~ Altai Expedition Diary ~ Seth ~zeffer~ Judd August 2011
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“Never
have I traveled for so long and so far to cast these eyes on such astounding
natural wonders as are seen here in this place.Truly it is a marvelous
fortune that this Altai region lies largely forgotten, far from civilization's
harm” |
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| Day { 1 } Touchdown of our old Russian An-72 propeller plane was smooth and in the August heat we made our rendevous with the Izhevsk group of climbers at the train station in the large Siberian city of Novosibirsk. Together we have all bought cheap tickets for the train that will take us 650km to the most southern city at the end of the railway line – Bisk. I have just found my seat on the train and amazed to find that the same girl Olya, who was my neighbour on the plane, has been assigned the neighbouring seat on this train – what a huge coincidence! So it seems we will be able to continue our chat.
We spent some time all playing Russian classic card game of ‘Durak”. Now I’m writing this diary by torch-light in constricted corner of the compartment as the night train clatters sedately through the wilderness on our ten hour journey to Bisk. They switch off all the lights in the train at 11.30pm, but in the semi-darkness I can see Sasha and Anton curled up in very strange positions trying to get some hours sleep between the piles of rucksacks. Pasha and Danil are both trying to fit on one bed – it looks very precarious. |
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| Day { 2 }
Our train arrived at the end of the line here in Bisk at 6.30am and sun is just rising. It is a clear beautiful day, but quite chill. Everyone of us is bleary-eyed and still very sleepy. Our mass of rucksacks and equipment is piled up in a massive heap on the open platform and two other groups of alpinists are also congregated with mounds of rucksacks further down the platform. Nobody seems to know how to proceed from here, Pasha has not organized any transport in advance and he and Sasha have gone off to the small bus station to try and organize some spontaneous transport into the Altai from this city. Now
it is 11am and we are setting off on our 780km journey from Bisk to
the final base-camp at a settlement at the end of the road in the Altai
mountains. Fortunately Pasha found a driver whom he has convinced to
transport us and all our stuff for the sum of 10,000 roubles.
The region between Gorno-Altaisk and the Altai mountains is filled with small old villages of wooden houses nestled among green hills on all sides. Each of the houses has a wonderful garden, verdant with fruit and vegetables of the highest quality which the locals sell on stalls by the road for low prices. The people whom we have bought fruit off seem to be very nice and friendly. The valleys are so green and full of plant-life with large fields that have no borders and trees of many different kinds. After
six hours on the road, our minibus climbed up and up into the Altai
proper, onto a high ridge with a small plateau and great views ahead
into the Altai foothills. We stopped at the ridge to visit a sacred
shamanic place – a small grassy meadow
amongst sparse forest of windswept cedar trees. Several standing
stones lay on the ground near a glade of
cedars and the lower branches of the trees were covered in a At one village in the Altai steppe, Pasha decided we would give a lift to a local Altai herder man who was hitch-hiking. He explained some interesting aspects of the region, but unfortunately proceeded to get drunk very quickly and became incomprehensible and rather aggressive. Apparently the tribal-peoples such as those in the Altai have mostly become alchoholics as a result of their assimilation into the soviet union. Sometime later we stopped at a second traditional shaman meeting place at a spring bubbling-up in a copse of small scot’s pine trees under a small red cliff with pines on the ridge at the top. It’s quite an unusual land-mark here and one can see why ancient peoples chose it. Again we saw lots of pilgrims prayer-flags strewn over the small trees and bushes. We
have bee The
time is now 8pm and our yellow-minibus is waiting in a queue of 5 vehicles
at a border-control post where 3 soldiers
man a barrier across the road. We have been waiting here an hour already
and not much is I have just been informed by harried-looking Sasha that the soldiers at the border are unlikely to let me and Pasha through. Pasha has unbelievably lost his passport and the guards don’t want to accept his temporary pass. And it seems Pasha didn’t register my passport 2 months ago as he should have done, so they definitely won’t let me through. This adventure is starting off on a very ad-hoc note and we need some creative thinking to get around this obstacle. We are now sitting in the dark around the rosy glow of the campfire at Tungur settlement where we are staying at an alpinist base-camp amongst the forest of pines and silver-birch not far from the River Katun. The time is about 10pm and there is a subdued air around the campfire. Everyone of us is exhausted from days of traveling without sleep and I have a headache from dehydration. Our first obstacle at Russian border control did not pass by at all as expected and we have lost Pasha, our expedition leader. This is quite a blow and nobody knows what to do now as we can’t get through to him by mobile and the last time we saw him was at the border where the guards detained him. The border guards were strict and mean, but Pasha was confident that after they call headquarters they will let him through. However it seems he has been refused and they intend to escort him back to Bisk. I made it through the border because the driver agreed to smuggle me through – lying hidden under a mound of rucksacks at the back of the bus. The guards almost saw my face –visible under one seat, but fortunately Anton noticed and hid me with his legs. The final 2 hours drive to this base was in darkness in pouring rain on steep winding bumpy mountain road. Eleven hours stuck in a bus is a long time, even if the view is astounding. Unbelievably Pasha didn’t think to keep any money with him or food or equipment when he stayed at the post, he is wearing just a T-shirt and the nights are cold here. No idea what happened with his phone. We have a good signal here. The base-camp administrator, a friendly lady called Tatiana, met us here and showed us a camp-spot where we have pitched our two tents, also with a pile of wood and a wooden table. It seems about 4 other alpinist groups are also staying here tonight and are camped nearby. The nearest group are 5 very jolly girls who are drinking and laughing a lot, not sure what they are celebrating. We have made a fire and cooked a late supper. Rain has stopped fortunately. Spent some time chatting to the girls group and time is now 1.30am so we are going to get some much needed sleep. We have decided to drive back to the border post at 7a.m to mount a rescue mission for Pasha. |
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Day { 3 }
Last night was certainly an eventful start to our Altai campaign and nobody got enough sleep. Just 2 short hours after we lay down in our sleeping bags, we were woken by cries outside in the darkness and pouring rain. The shouts of, “Are the Izhevsk group here” continued and a few seconds later the tent door was unzipped and out of the rain materialized Pasha. In the light of our headlamp his soaking wet head was quite an apparition and it took us some time to understand his stuttered commands for someone to hand him a thousand roubles. He was dressed in just trousers and T-shirt and was shivering violently from cold and wet. He took the thousand roubles and disappeared. Some minutes later he reappeared and squeezed his way into our crowded tent and quickly put on warm clothes while wearily trying to answer the many frenetic questions from us about his adventure. He related how the border guards had confiscated his documents and were intending to deport him back to Bisk. And while they waited for transport, he sneaked round the back and ran off into the thick forest in the pitch black. After navigating several kilometers of forested wilderness and falling head-first into a river he made it to the road on the other side of the border and walked for four hours in the rain before he was fortunate to meet a car. The car contained two Altai drug-runners who agreed to drive him to Tungur for a thousand roubles and drove the whole way there while stoned off their heads on mounds of cannabis while he sat in the back and feared for his life. We were overwhelmed with joy and relief that he had made it! He went on to related how his mobile had fallen out of his pocket while he waded through the river and is lost, which is why we hadn’t been able to contact him. After ten minutes of talking he fell asleep exhausted and we did the same. A bit later I went with Danil and Sasha to Tungur settlement over the river to visit the only two shops and buy plastic bags, saucepan, bottles and sellotape. It’s a picturesque 16th century type of village with lovely old wooden log houses and gardens of various vegetables and fruit trees. Very few people there in the village, but those we met in the shop were friendly. The bridge over the river to the settlement is an ancient suspension bridge with floor of many cedar-wood planks that have been patched and repaired a thousand times. The river looks so pure and is a lovely natural green/azue turquoise colour with extremely cold water. Very sunny day, can feel that I’m already getting sunburnt.
It’s now 2.30pm and we are relaxing on the grass on the bank of the beautiful and turbulent river Kucherla just outside the small village of Kucherla. We had a 2 hour uphill slog to get here with 20 minute marches and 10 minute breaks.
We have had our small lunch of half-slice of bread and slice of cheese and had a lovely half hour sunbathing and taking photos. Saw a baggage-train of local ponies & a herder heading past us up into the hills. I had a brief swim naked in the river – it was literally thirty seconds as the water is so icy that my muscles became numb. Now at our first wild campsite where we will stay one night. We trekked another 4 hours up from the river through beautiful forest and steppe – a grassy plateau covered in many plants and colourful flowers. We saw lots of wild raspberry plants in the forest and ate some berries.
Supper of buckwheat, onion and tinned-beef is simmering nicely in the big cauldron on the fire and everyone is busy either gathering firewood, putting up tents or preparing supper. I must confess that I’m starving after strenuous day and no meal since 9am – just looking at the supper is making my mouth water! Sun is setting and everywhere is washed in a lovely golden light. It’s now midnight and dark and peaceful here – just sound of the
crickets and the fire. I’m going to sleep. |
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Day { 4 }
It is now midday and the weather is hot and sunny (23C). In half an hour we will set off with rucksacks along the mountain track through the forest to ascend to the top of the mountain ridge which we must crest to gain access to the remote Akkem valley on the other side. Pasha’s plan was to all wake up early in order to get a full day hiking, but he didn’t bring an alarm clock and everyone overslept several hours. Amazingly of all the seven people, I am the only one who brought a watch! We also have a few mobile phones, but dare not switch them on as we must conserve precious battery. It’s a miracle how the body can still function after four days of practically no sleep, I guess the excitement, wonderful surroundings, lack of stress and clear-mountain air help. To help wake up our sleepy bodies, me and Sasha sawed up several large branches with Pasha’s remarkable saw – it’s like a bicycle chain with sharp teeth and two handles. We have had a delicious breakfast of rice-pudding made
with milk-powder (and added red-currants) and also some
We are now resting amongst the Scott’s pines at the very top of a high windy ridge at 1530m. We are so incredibly pleased to have finally reached the top and proud that we made it up such a long steep climb. The time is now 4.30pm and we have been struggling up and up and up in the rain for four hours with rest stops every half an hour. Fortunately my body received a great ‘2nd wind’ for the final steep climb and I managed it fine, but the four guys with the heavier rucksacks found it a hard slog. Our route took us through verdant forest of silver-birch, pines, cedars and a few other small trees that cover the mountain side. Sometimes we had a nice view of the swirling mists in a swathe on the mountain side and at one point we heard strange screeching cries echoing around the valley – turned out to be mountain goats. Now we are inside the thick cloud and it is still raining so there’s not really any view. It’s much colder up here and we have donned jerseys and coats and are standing and eating our meager lunch of dry rusk of bread with a small piece of smoked cheese and sala. (Sala is popular for outdoor treks as it contains an enormous amount of energy and takes little space. It is basically pure white pig fat). I am not eating the sala and have supplemented my lunch with some nuts and raisins and two small sweets. Me and Anton both switched on our mobiles on reaching the top and found we finally have signal after 2 days! Amazing how quickly one begins to suffer withdrawal symptoms without internet or phone! So we both sent several messages to friends and family. Battery is discharging very quickly in this cold. At 5pm we are going to start the fairly long descent down the muddy track to get down into the Akkem valley where we will look for a stream and a flat area to make camp. I hope the rain stops. Time is now 8pm and we arrived here at this camp spot about half an hour ago in the rains which continued continuously during the entire descent down from the pass. Fortunately the rain has finally stopped and I spent the last half an hour searching under the huge orange-bark pines for dry firewood, but mostly everything is wet. The muddy track down the mountain side was very muddy and slippery and we made slow progress. Several of our group suffered falls and our legs are exhausted, covered in mud and feet and boots are soaked as well as my rucksack. When we reached a small plateau below the ridge, we came into a wild meadow of tall grasses and many different kinds of unusual plants and flowers. The path forked at the meadow and we had no idea which way to go as Pasha had forged ahead and left us behind. We followed the right-hand path and came across an old ruined log barn and ruined sheep-herder shelter surrounded by thick nettles. I heard cries of amazement from my companions ahead.. they had discovered a patch of cannabis growing wild near to the nettle patch and were busily gathering armfuls of cannabis and stuffing it into a plastic bag when I arrived. The sun is now shining from between the dark grey clouds and we’ve pitched the two tents on two small grassy patches on a slope. There is a nice mountain brook nearby and also I found some patches of wild raspberries and redcurrants which provided a small pre-supper snack. Arslan and Aliona are sitting and cracking pine-nuts with their teeth from the many cedar-cones they gathered – Arslan even climbed a small cedar tree and swung precariously like a monkey near the top whilst picking the purple heavy cedar-cones. It’s now very dark overcast night and we’re sitting round the glowing camp-fire drinking blackcurrant-leaf tea. We ate a supper of soup from packets Buillon and yellow lentils with some bread. Two more group of soaked and tired alpinists have arrived since. The first group of seven have made camp on the small grassy ridge just above us and the other group of three people put up their single tent off to the right. The second group are very unusual – three young long-haired hippies, two guys with beards and wearing home-made garb in American Indian style, complete with cowboy hat and staffs and walking round camp barefoot. I’ve never seen such alternative people in Russia in my life! Going now with Pasha to the other’s camp – they have invited us to their campfire for company, drinks and maybe some music too – seems they have a guitar. To be continued . . . |
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