Some places become special because of what you see there.
Others become special because of what happens to you while you are there.
For me, Udziro Lake became both.
I have visited Udziro twice so far — first in 2025 and then again in 2026. Both trips took me to the same magical lake in Racha, but the experiences could hardly have been more different.
The first time, I was coming back to the mountains after spending far too much time at home. I was out of shape, carrying a ridiculously heavy photography backpack, and honestly a little nervous about whether I could still handle a proper two-day hike.
The second time, I returned stronger.
I had already completed several hikes, my body had finally remembered what mountains were supposed to feel like, and this time I was sharing the adventure with Ann.
And somewhere between those two trips, I realized something.
Sometimes returning to the same place is not really about seeing the place again.
It is about seeing yourself differently.
️ Interesting Facts & Technical Details
- Location: Racha, Georgia
- 2025 route: Shovi → Udziro Lake → Glola
- 2026 route: Glola → Udziro Lake → Glola
- 2025 hiking group: Green Zebra
- 2026 hiking group: Travelman
- Route difficulty: The Shovi → Glola route is considerably more demanding than the usual Glola → Udziro → Glola route.
- Landscape: Alpine lakes, dramatic ridges, forests, mountain rivers and views toward the Svaneti mountains.
- Photography: Excellent opportunities for landscape, sunrise, sunset, night photography and Milky Way timelapses.
- Best experience: Honestly, just being there.
Part I — 2025: Coming Back to the Mountains
Tako Knew I Needed to Go
My first trip to Udziro Lake happened in 2025.
And technically, I have to give most of the credit to my wife, Tako.
At that time, we were waiting for our baby, and I was spending almost all of my time at home. I didn’t want to leave her because I wanted to be there while we were waiting for our little one.
But Tako noticed something I was probably trying to ignore.
I was missing the mountains.
I was missing long walks, fresh air, difficult climbs, photography and that feeling of being somewhere far away from everyday life.
Tako is incredibly kind and caring, and instead of telling me to stay home with her, she basically forced me to go.
Literally.
She saw that I was desperate for the mountains and told me to go to Udziro.
So I went.
And I am incredibly glad she did.
Out of Shape, But Still Going
There was one small problem.
I was in terrible shape.
I had spent so much time at home and visited the mountains so rarely that I had gained extra weight and my muscles had basically gone into sleeping mode.
I knew Udziro wasn’t going to be an easy walk.
It was a proper two-day hike, with a heavy backpack, significant elevation changes and a difficult ridge crossing.
So, naturally, I was nervous.
I wasn’t sure how my body would react.
Would I struggle?
Would I have to turn back?
Would I be the person everyone had to wait for?
I had no idea.
But I decided to go anyway.
The hike was organized by Green Zebra, the best hiking team in Georgia in my opinion, and from the beginning I knew we were not going to take the easy route.
Green Zebra likes challenging routes.
But they also know something important:
The harder route is often the more beautiful one.
From Shovi Into the Mountains
We started from Shovi, a village in Racha.
This route is considerably more demanding than the route most hikers take, which starts from Glola and returns to Glola after visiting Udziro Lake.
Instead, our route would take us from Shovi all the way to Glola, creating a circular journey through the mountains.
That meant we would see much more of the landscape.
The road from Tbilisi to Shovi had already taken around four or five hours, so when the microbus finally stopped near our starting point, we were ready.
The funny thing was that the starting point looked almost completely uninteresting.
If someone simply dropped you there without telling you where you were, you probably wouldn’t guess that Udziro Lake was waiting somewhere beyond the forest.
The entrance to the trail was right next to the forest.
That was basically it.
If you didn’t know the place, you could easily walk past it.
We got out of the microbus, ate a little, prepared our gear, adjusted our backpacks, and finally started walking.
The adventure had begun.
Into the Forest
Right from the beginning, the trail went uphill.
The forest was incredibly wet.
Moisture filled the air, and the clean mountain air immediately made its way into our lungs.
Everything was quiet.
Trees.
Mud.
The smell of wet forest.
The sound of our footsteps.
And a narrow trail leading upward.
Despite my worries, I was doing surprisingly well.
I wasn’t flying up the mountain like I used to, but I was moving at a decent pace.
More importantly, I was not struggling nearly as much as I had feared.
Some members of our group were having a much harder time, so we stopped several times to wait for them.
This is one of the things I really appreciate about Green Zebra.
They don’t simply leave slower hikers behind.
They wait for everyone.
The group moves together.
Slowly, but together.
Eventually, after climbing higher and higher, we began approaching the end of the forest.
And then the landscape changed completely.
The Mountains Looked Like Avatar
The moment we left the forest, I was genuinely shocked.
The landscape was completely different.
The mountains around us had strange, rounded and twisted shapes.
They almost looked as if gravity had played with them.
My first thought was that the place looked like something from Avatar.
The trail itself became easier here.
It wasn’t nearly as steep as the forest, and we were able to move forward between the mountains, alongside a river, while enjoying the enormous views around us.
It was one of those places where you constantly want to stop.
Not because you are tired.
Because you keep seeing something worth photographing.
And, of course, I was photographing everything.
Lunch Beside the River
After walking for a while, we decided to take a long break next to the river.
There were huge rocks beside the water, so we sat down, ate some food, talked and simply enjoyed the surroundings.
Luckily for us, there were no flies.
I had heard that during the fly season there can be a lot of horseflies around here, and apparently their bites can be painfully unpleasant.
So we were lucky.
We just sat there.
Talked.
Ate.
Relaxed.
Some members of the group were still behind us when we finished our break, so eventually we continued along the trail.
The next section was uphill again.
Not extremely steep, but enough to remind us that the easy part wasn’t going to last forever.
I continued taking photographs along the way.
The landscapes were simply too unique to ignore.
The Ridge We Were Supposed to Climb
Little by little, the day passed.
It was probably around 15:00 when we reached the bottom of the ridge.
By that point, quite a few of us were already tired.
Not completely exhausted.
But definitely tired enough to appreciate another break.
We stopped at the bottom of the ridge and looked upward, trying to figure out where the trail went.
Then one of the Green Zebra leaders pointed toward the top.
“We’re going up there.”
Some people laughed.
Honestly, I understood why.
The top of the ridge was partly hidden by mist, so we couldn’t even properly see where the trail ended.
But the part we could see already looked unbelievable.
I knew Green Zebra.
I knew exactly what was coming.
It wasn’t a joke.
We were going all the way up there. 😀
And so the final challenge of the day began.
The Katitsvera Ridge
The problem with the ridge wasn’t simply the steepness.
It was the ridge itself.
There were several dangerous sections where a bad step could result in a very unpleasant fall.
So we started climbing carefully.
Step by step.
I eventually reached the middle of the ridge.
And I’m not going to pretend it was easy.
It was hard.
Really hard.
But I was happy with myself.
I was somewhere around the middle of the group, while most of the people were behind me.
Considering how out of shape I had been before the trip, that felt like a small victory.
At least I hadn’t completely lost my mountain legs.
I continued carefully.
Eventually, I reached the top.
And I immediately hoped the lake would be there.
We had walked such a huge distance.
It was already getting close to evening.
Surely Udziro had to be right there.
But, of course, the mountains had another surprise for us.
️ Not Yet…
It had started raining slightly.
There was mist everywhere.
The wind was getting stronger.
And I was wearing very light clothing.
I was getting seriously cold.
We had finally reached the top of the Katitsvera Ridge, but Udziro Lake wasn’t immediately beneath us.
Instead, we had to go down.
From the top of the ridge, the lake looked incredibly small and surprisingly far away.
Still, seeing it was a huge relief.
At least it was finally visible.
We had a destination.
We started descending over enormous rocks.
Going downhill might not feel as demanding as going uphill, but it puts a lot of stress on your knees.
And when you are carrying a heavy photography backpack, every downhill step becomes a little more complicated.
After about an hour of descending, I finally saw it properly.
Udziro Lake.
️ Finally — Udziro Lake
A small, beautiful lake surrounded by mountains.
Behind it stood Katitsvera Mountain with its incredible, almost otherworldly shape.
In front of us was an enormous open view toward the mountains of Svaneti.
The entire landscape looked unreal.
This was the place we had been walking toward all day.
And suddenly, the exhaustion didn’t matter anymore.
Almost.
Because I was absolutely freezing.
I was wet.
I was tired.
And my body had had enough.
The moment I reached the campsite, I took off my backpack, pulled out my tent and started building my little sweet house right in front of the lake.
Once it was ready, I went inside.
I changed out of my wet clothes, lay down on my Big Agnes Rapid SL Duo sleeping pad and put my sleeping bag over myself like a blanket.
I just wanted to stop shivering.
Eventually, I warmed up.
I ate a small meal and rested for a while.
And once I was warm and comfortable again…
I did what I always do.
I grabbed my camera.
When the Lake Becomes a Studio
I went outside to explore the area around the campsite.
The landscape was incredible.
The shapes of the mountains were unlike anything I had seen before.
The lake reflected the surroundings, and our tents added another element to the scene.
Everything looked magical.
I took photograph after photograph.
There was simply too much to capture.
You can see many of those photographs in the gallery.
Unfortunately, as the evening progressed, mist started moving in and slowly blocked the views.
But before it arrived, I had already managed to capture plenty of photographs that I was really happy with.
When darkness finally came, I went back into the tent.
I had one more plan.
Astrophotography.
The Stars That Never Came
I really wanted to photograph the night sky above Udziro.
A mountain lake.
Katitsvera behind it.
A tent beside the water.
And the Milky Way above everything.
It would have been an incredible photograph.
Unfortunately, the mist had other plans.
The sky remained covered.
No stars.
No Milky Way.
No astrophotography.
I was disappointed, of course.
But I couldn’t really complain.
I had already photographed an incredible landscape throughout the day.
And eventually, I went to sleep.
Surprisingly, I slept really well.
My gear was dry.
My sleeping pad and sleeping bag kept me warm.
Outside, the air was freezing.
Inside, I was comfortable.
For the first time that day, everything was quiet.
Sunrise and a Mountain Timelapse
The next morning, I woke up early.
I always set an alarm when I’m camping somewhere like this.
I don’t want to miss sunrise.
There was a huge mountain directly in front of Udziro Lake, and I decided to create a timelapse.
The mist was moving around the mountain, flowing through the landscape almost like water.
Watching it in real time was beautiful.
Watching the final timelapse later was even better.
Once again, my main mission was simple:
Take as many epic photographs as possible.
And I think I did pretty well.
I was genuinely happy with what I had captured.
But time flies ridiculously fast in places like this.
Even though I had woken up early, suddenly it was already time to leave.
From Udziro to Glola
Since Green Zebra had planned a circular route, our journey wasn’t going to end where it started.
We had come from Shovi.
Now we had to make our way toward Glola.
Before leaving, I ate something, stopped my timelapse and filmed another one — this time of people posing in front of Udziro Lake.
That timelapse turned out to be really good.
Then I packed my backpack, said goodbye to our campsite and started walking.
The way back offered completely different landscapes.
I kept taking photographs.
Some rocks looked like people.
Other areas seemed almost designed for photography.
At one point, there was even a small mountain where you could stand on top and, if someone photographed you from a distance, it looked as if you were standing on the edge of the sky.
It was an incredible place.
Unlike the previous day, we were going downhill almost the entire time.
And something interesting happened.
My body had finally woken up.
My muscles were working better.
I felt stronger.
And I started moving much faster.
By the time we reached the microbus, I was actually among the first people there.
😀
Not bad for someone who had started the trip wondering whether he could handle the hike at all.
Part II — 2026: Coming Back Stronger
I returned to Udziro Lake again in 2026.
This time, things were different.
I went with a company called Travelman, and I was in much better shape.
Since my first visit, I had done several more hikes.
I had visited Tanie Lake.
I had gone from Juta to the Abudelauri Lakes.
I had simply spent much more time in the mountains.
My body had adapted again.
The muscles had finally woken up.
And this time, I wasn’t nervous about Udziro.
I was actually looking forward to it.
There was another important difference.
This time I went with Ann.
Sadly, Tako couldn’t join us again.
Our little baby refused to stay with the babysitter, so Tako had to stay home and look after him.
I was disappointed, of course.
I would have loved for all three of us to go together.
But I was still really happy that Ann could join me.
Same Lake, Easier Route
This time we started from Glola.
The route was familiar.
I already knew where we were going.
And because this route is easier than the Shovi → Glola crossing, the whole experience felt completely different.
Ann and I were moving ahead of the group.
We had quite a significant gap between ourselves and the others, which meant we could stop whenever we wanted.
If we wanted to rest, we rested.
If we wanted to take photographs, we took photographs.
If we wanted to simply sit down and enjoy the landscape, we did that too.
We were also proud of one thing.
We were carrying our own backpacks.
Some people had paid extra to have horses carry their gear.
Ann and I carried everything ourselves.
And we still reached the lake among the first people.
We even overtook some people who were hiking without much gear.
That gave us a lot of confidence.
Maybe we really were ready to start trying even harder hikes.
️ The Rain Arrived at Exactly the Right Time
We reached Udziro among the first people.
We unpacked our equipment.
We unfolded our tents.
We organized everything.
And then…
Heavy rain started.
Immediately.
It was almost comical.
The timing couldn’t have been better.
We had arrived early enough to set up our tents before the rain became heavy.
We were inside and dry.
People who arrived later were not so lucky.
Many of them got wet.
And their baggage was delayed because it was being transported by horses.
The horses eventually brought the backpacks at around 19:00.
Until then, those people had to wait outside in the cold and rain.
It was genuinely sad to see.
Meanwhile, Ann and I were sitting comfortably inside our tent thinking about how incredibly lucky we had been.
Sometimes arriving early is everything.
Ann Sees Udziro for the First Time
Once the rain finally stopped, we went outside.
And I could immediately tell that Ann loved the place.
She loved Udziro just as much as I had during my first visit.
We spent hours exploring the lake and surrounding mountains.
And this time, the weather was much kinder to us.
Unlike my first visit, I actually got the opportunity to photograph the night properly.
And that made a huge difference.
I took night photographs.
I photographed the stars.
And then…
The Milky Way appeared.
I managed to capture a Milky Way timelapse.
This was exactly what I had wanted during my first trip but couldn’t get because of the mist.
I took so many photographs that I almost completely filled two SD cards.
Two.
SD.
Cards.
For a photographer, that is a pretty good sign that the trip went well.
The Night I Was Waiting For
Standing beside Udziro at night with the stars above it was completely different from my first visit.
In 2025, I had been standing in almost the same place, hoping for the sky to clear.
It never did.
In 2026, I finally got it.
The lake.
The mountains.
The darkness.
The stars.
The Milky Way.
The camera on the tripod.
And enough time to actually enjoy it.
This is one of the reasons I like returning to places.
Sometimes nature doesn’t give you everything the first time.
You can come back years later and finally get the moment you were hoping for.
One More Morning
The next morning was beautiful as well.
We woke up early, went outside and explored the area around the lake again.
We walked here and there.
Took more photographs.
Enjoyed the landscape.
There was no rush.
We had already accomplished what we wanted.
The weather was good.
The photographs were good.
The night had been incredible.
Eventually, however, it was time to go.
We packed our equipment and started walking back toward Glola.
The Muddy Way Home
The descent was easy.
Much easier than the previous year’s Shovi → Glola route.
But there was one problem.
The forest.
It had rained heavily the previous day, and the trail had turned into mud.
Everything was slippery.
Every step had to be chosen carefully.
Somehow, I managed to reach the microbus without falling even once.
Ann was not quite as fortunate.
She fell three times.
By the end, she was covered in mud.
Completely.
But we were still laughing about it.
And the most important thing was that she wasn’t hurt.
We reached the microbus at around 14:00.
Again, we were among the first people back.
The last person from our group didn’t reach the bottom until around 18:00.
And once again, we looked at each other and thought:
Maybe we’re ready for something harder.
Two Visits, Two Different Versions of Me
When I think about these two trips now, I realize that Udziro Lake became more than just another destination on my hiking map.
In 2025, I went because Tako saw that I was missing the mountains.
I was out of shape.
I was nervous.
I carried too much photography equipment.
The route was hard.
I got cold.
I got wet.
I failed to photograph the Milky Way.
But I still loved every minute of it.
That trip reminded me how much I needed the mountains.
In 2026, I returned as a different hiker.
I had trained.
I had completed more hikes.
I was stronger.
I knew what to expect.
I carried my own backpack.
I reached the lake among the first people.
I photographed the Milky Way.
I filled almost two SD cards.
And I got to experience Udziro again with Ann.
The same mountains.
The same lake.
But a completely different experience.
The One Thing Still Missing
There is, however, one thing I still wish I could have changed.
I wish Tako could have been there.
For some time now, we haven’t been able to go on a proper two-day hike together.
She was the person who pushed me toward Udziro in the first place.
She was the reason I went there for the first time.
And yet, she hasn’t been able to join me on one of these longer adventures.
Our little baby had other plans.
He refused to stay with the babysitter, so Tako had to stay home and take care of him.
I completely understand.
Family comes first.
But I still think about how amazing it would be for the three of us — or at least for Tako and me — to experience a proper mountain adventure together again.
I can only imagine how much fun it would be.
Same Place, More Memories
Still, I am incredibly happy that I returned to Udziro.
And I’m even happier that I got to share the second trip with Ann.
She loved the place.
We carried our own gear.
We walked ahead of the group.
We took endless photographs.
We watched the Milky Way.
We laughed when the rain arrived immediately after setting up the tents.
We survived the muddy forest.
And we came back with another collection of memories.
That’s probably what I love most about hiking.
The mountains themselves are only part of the story.
The real value comes from everything that happens around them.
The people.
The conversations.
The exhaustion.
The unexpected problems.
The stupid jokes.
The photographs.
The moments when everything goes perfectly.
And the moments when absolutely nothing goes according to plan.
You remember all of it.
What Actually Matters
When I look at my photographs from Udziro, I don’t only see mountains.
I see two different versions of myself.
I see the person who went there in 2025 because his wife knew he needed to get out of the house and return to the mountains.
I see the exhausted guy climbing the ridge with a heavy camera backpack, wondering whether he still had it in him.
I see the freezing evening beside the lake.
The tent.
The mist.
The failed astrophotography attempt.
The sunrise timelapse.
Then I see 2026.
A stronger version of myself.
Walking with Ann.
Carrying our own gear.
Reaching the lake early.
Sitting beside the water.
Photographing the Milky Way.
Filling two SD cards.
Walking back through the mud.
And laughing about it.
Same lake.
Different year.
Different people.
Different weather.
Different version of me.
But one thing remained the same.
The feeling that being out there was exactly where I wanted to be.
And perhaps that is what hiking is really about.
Not just reaching the destination.
Not just collecting peaks or lakes or kilometers.
It is about collecting moments.
Moments you can later look back on and say:
“I was there.”
So share those moments with the people close to you.
Explore.
Hike.
Get tired.
Get wet.
Fall in the mud.
Laugh about it.
Take photographs.
And make memories.
Because when everything else is gone, those memories are probably what matters most.
