Jenny Paterson and Paul Stoddart
Everyone was silent as the bus trundled down the broad, well kept freeway from Moscow's Sheremetyevo Airport into the city. We had, after all, started on a trip that had been planned and anticipated for months - in fact, a year, almost, to the day since I first spoke to Andrey Ershov about a possible expedition to Siberia - and we wanted to take in all the new sights on this, our first visit to Russia.
Members of the group were: Jennifer Barron, Betty Davis, Tunney Kirk and Kate McCallum (Cape Town Section); Christel Jost (Stellenbosch Section); Hannie Low (Amajuba Section) her friend Lies Muller (non-member) who lives in Underberg, Paul Stoddart, former member of Johannesburg Section now resident in Australia, and I. In Moscow we were joined by Marina Ershova (wife of Andrey Ershov who co-ordinated both this and last year's Kuksay Expedition) and Dr Alexey Shalaev our official guide. In Barnaul we were joined by Alexandr (Sasha) Parchin who was to be our "local" guide and Roma, our cook.
Our destination: the Altai Mountains, one of the major mountain systems of the Asian part of Russia. These mountains lie at the junction of Russian South Siberia, China and Mongolia and are the source of two major Asian rivers, the Ob and Irtysh Rivers. Their highest point is a maze of rugged, heavily glaciated alpine ranges, deep gorges, beautiful lakes and high plateaux - home to a variety of animals, including the endangered snow leopard. There are many legends and puzzles connected with Altai, but one theory apparently attracts more and more followers. It is the legend of the existence, in Altai, of the gates to the kingdom of Shambala, hidden from the people. It is said that this kingdom will become the centre of a new civilisation after humankind, with its current unbridled passion for destruction, wipes itself out.
There is no vehicular access beyond the village of Tyungur, which for us was a two day, ±800 kilometre bus ride from Barnaul and thereafter a three day walk-in to the Akkem Lake where we were to set up base camp. Access to the lake is via two picturesque valleys, the Kucherla and Akkem, the slopes of which are covered with forests of spruce fir and pine, interspersed with grassy meadows. Higher in the mountains pine and fir trees give way to aspen, birch and finally larch and dwarf conifers. Along the paths one can see growth of tasty berries: red currants, raspberry, woodbine, whilst underfoot is a carpet of moss and mountain cranberry and wild strawberry. Mushrooms are found in large quantities and often form an integral ingredient on any mealtime menu!
The Altai region derives its name from a Mongol word - altan - meaning "golden" and the morning we started walking was truly that! Bright blue skies with cottonwool clouds, warm sun shone on happy faces as we sat after breakfast awaiting the arrival of the horses that would transport our baggage to base camp. We set off with our daypacks, heading up the Kucherla Valley and our horses going up the gentler Akkem Valley, happy in the knowledge that we would meet up with them again before sunset. We walked through glorious meadows and forests on paths next to the Katun River and were quickly introduced to the many kinds of berry that had the Russians foraging like squirrels at every bush and thicket!
And slowly but surely the white cottonwool clouds were turning into grey rain clouds that started dumping their contents during the course of the afternoon! We got to the appointed overnight stop where there was a sad absence of horses and baggage, food and all tents except Sasha's (homemade out of an old parachute but spacious and effective!) No problem - the horses must have left much later than we did! Mmmm - not quite, as it turned out. Marina eventually stopped a local family returning home after a three day hike, explained our predicament and was generously given the remainder of their food: one packet of oats! which was better than nothing. In no time Alexey and Sasha had a fire going (yes, they still make wood fires!) and everyone emptied out the contents of their daypacks and came up with the oddest assortment of things - some, like nuts, dried fruit and apples that could be added to the porridge- and others (chocolate, nougat) that definitely would be kept for breakfast if we survived the rainy night under the Siberian skies without tents, sleeping bags and warm clothes! Whilst Marina was cooking Sasha set off on a recce, Alexey had a definite loss of humour and kept on muttering "Not good this. Not good this!"
At about 8 pm Sasha came back with good and bad news: the good news was that he had found our horses; the bad news was that they were up on the ridge behind us! Because of the steep slope and slippery path, the horses couldn't come to us but we could (and would!) definitely go to them. This was achieved with some difficulty as it was dark and still drizzling, but we were all happy to be reunited with the horse drivers, horses, Roma, our tents and baggage.
Intermittent rain fell for the next two days. We ascended and descended paths thick with mud! My word, the mud! Thick, gooey, dirty grey mud. We slithered and slid; in mist, out of mist; eating, pitching and striking tents in rain and mist until we got to the Akkem Lake where again our wet tents were pitched in light drizzle and the threat of heavier rain to come. We were delighted at the prospect of the next day being a rest day and the knowledge of getting and staying out of our mud-encrusted pants was attractive. About 200 metres from camp, nestling in the forest, was a sauna (banya) and Marina promptly made a booking for us for later that night - it was a joyful experience and we wallowed for the entire hour allocated to us! For supper Roma prepared a delicious borscht which was consumed with relish! It was a cold first night but our sleeping bags had miraculously kept dry!
The gods were good to us the next day: it was a spectacularly WOW! day. The sun shone brightly, the mountains surrounding the lake (which had been draped in mist when we arrived the previous day) were clear of mist and cloud and reached high up to the sky. In the distance was the awesome, beautiful, snow-topped, ice face of the Akkem Wall, nearly vertical and more than a 1 000m high and what is called the Pic Delone-Belukha-Altai Crown cirque. Looking from left to right we stared at Delone (4 070m), Belukha East (4 506m) (one of our goals where we hoped to fly the South African flag for the first time), Belukha West (4 460m) and Altai Crown (4 167m) all shimmering like ice castles in the morning sun. On the right and closer to us was the dark mound of Bronya Peak (3 250m) (another of our goals). On the left was Karaouk (3 500m) and in the centre running down to the lake the vast Akkem Glacier!
After a late lunch the group dispersed in different directions to do their
own thing: Marina and some of us went for a walk along the lake shore; Paul
disappeared up the mountain behind the camp and much later met up with the small
group returning from their walk; someone else - who had been told that returning
mountaineers dump unwanted equipment - went fossicking about the rubbish dump
in the forest, hopeful of gaining some treasure! On our return we found Roma
preparing varenykya - small pastries filled with spiced mashed potato which
are then boiled in salted water - and, led by Marina, Paul and Lies pushed up
their sleeves and took over whilst Roma was left with the job of attending to
the soup! Sacha's younger brother Anton (at 21 also an experienced mountaineer)
had arrived - he was later persuaded to join us as an additional local guide
as Sacha (with five successful summits of Mt Belukha) would be leading the team
going to Mt Belukha.
We awoke the next day to yet another glorious day and were rowed across the
lake to spend the day exploring the Yarlu Valley. When we could go no further
up the valley, we elected to go up and over a (benign-looking) ridge dividing
two valleys rather than retrace our seps - a ridge that turned out instead to
be a steep, horrible pile of choss! Everyone made it to the top safely with
only some loss of humour in the effort to get there! On our way back we came
across a clearing about 50 metres in diameter in the centre of which was an
enormous rock that had various symbols painted on it and surrounded by numerous
mounds of stones (similar to cairns) of varying heights. On one of these was
a pole flying a small, unusual flag. We learnt that this was a sacred site for
followers of Nicolas Roerich, the Russian poet and philosopher, and that two
weeks earlier, at full moon, many followers had congregated there for the weekend.
There was another such site, smaller, on the North-Western shore of the Akkem
Lake as well. We weren't able to find out much about Roerich until our return
when I did some research and was disappointed that I had known nothing about
whilst I was there!
[One of the peaks surrounding the Akkem Lake is called Roerich Peak (3 492m), named after Roerich, and climbed by Ulrike Kiefer, Alex Harris, Sean Disney, and Herman Vogl in 1993 (see Alex Harris' article entitled "Back in the USSR" - MCSA Journal, 1993)].
Another cold night back in camp and I started sharing my sleeping bag with cameras and spare batteries!
The next day we set off to climb Bronya Peak. We headed up the beautiful Valley of Seven Lakes, past a succession of waterfalls until we got to the inevitable glacial moraine and ultimately the glacier itself and easy enough to cross. Then the scrambling began! Up scree, rocks, more scree and more rocks. Our backpacks were left at a lunch spot about halfway up and we eventually summited at 3.20 pm. We enjoyed the spectacular views from the top, especially of Mt Belukha and the gargantuan Akkem Glacier! The retreat of the glacier is clearly visible from above; Sasha estimated that it is receding at a rate of up to 100m a year. We left a summit note under a rock and took heaps of photos! A South African first!
A satisfied, happy group returned to base camp to find that Alexey - now fully recovered - had cooked us a celebratory dinner of plov, which was a pilaff based on wild goat. We learnt from the amused group that Roma, banished from his kitchen, had been sent off to the village down the valley (10 kilometres away) to try and find more Vodka! Sergei was allowed some tasks and Kate, her cold scared off by the numerous "doses" of Vodka (she claimed it was for medicinal purposes, prescribed by Alexey!) had been relegated to the menial tasks of washing dirty spoons and scraping carrots! Whatever had happened there, the end result was superb and served with great aplomb! A clean plastic tablecloth was spread across the table boards. We were formally requested by a serious (?) Alexey to "please be seated". Once all were seated Sergei brought across this enormous cast iron skillet filled to the brim with food. Under Alexey's guidance and to our utter amazement Sergei upended the skillet and spilled the contents onto the tablecloth - to spontaneous applause (in their intoxicated state our food could well have ended up on the mud under the table!) Alexey and Sergei each took up a large spoon and mixed the contents that was truly delicious. It was a lighthearted meal, and we only became serious again when the "Mt Belukha summit team" starting discussing logistics for the next day. Paul and I were silently hoping that the good weather would hold out, but this was not to be!
We left base camp at about 9.30 am the next morning. Anton rowed us across the lake in the rickety old boat, aptly named "Akkem", as it let in water as fast as one baled it out! Walking around on the eastern shore skilfully by-passed the mud of the west bank and saved us from crossing the swiftly flowing river where it entered the lake. A torrent of glacial melt water, over a metre deep, is best avoided, even on a sunny Siberian summer's morning! We followed a well-marked path along the valley for about 3 km until we reached the glacial moraine. This consists of an enormous heap of huge, jagged boulders, chiselled from the heights above by the forces of water and ice. From here it was steep going for 2 km, with the rough path soon giving way to boulder hopping. The route became a little easier once we reached Akkem glacier, which we followed for a further 3 km to Tomsk Bivouac (3 200m), a very well constructed aluminium-clad wooden haven, as we were soon to find out! The storm clouds that had steadily been building up over the past few hours suddenly deepened and darkened and soon rain started pelting down. The immensely strong Marina was already pitching tents and had also established that there was space in the hut for Betty and I. No sooner had Paul and Alexey pitched their tent than the storm broke in earnest. We couldn't see the lightning but the thunder rolled all around us whilst the storm raged on furiously. By this time there must have been about 18 people in the hut, including a kid who had carried his guitar in! A climber came into the hut quite late and said that his friend was still climbing on the wall, directly below Mt Belukha. The friend eventually crashed into the hut just after midnight and anyone who wasn't woken by that, certainly was woken up when he dropped his ropes and harness with all the attached climbing hardware onto the wooden floor! And still the storm raged on. Sleep was fitful that night . . . the wind howled and hit the hut like an unstoppable train.
I had decided not to continue beyond this point. Having gazed at the nearby tributary of the Akkem Glacier that must easily have been the height of a five storey building, and the pass beyond that, I knew that I was too inexperienced in such conditions to continue. Betty would go no further either. On going outside the next morning, I knew (despite being deeply disappointed) that I had made the right decision as it had started snowing during the night and a fresh covering of snow was all around, the wind was still blowing gales and there was no doubt that the storm would continue that day - which it did, and only blew itself out during the night.
We awoke next morning to a glorious day: bright, crisp blue skies and wispy white clouds scurrying about . After a quick breakfast, Betty and I were ready to head on down, back to base camp. The others certainly did not expect to see us back so soon and ignored our attempts to attract their attention from the opposite side of the lake! A kind Ukranian rowed us across the lake again and at base camp we found Kate, Hannie, Lies and Christel gambling away, the booty being the tomato sauce, mayonnaise, anything from the kitchen that they could lay their hands on! We had some of Roma's delicious soup and fell into bed. Despite being thoroughly tired, sleep came slowly that night as I thought about the day itself and the others high up on the mountain … It had been a long day: heavy going finding our way down the glacier. Initially we had walked along the crest to the end where there was not too bad a drop-off. Then through the rocks; unending glacier dumps. We allowed ourselves short stops only - I was convinced that if I took my pack off I wouldn't put it back on again! After the storm the day before the river was about three times the width it had been when we set out and we ended up walking upstream for about half an hour before we were able to cross without fear of being swept away in the strong current!
I spent the next day quietly in camp whilst the others went walking up the Kucherla Valley. Well, that was the intention! They apparently all fell in a heap at the spot where Betty and I had crossed the river the previous day. It was sunny and protected, and they quietly persuaded Hannie that she really didn't want to go any further. Anton eventually gave up trying to get them going again and instead threw himself at some rocks for some bouldering - possibly to get rid of the frustration of having to take care of a bunch of babushkas!
Paul takes up the story:
Alexey was embarrassed to discover that his tent leaks, particularly when pitched
over a puddle! This slight annoyance was soon fixed by the simple expedient
of allowing a gust of wind to carry the tent away and break one of the poles!
As Jenny and Betty would not go any further, we happily borrowed Jenny's tent.
During a break in the weather, we left Tomsk Bivouac and walked eastward up
Akkem Glacier to the headwall that forms Delone Pass, with Delone Peak and Belukha
to the south. Delone Pass requires six pitches of ice climbing at an easy grade
(about 45E) with good protection from ice screws. However, as my first experience
of ice-climbing, it seemed well-nigh vertical to me. From the Pass we could
remove our crampons and drop down to Mensu Glacier. We moved alpine style on
all steep or crevassed sections of glaciers. By this late stage in the season,
snow bridges were well established so it was relatively easy to cross crevasses.
We proceeded south for about 1km across the glacier before starting up the long
slope that leads to TKT Pass (pronounced Tickatay). At the first major plateau
(Berilsky Saddle - 3 520m), about 300 metres above Mensu Glacier, we set up
camp. A higher campsite was rejected because of deteriorating weather. We were
in our tents from about 4 pm, having left Tomsk Bivouac at 9 am.
Next morning we checked the weather for an early start but decided to wait. Several inches of snow had fallen during the night. We struggled to boil water for our morning tea as the stove slowly died down. Eventually we couldn't even use the lighter, at which point our dopey heads finally realized that there was no more oxygen left in the tent! I'd been putting my breathlessness down to "high-altitude lassitude", whereas all we needed to do was give the tent a good shake and remove the crust of snow! At 9 am we started up towards TKT Pass in white-out conditions, but turned back after half an hour when visibility remained poor. I found the fresh snow quite disconcerting, as it very effectively hid several nearby crevasses that I'd noticed the day before. The rest of the day was spent in camp with generally poor weather, drinking tea and throwing the occasional snowball at the other tent where Marina and Sasha were snoozing. This all suited my tired legs very well.
The weather next morning was partly cloudy but visibility was good, so we started at 6am and, with the Russians setting a typically cracking pace, we soon reached the alternative high camp below TKT Pass. Set in a dramatic cirque, this looked quite comfortable, with waist-high walls of compacted snow protecting the tent-sites. At this point we put on crampons and climbed a crevassed snow slope directly towards the ridge to the north of TKT Pass. This route, called Beluchinsky Pass, provides a more direct - although steeper - route to the summit. The final ascent to gain the ridge requires just over two pitches of ice climbing with poor protection from ice axe and ice screw belays (the slope was again about 45E). Once on the ridge, there was another 200m of height to be gained on mixed rock and ice to the summit. This was technically quite easy, but was made difficult by the cold, gusting wind. We reached the summit at 12.30 pm on Friday, 23 August 2002. Unfortunately the visibility was poor, with only an occasional glimpse of the neighbouring peaks through the cloud. The temperature on the summit was -5EC, but we estimated about -25EC with wind chill (for a 60 kilometre per hour wind). The gusts could have been up to 90kph. We left a summit note in the aluminium "canister", took photographs and returned to camp by 2 pm. The view opened up on the descent, with a fantastic vista out over Mensu Glacier (the longest in the Altay range) and into the unexplored valleys to the south.
Having made great inroads into our food supplies whilst stuck in the tents the day before, everyone was keen to get down now. We soon struck camp and retraced our steps to Tomsk Bivouac. The night was spent in the hut, which by now had a whole new collection of colourful characters to entertain us. We returned to base camp by the same route down the Akkem glacier. Rather than take our chances on finding the boat, Sasha led us to a cable slung cross the river. The icy torrent was now only waist high and, by walking fast, the pain only struck me when I was half way across. The communal attitude of Russians mountaineers was evident from the abundant collection of damp, abandoned takkies lying around. By hurling these tatty wretches back over the river after each crossing, we all managed to keep our boots dry and our feet intact.
I found the climb a fantastic introduction to snow and ice conditions and was particularly fortunate to be accompanied by three extremely strong and experienced mountaineers. There had clearly been a misunderstanding at some point, and Sasha seemed relieved afterwards to discover that I was inexperienced rather than plain clumsy. Whatever the case, I was thrilled to accept an ice screw as a memento of the first South African ascent. The range also offers scope for many more challenging routes, particularly on the huge Akkem Wall above Tomsk Bivouac.
Jenny continues with the story:
The successful summit team returned to camp amidst huge excitement!
Later that afternoon Alexey broke the news that there were no horses to take out our baggage the next day! The last of the horses had left the valley the day before and we would have to carry our stuff down in stages! We enjoyed a wonderful banya in true tradition, crashing into the cold lake no less than three times! Hannie was persuaded to join us for the last cold plunge but as we ran down to the lake she remained unconvinced that she was doing the right thing and was only silenced when she hit the cold water!
Light rain was falling again the next morning as we prepared to leave. We discussed what we would carry ourselves and what would be left behind as Sasha, Anton and Roma would carry out the bulk of the stuff. We discovered that Marina had left camp very early with Sasha, each carrying an enormous load. Anton and Roma followed soon thereafter. We watched in fascination as Alexey heaved a pack that must have weighed 30 kilograms on to his back, and we all set off carrying packs of varying weights. Marina and Sasha returned to fetch the balance - covering a distance of some 30 kilometres that day! Our camp that night was in amongst the trees beside the Akkem River and we soon became used to the noise of the rushing water. Sitting by the campfire in the evening listening to the mysterious sounds of the forest was something special, and not much was spoken. Again the next day there were no horses so we repeated the exercise of the day before, but only for a short distance this time. We were to leave our luggage in a clearing in the forest, Anton would sit guard and we continued on our way - we were to cover between 16 and 20 kilometres that day. The muddy path led us through the thick forest and then eventually into some beautiful, wide meadows with an abundance of wild flowers. The trees were beautiful as the leaves were rapidly changing to glorious Autumn colours. We stopped at a hut which we named Shepherd's Hut to have shelter for the night should the horses not arrive! We all gathered firewood and Alexey cooked up a delicious meal of gerikha - boiled barley to which was added bully beef, onion and spices.
The horses did not arrive.
After supper everyone sat around for a while until it became too cold and we
sorted out sleeping arrangements in the four square metre hut! Alexey at some
stage crept into the hut and covered us up with sleeping bags which Anton, had
gone back to fetch. It was a cold night and sleep was fitful.
The horses eventually caught up with us in Tyungur late the following afternoon
- in answer to our prayers that this would happen before we left by bus for
Barnaul! We had walked to the local general dealer's store and had bought some
wine, beer and vodka so were quite relaxed about both the horses and our baggage!
Now for the bus! (It seemed that for several days our lives had revolved around
waiting for something to arrive!) The bus eventually arrived at 12.30 pm having
had two flat tyres en route and only one spare! Another was duly despatched
from Barnaul, for which they had to wait several hours.
But the fun and games weren't over yet! The bus driver had refused to drive across the rickety bridge so we had to carry our luggage to the other side of the river where it was parked! We eventually left, dodging pigs and cows and horses and children, but weren't mobile for very long before the engine cut out. After several attempts to start the bus, we were again on our way. The pattern of cut out, cool down, start up was repeated several times and we eventually all settled back thinking that we were finally on our way, when suddenly smoke started billowing from the dashboard. It was only an hour since we had left, we had hardly covered 20 kilometres, Barnaul was still almost 800 kilometres away and the bus' manual was in German!!
Thank God for Alexey whose knowledge of engines was almost as good as his medical knowledge, and obviously a darn sight better than the combined knowledge of the two bus drivers! After fiddling and faddling he short-circuited the electrical system and we continued without further incident to Barnaul, sans indicators, brake lights and later we discovered to our horror, headlights!
We all sat down after 11 pm that night to our hugely delayed farewell dinner. Betty was instructed on the correct way to drink Vodka - it was as well that we only had two or three bottles of the stuff - and it was a mottley crew that got up at five the next morning to go to the airport for the flight back to Moscow! and it was with some nostalgia that we bade farewell to Sasha and Anton who had gone out to the airport to see us off.
The next few days were spent in Moscow and St Petersburg doing the tourist thing. We bade another nostalgic farewell to Paul at the hotel, and then to Andrey and Marina who saw us off at the main train station. Another highlight of our trip, for me, was surely the sleeper train to and from St Petersburg! What a delight before the inevitable killing of time in airports, waiting for the planes that would ultimately bring us back to South Africa - filled with indelible memories of this wonderful experience!
Service provider:
Ersh Travels, Fontanka 64-63, 191002 ST. PETERSBURG, Russia.
e.mail: ershov@mail.wplus.net
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