The Big Hike

I arranged a guide through Azamat and the CBT office in Karakol for the hike up to Ala Kol lake and down the other side. My guide was to be a guy whose English name was Sancho. We set off around noon, and after taxiing in a beat up Audi (there are a ton of Audis in Kyrgyzstan—they’re all just two decades old at least) to the trailhead, we set off.

                                A quick word about this hike—it is harder than expected. I have a decent amount of hiking experience and even though I haven’t been at it a lot recently, I figured the experience was there. Turns out, it was exhausting. I was already sucking wind and taking frequent breaks on the first day, as the trail climbs brutally the last 300 meters of elevation. The scenery was spectacular, though. The first campsite is just below the tree line and it is very nice—a couple of big trash heaps from garbage hikers, but very nice otherwise. Sancho had food and a stove and it was a classic, refreshing evening camping in the high mountains.

Heading up, day 1

               The second day was a lot of brutal uphill, and unlike western trails that switchback to ease the strain, this one goes straight up the mountain. “Ok”, says the experienced hiker, “it’s just a question of fitness—clearly he’s not in shape”. I will 1.) rebut by saying that the CBT office said this would be a 10 hour day, and we finished in 9 and 2.) add that the difficulties are not strictly due to the climb, but due to a combination of altitude, poor footing (a lot off scree), and the steep trail. I consider myself a good amateur backpacker (comfortable with several days in the backcountry at a time) and this was one of my most difficult treks.

Raging Torrent of Death

Heading towards summit--that is the trail

                That being said, it is absolutely worth it if you are up to the task. The way up to the pass was spectacular. First, the lake (which was still partially frozen when I arrived in late June) was the archetypal alpine lake—deep blue and serene. The stormy clouds and the towering, snow covered peaks surrounding the lake only add to the atmosphere. Then, as we continued, Karakol peak and numerous glaciers, more massive than I have ever seen, came into view. It was an amazing feeling to stand on the trail, halfway between the peaks and the lake, and look around as the thin air and menacing clouds moved around just above us. 

The Zone of Danger

                After gasping my way to the summit of the pass and being rewarded with a correspondingly spectacular view, it was time to go down. This is my final word of caution (though if you are an alpinist or a truly experienced hiker, you’ll probably be fine)—the way down is no joke and in many ways harder and more dangerous than the way up. There was still snow just below the pass on the other side. After picking our way down through a bit of it, there was a sheet that we could not avoid. Sancho went first, digging footholes into the snow with his boots. I followed suit, trying to dig in where he already had, but of course my clumsy nature would not allow it.

                Beneath the snow is endless scree, and once I lost a strong foothold I was on the move, faster than expected. While some might think scree is a fun and quick way to get down a mountain, when mixed with snow, a very steep slope, and a lack of natural interruptions for 200 vertical meters it quickly becomes a major safety hazard. Luckily Sancho caught me and strung up a rope system with which we were

The entire slope

Starting Down

able to navigate our way down (I bit the dust several more times, which is bound to happen when you are 6’2”, 145 lbs, and generally ungainly). While I never felt that the situation was in danger of getting out of control (Sancho had things well in hand), it was clearly a high-hazard situation and potential hikers should approach it as such. It also highlighted the value of a CBT guide, because this was a technical piece of hiking that I could not have tackled on my own or with inexperienced companions.

                That being said, once we made it down, it was full speed through pastures and valleys and across streams (using a very bouncy downed tree, since the “danger bridge” was so dangerous it had been washed out) to the hot spring. The hot spring lived up to expectations. As Sancho said, it made my body forget all the difficulty of hiking. Though some people say that radiation provides the warmth, I could care less. If anything, that’s the good part—a little bit of radioactivity sure provides that warm glow you’re looking for after a long day on the trail. After slowly percolating for about 40 minutes, I went to the main building where meals were prepared for the hikers (contrary to my hopes, there were a lot of people at the springs) and enjoyed a plate of plov with Sancho and some other Kyrgyz guides and some of the hot spring staff. Later, we all got beers, and the “chief” of the hot springs challenged me to chess, which, after hot springs, coffee, and beer, was a complete debacle of generalship on my end.

                The next day we woke up and headed down a steep mountain valley to the end. The river next to us was a raging torrent of watery death but surrounded by trees and the steep walls of the valley it provided a nice backdrop to the end of the hike.

                Though I sadly don’t have any points of comparison, I can strongly recommend the hike to Ala-Kol (Sancho says it is his favorite, and he’s done a bunch of hikes). Sancho was a great guide, the scenery was spectacular, and if anything, I’m sad I’m not spending tonight in a tent. Prepare yourself well, know what you’re getting into, and it can be the highlight of your trip to Kyrgyzstan.