In search of whitegold on the silk road - adventure skiing in Kyrgyzstan
Kyrgyzstan is a country few skiers could spell and fewer still confidently locate on a world map. Once the centre of the world at the heart of the Silk Road and later part of the mighty Soviet bloc, the “Switzerland of Central Asia” (a topographic rather than economic likeness) is bordered by China to the east and a trifecta of fellow ‘Stans- Tajikistan, Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan- to the north, south and west. The vast peaks of the Tien Shan and Pamir mountain ranges dominate three-quarters of the country. Once popular with holidaying Russians, the fall of the Soviet Union decimated its tourism industry. But, thanks to its considerable natural attributes and an increasing number of enterprising local and international operators, Kyrgyzstan is quietly becoming a classic destination for folks with an appetite for adventure, not least skiers. Matt Carr just had to check it out.
Karakol
On the eastern shores of Lake Issyk Kol- the second-largest saline lake in the world- lies the motley town of Karakol. A Wild-West-way-in-the-East kind of place where a stunning 19th-century Russian Orthodox church built of hand-hewn logs stands next to what looks like industrial monolithic Soviet caricatures. It would be our base camp for the first few days. If anywhere in Kyrgyzstan could be called touristy; Karakol would be the most likely candidate- the “gateway to the Tien Shan”- although even here we encountered only a handful of Europeans or English-speakers. The livestock market is one of the region’s biggest- a music festival-sized event at which more than half of those in attendance are agricultural beasts. Half an hour by van above the town is Karakol Ski Base, an unexpectedly neat-and-tidy western-style ski resort featuring a handful of lifts (one of which still featured the logo of Les Menuires, where it had apparently begun its life), and well-groomed and almost completely empty pistes. Nobody in their right mind would fly to central Asia for a week’s resort skiing here, but it was an ideal spot to blast a few laps on day one, and feel our way into the Kyrgyz adventure.
In Karakol we’d met a pair of friendly Russians Slava and Dan, who were operating a kind of snowmobile backcountry taxi service whisking skiers (one on the back, one or two on the tow-rope behind) into the powder-fields above the resort. We joined up with them the following day in nearby Karakol gorge- a backcountry zone where they offer the same snowmobile uplift service. Here the terrain was fairly mellow rolling forest and summer pasture, with steeper pitches of deep powder between huge, widely-spaced conifers. At the base of the zone was a farmyard teemed with livestock. Slava and Dan kept warm on the sleds by way of huge flasks of coffee embellished with the hint of something stronger! Given its frontier status as a ski destination, we anticipated that “cowboy” was a term we might associate with Kyrgyzstan and so it seemed fitting to weave (still on the ski-doos) through cows, yak, horses, sheep and dogs on our way back to Karakol at day’s end!
Jalpak Tash
Karakol Ski Base and Gorge had been a highly tasty amuse-bouche and entrée, but it was time to move on to our main course. We loaded our gear into/onto a UAZ- think an old-school VW camper on steroids that looks like it might run on vodka, not diesel- originally built for Soviet troops but repurposed to transport ski-tourers on the first leg of a truly one-of-a-kind adventure. Coloradan Ryan Koupal set up 40 Tribes (the name a nod to Krygyz folklore in which the 40 Tribes of Kyrgyzstan were united by the warrior/national hero Manas to defend their homeland against invasion) in 2010. It is a winter yurt camp at 2600m in the central Tien Shan range, run in partnership with a handful of locals and north-American mountain guides as one of a number of community-based tourism initiatives in Kyrgyzstan.
The literal translation of Tien Shan is “Mountain of Heaven” and when we first clapped eyes on the yurt camp, slightly delirious after a 2-hour 900 vertical meter approach on skins- our kit went up on horseback- from the village below, we were unanimous in agreement that the translation was accurate. Three traditional Kyrgyz yurts (guest sleeping yurt, dining/cooking yurt, guides & staff yurt) tucked into the tree-line were linked by immaculately-excavated paths and surrounded on three sides by an all-you-can-eat buffet of powder-covered peaks. The fourth side was a staggering view across Lake Issyk Kol to yet more towering peaks on the Kazakh border to the north. Besides ourselves, there was nobody and nothing around for miles. A wisp of smoke infused with the rich aroma of manti (spiced meat dumplings) escaped from the central chimney of the dining yurt. The serenity was almost surreal. In such a far-flung corner of the world, it barely seemed possible that such a paradise for powder-hounds could exist.
But exist it did and it does. Having checked in to our yurt- surprisingly spacious and constantly cosy thanks to the ubiquitous central stove, we gorged ourselves on the first of many masterpieces cooked by camp chef Nurbek. Tentatively at first mouthful and with great gusto thereafter. How could food cooked and eaten in a tent, at 2700m, in Kyrgyzstan- not exactly a world cuisine superpower in reputation- taste this good? Nurbek we agreed was a Kyrgyz culinary wizard.
40 Tribes’ unofficial slogan is Never Not Powder Skiing and so it proved. The mountains surrounding the camp were stacked with almost every type of terrain imaginable. Lofty and lengthy ridges extend south from the camp and dropping from these we found all manner of wide open faces, tighter more technical chutes and rolling terrain through the forest back to camp.
As with all good things, these treats were hard-earned. This was pure backcountry terrain- no lifts, ski doos, snow-cats or helicopters here. Just our lungs, thighs, touring skis (or split-boards) and skins. These, allied to the expertise and enthusiasm of head guide Canadian Ty Mills and the promise of perfect powder on the descent, were more than enough to propel us to a couple of summits and joyful powdery descents per day, punctuated by much hooting, hollering and high-fiving at the bottom. Après-ski revolved mostly around rolling steadily-more frenetic games of Yahtzee- at which chef Nurbek was also a demon. On our final evening we were joined around the camp fire by a local musician playing raucous Kyrgyz songs on his accordion, a fitting finale to an experience none of us wanted to end.
Suusamyr
We weren’t done yet. A marathon 12-hour drive took us through a kaleidoscopic landscape of icy lakes, rocky deserts and winding valleys before we arrived at the 3586m Töö Ashuu pass. Extraordinarily, the valley approaching the pass- higher in altitude than the top of the Grande Motte in Tignes- was almost completely barren with barely a flake of snow on the ground. The pass itself was, in fact, a 4km-long tunnel. We emerged at the other end into the valley of Suusamyr. Snow banks 3 metres high flanked the road. Had we passed through some kind of portal?
The high-altitude valley of Suusamyr was a dazzling and frigid lunar landscape. The wide, flat valley is flanked on either side by gentle foothills steeping gradually to dramatic peaks. It is home to Suus Lodge, a building not dissimilar in appearance to an Antarctic research facility, with two snow-cats, each with a heated passenger compartment on the back. Heated because when I took my tea outside in the morning to watch the crystal-clear sunrise and dropped it in my morning fug, the tea was a frozen brown mist before it hit the ground. The thermometer read -34°C. The cold temperatures, of course, meant the snow quality was superb (where it hadn’t been ruffled by the wind) although the cold also made for a very unstable snowpack, meaning we were confined to fairly gentle slopes. Nonetheless, two days of cat-served powder skiing on what felt like entirely another planet was a suitably tasty dessert to cap an epic adventure in a country blessed with a warm and welcoming people, breathtaking mountains and unforgettable powder skiing.
This story was originally published in Snow Enthusiast Expert magazine. Read the full issue free at http://magazine.snow-forecast.com/snowenthusiastpro2018.
