Krygyzstan Part 4.2 - Kizol-Kurgan

23/07/18

An early start and after breakfast down by the stream we began the hike up to the ridge, our eye on the south easterly face. We were soon lured off track by shouting kids, and dutifully followed them as they scampered ahead, leading us back to their camp. A party gathered to welcome us and we got out first taste of the delight that is fermented horse milk. Thankfully they didn't push it and we were surprised to find a girl in the camp that spoke excellent English. A photo shoot and some video later we pushed on, wary of the latening morning and the inevitably increasing wind. 

It was late morning by the time we reached the south east face. We were optimistic as we watched some vultures climb out in front as the cycles gently blew through. By the time we were ready however, the wind had moved more northerly and we had to shift round the corner to get into the wind, which was now coming through in much stronger bursts. I was away and into a windswept thermal, but with Seb struggling with a tangled line, I pushed out front to wait for him. There wasn't much happening. I searched down the ridge but was caught in the wind, and with any thermals being swept away, slope landed to make the sweaty hike back up. Seb was out of site, but he spotted me once in the air. I watched him hunt around, getting gradually lower, willing him not to drift round the corner and to get caught in the wind. Slope land I shouted to no avail! He sank too low, and in a strong wind had a bumpy landing at the base of the slope. I watched him come down safely though then settled in to wait for him to hike back up. 

The day was done, we'd missed our window by half an hour. A couple of kids rode up to our perch. It was all friendly banter until they started rifling too eagerly through our stuff and when they started making cut throat gestures we thought it a prudent time to make our departure. The wind had steadily increased with strong gusts making even walking a challenge. Following along the ridge top we inevitably passed a number of the canvas huts. We were insistently invited in at the first by a woman with her cute, shy daughter, warily surveying us from her side. Out came the horse milk and 2 generous bowl fulls were thrust upon us. "It'll make us strong". We made a valiant effort to get some of it down, not wanting to disappoint our generous hostess. She was busy though and continued with her chores, leaving us to savour the thick sour milk and ponder what the black spots floating on the surface might be. The bucket however was left with us and we sneakily emptied the bowls back whence it came. We had to insist hard that we were absolutely full and a refill was out of the question. 

Delicious!

5 minutes down the road, the next curious family greeted us on the path and out came the horse milk. We managed to convey we'd had our fill and shared only a small bowl-full between us. Clearly an insufficient amount, and a bottle was filled for us to take away. 

We were now just looking for an escape route out the hills, with an eye on heading south to explore. We followed the ridge to the end, with a nice in-to wind slope, where we hoped we'd be able to get away and fly down into the main valley and the road. The wind was still blowing through at strength at 7pm; we reasoned it surely had to drop with the sun, but given its strength earlier in the day we conservatively waited before we were sure it was light enough. It was dropping though and deep down I knew it was easily soarable at least half an hour before we took off. By the time we were in the air, it was dropping quickly and we barely managed a few beats of the ridge before I followed Seb as he headed for the narrow valley exit, out low in-front of me. Despite the constriction there wasn't a strong headwind and we popped out into more open terrain and then followed it left as it dropped down into the main valley. The valley opened up before us and we flew out at height into a surreal, postcard perfect landscape, the descending ridges and dry fields below glowing reds and yellows in the soft light, as the sun disappeared behind the hills. We couldn't have dreamed of a more stunning top to bottom! 

And that was just the beginning of the day's adventure. A large excited party gathered as we landed in a big field on a raised plateau to the side of the town. A couple of guys offered us a place to stay for the night but then left so with the kids leading the way we walked towards town in the dusk light. There wasn't much around, so we asked (in the usual mime) if there was somewhere to stay. Yes yes, you stay here! A hotel? we asked, unsure of the situation: Nyet (no). We'd best just go with it then we thought. We were invited into the home and settled into a room with a low mezzanine. Food we asked? Yes, of course! A friendly old lady was our hostess and we had a delicious dinner, stuffing ourselves with her lovely yeasty bread, a filo pastry type thing with a potato filling and of course, copious amounts of the excellent chai. Copious amounts of children also continued to swarm around us, and we had an entertaining time as they tried lifting our bags, tossed coins around and practiced a little English with them. It was getting late and myself and Seb were pretty tired so made our beds on the mezzanine, hoping that would signal we wanted to sleep. We were sleeping in the kids room and had found ourselves in a Kyrgyzstany slumber party! We might have been tired, but the kids certainly weren't. They settled down, then got up, the light was on off on off on, eventually off but then on came the TV in the adjacent room, unreasonably loud. We did our best to sleep, getting woken as kids curled up to sleep lying on our legs. Finally late on, things did settle down. 

Strong man competition

My flight: