Sunday, May 10, 2026
Route: Mostar → Sutjeska/Tjentište → Montenegro → Piva Canyon → Žabljak area

I chose the scenic route.

This is important, because several hours later that sentence would be used as evidence.

We were leaving Mostar and heading toward the Žabljak area of Montenegro, near Durmitor National Park. A faster route existed, but I wanted to go through mountains, canyons, and dramatic scenery.

Daniel looked at the map.

“That looks longer.”

“Also better,” I said.

This is how many of our decisions were made.

At first, the choice was excellent. Bosnia and Herzegovina gave us rugged valleys, cliffs, forests, small villages, and mountain roads that twisted through dramatic scenery. We stopped at the Sutjeska Battle Memorial near Tjentište, a powerful concrete monument in the Valley of Heroes commemorating one of the major World War II battles in Yugoslavia. It was solemn, striking, and worth the stop.

Then we crossed into Montenegro, and the landscape became even more dramatic.

Into the Piva Canyon

We passed whitewater rafting resorts and entered the Piva Canyon and Lake region. This was one of my favorite road sections of the whole trip. The water below was blue-green, the cliffs rose steeply, and the road carved itself through the mountainside near Mratinje Dam.

Fifty-Six Tunnels

Then came the tunnels.

Not a few tunnels.

A tunnel lifestyle.

Around 56 tunnels are associated with that canyon road, and by the end, I believed every one of them. The road would disappear into the mountain, pop out into sunlight, curve along the cliff, and vanish again. Some tunnels were short. Some were dark. Some were narrow enough to suggest the road builders had measured using optimism instead of equipment.

Daniel drove.

I admired the scenery while occasionally gripping the handle and pretending it was part of the seat design.

“This is incredible,” I said.

“Yes,” Daniel replied. “And also very close to the edge.”

Both things were true.

Snow in May and a Long Detour

After the canyon section, we began climbing toward a mountain pass. The road narrowed, twisted, and rose higher. We drove about 45 minutes up before a car coming from the opposite direction stopped and warned us that snow blocked the road ahead.

Snow.

In May.

As a Canadian, I understand snow. I have shoveled it, driven through it, complained about it, and occasionally respected it. But I had not mentally filed “Montenegro mountain pass in May” under “snow problem.”

We continued only as far as made sense, then accepted the truth: we had to turn around.

That sentence hurt.

We had already climbed most of the way. We were close to our destination. But the road was not passable, and Montenegro was not interested in our feelings. So we turned back and took a detour that added about two hours to the day.

At first, the scenery was majestic.

After the detour began, it was still majestic, but I was less emotionally available.

Arriving Near Žabljak

Eventually, we reached our accommodation near Žabljak. We had hoped to visit Black Lake, but by then daylight was fading. Paying the national park fee and parking for less than an hour of light felt like bad travel math.

So instead, we went to Devil’s Lake and the nearby medieval cemetery.

Honestly, it was a great choice.

Devil’s Lake sat in a wide, quiet landscape with snow-capped Durmitor mountains nearby. After the long drive, the tunnels, the snow warning, and the detour, the view felt like a reward. The mountains were close, the evening light was soft, and the day finally slowed down.

The nearby cemetery had old stećci tombstones, carved medieval grave markers found across parts of the Balkans. They stood quietly in the grass, with mountains behind them, like fragments of another time.

The day had included a war memorial, canyon roads, 56 tunnels, a snow-blocked mountain pass, a major detour, and a peaceful lake we had not originally planned to visit.

That is the strange magic of road trips.

The wrong road still becomes part of the right story.