The Tatras are the highest peaks of the Carpathians, and I wouldn’t hesitate to call them the national treasure of Slovakia—though a small part stretches gracefully into Poland. With thirty summits and spires towering above 2,500 meters, these mountains—alpine in character yet modest in size—hold the title of the world’s smallest high mountain range by area.
Each year, I try to carve out a few days—sometimes even a week—to return to their quiet presence. And, of course, my camera is never far behind. This particular collection, which I’ve named Winter, gathers several moments captured over recent years, mostly on film rather than digital. In Slovakia, unlike in Poland, a winter closure is in effect for high mountain trails, so one can only hike as far as the final mountain huts. The highest among them, Téry’s Hut, rests at 2,015 meters. Yet even in the valleys and near the huts, the snow-blanketed landscapes offer breathtaking scenes—especially when everything is wrapped in white silence.

Without snowshoes or alpine skis, venturing off the trampled trail is almost impossible. Any attempt at a more creative composition usually ends with you knee-deep—or worse, waist-deep—in snow. That was my fate one winter climb to Téry’s Hut. Heavy snowfall the day before had buried the trail, and every step was a slow battle through deep drifts. It was one of the most demanding winter hikes I’ve done in the Tatras. Luckily, I had a warm bed waiting at the hut, and time enough to recover…




I usually carry a Mamiya RB67, along with a trio of lenses—50mm, 127mm, and 250mm—and Ilford HP+400 film. As I’ve mentioned in past entries, I rarely bring a tripod; I avoid it when I can. In winter, with clear skies and the help of an orange filter, handheld shots are still very much possible—even with 400-speed film. And the gear is heavy enough on its own. Sure, 100-speed film would give ‘cleaner’ images, smoother tones—but it’s the grain and contrast I’ve come to love in analog photography.

Most of these images were taken in the Malá and Veľká Studená Valleys, where you’ll find the Téry and Zbojnícka mountain huts nestled at their ends. I treasure the atmosphere here, especially outside of weekends, when the crowds thin out and silence becomes something you can almost hear. In summer, chamois graze on the slopes, marmots whistle in the grass, and alpine lakes mirror the sky. In winter, everything lies under snow. Only a narrow path is pressed into the white. And if the night sky is clear, it blazes with millions of stars…





I’ll never forget one evening at the hut—just me and a few mountain porters. The wind howled outside, the fire inside flickered warmly, Pink Floyd played softly in the background… and everything just felt right.
Speaking of porters—these men and women are truly a Tatra legend. All six high-altitude huts in the Slovak Tatras are supplied solely by human power. No cars. No helicopters. Everything is carried up on their backs. It’s a tradition like no other—recognized in 2018 as part of Slovakia’s Intangible Cultural Heritage. They hike year-round, in every kind of weather, each step part of a legacy of strength and silence.





You might wonder how I managed to capture photographs from the summit of Lomnický Peak, despite the winter trail closures. The answer is simple: a cable car leads to the top, where you’ll find an observatory and astronomical station. From there, a breathtaking panorama opens up—Belianske Tatras, the central ridge, and the vast eastern horizon. If you wish, you can even spend the night at the summit. Just be warned—should the weather turn, the cable car may not run, and you could find yourself stranded above the clouds until the storm passes…





Sadly, this winter I wasn’t able to return to the Tatras or capture any new frames—but I hope to make up for it in summer. Because the Tatras are worth visiting in any season, under any sky. I’ll prepare a selection of snow-free photos for the next post. And if anything in this story caught your attention, feel free to leave a comment—I’d be happy to answer if I can.
https://www.lubomirdrapal.com/
instagram
Share this post:
Comments
Matthew Bigwood on The Winter Heart of the Tatras
Comment posted: 13/07/2025
David Hume on The Winter Heart of the Tatras
Comment posted: 13/07/2025
Thomas Wolstenholme on The Winter Heart of the Tatras
Comment posted: 13/07/2025
SteveB on The Winter Heart of the Tatras
Comment posted: 13/07/2025
Simon Foale on The Winter Heart of the Tatras
Comment posted: 13/07/2025
Peter Kornaukhov on The Winter Heart of the Tatras
Comment posted: 13/07/2025
David Pauley on The Winter Heart of the Tatras
Comment posted: 13/07/2025
Thank you for the evocative writing and gorgeous photos. Excepting an 8x10 kit and lenses, the RB is currently the heaviest camera in my arsenal. I have trouble walking around NYC with it -- let alone huffing it to such remote peaks. Kudos to you for doing so and bringing back images of such unspoiled wilderness. If I ever visit Slovokia, I will remember the cable car access to Lomnický Peak...probably the only way my tired bones could make it to such heights! Thanks again.
Art Meripol on The Winter Heart of the Tatras
Comment posted: 13/07/2025
Eagle Omomuro on The Winter Heart of the Tatras
Comment posted: 13/07/2025
Gary Smith on The Winter Heart of the Tatras
Comment posted: 13/07/2025
Lubomir, I don't recall seeing any previous posts but I certainly look forward to your next article!