Fairy Altai
That's all behind; a year of hard work, a painstaking choice of a travel agency, fears before a hike after watching a video on watermen, preparation and tailoring of equipment, final preparations. Backpacks are packed, thoughts are collected, ahead is only a feeling of something new, unknown and alluring in its obscure, lilac distance. I want a fresh wind, the inviting and sad whistle of a diesel locomotive, the pungent smell of newly laid sleepers. Ahead is a premonition of a big event that will remain with us forever, like the first snowdrop, birch sap, the first ice, the first snow, the first spring puddle, the first spring thunderstorm. Ahead of us is the first meeting with Altai. Now I say, "Father Altai. " I wonder how the being inside me knew this before? Nothing has happened yet, but the premonition of events prepares, restructures the body to live and work in a different perception of the world, a different reality. Pathetic attempts to grab onto something familiar, measured are doomed to failure. You learn to live first, to perceive every breath, every thought, every impression. Blurred skins of perception fly off from all sense organs. You are surprised by the sounds, colors, phenomena. You seem to be rediscovering the world for yourself. These feelings are familiar to everyone who travels, but their richness and severity are always different. Now is the time for special perception.
8.07. We got up at 7-30, got dressed, had breakfast, packed food for the road. The last reconciliation showed that there was not enough rope and not enough spare batteries. We went to the station, I went to Sinegorye, Lena got up at the ticket office to exchange tickets. Luckily for us, there were no reserved seat tickets to Novosibirsk - we were going in a compartment. The fellow travelers turned out to be a young family with a boy, Nikita.
Nikita was distinguished by the fact that he did not go into his pocket for a word, and thanks to this, we, with his parents, learned a lot of new things. There were four children in the family (we were very curious to watch his parents). And he himself was not going to give odds to his parents. When he was less than five years old, he said, “My child is about a year old. I have two grandmothers and three! ? Grandfathers. And in the garden I have a tractor! I ride it all! And a teacher! Then Nikita began to tell how he does gymnastics in kindergarten. This serious craft consists in mastering the three exercises. Swallow, frog and princess. All this was shown to us immediately. But I, still not understanding the difference between a swallow and a princess, asked Nikita again. "What is the difference between them? " Nikita calmly explained to me that the princess is the same swallow, only with a lower leg. And to dispel my doubts, he showed me a frog with a higher jump. Seeing how I fell into deep thought, Nikita told me that in addition to primitive games, they also fly around the garden like birds, and do not even sit down. Seeing my sad state. In the end, he decided to console us with the fact that they do not play Carlson. Carlson, as soon as they catch him, they roast him at the stake! Since I got a ticket on the second shelf, my sleep was restless today. I woke up all night and sniffed. What a blessing that smoking is banned on the trains! I dreamed that I was taking exams at a gymnastics school. If you didn’t get points, they took you to the Carlson school.
And I didn’t tell at all that an ensemble of Tuvan songs was traveling in the next compartment. What can I say about choral music: I'll start with the fact that the soloists were obviously brought up in Estonia. But unlike their Estonian colleagues, they led an unhealthy lifestyle. The first prima - Larisa was so delighted with Chelyabinsk that she was late for the train by 5 minutes, and the driver, not wanting to reckon with her, sent the train further. The rest of the ensemble hung together on the stop crane. When Larisa was told: “Because of you, we stopped the train! ”, She retorted no less brilliantly: “Did he go ?! ” - "So look at the clock! " - "Why?! "
Closer to the night, realizing that the team was preserved, to celebrate, they forcibly began to acquaint us with all their repertoire. Now I can't distinguish their songs. But I remember the emotion forever. All the songs were reminiscent of the saddle of a horse, and tygydym-tygydym-tygydym! The songs ended more unexpectedly than they started. I believe - falling into the abyss! The difference between the songs remained incomprehensible to my ears. But having taken a certain amount of fiery water, the ensemble began to sing Russian lullabies: “Oh frost, frost”, “Someone came down from the hill”. I breathed freely; the ensemble of the Tuvan song, drooling, snored in unison. Of all the proposed, for our sleep, "Tygydym" was most suitable
9.07. After we passed the Kurgan region, the weather changed. Clouds appeared in the sky, green snake grass grew in two ribbons in front of the locomotive, as far as the eye could see. There were puddles on the roads. Along the way, there was one important observation about the railroad. The well-being of these valiant workers has a clearly expressed minimum: In the Kurgan region, flying detachments of these valiant workers move in the Urals with cradles. In the Petropavlovsk Territory they move on foot. And in the Novosibirsk region, the means of transportation are the old "sixes". Thus, by experience, I have identified a minimum of well-being, with a predominance of the eastern asymptote. There were no women among the valiant staff: the former stereotype was destroyed, the banner of the railway transport flew high, finally the men took away these heavy hammers and hammered the crutches themselves. And it was found in at least two countries! And let the skeptics now argue, this is a trend.
The first leg of our journey has come to an end. Novosibirsk. The weather was frowning in the morning, but when she saw the Urals, she decided to pamper us - it was not hot, but very comfortable. Having taken a ride on the metro (this is the subject of almost 20 years of digging money in Chelyabinsk, and I suspect not one elite village outside of it), we decided to show ourselves to the Novosibirsk beast. That's why we went to the zoo.
The animals were busy eating and did not pay any attention to the visitors. Polar bears gathered the most visitors. The bigger one gathered and ate all the meat. The smaller one was putting on a scam. He played with full enthusiasm with a 20 liter plastic canister. Easily biting through 5 mm of the wall, he threw it up, and then, coming to his senses, dived into the pool after it, raising a cloud of spray. When the first bear realized that it was fun and funny, he left the meat and took away the canister. And while he was trying to portray something reminiscent of the previous performance, the second, under the guise, ate almost all the meat. Seeing that he was brutally heated (tossing the canister was not very interesting, and the best pieces were eaten by a quick-witted comrade), the first one returned to the meal. The second staged an encore performance. The rest of the animals showed no signs of reasonable behavior in front of the public. And seized by their insects, we hurried to the exit. Moreover, our train departed for Barnaul in the evening. After walking around the center, we returned to the station. We remember Novosibirsk for its Fork-Spoon cafes, a bakery, a bank administrative and residential building that looks like a gold ingot, the chapel of St. Nicholas the Wonderworker in the middle of the road, an LED tree, four-digit transport numbers, people who follow fashion and a shabby wedding palace. The train arrived on schedule.
10.07. Barnaul. Even on the train, we began to figure out our fellow travelers, I will say right away - to no avail. We calculated on rugs, backpacks, tents. And our fellow travelers Volodya and Nika, a married couple from Omsk, traveled light with one bag. Their clothing was different from the marching one. Later we learned that they were going in a hurry - they barely had time to change tickets. And the "Point of Extreme" took over the equipment entirely. Instead of Chuya-Katun, they joined us on Chuya-Chulyshman. And I think they enjoyed the trip. They are not new to Altai; - Vika came for the fourth time, Volodya for the third.
At the station, all the same, they "lit up. " While Vova was walking around the kiosks for reconnaissance, a bruise sat on Nika. He could no longer speak with his tongue, and in order to show his feelings, he hugged Vika. That half-awake began to rub her eyes to see the local Casanova in all her glory, and then Volodya returned. The charm of the bruise did not have the proper effect on him, Vova took the bruise by the neck, led him into the passage, and showed the way to the city, giving acceleration with his foot. The bruise, pulling his head in, in a bent state, in a straight course, followed the indicated direction. He could not perform more than one action at a time, and as long as he could see the eye, he bent over in a straight line and went to the other half of the station. Lena and I, not knowing the guys, watched the finale of this story. Bruise demonstrated full knowledge of Newton's first law - "A body moves in a straight line or is at rest if no other bodies act on it or this action is compensated. " We met the guys already on the bus, and they told this story almost at the end of the rafting.
At 5-00 phoned, we found out that the minibus was already standing at the station. I thought I saw him all night. The driver and passenger slept off before a busy day. We got on the bus and got to know each other. The trip to Gorno-Altaisk took 4.5 hours. On the way, we saw a chapel at the place where Evdokimov crashed. Passing through the Srostki, we noticed the Kalina Krasnaya cafe and the Pechki-Lavochki motel. What struck me: there are garbage cans along the road, which are regularly cleaned, and there is practically no garbage. The flat part of Altai surprises with well-groomed fields. Apparently the people have not yet fled from the villages. The people are busy with survival, private shops are worth a lot, which offer handicrafts, amulets, herbal tinctures, honey. Very tasty pancakes with cream, strawberries, blueberries. People welcome tourists favorably: tourism is now one of the main sources of income. I must say right away that this applies only to the main roads and rivers. The remote regions of the Republic of Altai treat tourists according to the principles “They walk and walk, crap and crap, but clean it up!? ”, “These are my cones in the forest! ”.
In Gorno-Altaisk, we changed the minibus to UAZ, took Makar, Denis, Andrey, as well as a catamaran deuce, a raft-eight, a lot of provisions. And Alexei took us along the Chuisky tract towards adventures. We passed the Chike-Taman pass. I felt that the mountains began higher than the Urals. Somewhere in the area of Bely Bom we picked up two St. Petersburg girls - Masha and Olesya and Sasha the guide. The horses were not taken. They ended the equestrian part of the route and began the water. Already at first glance, it became clear that the girls stopped believing in people and fearing for their lives. It was read in their eyes: “Is the equestrian unit really over? ”, “These maniacs will drown us! ”, “We need to hold out for another four days! ”, “These definitely won’t drown! ”. I understand girls: riding horses for four days on scree and cliffs, not understanding what a horse can do with you, is a strong occupation. After it, the nerves become like steel ropes. And looking ahead, I want to note; the girls held on to the harness so tenaciously that they did not fall out either in the Petrel, or in the Behemoth, or in the Turbine. Then they admitted that they thought of us as if we were experienced rafters. And Lena and I rafted only along the Yuryuzan of the zero category in order to gain experience. By the end of the rafting, they already began to smile and talk. So I felt the advantage of watermen over horsemen. However, Sasha, their guide, began to communicate and smile only before Konstantin drove for him and took him home. After another 5.5 hours, we reached the place - Twilight Glade on the Chuya River. We set up camp, the guys cooked dinner for us. If you say that the guys cook awesome, it means to say nothing. Each time there was at least 2 dishes, salad. Makar also turned out to be a skilled fisherman, he taught us. And in addition, we tried fish soup, fried, salted, pickled grayling. Especially a lot of fish were caught on Chulyshman. On the last day of our stay there, we simply gifted our catch to another group. It was no longer possible to clean it. And condensed milk with tea and coffee also went great.
When you leave the forest, if you want something (ice cream, fruits, sweets), then the menu was unbalanced. But on this trip, I felt that it was in the city that I began to eat wrong. Moreover, I appreciated that the cafe does not even reach the level of our chefs. And if you consider that everything is fresh and smoky ?!
That evening we had supper, drank the brought fiery water, made acquaintances, chatted, and tired fell asleep like a dead sleep.
11.07. In the morning briefing, hydrating. Gave me a subscription. Before lunch we have two thresholds - Burevestnik and Behemoth. Examined Burevestnik, then passed. This is my first threshold in life. The threshold is nimble, passed by slalom. Beginners are always lucky. I didn’t see anything except water and an oar in front of me, I tried to row and practically didn’t see anything. Gone instantly. And I only remember that I really didn’t want to be in the water.
Behemoth examined for a long time, decided to go. It was scary when they flopped into a barrel under the bridge, for a second I grabbed the harness, I was afraid that I would be cured, as I was sitting on the right row row sailor. It worked out - a large barrel slipped by inertia, before the rest there was time to accelerate. Eyes have already caught separate moments. There was a feeling of moderate fear, the joy of overcoming. On the shore, everyone immediately became cheerful, the tension poured out through loud conversations, funny anecdotes, and stories. We got up in our own camp at Twilight Glade. A start!
In front of a beautiful waterfall. We go to him, take pictures, I mustered up the audacity, climbed into the water. Jets of water press on you like a press, it reduces your teeth from the cold. But what a joy to go ashore!
I want to say right away - we are not athletes, not adrenaline addicts. We are just tourists with experience. Initially, the goal was to acquire impressions, get acquainted with the Altai nature, people and rest.
I personally had two mercantile goals;
1) Catch the grayling yourself. (My friend buzzed my ears about grayling bites)
2) Climb 20 peaks in your life. (It so happened that by the trip to Altai I had 19 peaks of the Ural Mountains) But more on that later.
12.07. Today we have two large rapids - "Turbine" and "Horizon". We went for an inspection, decided to "Turbine" to go through the right drain. We dispersed and got up... They began to turn right in front of the threshold, straightened to the right, stabbed themselves. Second grebe; straightened to the left, nose on the bump stop. Plunged into the barrel. Behind the people, like peas, fell into the center of the raft. Nika fell overboard, grabbed the handrail. After the barrel at the rock, a catch with a clamp. We got to the center of the catch, we are trying to drag Nika, row. Together it doesn't work. The port side is finally dragging us in, spinning us once, leveling off, bobbing. We take a breath, we go to inspect the "Horizon". "Horizon" - S-shaped threshold with a narrowing of the channel. We examine for a long time, try on and decide not to go. Makar's experience allowed us not to get into a difficult situation; the next day "Altai-tour" went. As a result, they tore all three compartments, swam on the same bottom. People remained alive, the raft is opposite; no longer repairable. Pockets behind the curve of the first half have underwater compartments. The main jet carries just along a rocky ledge. As a result, after 50 meters of pressure on this water there is no chance to save the raft. And there is not enough strength to rake out in the center. It's scary to think that if you drag it into an underwater pocket, there will be no chance at all. As a result, we carry along the coast. Nika is in a trance, and cats scratch my soul. But the admiral said - the sailors did. And it turned out to be right!
We go a little more along the river, we get up. We treat spiritual wounds with fiery water. All the same, the thresholds not passed leave a razor mark in the heart. Where is the line between reasonable risk and thoughtlessness? Now I regret that there is no watercraft, no proven partner, no “Indian” costume. The line becomes clear - this is the place where commercial tourism turns into sports. Commercial tourism is always a controlled risk, if there is no certainty, it is already a sport.
We saw a kayak pressed against a rock. Launched a rescue operation. The operation lasted 2-3 hours - all to no avail: without equipment they failed to climb the rock, attempts to pull off the side did not bring success. The water is high, the stream is powerful, they themselves risked being in that clamp. We don't know if the kayaker survived? ! Reported to the nearest village. Conclusion ; small boats without insurance - an occupation for suicide bombers. It is necessary to respect the river, water, prepare both technically (helmet, vest, suit, strap cutter) and mentally. Stupid bravado will end with the loss of the ship at best. 13.07. All subsequent rapids downstream are not dangerous. On the bridge in the village of Iodro, local boys followed our passage, passed the shiverki with slalom. The boys were happy, we had no mistakes. Tonight was all about relaxation. The weather is hot, I swam, Chuuya calmed down. The water is very comfortable.
14.07. Today we have a weekend shiverka Chuya and an exit to the Katun. Gone before lunch, got up. Chuya's color is closer to gray, Katun's is closer to turquoise. No serious thresholds were encountered at the exit section. We passed briskly, stood on the arrows of Chui, Katun, had lunch. It seems the power began to overwhelm me. I decided to fulfill my dream - to go to the top and see Altai from above. acted foolishly; so that Lena would not follow me did not begin to gather at all. The summit at the confluence consists of three hills. Not knowing the area, without a path, I decided to go to it and make a circular survey of the area. Denis warned me that I would not be in time for dinner. I pointedly kept silent, and in what I was wearing - alloy slippers, without socks, in underwear, without water, a map, a compass, went towards the mountain. The map and compass were the last things I worried about; I have 2 more ways of orientation in reserve, and linear landmarks - the river and the Chuya tract excluded the possibility of getting lost. It happened just like that with orientation in the mountains, there were almost no problems covered with forests. But everything else was stupid. The fact is that the plants in those places are as follows; a bush similar to a saxaul, a bush with small round leaves, an acacia, a raspberry, a wild gooseberry, an ordinary nettle, a nettle resembling our wild and harmless weed. All these plants have thorns (only those that have protection from livestock survived). In addition, the vipers of those places have a ritual from the time of day to crawl from stones to water and back. All the bushes, when moving without a path, twist into bundles at the base of the foot (I didn’t even have a sock there). As a result, all the spikes were in my legs, they swelled up and lost their sensitivity. It should be remembered that you need to move slowly to allow the vipers to get out of the way (there is happiness in life). The technique of movement should be such as to exclude grasping for thorny branches. According to the loose gravel gradation, movement should be completely excluded. Strength is lost 10 times more than on any detour. Having comprehended these features, I climbed to 1 top. Having climbed in, I realized that I did not see the northwestern side. The impression is scanty, but he was not going to give up. The first and second peaks are connected by a spur, with a rocky 100-meter bridge 10-15 meters deep. I decided to traverse along it so as not to tear the bleeding insteps against the bushes. The rocks are not strong and moved along them slowly, literally probing every centimeter. Ill-fitting stones fell down. On the second summit, I found that the third one, the highest of them, continues to block the view. There is a spur between the second and third peaks - again descent and ascent. On the rise, at first, the thigh began to cramp, I sat down for a massage, and it let go. The cramp spread to the buttock.
The third top suited me completely; as far as the eye could see the Katun valley and the Chuya valley. Somewhere down in the Katun valley, the sun shone the remnants of the rain - a rainbow formed across the valley. In the distance, in all directions, on the high mountains were patches of snowfields. Indescribable beauty!
But time passed and ahead of me - the descent. I decided that it was not advisable to go along the tops, I decided to go down the gorge. The descent along the gorge is gentle among the bushes. But the walls are steep with short sections of visibility. I went down 500 meters and found myself on a ledge 50 meters long and 20 meters high. I examined everything - from above I did not find a safe descent at all. As time went! I go up to 400 meters, go around the top, go down the second 400 meters down. A stream of water appears in the middle! I drink with dry lips from the palms, splash, snort - good! But below, again, a cornice of 5 meters, there are ledges, but everything is in slippery slime, water flows along the cornice. I see again a spur along which there is a descent to the camp - at hand. There is a desire to take risks. But the experience of walking in the mountains makes you climb back. I climb 200 meters, go around the second peak on a rock with limited visibility. However, if you do not break, but choose the route of descent, it does not present difficulties. I pass the third gorge carefully, it gets dark, visibility worsens. I'm waiting for the next cornice. Not believing my own eyes, I go out to the desired spur. I'm walking on it. I see Volodya below - they are looking for me. I shout, I wave my hands - he sees. The main part of the group came to my search. I received a reprimand, I apologize with full remorse. Lena is freaking out, I understand her.
Don't repeat my mistakes. Due to the grandeur, it is easy to get lost. Required - map, compass, navigator. Movement is energy-intensive and local. In winter, there is clearly an avalanche danger. Knowing the features can save up to 50% of the time. It is better to stick to the paths along which cattle move. (Actually, animals are not as stupid as me) Although I repeat, this is my 20 top. I never tear plants, I don’t kick stones, I respect signs and traditions. I always stroke the water of the river with my hand, before entering, I ask to go to the spirits guarding the mountains. I thank for the gifts, I collect and burn garbage in the parking lot. Without experience in Altai, I would have banned walking altogether. Altai only carefully let me feel his strength, power, shared with me a crumb. This baby literally overwhelmed me. In this campaign countless times I thanked Him for the science. How recklessly I behaved, and how paternally clearly He showed my mistakes. Sometimes it seemed to me - He teaches me, as in school.
After the experience, I had no strength left, my eyes were stuck together. But swollen ankles and wrists burned. In order to fall asleep, I went down to the Katun, sat on the shore, put my feet in the water. Three minutes later, I dropped my hands. The tumor decreased, and when I went to the tent through the sagebrush, I felt that the itching had gone. Despite the farewell night with Katun and the girls - Masha and Olesya. I didn't hear anything - I slept like the dead.
15.07. Today we are moving. We are on Chulyshman, for Masha and Olesya everything is over. We parted warmly and exchanged addresses. They are in Gorno-Altaisk, we are through Iodro, White Bom, Aktash to the Katu-Yaryk pass. Today, the main burden will fall on our driver Alexei. Ahead is the Ulagan-“bandyugan” land. The morals of the Altaians who found themselves in the backyards of the Soviet empire, who had not yet forgotten the "re-education" of the communists. Without industry, with empty hunting and fishing grounds, with desecrated shrines, it is understandable without words. Even our guides look focused. Surprisingly, this part of the route passed without incident.
In Aktash we went to the shops, remembered the civilization. Aktash, with his shops, dealt a mighty blow to the basic theorem of tourism: "No matter how much you take toilet paper, it's still not enough. " If there is Aktash in the middle, there will be enough paper! Take a break and hit the road! Red gates are two bridges - old and new. Another 1.5 months ago, the road was washed out, the bridge was demolished. Now everything is in place. There are a lot of jeeps. Mostly Novosibirsk, Altai Territory. After the Red Gate, we saw cedar groves, dead and living mountain lakes, a red wolf, and two local hunters on horseback with guns. The red wolf ran away from the hunters and almost got under the wheels to us.
Ulagan village.
The first thing that caught my eye; on the main square there is a Stalin barrack of the court with high, barred windows and huge letters “HOUSE OF JUSTICE”, a huge portrait of 3x4 meters of the local 30th “leader” concurrently as a deputy, and the main of the three streets is his name. Feel the spirit of the emerging people. It is probably not easy to step out of paganism into the technocratic world cracking from the crisis. Instead of necessary things: clothes, sugar, salt, potatoes, bread, meat, fish, guns, fishing rods. Fall into the world of hundreds of unnecessary things, the names of which you can not remember. By then they will have multiplied under new names. Correctly they invented only one word - gadgets. I was saddened that the traditional yurts of the Altaians first became wooden, and then became a kind of gadgets that are orphans near many huts. As if something elusive had already gone into the ground in a thin stream between the fingers.
Lapel we go to the pass. I came across a forest lake of unimaginable beauty.
We passed the excavated barrows. The princes of the Altai land knew how to die. Away mountains with snowfields, glaciers, on the sides - clean rivers. On the slope the grass turns green, the forest stands like a patterned wall, the wind walks, carries the souls of the dead through the Altai paradise.
Ordinary people don't die like that; Altai cemetery - a piece of land on a mountainside. The graves are crowded together, like a flock of sheep - they bury them standing up? ! The expanse is all around - there are not enough eyes, and the result of the life of the village is the width of a handkerchief! There is also respect for the great nature.
Pass. On it is an idol, a gazebo, everything is hung on centuries-old fir trees with traditional blue ribbons - signs of the Altai people turning to the souls of their ancestors, with a simple request - to help in this difficult world. The hung spruces are screaming - HELP!! ! I see that even the Altai god simply will not have time to help everyone. Let's go further.
At the stream we get up for a snack, doused with water. Gadflies do not let you relax - in the car. We get up in the forest, prepare firewood.
Katu-Yaryk. The road climbs the last hills separating the Chulyshman valley. What is shown below is fascinating; a narrow ribbon of a rearing river, coastal water meadows, houses the size of a match head. Serpentine road down, a monument to drivers. Elevation difference 800 meters. Between the guards of the rocks flow, from here seen as tiny, waterfalls. They fall 100-200 meters. Breathtaking, the scenery is fantastic. We dismounted, the UAZ went down, we followed. The serpentine was expanded and backfilled. The descent of 3.5 km was covered in 25 minutes in slippers. We set up camp.
16.07. 10 Grayling fishing. Prepared slightly; the plastic reel had to be thrown away, only the classics were sold in Aktash. Nothing to do - bought. The ship did not fit - was rejected. Fortunately, a good foam was chosen. Alexey made two floats, between them there are loops and leashes. Leashes should be made of thick fishing line and no more than 5 cm, then they do not get confused. Any flies work - the water is fast, with a flake. The distance between the floats is 1-1.5 meters, the optimal number of flies is -5. Gutted grayling showed that it eats mostly black ants. However, he also eats rice porridge from tourists' bowlers. Catching is akin to flashing pike and perch. It stands in a certain place (behind a pebble) and grabs a floating bait. Very often it bites on an eyeliner - when you reel up a fishing line carried away by the current, and play with flies. The flow of the river itself plays with the second float and helps you. When the grayling decides to take the bait, it melts one or two floats. It is necessary not to yawn, otherwise it will spit out - a sharp cut and 250-300 grams of fish vigorously tries the line to break. Nice strong bite. Trembling and beating for 1.5 seconds with the whole body. Then it drops sharply, but to loosen the line - to miss the fish. Trembles all over the second time when it is in the air. Interestingly, if she weighed 1000 times more, could she be pulled out? The feeling remains pleasant, the fish is simple-minded and moderately impudent.
We went down to the water, went along Chulyshman. The river is nimble, just manage to dodge the fast barrels. Reached Tikhoni, inspect. The threshold itself is not difficult, but we decide not to go. With the keel of the raft, they will have time to pull out one or two. The rest will be sausages on the shivers of km 5. Nika almost cries - Makar calms her down; “If today we pass the shivers well, tomorrow we will go to Tikhonya. ” We go around the shivers - no problem. We stand on the arrow of Chulchi.
07/17/10. Today we have Uchar waterfall. We cross the river, go along the stone field. It looks like an army, the field crushes the boulders left by the melted glacier. We approach the mouth of the Chulcha valley. The local caretaker in a T-shirt, with a huge cleaver, quietly received the nickname Rimbaud from us. Having ripped off 100 rubles from non-locals, he explained where they were going this year. The old footbridge has been demolished, new logs have been piled up, and the path now forks. We got the instructions, let's go. The sun beats mercilessly, on the way to Chulcha 1 river and 4 streams flow from the slopes. All waterfalls. We make our way along the left slope, cross to the right, then again to the left. The trail goes into a scree in places. The slope is 45-50 degrees. If you stumble, roll down 150 m, you will fall into Chulcha. Chulcha is a river of the 6th category. Solid thresholds along the entire length. Width for passing no more than a catamaran. It's cool even for extreme sports. In addition, how to carry a kat along the path?
We passed km 6, and km 2 as Uchar (Impregnable) appeared in the distance. Lena had a heatstroke, she began to fall. We made the decision to take a break and come back. We shared a snack, I stayed with Lena. They dipped her T-shirt in a waterfall, she put it on wet. Again dipped, put on and again dipped. After 30 minutes, the blow passed, we had a bite to eat. Walk back carefully. A group was sitting on a rocky wall in front of another waterfall. I passed it, put a pacifier with water, a bag with a camera, phones and a wallet, clothes on the other side. He began to return to help Lena cross - they shouted. The bag and pacifier rolled and flew down the road to the lower cascade of the falls. At first, I didn't believe it. Helped Lena to cross, and climbed down. There is a cornice and a 20m second cascade. Found a pacifier. The bag hung on the last branch of birch at the very edge. He went down, took the 2nd branch with a knot, caught on the strap of the bag, pulled it. Phew! Snatched from the mouth of the waterfall. Thank you grandfather Altai! It was you who saved the memory for us!
The group, looking at us, crossed and went to the waterfall. We said that if they met ours, they would tell us that we were going to the exit. Somewhere in the middle of the road a second group met; Altai - the guide led from 2 men. We repeated the request. We passed the crossing, mosquitoes do not give rest, climbed the slope, sat down and waited. The first group returned - they did not see ours. The second one came back, they said that they saw 2 men from afar?? ! Then we found out, both groups did not reach the end. We sit for another 40 minutes. Lena stays, I go back. Passed a few meters through 400 ours seemed, the stone left the soul! It's a shame that we didn't manage to reach the waterfall itself. From 2 km, the sight is impressive - the river cascades down 160 meters. We returned to the camp. Today we have a bath, but after the heat stroke Lena could not. Out of solidarity, I stayed with her. Fortunately, in a pot you can always heat water, wash your hair. And the water is warm - we swam almost every day.
07/18/10. In the morning we repeated the rafting on the shivers after Tikhoni. Makar and Andryukha, in order for us to feel the living water, led us into a small barrel and dumped us into the river. They themselves remained in the raft. I swim well, I have spasik, hydrach and spray. Getting into the barrel, I feel that I can not swim from above. I am carried away from the group to the side, I fall into 2.3, 4. Before the eyes of white water. Everything has finished sausage, I look back: all three are calmly swimming, grabbing each other by the oars. I drank at least 1.5 liters of water. The instructors yell at me from the raft to swim ashore: it's not so easy with a paddle. I rake up - in front of a large stone with a chipper. I lie on my back, stretch my legs. On the cobblestone, like a cockroach, I run into the catch. The pressure on the legs is palpable, there are long shivers behind the cobblestone. We crawl into the raft, go along the shivers. Felt! No one asked questions why they didn’t go to Tikhon. Stopped in the parking lot and had lunch. The women went to look at stone mushrooms, I went fishing. I got 3 graylings and gave the fishing rod to real miners. In the evening they wanted to change the fish for condensed milk, vodka or stew. In the end, they just gave it away. Clean already in the bummer.
In the evening we heard unpleasant news, today a woman in one of the groups on Uchar broke down, was evacuated by helicopter. We condole with her, her family, instructor, Rimbaud.
07/19/10. Today we are going to Baskaus. Arrived - the bridge has not yet been repaired. A helicopter with "boosters" flew in with us. After 40 minutes, the "accelerators" flew away - the construction site froze. We say goodbye to Makar, Andrey, Alexey. Rafting to Bashkaus-Chulyshman-Teletsky took about three hours. Here we got acquainted with the most terrible threshold - "Mirror". This threshold is impassable without muscular effort. I had to work with oars. They overtook the walking group. How good it is in a raft: a backpack floats right there, you sit, enjoy nature, the wind blows away mosquitoes. Pawns go sweaty, backpacks dig into the shoulders, mosquitoes sting sweaty faces and hands. Now we understand; water - foreva!
We passed the village. Three waterfalls on one! Small Altaians are fishing on the shore. They yell at us "Hey!! ! There is a connection! ”After the answer, they fall silent. Rafts here are an infrequent event. We get up at the mouth of the Teletskoye. Local motorboats scurry about. We put 100 meters of nets, now they are grazing.
We are setting up camp. We decided to take a walk along the beach. A UAZ is driving along the road, full of local Altaians. The boat "Bro" moored to the shore. The Altaians pounced on him like sparrows on fresh manure. The first question is “Smoking is! ” The captain brought them 2 packs. He explained that he was waiting for a group of Muscovites. Altaians insisted on "Ride! ". The captain refused. The Altaians said that they would inspect the boat and climbed inside. As a result, he rolled them for almost an hour. We walked on, walked, came back. The UAZ was standing with the doors wide open. The Altaians left the driver on the bank. To give the UAZ an abandoned look, he hid under a steep bank and secretly watched who would approach the car. We returned to the camp, told. An hour later, the Altai went to shaggy tourists further. We stopped at the camp, got off, asked for a cigarette. We said no. According to the idea correctly, only Denis smoked with us. He took cigarettes at the base, he paid 50 rubles for a pack of cheap ones. The conversation with them did not go well. The only thing we said was that we were going from Gorny, we have been going for 10 days, waiting for the boat. They saw that we only drink tea and coffee. They did not want to risk bombing 3 strong, taciturn men and left for a while. True, at night we passed twice, once we looked closely, but we did not scatter equipment around the camp, moreover, we grazed it. Quite late at night they sent us two messengers with an offer to sell two loaves of bread. We had no shortage of food and we proudly refused. That's when they left us alone. There are both children and women in the UAZ, it seems that the Altaians use different methods of brushing tourists. They are afraid to get in touch with forest and water people on an equal footing, and this is already good!
07/20/10. After getting up, I went to the surrounding groves and picked up a cap of boletus. Fried - finally ate natural mushrooms. All our forests are dry, mushrooms are not expected. Here is the last gift!
Today the Altai fairy tale ended. The boat takes us around the Teletskoye Lake. Clouds cling to the surrounding mountains. The wind makes the ride feel like walking on a washboard. Lena does not clench her teeth tightly, fearing that they will crack. There is a torrential cloud. We cling to the left bank and wait out the rain at some private fishing base. The wind died down after the rain, the cloud swept away. We complete the route along Teletskoye. We stop on the way to the amazing Meteor Lake. The level this year has risen by 2.5 m, now they are connected by a strait.
From Artybash we go to Gorno-Altaysk, before reaching km 30 we stop and have a snack with pancakes. Pancakes with homemade cream and wild berries - strawberries and blueberries. Yummy!
In Gorny we transfer to a minibus - Biysk - Barnaul. We say goodbye to the driver.
Farewell to you, Father Altai! We will definitely be back!
