July 22, 2022
To Kara-Kul I arrived by boat.
I walked to the village of Toktobek on the east side of Toktogul where the reservoir gets narrow and hitchhiked with Damir, who just visited his family in the village and was heading across to the big town of Kara-Kul, where he worked as a taxi driver. We parked his little motorboat and climbed up the massive Toktogul dam which is part of a series of dams in Kyrgyzstan, and provides a lot of hydroelectric power to Kyrgyzstan and neighboring countries.
I drove with Damir into town, and after finding a hotel we went out for some great Shashlik by one of the many small rivers that crisscross the landscape.
Back to the same routine of resting, then eating, resting and eating, a little resupply and right back on trail. Walking up the rarely used or maintained dirt roads, up, up, up the road.
As you climb up you see the environment changing: forests turn into lonely trees, turn into bushes, turn into brush, turn into grassland and low alpine vegetation. Leaving town I find smaller and smaller villages, then single houses, then yurt camps, and lonely yurts which become rarer and rarer, large fields turn into small private gardens turn into Jailo (pasture land). The hills, even at high elevation, are teeming with goats, cows, horses and a few donkeys.
A long day of climbing up to the mountain pass, walking by one lake after another, Kyrgyzstan is a land full of lakes, small, big, and huge almost everywhere you go.
As I was going down, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains and thinking to myself “I got another hour til it’s completely dark, maybe I’ll reach the river”, I hear shouting from up the hill to my left. I look and I see a guy waving his hands and shouting in my direction. I wave back to him but continue walking. Then I see him starting to run down the hill maybe two or three hundred meters all the way down from his tent to the trail where I was walking. He reached me and told me to come with him, come to his tent. I told him I have another hour to walk and I want to get to that river, but he insisted, told me no no tonight you’re going to sleep in my camp and tomorrow you will continue. All in Russian of course. When we got to his camp he introduced me to his wife and his baby boy. Sadly I can’t recall their names but I can’t forget their hospitality and generosity, as you can expect in the mountains of Kyrgyzstan.
We ate dinner together. They set me up with a place to sleep in one of the two tents they had which seemed like the guest tent as the rest of the family slept in the main tent where the kitchen and the dining area were. Before going to sleep my guest went out and collected his herds from the South side of the mountain leading them all to a rounded fenced area just outside the tent – a few hundred goats crammed in a very small location protecting each other from the cold and the wolves lurking around.
Dinner was bread and jam, some butter tea and warm milk and a rice dish with potatoes. A nice change from my own cooking and a nice surprise since it’s usually pretty rare to find rice in the mountains. I woke up and shared a breakfast of leftovers from dinner with the family and was led to the spring to fill up my water and then directed to the bathroom, which as normal in the mountains of Kyrgyzstan, is a hole in the ground surrounded by a sheet tied to four poles to give you some privacy and topped by two planks of wood where you can put your feet and squat.
I said thank you and forced the family to accept my money which was hard for them, but I think was the right thing to do. A small way to contribute and say thank you (or at least make me feel a little better). It does seem that the company of a foreign traveler, especially someone playing music on a ukulele, is greatly appreciated. I said my goodbyes and headed down to the river, following a narrow footpath then started my way up the valley and towards Holy Lake. The way was hard and especially hot, so so hot. Many hours later when I finally reached the lake I couldn’t bother taking my clothes off and jumped directly in the water with my shoes, barely making sure to take everything out of my pockets before jumping in. I even had my hat still on.
After a long rest at the lake I turned around and kept walking. I climbed up to the next pass heading south. It was gorgeous. Finally leaving the wide dirt roads and hillside and entering narrow cliffs and rock faces surrounded by unbelievable nature and again being grateful for where I am and what I’m doing.
I reached the pass just as it was getting dark and found a flat spot to pitch my tent at the very top.
Sleeping on the pass
I love sleeping on the pass. You get unbelievable views and you don’t have to start the next day with a climb. Also sometimes it might be very difficult to find any flat spot on the mountainside, which is usually available at the top of the pass.
But you definitely have to be prepared for it: make sure that you are well acclimated to the elevation you’re going to sleep at; make sure you have the right tent and the right gear because you will definitely face a lot of wind and very possibly rain or maybe snow; have enough water. Generally, although water is in abundance, on the passes it may be very hard to find any so make sure to collect enough water before you start the climb.
So of course I forgot to get water and had to camp. Was definitely a little thirsty and sad that I couldn’t cook and have a warm meal but I made it through. The next day I took a long descent all the way down to the large village of Arslanbob famous for its waterfalls, and walnut forest.
Trying to find my way from Arslanbob towards the east and through some contacts I made during my time in Michigan I got connected to Husnidin, a local tour guide who has his own guest house tour company and a really big heart. I stayed at his place for one night and talked with him for hours trying to understand the surrounding area and the way going forward.
I headed out the next day visiting one of the famous waterfalls and walking straight through the walnut forest and even sleeping a night in between those huge trees. In the morning I arrived at the village of Kyzil-Unkor which translates from Kyrgyz to-” Red Caves”, named after the beautiful red sandstone formation prevalent in the valley.
And Now it’s time for a break…. this time it’s a long one.
I’ve got visitors!
