Perun, God of Lightning

It's been hot in Warsaw, the hottest on record as any can remember. I decided last night, then, that the earliest possible departure was required for Kościuszko and me. Alas, the ancient Slavic god of thunder and lightning--Perun--had other ideas for me and I awoke to a mighty display of his strength.

Warsaw Lightning. Source.

You do know Perun, don't you? He is the Slavic equivalent to Thor and Zeus. Perun predates Christendom, national boundaries, and the politics that have made people adversaries, and he disappeared when those things came about. The Polish language indirectly remembers him, however, in the word piorun, 'lightning'. Although few people anywhere talk about him anymore, I thought it important to mention Perun so as the old days are not completely forgotten.

While I'm on the topic, I should mention that the Baltic folks in Lithuania and Latvia had a similarly-named god in bygone days: Perkūnas. Perkūnas survives in modern Lithuanian in the word perkūnas, 'thunder'. It is interesting to me how one language and culture will emphasize one aspect of a concept over another. But I digress. The ride was temporarily postponed.

When the sun finally did emerge and the roads substantially dried out, Kościuszko and I (just the two of us, our first solo ride together) hit the road to roughly circumnavigate the Wilanów district.  It is best, after all, to know about 'home' before going out into the far vaster unknown.

As it happened, there were still large areas of wet roads and seriously deep puddles to negotiate. Not only that, but my planned route ended up being through some fairly muddy and rocky areas. How was I to know that secondary roads are sometimes only dirt and rocks? I know now, and I've marked them on the map.

Kościuszko at Lake Lisowskie

To add to these road hazards there was a stiff crosswind coming out of the west that hampered real progress and made an ordinarily easy ride quite a workout. I suppose, having started this post mentioning Perun, that I could likewise mention Dogoda, Slavic goddess (or god, I don't know, there is some ambiguity) of the West Wind, and attribute this windy gift of love and gentleness to her (or him).

I didn't need that particular gift today, actually, but having been given it, I accepted it. The upside was that it forced Kościuszko and me to take one little pause in the action, and we did so at Lake Lisowskie. It was a very stunning view! Wilanów District, you should know, is quite low-lying, as is the whole of the Vistula basin. In the case of our new home, there are many small lakes that feed into small creeks that feed into a larger stream called Wilanówka, from which the district derives its name.

Siekierki CHP Power Station

Turning north, we paralleled the Vistula, until we reached the mouth of the Wilanówka, at which point our next point of interest loomed into view. When we flew into Poland this week, I noticed at least three large CHP (combined heat and power) plants dotting the Warsaw skyline. One of them is about three kilometers from our place and is called the Siekierki Power Station. These plants are more than just coal-burning plants now, since the heat that is generated is fed back into the city heating network. They are still not what we would call "green energy", but in the case of these CHP plants, the company that owns them is gradually replacing the anthracite coal with willow biomass to be more environmentally friendly. The Polish government has also committed to a greener, more sustainable energy base and solar, and other energy types, are beginning to make an appearance. In any case, the Sierkierki plant is so large that I could see it from the south end of Wilanów.  Today I rode a bit closer to get a better look; the picture--taken from about 1km away--doesn't do its size justice.

Despite wind, muddy waters, and rocky tracks, Kościuszko and I fared well today. We had hoped for a longer ride, but with the late start and commitments later in the evening it was not to be. Still, we both had a nice, hot shower when we returned home; ready to roll again another day.

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Subscriber shout out: My friend Geoff, who hails from Tasmania, reminded me that the highest peak in Australia is Mount Kosciuszko, standing at 2228 meters (7310 feet) above sea level in Australia's Snowy Mountains in New South Wales. Geoff once skied down the peak! What an adventure that must have been! Thanks, Geoff, for contributing to our greater knowledge of Kościuszko (not my bike, but the Polish patriot's legacy).