I came across a text I wrote in November 2025. Since the milestone tenth Highlander Velebit recently concluded, it is a fitting opportunity to look back on "my trail."
It has been nearly two months since my adventure—plenty of time for the impressions to settle. I had a wonderful time and would recommend Highlander Velebit to anyone. I really like the format. We were provided with food and drink, and at night, we felt safe within the pack and among the many tents. We socialized around the campfire in the evenings and hiked along the GPX track from one checkpoint to the next during the day—often alone. That is precisely what I loved so much: you are on your own, yet not truly alone. Someone would always come along, or you would catch up with someone else. About two hundred of us set out from Zavižan. You might think that’s a lot and that the trail would be crowded, but it wasn't; we spread out well.
Day one: Zavižan to Skorpovac, 34 km, following the Premužić Trail the entire way. I definitely had too much weight in my backpack—around 17 kg. The recommendation is to keep it to 20% of your body weight, but I didn't manage to fit everything within those limits. It seemed silly to buy a new, lighter, and more compact sleeping bag when I already have three at home. It seemed even sillier to buy a new backpack when the one I have isn't even two years old and I’d only taken it hiking three times... The self-inflating sleeping pad was a great choice and provided excellent support at night; I’m glad I didn't sacrifice it just to have a slightly lighter pack. I ended up using almost everything I brought. I had hoped I wouldn't even need to take my raincoat and rain pants out of the pack, but that wasn't the case, as it rained on the third day—following us for a good stretch of the way from Baške Oštarije to Panos. Still, I was too lazy to actually put on the rain pants. Fortunately, aside from those, I didn't need to use the elastic bandage or the knee brace. I did go through a lot of blister plasters, though, and returned home with two huge blisters—one on the ball of each foot. It wasn't until the trip back that I learned anti-blister sprays exist. I don't usually have trouble with blisters, but then again, I’d never hiked for several consecutive days before, let alone covered a hundred kilometers. Anyway, next time I’ll know better. Wet hiking boots likely contributed to the blisters, too.
I am proud because at no point did I think about giving up, and because I enjoyed two-thirds of the journey (during the other third, I was "battling" my backpack because my shoulders were killing me). I had attributed that to the pack being too heavy. It turned out I hadn't adjusted it properly. I learned how to do it right on the last day, not far from the finish line in Starigrad. Luckily, I did 😉 The saying "you learn as long as you live" always holds true. I realized that I could manage without much water or food, that I didn't need to use the restroom at night, that I wasn't afraid to hike alone for hours, that following the Garmin track wasn't that hard, that I enjoyed chatting with people before continuing on my own path at my own pace, that people are generally kind and willing to help, that Croatia is beautiful, that rain intensifies scents, that God is always there watching over me, that I’ve fallen in love with the Highlander experience, and that I’m already planning a new adventure.
I signed up for this adventure at the urging of a hiking guide I had just met, after he saw how passionately I spoke about the event and how much I had wanted to do it since it first appeared in Croatia in 2016. I paid the entry fee as a gift to myself for a milestone birthday. I suppose it’s that midlife crisis thing. Some people find a younger partner, some buy a motorcycle, some take up running, and others head off into the mountains.
The first day was demanding due to the distance, the rocky trail, and my lack of familiarity with the route. I had seen in the guidebook for the Velebit Hiking Trail (VPP) that it involved six hours of walking followed by another eight. The VPP only partially overlaps with the Highlander route and the Premužić Trail (or vice versa). I figured it would take less than 14 hours, but I had no idea exactly how long. It took me about 11 hours.
We were told that Day 2 would be an easy one, covering only 14 km. Rain was brewing, so the organizers urged us to get moving. I arrived at Baške Oštarije early enough to pitch my tent on a small patch of grass above the hostel—on a slight slope beneath the sparse branches of a scraggly tree. As it turned out, this was enough to keep my gear safe and the tent dry during a heavy downpour. In contrast, a group that arrived later and pitched their tents on the meadow below the road saw their tents swept away by a torrent of water, forcing them to search for their belongings in the middle of the night amidst a newly formed pool. Many gave up because of this.
I had heard that Day 3—the stretch from Baške Oštarije to Panos—was the hardest due to the significant elevation gain. Since I had prepared for it, it wasn't all that difficult.
For me, the worst part was Day 4—the Panos to Veliko Rujno stretch—because I’d been told it would be a "piece of cake." I learned that expectations can be a nasty thing. Since I was expecting an easy walk, I was nearly defeated by the massive boulders and the narrow path at the start of the trail—not to mention the simple fact that it was already our fourth day. However, the meadows before Veliko Rujno took me by surprise. I had been so worried about cows, horses, and guard dogs that I’d even brought along pepper spray. Fortunately, I passed through there around 2 PM. I heard bells, but I didn't actually encounter any animals. Although I had planned to cross that section with others, I ended up doing it alone. And I wasn't afraid. That was, in a way, the best part. I later found out that horses had approached hikers passing through the meadows later in the day, "begging" for treats and following them for a while. Regardless, I’m glad I missed that experience.
On the final day—from Rujno and Paklenica to the finish line on the beach in Starigrad—we were largely swept up in the euphoria of realizing that "we can do this" and "we actually did it."
I didn’t ask how many of us reached the finish line. I didn’t look for official figures, but the organizers mentioned in casual conversation that about 50% drop out—most of them at B. Oštarije, as that’s the breaking point.
Do I have any regrets? Perhaps not going to the abandoned military facility on Panos to watch the sunset—the views looked stunning in the videos and photos I saw on social media. I had already changed my footwear and treated my blisters, and the thought of putting my wet hiking boots back on—and then repeating the whole process upon my return—was simply unthinkable. That is something I’ve saved for next time.
