The Seven Rila Lakes

A strong gust of wind hits me as I reach the viewpoint, revealing a breathtaking panorama of all seven Rila Lakes. While Rila Mountain is renowned for its glacial lakes, the 7 Rila Lakes trail has become the most popular. Just a couple of weeks ago, I accomplished my goal of experiencing them all.

My first attempt at this hike was 15 years ago when I returned to Bulgaria and sought an adventure with my sister. Without a car, we navigated our way from Sofia to a rented chalet via three or four different buses. Our plan was to drop off our bags and take the newly constructed lift to the trailhead.

However, I had not anticipated that the lift's accessibility in 2009 would attract a larger crowd. The line for the lift extended well beyond the parking area, and with a 15-minute ride, progress was slow.

At that moment, I had another idea: instead of taking the lift, my sister and I could hike up the old-fashioned way. By the time we reached the trail, it was late afternoon. Not wanting to descend in darkness, we made it only to the fourth lake before deciding to turn back, a wise choice as we returned just as the sun set.

Since then, I have longed to revisit the trail. So when a friend invited me on a day trip to the 7 Rila Lakes last month, I eagerly accepted.

This time, we patiently waited in line for the lift, and I’m grateful we did. The ride was serene, offering splendid views of towering conifers, vibrant wildflower fields, and the undulating hills of Rila in the distance.

Upon arriving at the Rila Lakes chalet, positioned right at the trail's beginning, we found ourselves at an elevation of around 2,000 meters (approximately 6,500 feet). Although the temperature was much cooler than the sweltering city, the area was quite sunny, prompting the dog welcoming committee to remain in their shady spot.

After a brief stop at the chalet, we took the right path, ascending the trail counterclockwise. Previously, my sister and I had gone left, which allowed easier access to the lower four lakes. This time, I discovered that the counterclockwise route, although steeper, is recommended for its stunning scenery, providing immediate views of the Lower Lake and beautiful rocky cliffs on our left. I relished the view from above, having seen it up close during my previous visit.

We couldn't resist pausing several times to soak in the vistas—hydrating and reapplying sunscreen—yet we still reached the Kidney Lake in under an hour. This spot was perfect for a well-deserved break and snack, though swimming was prohibited to prevent pollution. Still, many people were seen dipping their feet or rinsing their hands and faces in its waters.

This behavior has raised significant concerns and led to protests regarding the construction of the lift and chalet at the trail's entrance. Access to nature is a privilege, and it's crucial for visitors to learn how to respect these natural wonders to maintain their pristine condition.

The Kidney Lake, named for its shape, has the steepest shores among the lakes, and unlike the others, it isn't easy to walk around entirely. This limitation might be beneficial, as fewer visitors means less pollution. The trail then ascended sharply, taking us along a much windier path, a welcome relief from the summer heat.

The mountain views are something I can never tire of.

After our brief rest at the Kidney, only three of us chose to continue to the highest two lakes, while the other two opted to relax by the waterfalls. I appreciate hiking with individuals who are confident enough to choose their own paths; a lovely day in the mountains doesn't require everyone to do the same thing!

The upper trail is rocky and requires careful footing, but it’s even harder to resist looking up at the stunning blue lakes that motivate us to keep climbing despite the sun's intensity.

We paused to hydrate, reapply sunscreen, and admire The Eye Lake, the deepest of the seven at 37.5 meters (123 feet).

The distance between the lakes is manageable, and we reached The Tear Drop Lake, the highest, with ample time to enjoy the panoramic view of all seven lakes from a nearby overlook.

The wind threatened to snatch my hat, but I managed to keep it on against the sun’s rays. The coolness I felt was a refreshing change after weeks of heat, nearly prompting me to pull out my jacket, which I ultimately didn’t need because I was enjoying the chill.

After reuniting with the rest of our group at the Kidney, we took an easier route down to the lower four lakes. Although this part of the trail was longer, it wasn't steep, and we maintained a comfortable pace, stopping occasionally to appreciate the wildflowers.

Next up was The Twin Lake, the largest by area, named for its two nearly mirror-like sections. During drier periods, it separates into two distinct bodies of water. My sister and I had spent a lot of time here during our last visit, wondering if we could continue to the higher lakes.

Shortly after The Twin, we arrived at The Trefoil Lake, which has the most irregular shape of the seven. Its lower shores are best appreciated from above, and walking by it can be misleading, as it often doesn’t appear to be a lake at all.

Continuing on, we reached The Fish Lake, the shallowest among them. While the rest of the group moved on, I paused to sit for a few minutes, captivated by the unique colors, shapes, and textures surrounding me.

Rejoining my friends, we decided to skip the trek down to the Lower Lake to avoid missing the last lift back, which operates until 6:30 PM. I was content with this decision since I had spent considerable time by that lake during my previous visit. It's also the easiest lake to access, and I already knew I would return.

We stopped at the chalet for refreshments, inhaling the cool mountain air and hoping its freshness would linger long after we returned to the urban heat. I felt exhausted, but it was the satisfying kind of fatigue.

With a final glance around, we boarded the lift for our descent. During the ride, I reflected on the challenge of balancing nature's accessibility with the need for visitors to respect and protect it.

These lakes have existed since the last ice age, for nearly a million years, and I sincerely hope humanity doesn’t spoil them in an instant.

This article is my entry for In Living Color’s July monthly challenge — Water — introduced by Allisonn Church.

July Monthly Challenge: Water

Dripping, flowing, and washing away

Here are a couple of other submissions I enjoyed reading recently, by Lauri Novak and Claire Elizabeth Levesque, respectively: