Being a runner, I guess I had different expectations from my wife about how we would spend our "free time" while based in Kosice, in eastern Slovakia, on a Fulbright Teaching and Research Grant. Whereas I looked longingly at the hills and trails surrounding the city and wondered if I could make it up there, my wife patiently translated and decoded the bus and train schedules that connect Kosice with Krakow, Budapest and Prague.

We compromised by first traveling around this region of Slovakia, which boasts a wide array of UNESCO World Heritage Sites: towns, castles and palaces (Bardejov, Levoca, Spis Hrad, Betliar); and spectacular scenery under, on and way above the ground (ice caves of the Slovak Karst, forest trails and waterfalls of the Slovensky Raj, and the jagged peaks of the High Tatras). My classes and research collaborators filled my weekdays fairly completely, but weekends were open for us to go looking around the countryside.

Our routine was consistent all through the long, cool fall. We rose before dawn, caught the early bus to our chosen destination, and spent the day exploring.

The first interesting thing we noticed was that we were not the only people headed out into the surrounding country for the day or weekend. Coming from the U.S., we were surprised at the extent to which Slovaks use public transportation to fulfill their personal needs.

Have a dog? No problem. Just keep its muzzle on. Want to go pick mushrooms? No problem. Just ask the bus to stop at the best forest glade, even if it is nowhere near the "official" stop. Need to get the kids to grandma's house? No problem. Just let the driver know and smile as your three kids wave goodbye, even though the youngest can barely see over the edge of the window. Who needs an SUV when you have the SAD (Slovenska autobusova doprava)?

Arriving at our destination, we would first check the conveniently-posted bus schedule to see when (and on what days) a bus would be along to take us back to the city. Here, it was important to be able to distinguish the Saturday from the Sunday schedule; a language skill we learned the hard way.

Next, I would search for a local buffet, or potraviny, where we could stock up on snacks and water while we checked the maps. The Turisticka maps of Slovakia are a national treasure. The detailed information is so well-illustrated, that after a short while it almost does not matter that they are written in Slovak, for they are truly written in the universal language of topography: contours, colored trails and centimeter scales.

Each trip had its highs and lows. One morning we disembarked into a fog-shrouded world so white we could not see across the road. After a 3K hike, when the stone gates to Krasna Horka Castle loomed up ahead, we could just as easily have been 14th-century pilgrims seeking refuge on the road to the Holy Land.

Traveling early in the morning and late in the year, we were often the first visitors to many sites and frequently received private tours of the libraries, chapels and wine cellars. At the Spis Hrad, for example, we were free to wander all around the castle and through the set of the upcoming movie, "Hadrian's Wall," that was being filmed there. In St Elizabeth's Cathedral in Kocice, we joined a group of Hungarian schoolteachers laying a wreath and singing hymns at the tomb of Prince Rakoczi, a national hero in an 18th-century attempt by Hungary and Slovakia to break away from the Austrian empire.

Finally, in the chapel of the castle Krasna Horka, we found ourselves face to face with the formally-dressed and freshly-powdered mummy of the wife of an early owner.

Some trips had a destination in the form of a castle, medieval town or palace, but others were planned as all-day hikes. These are extremely popular in Slovakia, with a weekly schedule of guided hikes posted on a bulletin board in the square at the center of Kocice. It was quite common for us to encounter families with both toddlers and grandparents, deep in the woods, far from roads.

We particularly enjoyed our hikes in the Slovensky Raj (Slovak Paradise), a large protected national park filled with modest hills, trails, waterfalls and convenient cafes in the woods. Based in Cingov, we took daily excursions into the woods, again guided by our detailed tourist trail map. The only problem was trying to decide which of the many trails to take.

I was speaking Slovak earlier when I mentioned the "modest" hills and trails. The typical Slovak day hiker is quite proficient. A look at the photos on the Web site for the Slovensky Raj (www.slovenskyraj.info/) will give you the whole picture; let's just say going up a red trail involves climbing a ladder over a waterfall, which is like taking your whole family up onto the roof of your house while you clean the gutters. Once, while I was sitting at the base of another waterfall ascent and munching granola to gain courage, a Slovak couple sauntered by and the fellow walked up the ladder with no hands, and a huge pack on his back!

Overall, the trails are all marked with "estimates" of the hiking times between locations. But be warned. Our 5.5-hour, 18K "moderate" hike took us nine hours, and at its completion we just got a shower and went to bed. No night on the town.

Out on the trail the views were wonderful, the paths well marked and the footing firm, but rarely level. We found we could easily carry our basic food and water, but also found little chaty or salas that offered a full range of food and beverages, plus a warm stove or fireplace.

In the woods we also found surprises, both natural and historical. For example, at the start of a trail system at Alpinka, outside Kocice, is a wall with a plaque commemorating a guerrilla action by Slovaks resisting the occupying Nazi forces during World War II. Another plaque in the town square notes the site where such patriots were executed by the Germans.

On the hill above Podhradova, also in Kocice, are the ruins of a castle that stood guard over the city and the river Hornad below. Sometimes, thinking of those earlier times, the views from the walls give me chills and goose bumps imagining the guards on duty, patiently watching and trying to keep warm.

Hiking the trails or walking in the woods is tranquil, at least until a large white owl swoops overhead, or a deer bolts from the brush. It also involves all the senses, such as when smoke from a nearby cottage gives a hint of fresh sausages smoking in its chimney.

Coming along the edge of woods in the Slovensky Raj, we surprised a Roma family (Gypsies) out gathering kindling wood. The family, two mothers and four children, each with dark probing eyes, all trying to speak to us across a barrier that no language can span.

As winter closed in, our all-day hikes moved into city parks and museum corridors, but I still try to get out on the weekend for a jog around town or a run in the hills behind the campus of the Technical University where I worked. On one of these runs I fell in with four Slovak runners and was invited to join them for their next Saturday excursion.

We met at 8 a.m. at the gate to the Botanical Garden and began to run through the neighborhood near the campus. But instead of following the road up the hill out of town and to Horny Bankov (my usual route), these guys headed for the snow-covered trails.

I had kept my distance from the trails: they were icy and I did not have studs on my shoes. But I said nothing - when in Rome and when running in a pack ... I just followed into the woods and up the hill.

It had snowed about 10 centimeters during the week, and the snow had packed over the ice, giving the trail traction. So, to my surprise, it was not hard to run on. Still, the snow did not subtract from the altitude gain (maybe a 300-meter climb) and it was a long, slow slog to the top.

One nice thing about going slow is that you have time to look around. The winter scene was a picture postcard: a forest with snow sticking to all the tree branches and, in the distance, to the roofs of small houses on the adjoining hill. Many Slovaks have a little house (chata) and garden plot in the country that they use mostly in the summer, but this morning some had smoke coming from the chimneys.

At the top of the hill sat a little village and turn-around for the town bus. One convenient thing about Kocice is that the buses go out into the surrounding country, so that if you have a chata you can get to it without having to drive; this is more than a nice thing when the weather is cold and snowy.

After the road crested the hill, there was a trail that continued up another kilometer or so to the peak. Thankfully, I followed as we looped around the bus stop and headed back down.

After about half a mile we angled off on a branch trail to the left, away from town. The trail hugged the ridgeline, then descended around and through the trees for about 5K. About 1K from the start of this trail was a little chapel where I had seen people praying on previous trips. With my heart pounding and my breath short, I felt I now knew why it was built. From here I had a nice view of the lower trail that followed the river in the valley, where I often ran in the fall, and of the snow-covered hills that went on forever into the distance.

The only problem on this track was to keep clear of the "clear" spots where slippery ice waited for a misplaced shoe. I headed down chatting with one of the runners, Marian Stancak, who had a sore ankle. He was a neurosurgeon in Kocice and spoke English very well.

We safely made it all the way down the hill. From the bottom we made a big loop across the highway at Alpinka, a mini-Alpine village popular with families, then headed back up the hill.

The good news was the day was perfect, temperature around minus-2 degrees Celsius, and no wind. As we went up the hill, the same 5K, I fell in with the lead group: step, breathe in, step, breathe out, the usual fun run. The sun came up over the hill and cast shadows, on the snow beside us, that keep pace with us stride for stride. Nice warm easy strain.

At the top of the trail, instead of heading down and back to town in my usual hour-loop, these guys (at 90 minutes and counting) headed back toward the peak! I began to think about food and water, because I had none and these guys seemed to be camels or mountain goats.

As we came over the hilltop for the second time, we saw families with children and snow sleds enjoying a beautiful Saturday morning. The Slovaks really do enjoy winter weather.

I tried to guess the path we would take down the hill: back down the snowy trail, follow the road, or maybe across the hill into the old magnesium mine I got lost in back in November, before I knew the meaning of "Zakaz vstupu!" Here the guys threw me a curve, heading into the village to a little vinaren, a Slovak wine pub/coffee shop.

All I wanted to do was keep moving, while I still could, until we got back to town, but these guys wanted to take a break. OK, I figured, we would grab some jablko dzus (apple juice) for energy and get on with the run.

But a fire was burning in the stove, and the guys were taking off their gloves and jackets and asking me what I wanted to order. I said d_us and voda; they said pivo and vodka! Turned out it was one runner's birthday and another's nameday (Slovak tradition), so the birthday/ nameday boys got the shots and the rest ordered ovocny caj (some, with a small glass of cerveny vino on the side). The drink of the day, and pretty early in the day for me, was an herbal tea, wine heater. When in Rome ... So after my kiddy apple juice, I went for the tea (sans vino), followed by another tea, then a coffee for the road. This all took about 30 to 45 minutes. I made a stop at the water closet and got ready to run again.

The good news was I was warm. The bad news was my feet were wet (melted snow) and we still had 8K or so to get home. As we went back across the hill, past the state dormitory for Roma orphans, I asked about the facility.

Who are the kids? Just Gypsies. Why are they there? Nowhere else to go. Where are the parents? Parents drink too much. What are their options? Not many.

Not knowing Slovak or much about the social system here, I was unsure what to say or make of this. One thing for sure; however, was that while some Kocice families were out sledding on the hill next to the dorm, there were no signs of kids, laughter or fun on the other side of the high fence.

Going down the road quickly and heading into town, we were passed by cars climbing the sled hill. I was glad we were running in a group, since the "rules of the road" in Slovakia were clear: roads are for cars. I hugged the curb and followed the guy ahead of me.

We got back to town and, relieved, I got ready to say goodbye. This had taken about three hours; I was more than tired.

The last words I heard as I jogged back to my apartment was they expected to see me again for their next run up the hill: same place, same time - tomorrow morning.

And tomorrow, they were going the way to the top!

Richard L. Magin, head of bioengineering at the University of Illinois- Chicago, enjoys running Michigan's Harvest Stompede and Keewenaw Trail Festival, among other efforts. He wrote the above story after returning, in more or less one piece, to the States.