kayakstan.net :: Day 12 - End of the road
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The plan in the morning was to explore some of the tributaries further down the Saryjaz, and maybe paddle a section of the Saryjaz itself. But our plan had several uncertainties. We were about to drive off our range 1:200000 maps, and the road ahead was deemed to be 'under construction' by a 2003 large-scale tourist map we were now using. Our drivers claimed the road carried on much further than we had originally thought though.. If the 2003 map was correct (doubtful), how much track can you build in 2 years? The answer was clearly to drive and see.
The main road had been pretty good up to this point, and we soon found out why. About 10km downstream from our camp-spot we came across a genuine ghost town. The town of Enilchek by the look of it used to be a thriving tin mining centre, but fortunes must have changed as the town now lies entirely derelict, occupied by only a handful of people. Since we had hoped to pick up some bread for lunch at this point, this was maybe a bad thing, but it added to the sense of isolation that this region carries with it.
The road went on, and we went with it, skirting the occasional portions that had dropped away into the river. "This is a major earthquake zone" our drivers warned us, although quite what we were to do about it was beyond us, I think maybe it was more in the way of an explanation. As we neared the first major tributary on the day's hit list, the Katsndy, we crossed our fingers that the road would push on across this and further down. Twas not to be though, and we pulled up at a collapsed bridge with the drivers refusing to repeat their trick of simply driving through the river. No truck transport equals a long walk-in, and such it was to be.
The team split into the two truck groups again at this point - one team was to walk-in as high as they could to the Katsndy to check it out. The other team was to reverse their tracks for a few km and check-out a more minor but promising tributary upstream, the Terekty. Access to this minor tributary was an issue - it was on the other side of the Saryjaz, and separated from the truck by a few menacing looking vertical drops.
In the end, the Terekty team paddled down a section of the Saryjaz to get to the confluence with the smaller trib, and walked in from there. A 2 hour stroll lugging boats took us to a truly gnarly siphoned section, where the entire river disppeared under boulders and log-jams. Upstream the river carved through several narrow mini-gorge sections, very similar in nature to Chateau-Queyras in the French alps, and downstream several grade 3+ boulder gardens lay between us and the Saryjaz. Well worth the walk.
Meanwhile the other team was walking. And walking. And walking in. james continues the story from the other team's perspective: Three hours after setting off we decided to call a stop and get ready to paddle back down the Katsndy to the truck. The walk in itself had been spectacular, following a small track that wound its way alongside the river and over the top of several gorges. From what we had seen on the way up it looked as if the Katsndy would offer several grade 3/4 boulder gardens along its length, flowing with milky-grey glacial melt water. Walking in at 3000m with loaded boats proved hard work, coupled with the fact that this was the first time any of us had tested our various boat carrying systems (or lack of them Martyn!).
Just as we were kitting up and getting ready to paddle a group of local farm workers we had passed earlier turned up and introduced themselves. After the customary handshakes and laughs at our strange clothing we were invited for a cup of 'chai' (tea). Still feeling the effects of the walk in we thought it rude to turn down the offer so walked up the bank to where they were working. We were soon shuffled into a tiny tent laid out with a kettle and food in the middle. There we remained for the next hour, sipping tea and eating bread and freshly churned butter whilst trying to discuss anything relevant in sign language. As soon as Phil produced his video camera the kyrgyz locals produced their own toy, an old rifle they used to shoot wolves! After a few terrorist impressions the rifle was presented to Wouter who seemed totally confused by the whole situation. Following our tea and bread we tried to say our good byes and head to our boats, but were promptly whisked off to three horses conveniently waiting outside. Needless to say none of us proved to be natural horse riders, clutching tightly to the reigns and wobbling all over the place in our bulky paddling kit. Even though I was repeatedly assured that a helmet wasn't necessary, I wasn't having any of it! After returning the favour by giving the farmers a go in our boats, we finally managed to get on the river. It was certainly worth the walk-in, with boulder garden after boulder garden.
So a good day was had by both teams, and we settled down to a well-earned night's sleep.