Walking In Kyrgyzstan (Part 1 Of 2)
WALKING IN KYRGYZSTAN (Part 1 of 2)
Three of us, all no longer of working age, recently joined a group of 12 in total to trek in the Tian Shan mountains in Kyrgyzstan. Of the 12 in the group, we were the oldest (and slowest), most of the others being young people in their late 20s. By the end of the trip they were in fact in awe of us and insisted their parents would never have been able to undertake the trek!
Kyrgyzstan, officially the Kyrgyz Republic is a small landlocked country in central Asia. It is bordered by Kazakhstan to the north, Uzbekistan to the west, Tajikistan to the south and China to the east. Kyrgyzstan was formerly part of the Soviet Union and declared independence from the USSR in 1991. It is farther from the sea than any other individual country and is an endorheic basin in which all its rivers flow into closed drainage systems which do not reach the sea.
The country is approximately the size of Great Britain without Northern Ireland, 91% of which is over 1,000m high. Peak Jengish Chokusu, at 7,439 metres is the highest point and is considered by geologists to be the northernmost peak over 7,000m. Although geographically isolated by its high mountainous terrain, Kyrgyzstan has been at the crossroads of several great civilisations as part of the Silk Road.
Tourism is slowly developing in the country with skiing and trekking in the mountains being the main attractions. It was obvious that the government is developing substantial infrastructure in readiness for the country to further open up with major road building taking place.
We underwent a long drive from Bishkek, the capital, to Karakol in the east which is the stepping stone for both hiking in the summer and skiing in the winter. Hence we feel able to comment first hand as to the state of the roads as our minibus was not only lacking in leg room but also shared with us every bump and pothole in the road!
The first 2 days were walking through, around and among incredible enormous fluted red sandstone rock formations (Molasse) set in large meadows where the Kyrgyz people still take their large flocks of fat-bottomed sheep, cattle and horses up to the summer pastures, staying in yurts.
We stayed our first night trekking in a small settlement of yurts alongside a river where we were fortunate to be able to have a banya, (a traditional Russian steam bathhouse), and then spent the following 4 nights under canvas. There was an expectation that we put up and packed up our own tents and it was interesting to see that this was a skill not commonly known among the whole group! All of the campsites were alongside the river or a lake and despite the ever-decreasing temperature as we climbed, there were a couple in the group who continued to enjoy cold water plunges until the water temperature apparently dropped to 4 degrees! (For those interested, ablutions were in the freezing meltwater river or lakes and the use of long-drops.) As well as the 12 of us, we had a guide, 2 assistant guides and 2 horsemen who were responsible for our 8 pack horses which carried our bags, the tents, enough food for us all for the trek and our rubbish! Packing the horses in the morning was a tremendous skill.
After the first 2 days, we left the molasse rocks behind us as we joined the Silk Road and climbed steadily along the Gulcha River through a very wide glacial valley with great meadows fringed by strange, pointed conifers with round bases and black kites soaring overhead, glimpses of snow-capped mountains ahead. The valley got steadily less wide as we climbed but there were still large herds of livestock and their attendants on horseback with the obligatory shepherd dog.
A highlight was stopping at a yurt alongside a river crossing one lunchtime where we were treated to an enormous freshly made fluffy naan bread and a tub of fresh buttermilk which we passed around tearing off a chunk of bread and dipping it into the buttermilk. Delicious! It made a nice change from potato and cabbage stew or plov – a local version of paella.
Our second to last campsite was in a buttercup festooned meadow alongside a lake accessed by crossing the river on horseback. Unfortunately, the weather on the last day was typically Welsh requiring full waterproofs and was made more miserable as we were walking up over the pass on a very shaley path. Sadly, that meant that the incredible views were not for us. I was fortunate enough to look sufficiently exhausted, very much feeling the lack of oxygen, and was offered one of the pack horses to carry me over the pass! I was not about to refuse (what I considered) a gift horse in the mouth.