Journey to the Mountains of Georgia — a Girls’ Adventure

Journey to the Mountains of Georgia — a Girls’ Adventure

There are moments when you simply feel — life is calling you elsewhere. Not to escape, but to breathe. I packed my bag, left the routine behind, and went to the Georgian mountains — a world where silence speaks louder than words.

We were seven women — each with her own rhythm, her own fatigue, and a desire to find balance between strength and softness. The path led through villages where time stands still, and across valleys where the mist hides everything unnecessary.

We weren’t looking for adventure. We were looking for breath. And the mountains accepted us just as we were — tired, curious, alive.

Before the Journey – Preparation and Gear

The preparation didn’t start with buying a ticket but with the feeling that this trip was already waiting for me. I heard about the hike by chance — a friend mentioned a woman named Svetlana Guseva, who lives in Georgia and leads mountain hikes. That one sentence had everything — the direction I was missing and the person who opened it for me.

From that moment, everything started moving at a different rhythm. I began training my legs at the gym, staring at the wall and thinking about the real slopes waiting for me. Every step on the treadmill was a promise to myself — that this time, I’d go all the way, both physically and internally.

And then came the gear — the silent companion on every journey. The Georgian mountains in autumn are capricious: one day it’s sunny, the next it’s snowing. So I chose layering — the freedom to adapt. My main support was the FHM Pharos women’s membrane jacket — light, breathable, and reliable like a friend who never lets you down, even when the rain turns to snow. On the first day, when the thermometer showed –2 and the sky wouldn’t stop crying, it was this jacket that protected me.

Beneath the jacket was a whole layer of stories — each fabric with its own purpose. The Humtto quick-drying T-shirts with UPF 50 protection breathed with me — they didn’t absorb moisture and cooled down just when needed. Over them, a thin Humtto fleece jumper with a collar, and another, warmer one — Humtto fleece jacket with zipper — like a safety net for colder moments. Between them I added a padded vest — light as a breath but strong enough to hold warmth when the mountain wind turned sharp.

On my legs — Humtto softshell hiking pants, which endured both rain and wind without losing flexibility. They moved with me through damp meadows, over rocks, between turns veiled in fog.

And then — my saviors: Humtto hiking boots with eVent membrane and SpinOn closure. They were like loyal companions who never fail. No blisters, no wet socks — just dry warmth and the feeling that you know exactly where your next step will land.

On my back — a Fjord Nansen ultralight 20L backpack — light as a feather, with enough room for water, snacks, and extra layers. On my head — a merino wool headband that kept me warm and wicked away sweat. On my feet — Fjord Nansen merino-kevlar hiking socks and in my backpack, a spare pair of Thermowave Performance Discover merino wool socks. Those were my “wow effect” — no blisters, no swelling, no rubbing, only comfort.

Day 1 — The Road to Gergeti

The first morning smelled like mountains and unfulfilled promises. Our path led upwards — to the Gergeti Trinity Church, standing guard at 2,170 meters above Stepantsminda. It’s not just a place, it’s a feeling — the breath of Georgian faith and strength whispering among the rocks and clouds.

We climbed the rocky trail for two hours, sometimes in silence, sometimes laughing. Each step made the world feel bigger. The weather wasn’t kind — it rained, temperatures dropped to zero, and the mountain peaks were wrapped in thick fog. But we didn’t give up, soaked and freezing, we made our way up (2,170 m).

In the evening, tired and cold but proud of our inner strength — for not giving up to the rain and harsh weather — we enjoyed warm dinner and raised our glasses of wine. Not to celebrate, but to give thanks. For the day, for the mountains, for being there.

Day 2 — Juta Valley and Chaukhi Range

The morning came with mountain silence — the kind you hear only when there’s nothing left to prove. We set off toward Juta Valley, a trail that slowly climbed to the foot of the Chaukhi mountains. Three and a half hours upward — through gorges, across streams, into air that grew thinner and clearer with every step.

It had snowed the night before. As we climbed higher, a white world opened before us — silent and pure like a blank page.

The sun warmed our faces, but snow crunched beneath our feet. With every step, the air became thinner. My breath caught from the beauty and majesty of the mountains — you feel so small in that untouched stillness.

Our goal was a crystal-clear mountain lake at 2,500 meters above sea level.

When we reached it, we treated ourselves to a small picnic to recharge for the way back.

That day I realized how much the right gear matters. The mountains forgive a lot — but not carelessness. The right footwear and proper layering protected me from cold, sweat, and dampness. I was warm, dry, and comfortable — and at that moment, those boots felt more valuable than any luxury item in the world.

Day 3 — Truso Valley

On the third day, we went on a 14-kilometer hike through the Truso Valley — a place that seems unreal until you stand there yourself. The trail wound along a river, between two massive mountain ranges, through villages where smoke still rose from chimneys, and past sulfur springs that colored the earth orange and white.

The sun warmed our shoulders, the thermometer showed +7, and there was such peace in the air that we wanted to walk slower. Sometimes we just stopped — to listen to the wind or watch butterflies reminding us of spring. Three days, three seasons, three breathtaking hikes.

Laughter echoed through the valley, bouncing off the rocks and returning as an echo. That’s when I realized — this wasn’t just a hike; it was a shared rhythm. We were all breathing in the same tempo.

And all along, mountain dogs walked with us — big, calm, and inexplicably peaceful. They didn’t run ahead; they simply walked beside us, as if guarding. Like Georgia itself — strong, kind, and always close.

Day 4 — Art Ritual at Kojori Fortress

On the fourth day, our path led to Kojori Fortress — up a mountain overlooking the entire Tbilisi valley. The air there felt different, almost ceremonial. The mountains didn’t just stand — they listened.

The final day’s surprise was a masterclass led by an artist — painting with red wine. Surrounded by the grandeur of mountains and gazing into the distance, we dipped brushes in wine, transferring our emotions and feelings onto white paper. The sun played with droplets on the paper, turning them into tiny gems.

It wasn’t just a creative moment — more like meditation in motion. The scent of wine, the mountain silence, and the feeling that you were no longer just a traveler, but part of this moment. Part of Georgia’s breath.

Lisi Lake and Sulfur Bath

When the mountain hikes were over and our steps had grown tired, we headed to a special ending spot — the sulfur bath by Lisi Lake. It wasn’t just a treatment; it was a ritual for the body and soul.

The steam merged with the air, around us — women’s conversations, light humor, laughter giving sound to the silence.

When it was over, our bodies and minds felt lighter. And I realized — this was the right ceremony, the final step after all those climbs.

Discoveries and Feelings

Looking back, I feel that the mountains of Georgia truly changed me. I overcame rain, fatigue, and that quiet uncertainty that sometimes appears when you’re among strangers. But they were no longer strangers — our group became friends, sisters of the road. We shared tea, laughter, and silence — as meaningful as words.

Every morning we had our small ritual — shared breakfast and a cheerful group photo that gave us energy for another climb. In the evenings, around the dinner table, enjoying delicious meals and sipping wine, we laughed like old friends, reminisced about the day’s adventures, and played quizzes.

Georgia remained in my heart like a breath between the sky and the earth — a place where nature and humans are inseparable. The mountains live at their own pace, and when you start walking in their rhythm, the world becomes larger.

We, the girls, already know — we’ll return. Along a different route, in a different season, but with the same feeling. In Georgia, paths never truly end; they just keep leading you forward.

And yes — after this trip, I definitely came back with new experiences I can’t wait to share with everyone who visits our cozy Outfish store. Because now I know: good mountain gear isn’t a luxury. It’s freedom — the ability to keep going when the world turns beautiful just beyond the next bend.

If you also dream of a similar hike in Georgia, write to us — we’ll help you choose the right gear and share the contact of the amazing guide mytravel.georgia (Svetlana Guseva), who will make your journey unforgettable.