I left Vuthaj at 7:00 in the morning, and for the first hour it was just me, the trail, and that quiet mountain air that makes you feel awake even before coffee. It took me about one hour on foot to reach Lake of Shtare, and when I got there, the view honestly stopped me for a moment. The lake sits up there like it belongs to another world calm, clear, and surrounded by mountains that make everything feel bigger than you expect.
What made it even more interesting is how close you are to the border with Albania. You feel it in the movement of people on the trail. I met quite a few hikers heading toward Theth, because this route is one of the main paths used by alpinists and long-distance hikers who are either going to Theth or coming from it.
Meeting Hikers on the Way to Theth (and a Warning I Didn’t Ignore)
On the trail, I spoke with a guy named Daniel from the UK. He told me it was his third time doing this route in the last five years, which immediately made me pay attention because when someone repeats a hard route, you know it’s not just “nice scenery.”
He also told me something that stayed in my mind: that the route can be difficult, and that there have been cases where hikers fell and got injured. According to him, there were moments when Montenegro’s rescue services responded quickly and people were even transported by helicopter to the nearest hospital.
I’m not telling that story to scare anyone just to be honest about what the trail can be like. The mountains are beautiful, but they’re still mountains. Listening to Daniel made me more careful with my steps, especially on the rough sections.
From the Lake to Zastan: A 30-Minute Walk Into Old Mountain Life
After enjoying the lake for a bit, I continued on foot and reached Zastan in about 30 minutes. And Zastan felt completely different. The landscape has a quiet “past” to it like you’re walking into a place where people used to live seasonally, not just pass through with backpacks.
This area was once used by families like the Vučetaj and Gjonbalaj to bring their livestock up to the mountains, usually from May until September. You can still see traces of that life. There were old ruined huts (stanë) the kind of remains that make it obvious someone lived and worked there for months at a time, year after year.
A Conversation With Salih Gjonbalaj (and the Numbers That Shocked Me)
In Zastan I met Salih Gjonbalaj. He lives in America now, but he told me he was born in Zastan, and hearing him talk about it felt different than hearing a guide or a tourist. He spoke like someone remembering real life, not just history.
He told me that before the 2000s, this mountain pasture wasn’t quiet at all. He said there were times when they had up to 600 sheep, and around 60 cows and calves up there. When you’re standing in that open space today, it’s hard to imagine it full of animals, noise, and daily work but the way he described it made it easy to picture.
He also pointed out something else: a karaulë (guard post) where the former Yugoslav army once stayed to watch and protect the border area. It’s one of those details that reminds you these mountains weren’t only about nature and shepherding there was also a serious border reality here for a long time.
Why This Morning Stayed With Me
That day wasn’t about checking off tourist spots. It felt like a real mountain morning: a tough but beautiful walk, random conversations with hikers, and then stepping into a place like Zastan where you can still feel the past in the land itself.
Lake of Shtare gave me the view. Zastan gave me the story. And together, they made one of the most memorable mornings I’ve had in Vuthaj