Škrlatica (2,740 m) sat on my wish list for far too long—until 2024, when I finally stood on its summit. As Slovenia’s second-highest mountain and one of the most striking peaks in the Julian Alps, it offers one of the finest views of Triglav and the surrounding ridgelines.

The most common approach starts in the Vrata Valley (Aljažev dom). The ascent typically takes 7–9 hours of hiking (depending on route and pace). It’s classified as a demanding marked trail—not extreme climbing, but you should expect exposed sections, fixed cables, and a substantial elevation gain (around 1,700 m). You’ll need solid fitness, a steady step, and proper gear (a helmet is recommended due to loose rock).

Read more about my experience in the Škrlatica ascent.

Jalovec (2,645 m) is often described as one of the most perfectly shaped peaks in the Julian Alps. Its pyramid silhouette is unmistakable from afar—especially from the Tamar Valley or the Vršič Pass.

The upper ridge is narrow and exposed, with a sense of emptiness on both sides. This isn’t a casual walk on a mountain path. It’s movement along a line between air and stone. One particularly striking feature is the view toward Ozebnik: a steep snowfield (or gully) below the summit on the northwest side.

And for those of us who collect summit stamps, Jalovec is one of those routes that never stays off the list for long.

Mangart (or Mangrt, 2,679 m) is one of those peaks almost every hiker keeps on their radar. Some of us also remember the name from a production company with the same name. With its 2,679 meters, it’s among the highest mountains in Slovenia and it sits right on the Slovenia–Italy border. The summit opens up vast panoramic views from nearby Jalovec all the way to the Italian side of the Julian Alps.

Mangart’s standout feature is access: the road to Mangart Saddle climbs above 2,000 meters, shortening the hike significantly—while often lengthening the tourist line. Two main routes lead to the top: the Italian Via Italiana (with fixed cables), which is more exposed and protected, and a slightly easier Slovenian alternative.

My ascent would’ve been close to perfect… if I hadn’t made a beginner mistake. For the first (and last) time in my life, I didn’t have proper hiking boots. It was only on the scree and exposed sections that I truly felt how much grip and a stable step matter. I finished safely, but the difference between “I can manage” and “I feel safe” is huge.

That’s why I can offer a friendly piece of advice, before you head out on a route like this.

Prisojnik (also known as Prisank, 2,547 m) is one of the most recognizable peaks above the Vršič Pass. You can see it clearly even from Lake Jasna (in Kranjska Gora), which is why it’s a frequent target for camera lenses.

Prisojnik Window is considered one of the largest natural rock windows in the Julian Alps, and Ajdovska deklica—the “Heathen Maiden”—is a stone face tied to one of Slovenia’s best-known mountain legends. With these two symbols, the mountain becomes something more than a destination: it’s a story carved into rock.

In 2022 I experienced it up close—not just from Vršič, but by stepping into its vast wall. I reached the summit via Kopiščar’s Route, one of the more engaging and varied ways up, where moving between rocks turns into scrambling on all fours above exposed passages. Even so, it was a one-of-a-kind experience—and yes, I’ll admit it: this is for true via ferrata enthusiasts.

Razor (2,601 m) rises above the Krnica Valley and the Kriški Podi plateau—often living in the shadow of more famous neighbors, yet in reality a true high-alpine gem of the Julian Alps. From the summit, views open toward Prisojnik, Škrlatica, and the central Julian range, and its sharp shape makes it look almost unreachable.

Several very demanding routes lead to Razor—most commonly from Vršič, Krnica, or Zadnjica. Many approaches are classified as very demanding marked trails, where a helmet and a via ferrata kit are recommended due to exposure and (important) protected sections.

This time, the mountain surprised me right at the end. Near the summit, a ladder appears—at moments even slightly overhanging—just enough to make you pause, look up, and think: okay, now it’s getting interesting. That moment was one of the more adrenaline-filled parts of the day, and also the one to remember.

Špik (2,472 m) is one of those mountains you don’t visit just once. Its striking pyramid silhouette catches your eye from the valley below and quietly plants the dream of standing on its summit one day.

I first tried to climb it when I was ten. Back then, the desire was bigger than the experience, so the mountain remained an unfinished story. A year later I returned — and succeeded via Kačji graben, the steep and classic route up Špik that gains over 1,500 m and typically takes around 4–5 hours to the summit.

Then almost twenty-five years passed. This time the climb felt different—less childlike excitement, more respect for the mountain. The weather wasn’t on my side; clouds hid the famous views Špik is known for. But sometimes those are the days that show you another face of the mountains: silence, focus on each step, and the awareness that a summit isn’t always about the panorama.

That was the most interesting part—how differently you experience the same mountain over time. What once felt like an adventure becomes, later, responsibility—and the knowledge that conditions in the mountains can change the entire experience in a heartbeat.

Which is why I keep returning to the same thought: good preparation isn’t something you do because of necessity—it’s something you do for yourself. Weather and an honest assessment of your abilities often decide whether a day in the mountains becomes a great memory or an unnecessary risk.

Before you go, you can read a few more useful tips.

Kanjavec (2,568 m) is one of those mountains that looks friendly on a map—a broad plateau and a sense of open space. In reality, it can quickly remind you that high mountains aren’t always a walk in the park—even when conditions look ideal.

The first time a colleague and I headed toward the summit, snowfields were still visible on the slopes, even though it was already the second half of June. Within just a few minutes, the temperature dropped by 10 to 15 degrees. Even though I had (small) crampons and was cutting steps, I slipped on one of the crossings. A few meters were enough for time to slow down, and below me Prehodavci slowly emerged. Luckily, I managed to stop on my own—no injury, but with a very clear warning about how fast conditions can turn against you.

Kanjavec taught me something simple: in the mountains, the win isn’t always the summit—sometimes the best decision is to turn around. Conditions, equipment, and honest judgment often matter more than the desire to reach the goal. The route is a bit longer and requires some endurance, but it’s mostly technically straightforward. The best starting point is Planina Blato, with alternatives via Komna toward Dolič, or from the Zadnjica valley. Even so, Kanjavec remains one of my favorite mountains in Julian Alps.

Begunjščica (2,060 m) is one of the most popular mountains in the western Karavanks. The most common approach starts at Ljubelj, via Zelenica and Roblek Mountain Hut, though a loop via Šentanski plaz or along the main ridge is also possible.

It’s one of those mountains many hikers quickly fall for. A long, varied ridge, softer grassy slopes, and open views give you that “I’m really up high” feeling—without the harsher vibe of bigger alpine terrain. That’s why it feels like one of the more family-friendly classics.

The ascent isn’t technically demanding, yet it still offers a proper mountain experience in 2 to 4 hours, depending on whether you start from Ljubelj or take the longer route via Roblekov Hut.

Storžič (2,132 m) is a truly striking mountain, famous for its pronounced cone shape. In good weather, you can’t miss it—though it also has a reputation for “cooking up” local unpleasant weather over the area beneath it.

From the classic starting point at Dom pod Storžičem Hut, you’ll climb around 1,200 meters of elevation in three to four hours. The final section crosses scree and erosion-worn slopes, where the terrain steepens significantly. Your steps get shorter, the pace slower, and suddenly you realize the summit is mostly about persistence. It’s not technical climbing on the standard routes, but it’s physically demanding—especially on the descent, where careful footing matters.

From the top, wide views open toward the Julian Alps, the Karavanks, and the central Kamnik–Savinja Alps.