(Dolomiti u Srbiji) - Serbian Dolomites

 

Rosomačka River Canyon and Jerma River Canyon, 30-31.10.2021

Jerma Canyon - We Still Don’t Know What Awaits Us

For quite some time, I’ve been planning to visit the Jerma Canyon (it’s tucked in between Stara Planina near Pirot and Vlasina Lake) in southeastern Serbia.
The plan was straightforward:

• Friday: Travel in the afternoon from Novi Sad to Pirot, sleep there.
• Saturday: Breakfast, prep for a bike ride on the route Pirot-Sukovo-Zvonce-Babušnica-Pirot (~85 km, ~1000 m elevation), then lunch and explore some more if we have time.
• Sunday: Breakfast, pack up, drive to the village of Slavinja, hike to the Rosomačka River Canyon, and then check out the Visočica River Canyon from Temska to Topli Do. Along the way, visit the Bukovački Do and Bigar waterfalls, then head back to Novi Sad.

That was the idea, at least. But come Friday, 29 October 2021, I decide to change things up and tackle Jerma Canyon this weekend, even if we can only do a shorter version. Whatever we manage to explore—great! The weather forecast was on our side: clear, sunny, a little chilly, but nothing we can’t handle with the right gear.

I knew we couldn’t leave on Friday but would have to wait until Saturday after Nikola’s English class, which I thought ended at 9:30 AM, but as it turns out, we couldn’t leave before 11 AM. Ooof, that threw a wrench in our plan, so I changed it:

• Saturday: Rosomačka River Canyon hike
• Sunday: Jerma Canyon bike ride.

We ended up leaving around 11:30 AM, which is, to say the least, late. We had about a five-and-a-half-hour drive ahead to the Rosomačka River. According to Google, we should arrive around 5 PM—just 25 minutes before sunset. Tight.

On our way to the toll plaza towards Belgrade, traffic was a nightmare. They’d closed 2 of the 3 lanes, so we lost about 20 minutes in the chaos of “toll-gate limbo.” Things weren’t looking good.

Belgrade traffic, as always, didn’t disappoint. Google kindly informed us that the road ahead was completely blocked—an hour-plus wait. Forget about making it in daylight to see Rosomačka. Change of plans: take the bypass!

That worked. Smooth sailing from then on.

As we got off the highway and headed towards the canyon, the scenery was stunning. It looked like the forest was on fire with vibrant colors—from green (the last of the green leaves) to a dazzling yellow against the blue sky, and finally red, in every possible shade. Too bad we didn’t stop to take photos, but we were focused on reaching our destination before dark.

We arrived at the village of Slavinja, just at the start of the hiking trail to the canyon, about 45 minutes before sunset.

Perfect!

The trail to the canyon is easy, about 1 km long. We walked up gently, and then the cliffs of the canyon appeared, almost surreal.

Rosomačka River Canyon - The Slavinja Pots

 Of course, we snapped photos from every angle.

Mission accomplished!

After exploring the area, we slowly strolled back to the car, and just as we reached it, the sun set behind the horizon.

The drive back to Pirot was winding and bumpy. We arrived at our accommodation in Pirot.

Dinner was better than expected—local specialties.

We agreed to set off early the next day so we could explore more after the ride. After dinner, I put on my cycling gear and went with Laki to find some “peglane kobasice” (for the uninitiated: a local delicacy).

Boem Restaurant - The Only Place with Peglane Kobasice during this time of the year

From above, it looks slightly squashed

 But from the side, you can see it’s seriously flattened—almost like it was run over!

We’d already done our research on where to find the sausages, so there wasn’t any real suspense here. I mainly wanted to test out what to wear for the next day’s ride. When we set out on "Operation Sausage," it was around 8°C, and by the time we returned, my Garmin showed 7°C—perfect for the outfit I had on.

Jutro... 

7h.. 

Morning...

7 AM... I peek outside, and it’s 1°C. Way colder than expected.

I put on the same gear from last night. Off we go for breakfast at a bakery around the corner.

It’s seriously cold, so I grabbed a thick sweatshirt from the car just to survive the walk to the bakery and back. I told the group we shouldn’t rush—it’ll warm up a bit later.

That’s exactly what we did.

We left around 9 AM, with my son Nikola, his best friend Laki, and I. The temperature? A chilly 6°C in the sun (much lower in the shade). As soon as we left Pirot, the wind decided to greet us with a good, icy slap to the face. Delightful.

The first 10 km were, to put it mildly, boring. We pedaled along a seemingly flat road, though we were gradually climbing about 50 meters over that stretch.

The Team’s All Here

In the distance, hills on both sides, but we’re still on flat terrain.

Reminds me of Vojvodina....

We reached the village of Belo Polje, where we finally turned right towards the Jerma River Canyon.

Mountains at last!

The wind had been the real nuisance ever since we left Pirot, blowing at us from about the 10 or 11 o’clock direction, but we were managing somehow. I kept hoping that once we finally made that right turn (after those 10 kilometers), the wind would start blowing at our backs and actually help us out a bit.

No chance!

We made the right turn, and the wind was still hitting us straight in the face.

How? Don’t ask!

We rode left, right, up, down, twisting and turning, but that wind kept blowing in our faces, showing no mercy...

Despite everything—the wind, the gentle incline (1-3%), and all the other annoyances—we kept a solid pace. Soon after the turn, the climb got a bit steeper, but at least we left behind the depressing flatlands. Now, we were surrounded by mountains on all sides, following the Jerma River, with views that felt almost unreal. The combination of perfect weather (clear skies, not a cloud in sight) and the stunning autumn colors was absolutely breathtaking.

First Signs of Mountains

We kept stopping for photos every now and then. I took quite a few while riding without stopping, but even so, our pace wasn’t what it should've been.

The Jerma River, completely pristine, untouched nature.

We still had no idea what was in store for us... The autumn colors were stunning.

Quick Photo Break

After a short break, we continued on, crossing the Jerma, and before us appeared a mini valley and a small village perched on a slope, with what looked like the Dolomites—THE REAL DEAL—towering above.

Dolomites, for sure... but we were still in Serbia (something didn’t add up ;) ).

     

We pedaled slowly, and I snapped photos while riding.

This is a view the Dolomites would be proud of. Honestly, if someone had blindfolded me and dropped me here from a helicopter, without telling me where I was, I would have bet my life I was in the Dolomites. The last place I’d guess is Serbia.

From that moment, the canyon started, and it’s only when you get up close that you realize just how unbelievable it is. There’s a narrow vertical crack in this massive rock formation, which had us mesmerized as we rode past. The river had carved it, as if someone had taken a giant saw and sliced a chunk out of the mountain. To allow a road to pass through this narrow gorge, they built a tunnel. The asphalt was perfect—actually, from Pirot all the way to the first tunnel, the road was in great shape. We arrived at the gorge, where the crack through which the Jerma flows is quite narrow and really tall (the cliffs are over 150 meters high).

Just before entering the tunnel, the beautiful asphalt turned into a disaster. I thought to myself, “Well, it was nice while it lasted…”

I love these tunnels—they look like something from the Stone Age, totally raw.

The road was literally carved into the rock, unbelievable... I’ve always been fascinated by how people in the past decided to build roads in places like this (back when they didn’t have computers, AutoCAD, or 3D models of mountains). Yet, these roads still turn out to be incredible.

Most modern mountain roads are just paved-over old paths (gravel roads, dirt tracks, footpaths, and wagon trails) that people used for centuries. But here, nobody could have possibly passed before. The cliffs were simply too harsh and inaccessible. Someone had intentionally carved this road, and I’m sure there wasn’t any road here before (at least not through these cliffs).

After just 200-300 meters of bad road near the first tunnel, it suddenly transformed back into a brand-new, perfect road. We continued, enjoying both the scenery and the smooth pavement.

A Road Carved Into the Cliffside

The Jerma River foamed in places, but overall, it wasn’t a wild river—at least not at the end of October (who knows what it’s like in April when the snow melts—WE’LL FIND OUT!!!).

These Tunnels Look Like They Were Dug About 200 Years Ago

The cliffs were at least 150 meters high.

We passed through this amazing narrowing in the canyon, and the mountains opened up again, giving us a little room to breathe. Just a kilometer or two after the narrowing, we came upon the Poganovo Monastery. The sight was once again surreal, perhaps even more stunning: the monastery, with an incredible cliff rising behind it.

The Jerma Canyon hides some unbelievable sights…

The Poganovo Monastery with an Astonishing Backdrop

Behind the monastery was yet another gorge, another narrowing, maybe even more beautiful than the first one.

We passed the monastery and approached the next narrowing.

 

Up to the monastery, the road was good, but then it suddenly turned into a disaster. The nice road was built by Vule (this year, I think—that’s how I learned about this gem of nature, of course, they boasted about it on TV, showing off the roads they were building, explaining where and how), probably very recently. Then, just as abruptly, we transitioned to a road built by Tile… Thank goodness Maria Theresa didn’t rule here, or we might have stumbled onto remnants of roads from her time...

We reached the narrowing, and the cliffs loomed, awe-inspiring.

Just like with the first narrowing, the road was literally carved into the rock.

 

Unlike the first narrowing, though, after the second one, the canyon continued, the cliffs were tall, and we rode alongside the Jerma River the whole time.

Autumn colors attacking from all sides

We reached the village of Trnski Odorovci. Above the village stood a massive rock formation, with shapes that defied logic.

The massive formation above Trnski Odorovci

The massive formation above Trnski Odorovci (from distance)

After passing through Trnski Odorovci, the road started to climb seriously (a 10-11% grade, our first real climb of the day). We climbed slowly, but I had to stop a few times to snap some pictures of the surrounding mountains—I just couldn’t resist.

We reached a sharp right turn, and suddenly, the slope eased. We turned the corner, and it felt like we had entered a completely different country. The scenery changed dramatically—no more "Dolomites effect." We kept climbing, but now the incline was much gentler, and soon we reached the village of Zvonce. Right at the entrance to the village, there was not just a small shop, but a micro shop. Some old lady was selling general goods. We refilled our water bottles, had a quick soda, and rested a bit (whoever needed it). I asked her how far it was to Babušnica. 

 

She said, "About 25-30 km."

"Okay," I replied, "and what’s the road like?"

She said, "Like this... if not worse!"

I thought to myself, How can it possibly get worse than this?!?!

We agreed to climb to the village of Preseka, and from there we’d decide whether to continue towards Babušnica as originally planned or head back the way we came.

We kept riding. We were at about 600 meters above sea level (Zvonce), and we had another 250 meters to climb up to the village of Preseka—the highest point of the day. The road was just as bad, though in some places it looked like someone had attempted to fix it 30+ years ago. It was a little smoother in those spots, but still, overall, it was rough.

One last reminder of the "Dolomites effect" before Zvonce

We kept going, but the cliffs were gone, the rocks were gone. Now it was just hills covered with dense, colorful forests.

The highest point of today’s ride—Village of Preseka

We arrived in Preseka, the highest point of today’s ride. My Garmin showed 851 meters above sea level. For the last 10 km, I had been debating whether to stick to the plan (continuing to Babušnica and then to Pirot) or return the way we came.

At a fork in the road, near a house, I asked the homeowner, "How far is it to Babušnica?"

He said, "About 21 km."

"Okay," I said, "and what’s the road like to Babušnica?"

He replied, "No better, no worse than what you’ve had so far."

"Alright," I said, and he added, "It’s all downhill to Babušnica."

I was a bit suspicious of this because the map showed constant ups and downs to Babušnica, but I figured the general trend was downhill.

As we said goodbye, the man mentioned that they were supposed to build a new road along the entire route (great! That means we’ll definitely be back here someday...). Until then, though, the road was a disaster—bumpy, full of holes and patches, completely rough.

I was really torn about what to do... If we continued as planned, we’d have 4-5 more climbs (some small, some bigger) and another 45 km. I estimated it would take us at least 2.5 hours. If we went back the way we came, it would take us at most 1.5 hours.

Considering I still had other things on the agenda for the day, I decided we’d head back. While waiting for Nikola to reach the top, I rode about 300-400 meters towards Babušnica to see what the road was like. It seemed solid, so maybe the homeowner was wrong (which was really strange and unusual)...

I got back to the top, and Nikola and Laki were waiting. I shared my dilemma, and we discussed what would be the best option.

Then, the old lady from the house we were standing in front of appeared and offered us some rakija (brandy).

I said, "Thanks, but we don’t drink."

She replied, "It’s my duty to offer you a drink."

I said, "Much appreciated," and thanked her as if we’d had a sip.

I asked her, "We’re thinking of whether to go back... How’s the road to Babušnica? Is it really all downhill, or are there some ups and downs?"

She said, "Downh... well, yeah, there are some ups and downs, but it’s not too bad..."

I replied, "Okay, and what’s the road like?"

The old lady said, "Oh, the road’s fine."

She insisted that we should continue to Babušnica and see that part because we hadn’t been through there yet.

She had a point, I thought to myself.

Okay, the old lady tipped the scales in favor of heading to Babušnica and making it a loop. We started descending, and for the first 500-600 meters, the road was actually good. But then, suddenly, it turned into a disaster again—craters everywhere.

It seemed like the old lady hadn’t traveled towards Babušnica since Tile passed away... or maybe even a few years before that...

We stopped, and I said, "What now?"

Should we turn back?

We immediately decided to head back. I thought to myself, "Old lady—goodbye and take care, we’re going back!"

I shared my thoughts aloud, and we agreed to return the same way we came. The loop ride was no longer a loop...

End of the good road, back to the bad road (but the autumn colors were stunning)

 

We slowly made our way back uphill. Thankfully, the old lady wasn’t around anymore—I had no idea what I would say to her if she had appeared again. We started the descent, riding carefully because the road was bumpy and full of potholes, but we still managed to maintain a decent speed.

Dolomites effect, once again! :)

 

The return trip was easy, mostly downhill, with varying degrees of slope.

 

Crossing the Jerma one last time today

The wind remained a mystery all day. It kept blowing in our faces, no matter which direction we rode. But it didn’t matter—we sped down to that annoying flat stretch, and for the first time since morning, the wind was finally at our backs. We rode towards Pirot at 35-38 km/h, with a slight downhill and the wind pushing us forward—we were flying!

In Pirot, Mira was waiting for us. She had done her homework and found an excellent (actually perfect) pizzeria that was open (apparently, everything else in Pirot was closed, according to her). We ordered pizzas and quickly changed. Just as we finished changing, the pizzas arrived... And let me tell you, we were seriously hungry by then...

Pizza Paradiso (Pizzeria Paradiso) from a wood-fired oven—perfect, and we were starving

After pizza, we had a couple of hours left before sunset (thanks to heading back the same way), so we planned to check out at least part of the Visočica Canyon and definitely the Bigar waterfall.

The Visočica Canyon is interesting—not nearly as impressive as Jerma, but it has its bright spots (like the “Minecraft cliff”—I called it that because the entire cliff is made of square rocks, it really does look like something out of Minecraft). We drove 3-4 km to see if it was worth exploring the entire canyon next time.

We decided we definitely had to come back and see it all. We made a short stop at the Bukovački Do waterfall (right by the road).

A small watermill in the Visočica Canyon

We continued towards Svrljig and stopped at the Bigar waterfall, which, at this time of year, was almost dry, with barely a trickle of water.

Bigar Waterfall

We paused for a quick photo. The temperature was 6°C, chilly. We had about 15-20 minutes until sunset. We hopped in the car and slowly made our way back to Novi Sad.

What can I say after all that? Stara Planina exceeded all my expectations—absolutely incredible. The autumn colors were PHENOMENAL, as they are every year, for about another 10 days, and then some strong winds will blow the leaves off the trees, and it will all be different.

We’ll definitely be back, maybe as soon as spring (April) to see how it looks when the young leaves sprout and all the rivers swell.

Until the next ride,
D.