finest curves of the whole ride were down the west side so while the view was distracting in a good way, most of my focus was on the thrill of leaning my bike into each corner.
The ride to the top didn't take long and soon my views were of brown grass covered peaks with large clusters of trees spotting the landscape. That didn't last long as I crested the last rise that hid Lake Ohrid, and I was amazed that the breathtaking view of the last lake could be bested so soon. The finest curves of the whole ride were down the west side so while the view was distracting in a good way, most of my focus was on the thrill of leaning my bike into each corner.
Too soon I reached the road north that would take me around the lake and through the town of Ohrid, but was required to pay $2 (the outrage) for the national park fee before I could continue. Having no reason to hang around in town I continued onto Vevchani Springs, and honestly couldn't remember how or why it have became a saved pin on my map. You could say I found myself unprepared, for the town Vevchani proved to be the strangest and quirkiest town I ever twisted a throttle in. The roads were highly uneven stonework, sloping up and down at steep angles with sharp turns at every intersection. Many streets were what I assumed were two way but only wide enough for one, yet that's just a guess as there weren't street markings of any form as far as the eye could see. There were pseudo-streets that had great drop offs into people's yards, and you had to be careful not to go down one as backing up would be an impossible feat. Never once did I spy a stop or speed limit sign, not that any two or four wheeled machine would go fast with the blind corners and rough roads. The shock was wearing off as I pulled around a pile of wood in the road and parked near the souvenir stand by the entrance to the springs. A man from said souvenir stand came over who told me it was okay that I parked there, and also informed me I would be able to see the spring for free as the pay booth was closed for the season. Off I walked across a bridge and into a luscious forest...
Vevchani Spring is regarded as a national rarity to Macedonia, and very protected, in part due to its special glacial lake, Vevchanska Lokva, and also for it's highly diverse ecosystem of trees, fauna, insects, and wildlife. While I would've loved to have gone out to explore Vevchanska Lokva on my hike, it wasn't allowed so I contented myself with staying on the trail provided around that section of the spring. For about half an hour I walked around, haphazardly climbing out on a tree for a better photo, and reading the signs along the trail. There were Catholic alters in small buildings all along the path and the only other people there were a couple teenage girls having a picnic at one of the tables. The sun was setting and that meant I needed to conclude my meandering and get to camp. After buying a few souvenirs from a woman who appeared at the stand in place of the friendly man before, I mounted my steed and pointed my handlebars south.
The campsite I found for the night was a free one from an app called Park4night and was called 'Kamp Treska' on Google Maps. It wasn't far from the Albanian border but was on a road that you couldn't cross through on, which made it a dead end, and would be perfect for me. To get there I had to pass through the cute little town of Radozhda that had a narrow road along the shoreline of Lake Ohrid and many restaurants on stilts out over the water. The signs advertising specialty fish dishes were tempting my stomach to get me to stop for dinner but my dislike for making camp after dark swayed me to keep going. Shortly outside of town my destination was on the left and down I went on an abandoned looking road into the biggest surprise of the day.
Vevchani Spring is regarded as a national rarity to Macedonia, and very protected, in part due to its special glacial lake, Vevchanska Lokva, and also for it's highly diverse ecosystem of trees, fauna, insects, and wildlife. While I would've loved to have gone out to explore Vevchanska Lokva on my hike, it wasn't allowed so I contented myself with staying on the trail provided around that section of the spring. For about half an hour I walked around, haphazardly climbing out on a tree for a better photo, and reading the signs along the trail. There were Catholic alters in small buildings all along the path and the only other people there were a couple teenage girls having a picnic at one of the tables. The sun was setting and that meant I needed to conclude my meandering and get to camp. After buying a few souvenirs from a woman who appeared at the stand in place of the friendly man before, I mounted my steed and pointed my handlebars south.
The campsite I found for the night was a free one from an app called Park4night and was called 'Kamp Treska' on Google Maps. It wasn't far from the Albanian border but was on a road that you couldn't cross through on, which made it a dead end, and would be perfect for me. To get there I had to pass through the cute little town of Radozhda that had a narrow road along the shoreline of Lake Ohrid and many restaurants on stilts out over the water. The signs advertising specialty fish dishes were tempting my stomach to get me to stop for dinner but my dislike for making camp after dark swayed me to keep going. Shortly outside of town my destination was on the left and down I went on an abandoned looking road into the biggest surprise of the day.
Kamp Treska, from what I could see, used to be a large and prosperous campsite over a large section of lake shore. It was nestled on a beautiful dark stone beach with spectacular views of the mountains across the water with the late afternoon sun turning the water into a blue marble. Right on the edge of the land before and above the beach were two perfect trees for my hammock and I set on quickly hanging it up. Something about the place inspired my curiosity and I was excited to explore the area as soon as camp was made, just in case it got dark while I was walking around. Hammock up and everything in place for the night, off I went along the beach to the east to see what I could find... There were old abandoned canopies, a mini camper that hadn't been livable for at least twenty years, plants overgrown on everything, and trash everywhere. Yet for some reason the place spoke to me and I continued up the hill and over towards the decrepit bunkhouses for more explorations. Looking into each house I saw the remnants of two beds in each one and at least fifteen of the buildings hidden among the overgrowth. Finding a path free of painful thorny vines, I got behind them without much injury and into a large bathhouse that used to obviously be very nice as evidenced by the quality of tiles lining the stalls. Heading up the hill I found bigger bunkhouses with single rooms attached in sets of three and the giant main building, which had a large deck with the skeleton of what used to be a shelter attached to it. Upon looking inside, the main floor looked like possibly a gathering hall or a dance area of some sort. Around the side, the opening to the basement showed ancient clothes washing and drying machines. Everywhere I could see was evidence of vandalism, garbage, and decay but there was so much potential to the place that I instantly fell in love with the property.
Circling back to the west of my spot there was a few bits to an old boardwalk on the water that made for a nice photo as the sun was about to go down. It was time for some rest from my long day so I watched the beautiful sunset from the swinging of my hammock, and drifted off into the darkness with daydreams about what I would do to turn this abandoned location into an extraordinary destination for every kind of traveler...
Circling back to the west of my spot there was a few bits to an old boardwalk on the water that made for a nice photo as the sun was about to go down. It was time for some rest from my long day so I watched the beautiful sunset from the swinging of my hammock, and drifted off into the darkness with daydreams about what I would do to turn this abandoned location into an extraordinary destination for every kind of traveler...
If you have any feedback, advice, tips, or questions feel free to email me at ziya3@yahoo.com.
If you enjoy my content or appreciate my work with Bunk-a-Biker/Minimalist Motorcycle Vagabonds and want to support me, please consider signing up to become a $1 a month patron with Patreon or sending gas money via PayPal. Thank you for reading!
If you enjoy my content or appreciate my work with Bunk-a-Biker/Minimalist Motorcycle Vagabonds and want to support me, please consider signing up to become a $1 a month patron with Patreon or sending gas money via PayPal. Thank you for reading!