Day 84 - August 4th: Highlands
Florina (-12 km) to Ag. Spiridon: 31 miles / 2,403 total
Yesterday’s border crossing and mountain push ended 12 km short of Florina, where I picked up the next morning. Christina got me back just in time for a massage at 5:30 pm, followed by dinner at 7:30. We had our first official Greek meal—phyllo-wrapped feta with honey, grilled mushrooms, and meat-filled ravioli. Afterwards, a quick stop for ice cream and baklava. Florina’s main drag was alive: kids running everywhere, teens dressed to impress, adults sipping coffee and chain-smoking. Back at the hotel by 9. Shower. Hacked out a blog entry. Out. It was too compressed for comfort.
At 5 am, it was pitch black. Odd. Then it hit me—we’d lost an hour not just to the massage, but to the new time zone. The pace of the run has been relentless, and I’m definitely starting to miss things.
Two big logistical issues: Greece is sparse on infrastructure. Over 50 km yesterday there was just one open restaurant, and lodging that accepts dogs is rare. Christina ended up finding one up in Agios Athanasios. The next 9 days will be tough. Then there’s the Turkey issue and I’m not referring to Thanksgiving. Istanbul is 250 km from the Greek border. I’m seriously considering doing it solo with just a hydration pack—no support. But I’ll need to map every food stop and bed to make sure it is possible and safe.
Jax and I started the day with a glorious 12 km descent back into Florina, then joined Christina for breakfast. We met a runner named Dimitri—strong, lean, and 57 years old—who said her secret was “simple: good diet and exercise.” I know it!
From there, I ran through a wide valley between two ranges. The one I crossed yesterday to the west; a new one ahead to the east. Farm roads took me past fields of sunflowers, hay, and corn. At one farm, a big white dog started growling, and barking at me. I noticed that she had just had pups so I didn’t go close but she came at me. Soon three more big dogs came over. I tried to run but they really came at me so all I could do was stare them down, pointing at them and snarling myself which made them back off until a hundred meters later I was out of their zone.
At 32 km, Christina and Jax caught up. She found a Lidl—first in a while—and resupplied us. She hadn’t found a room yet, but was checking Agios Athanasios and Edessa further east.
From there, I began the next climb—2,000 feet up at an 8% grade. Looking back, I saw yesterday’s route from the Albanian border and appreciated just how far we’d come.
At the top, I reached the village of Kella, a place with deep mining roots. This region was known for its lignite and other mineral extractions, dating back to the early 20th century. Rusting smelter chimneys and mine shafts still dot the hillsides—a bit like a mini Leadville, Colorado. Greece, like Albania, has long exploited its mountainous interior for natural resources.
From Kella, I began a descent into a dramatic landscape. Giant chasms cut through the hillside—snowmelt channels feeding Limni Petron, a vivid green-turquoise lake.
The land opened again and soon I passed a goat herder and a 100-strong herd running full tilt across the plain.
His shack was perched near the gap I followed through to the next pass.
Just before the final descent, a sign marked the archaeological network of the Pella district—once the heart of ancient Macedon. This region was the birthplace of Alexander the Great and home to one of the grandest cities of its time. The ruins of Pella include the remains of a sprawling royal palace, temples, and intricate pebble mosaics dating to the 4th century BC. Nearby, in Vergina, archaeologists uncovered royal tombs believed to belong to Alexander’s father, Philip II, filled with gold, weaponry, and some of the best-preserved frescoes from antiquity. Scattered throughout the district are sanctuaries, marketplaces, and everyday artifacts that paint a vivid picture of Macedonian life at the peak of its influence.
Descending was brutal. A 10% grade—absolutely cruel with dead legs. A man in his car offered me a lift down the mountain, warning me of bear sightings. I declined. Oddly, the adrenaline cleared the fatigue and I pushed downhill quickly, kind of hoping I’d see a bear after all.
At exactly 50k, Christina and Jax pulled up—perfect timing. She’d secured a room 15k further up in a tiny mountain village. Once again, we lucked out.
Thanks for following along and for all the support.
Cheers,
David.
