September 19th – Peak 4: Mytikas, Mount Olympus
In the weeks leading up to Mount Olympus, around 11 people had originally planned to join us. But as we finalised the logistics and took a closer look at the route, it became clear that the legendary home of the Greek gods would present a more technical challenge than many of us had first imagined.
By the time Friday, September 18th arrived, our final team of seven was ready. With early alarms, packed rucksacks and a mixture of excitement and nerves, we began making our way out of Sofia towards our traditional first meeting point: the Shell garage.
I had one additional stop to make first—Sofia Airport, where our Ingram Micro Turkey colleague Berk was arriving from Istanbul, ready to become the newest member of our 56 Peaks community.
Our Shell stop has been a tradition since the earliest days of the challenge. Good coffee, reliable toilets and a chance to reconnect with fellow climbers: perhaps not the most glamorous start to a mountain adventure, but an essential part of ours!
This time, there was another new face around the coffee cups: Sergei, whose journey to Olympus had begun almost a year earlier.
At the Evening of the Virtues, the annual fundraising event organised by the For Our Children Foundation, Sergei had placed the winning bid of 13,000 leva to join us on this climb. What followed was more than ten months of dedicated training as he worked towards a very personal goal: getting fitter and reaching the summit of one of Europe’s most iconic mountains.
Now, the weekend he had been preparing for was finally here.
The drive to Greece took more than five hours. From our parking point, we shouldered our rucksacks and began the long uphill walk towards the mountain hut that would be our home for the night.
The ascent was steep, and progress was steady rather than speedy as we wound our way through the trees. Although the main summer season was behind us, Olympus was still drawing plenty of visitors, and we met fellow climbers along the trail.
After more than four hours of climbing, the hut was a very welcome sight.
There were beds, a busy canteen and, most importantly, a proper meal. The spaghetti Bolognese quickly became a firm favourite, although Sergei had brought something a little more unusual to the mountain menu: moose sausage!
Our seven shared a room with three fellow climbers from Israel. Between the bunk beds, warm bodies and well-used hiking kit, the room had that unmistakable mountain-hut atmosphere. Add a little nervous anticipation, and all the ingredients were there for a memorable—if not particularly luxurious—night.
With alarms set for 5:30 AM, we settled down. The next morning, the real test would begin.
We were up early, ready for breakfast at 6:00 AM and keen to make progress before the heat of the day.
For the first stretch, our headtorches picked out the trail as we climbed into the morning darkness. Then, gradually, the landscape began to reveal itself.
Behind us lay the Aegean Sea. Ahead, the mountain rose into a cloudless sky. As the sun appeared over the horizon, we paused to take in a view that felt entirely worthy of the Greek gods themselves.
These are the moments that make the early alarms worthwhile.
With the sun on our backs, we continued upwards. The trees were now far below us, the terrain increasingly rocky, and our goal was coming into view.
So, too, was the section we had spent the previous weeks thinking about.
We knew that the final approach to Mytikas would be the most demanding part of the climb. We had watched the videos and listened to accounts from people who had reached the summit—and others who had decided to turn back.
But seeing a route on a screen is very different from standing at the start of it.
Before we began, Sergei and I paused for a photograph. Looking back, it captures the moment perfectly: two people determined to continue, with a fair amount of uncertainty about what lay ahead.
The photographs that followed cannot fully convey the experience.
There were hands gripping rough rock, feet searching carefully for secure footholds and moments when the most practical way down a section was on our backsides. With steep drops below us, every movement demanded attention.
And yes, there were a few very honest exchanges along the lines of:
“How on earth do I get up—or down—from here?”
The exposed scrambling took more than 90 minutes in each direction. It tested our confidence as much as our strength, and it gave us a healthy respect for this mountain. Turning back would have been a valid decision at any stage; reaching the summit was only ever half the task.
Seven climbers, one unforgettable summit
When we finally reached the top, my first feeling was relief.
There was space to pause, catch our breath and begin to take in what we had just done. Then the smiles appeared, and relief gradually gave way to pride.
One of the most special moments was watching Sergei take those final steps towards the summit flagpole.
Almost a year earlier, he had raised his hand at a charity auction. Now, after months of preparation, he was standing on the highest summit in Greece, almost 3,000 metres above sea level.
By his own admission, it was one of the greatest physical achievements of his life. Sharing that moment with him gave our fourth peak a significance that went far beyond the climb itself.
At the summit, we also found a visitors’ book and proudly added our names under the Balkan 6 Peaks Challenge banner—a small record of a very big day.
Of course, there was time for photographs too: tired faces, broad smiles and views that none of us will forget.
The summit celebrations were tempered by the knowledge that we still had to negotiate the same challenging terrain on the way down. Only once the technical section was behind us could we begin to relax and look forward to a meal and a drink at the hut.
Back around the table, the atmosphere was a mixture of congratulations, tired laughter and quiet satisfaction.
Our final two adventures will take us to North Macedonia and Romania in summer 2027. In the meantime, we plan to keep moving, with training climbs on Cherni Vrah and in the Pirin and Rila mountains over the next 9 months.
If you or a friend would like to get involved, we would love to welcome new climbers into our community. Please contact me by email, or via Viber or WhatsApp on +359 882 900 882, to find out more.
And if you would prefer to support us from a little closer to sea level, a donation of any size will help us continue raising funds for the For Our Children Foundation, supporting vulnerable children and families across Bulgaria.
👉 Donate to the Balkan 6 Peaks Challenge
Another mountain climbed, another story shared, and another reminder of what we can achieve together.
Four peaks behind us. Two ahead. The mission continues—and so do we!