Krygyzstan Part 4.4 - Tashkoro

27/07/18, Day 6

With our excellent camp spot right next to the launch we had the luxury of a leisurely morning to relax and enjoy the sun. There was a fair bit of cloud around and the forecast we managed to pick up was for a risk of thunder. It looked grand though and we were away by 11, working our way up the valley, along the ridge in fairly mellow climbs with base around 4000m.  

It was quite cool today (I should have put my fleece on!) and my hands suffered. After circling around at base waiting for Seb to climb out we pushed on over the col, staying on the edge of the bigger mountains, with a safe margin for the building clouds (which threatened to build occasionally but then petered out). Seb got low again and I had a nice cruise around the rocky face of the mountain while I waited for him to gain height. I wanted to push on to the next col but with communication being a bit of an issue without radios, when Seb disappeared off down the valley to the south I dutifully followed. Seb found a new friend with a vulture sticking on his tail as we went exploring, and his pal came and joined me for a while. We skirted down the edge of the valley slowly losing height and the climbs getting scrappier and broken. Seb eventually landed out on the open valley floor. I found a nice climb as I was heading down to join so went on a wee tour of the valley before dropping in too. 

There was a big gathering for the landing party with the usual kids and quite a few others out for the show. It was a nice gathering and an interesting mix of friendly faces. The valley was stunning; a lost world, enclosed on all sides with a deep ravine opening out into a beautiful giant amphitheatre, dotted with yurts and shacks. 

We chilled in the sun for a while, before being invited back for chai and food, where we were treated to a delicious meal. There was the usual bread and cream, but followed by some ribs of lamb, hunks of fat (the delicacy it would seem) and a really tasty broth, rich in marrow juices. And no fermented milk!

Satisfied, we left to hike up for a high camp, with a quick wash in the river on the way. The river was an obstacle that we needed to cross. No problem however, we were transported across on horseback! Heading up the side valley, we had another warm welcome at the next home we passed. We turned down the chai but they insisted we took a fresh bread (#2 that day). It wasn't much further when we passed the next home and another warm welcome. These guys had a yurt though so we accepted the invite and finally got ourselves into a proper yurt! Lovely habitations and we were again treated to more delicious food, this time served up a thick soup with potatoes and barley (I think) with a little sour cheese which complemented it nicely. They'd seen us flying over and I got to see a video of myself up above! It was great to be able to show them an aerial shot of their yurt. We finished the day with 3 loaves of bread. 

28/07/18, Day 7

Our last day in the mountains; our goal: get back to Osh. We didn't have too long a hike in the morning to work our way up and along the ridge to a decent, grassy slope to take off from. With good cycles coming through on the approach, it was surprisingly slow to climb out the valley and we had to patiently work our way upwards, eventually finding good climbs right above the huge rock face that disappeared into the ravine at the foot of the lost valley. Hunting for a climb, with the ground dropping away so suddenly and precipitously below was immensely intimidating and exhilarating; I was certainly happy when I was able to put some height between myself and the drop! 

Another huge slab of rock awaited us on the other side of the next valley. A great summit of bare, yellow rock that we tentatively skirted our way around under the clouds enshrouding the top, feeling very very small. Storms were building deeper in the mountains, so we made good our escape, pointing our noses out into the plains for the long relaxed glide towards Osh. There were some enticing clouds set up over some small hills near the town we were heading towards and I connected nicely in a good climb, with visions of flying most of the way back to Osh (halfway was surely possible at least!). As I watched Seb disappear below and then start spiralling down to land however I followed suit. With rain starting to push out from the mountains it was either land or fly away. As tempting as it was to see how far I could get I didn't want to do it alone! So another long descent and I touched down with Seb, just outside the small town of Beyru, only 20km south of Osh. 

The kids gathered around us as usual, but it was a different crowd; this group was dominated by giggling girls who took great delight in pulling contorted faces at us! 

My flights:

Krygyzstan Part 4.3 - Alay Valley

24/07/18, Day 3

No-one was up particularly early, but there were less kids in the room than when we'd gone to sleep. We had a very pleasant breakfast of potato stuffed dumplings while we  conversed in a round about way with our host and her friend. The Kyrgyzs hospitality continues to astound us and to be invited so unhesitatingly to stay in ones home, fed and watered, left us feeling deeply humbled. We left with a big bag of apricots from the garden and headed to the river for a much needed wash and a cheeky morning beer. 

Next up, the high South. 

We started waiting for a mashrooka going that way, but when the offer of a taxi came along at a reasonable price, we took it up and arranged a ride all the way to Daroot Korgon at the Western end of the southern valley, near the border with Tajikistan - a couple of hours drive away. 

Up and over the pass, we entered a different world as we dropped down to Saray Tash: a bleak, windswept, frontier town of drab colours and ramshackle buildings. Giant mountains towered above the sparsely vegetated plain. It immediately felt inhospitable. When we stopped for a short break out on the plain, the howling, turbulent wind that swept along the valley floor did nothing to assuage this feeling. What are we doing here we wondered. Is this somewhere we really want to fly?! 

7000m mountains just over the border with Tajikistan

The terrain got drier and more arid as we headed west. Our driver dropped us off at the start of a narrow gorge on the edge of town and with some trepidation we entered the mountains, modestly aiming for an early morning fly down to town while we tried to work out the weather patterns. Our packs were heavy, but the gorge was beautiful and with nervous excitement we got deeper into the mountain domain. 

Up ahead, we watched a rider on a donkey detour from the path to where his dog was barking at the cliff edge. Intrigued we strained to see what was happening. The guy was thrusting a large branch into a hole, evidently trying to flush something out while the dog sat patiently beside. A flash of brown and the dog pounced, scuffling around with something in the dust. Just in front of us, the dog appeared on the far side of the river, and released a marmot from its jaws into the cold flow. The marmot crawled onto a rock, baring its teeth, and the dog retreated to the side, placidly looking on. The guy on the donkey carried on down the valley and we began to wonder if the whole episode was just for sport. The dog however, knew exactly what it was doing. After a while, the exhausted marmot, chilled from the river, made a sluggish effort to get away and the dog pounced for the kill, squeezing the life out of it with its jaws before disappearing off to enjoy its kill in privacy. An expert demonstration of efficient hunting. 

Face off 

The optimistic plan was to fly east over 3 days back to Sary Tash. Unsure if it would be flyable at all however, we were aiming for a takeoff that had the option of a glide down to the valley floor. We found a suitable ridge on the map, and what looked like a nice gradual approach round the back, following a river (and all important water source) and avoiding the steep ascent we'd initially planned. 

To add to the general feeling of "what the **** are we doing here!?" we were hiking up the gorge in the afternoon with the wind howling down the gorge into our faces. Not the classic valley breeze system we thought we understood and a baffling (and concerning) one to try and work out. 

A group of kids caught us up in the valley, and with barely a word exchanged between us, had a great time taking selfies and film grabs as they walked along besides us. We were definitely novel specimens in this valley. 

With a good few kms behind us and the day fading, we left the main gorge and headed up the side system to loop back south towards our target. We climbed up, following the river, but as we came round the corner, we got a great, demoralising slap in the face. An impressive but unwelcome sight confronted us: a high, impassable couloir! There was no way through it, so tired and somewhat demoralised we made camp, squeezing our tents in on the sparse flat ground next to the river. 

You shall not pass

25/07/18, Day 4

Despite the obvious set back to our plans, we were still camped in a beautiful spot, nestled in amongst the steep walls of the surrounding valleys, with a peek of the 5000m rock face overlooking all to the north (the optimistic goal!). 

Flying back to Daroot Korgon was out the question. There was one option available however.....Go deeper! It would have been a brave move, but half-entertaining it and wanting to check out the views anyway I set off for a morning jaunt to ascend the ridge behind us to see what was what. A few early wafts disturbed the still morning air as I climbed up and a pair of vultures tentatively tested the first up drafts - a promising sign. Up on the ridge line I had the height to appreciate the lay of the land and was satisfied to see that, yes, I had interpreted the map correctly, and Seb - for all his passion and inability to see it "ANY OTHER WAY" - was in fact, wrong. Which meant there was a way to fly out! Albeit committing and by no means guaranteed to work - but flyable and with some landing options. I let myself get a little excited and bounded back down to camp with the good news. Seb, sensibly enough however, was unswayed by my enthusiasm, and I was by no means disappointed to have an excuse not to give it a go. 

Pick out the line...

So up we packed, and headed back down the gorge to Daroot Korgon for another go somewhere else. It was a more enjoyable hike on the way back down, and we had a lovely pilau for lunch (served up by a delightful host in the only restaurant in town - housed in a shipping container, the ubiquitous local building choice) before taxi-ing it back to Sary Tash. 

Challenging skies

Sary Tash was somewhat of a surprise. We encountered the only other tourists we came across (and there was quite a few of them!) - predominantly cyclists tackling the Pamir highway and a few overland vehicles and motorbikes. With the brooding weather, drab light and frontier town feel, it really did paint a bleak (but interesting) picture. We seemed to hang out there for an unnecessary amount of time however, eating biscuits and chatting to an entertaining Irish man, before we embraced our next hike and headed north out of town to camp below a nice ridge line we planned to fly in the morning, sharing our valley and muddy water source with a big herd of yaks. 

Sary Tash

25/07/18 - Day 5

It was quite a cold, damp night and we were up early to get flying before the wind got out of hand. Gun shots occasionally reverberated around the valley, and we could see a few folk spread out on the other side of the valley hunting for what could only be marmots. As we approached the base of the ridge, the party had moved to its lower slopes, so not wanting to disturb their hunt we detoured to where one of the guys was waiting with the 4x4. A friendly smile greeted us as we approached, while he signalled to his buddy (a few hundred metres away up the slope) the presence of an unsuspecting marmot between us and the gun. Thankfully there was a bit of an angle between us, the marmot, and the high calibre rifle that seemed a tad over-powered for the poor marmots. The hunter closed in, raised his rifle and BANG! the bullet scudded across the grass, a concerningly close distance down the slope from us and well within range. The marmot looked on unperturbed. The hunter was intent on his target, quickly closed in and raised his rifle for another pop. This time the angle was far from sufficient; Seb and myself darted for the car as the guy fired. The bullet shot past within metres of us, a shard of shrapnel bouncing off the car. 

It was 8 am. 

The marmot ducked down into its burrow. 

We were in the air by 10, decent cycles coming up the slope and occasionally strong gusts coming from somewhere else (?!). Clouds were already building in the mountains to the north. Conditions were good though, if a bit feisty in places, and we had a nice half hour soaring and thermalling along the ridge. It switched in a moment though, and we suddenly found ourselves buffeted by rough, sinky air and we immediately headed out to the open valley floor outside Sary Tash. The picture had most definitely changed. Out in the flats, some booming thermals were popping off from some unrecognised source, and I couldn't help myself climbing in one to get a cracking view of the main valley (although disappointingly the monster peaks were lost in haze). As Seb alternated between big ears and spirals way down below me however, I saw sense and was soon doing the same to escape the climb I'd been mischievously enjoying moments before. It took a while, and a strong, turbulent wind was already in command on the valley floor as I came in to land around 10:40 am. I made my approach, praying not to get dumped in a down cycle. 5m above the ground, I felt the wing drop back..... Awwww sh*t! I came down with a bump but not mercilessly so. It had been an exciting morning. 

A big gaggle of kids soon descended upon us and the usual entertainment ensued as they posed in our gear, boxed sleeping bags and attempted to carry our laden packs. Back in Sary Tash we soothed our nerves with copious amounts of chai and an early lunch, then set about to find a ride back north and hopefully less formidable climes! It didn't take long and the mornings adventure was sealed as we made ourselves comfortable on pallets of water bottles in the back of a small truck. 

The sky seemed to soften remarkably quickly as we crossed the pass and it was under friendlier skies that we found our way to Tashkoro, just to the south-west of Gulcha where our southern adventure had started. 

We knew where we wanted to go, but the route up to the ridge through the dense grass was far from obvious. With people out on the slopes, cutting hay by hand (a torturous labour!) we knew there had to be tracks and paths however which thankfully we managed to locate. Our final leg was a beautiful traverse across the side of the steep ridge and we popped out on the ridge line to a flat grassy plateau, with a perfect south-easterly launch on the other side for the morning! 

My flight: