Returning from the Inylchek Geology Expedition, I speak with a couple of Aussies staying in our hotel to find out they’ve hired a car to take them to Altyn Arashan (Golden Springs). I decide to take it one way with them and after a day’s rest in town, a day involving a lot of drinking and cards, I bid farewell to Pasha and the geologist expedition, Yura, Euan and Vasya.
The driver has one of only a few types of cars that could make the drive, a former military jeep that he picked up for a couple of thousand. The suspension is non-existent, there is no air-conditioner and unfortunately, soldiers have no need for a stereo.
Driver engaging the 4wd mode for the final steep climb prior to arriving at Altyn Arashan, just outside of Karakol in Kyrgyzstan.
Overlooking the hot-springs and guesthouses in the valley of Altyn Arashan.
We arrive to find the first guesthouse booked out and when we’re driven to the second one, the driver demands the full sum of money 1800 som for the drive. The Australian couple are adamant that they’d negotiated for 1800 som for the return trip and refuse to pay the remainder saying they’d heard about this scam from other customers of Yak Tours in Karakol. Since I wasn’t present when they were negotiating the terms of the agreement, I eject myself from the heated argument and decide to go for a walk up into the mountains.
Along the way I come across a shepherd (Naibek) who offers to trade me one of his horses for my iPod. Since I don’t know whether or not I’ll need a carnet de passage for a horse when I cross into Kazakhstan, I politely decline the offer and accept his invitation to come in for a lunch of mutton.
Hiking in Altyn Arashan.
Pesky marmot avoided my rock by mere whiskers. Still an unsuccessful marmot hunter.
Moon rising over the mountains.
River next to Naibek’s house.
On the way back, I stop by Naibek’s place again to chat about life in the mountains and the way of the чабан (chaban - shepherd).
Naibek asks me if I know how to ride a horse. I reply that I’ve ridden a bit in my life and would love the privilege of riding his. I climb on the horse and have my first experience with a horse that doesn’t like being ridden, a true free spirit.
The horse starts bucking in attempt to get me off . In a split second the horse is about to dart off while bucking and I pull on the reins to stop him. The horses head comes up, followed by the front legs. Holding on for dear life, the horse collapses on its hind legs and we both come down, with the full weight of the horse landing on my left foot.
Not sure whether I’ve broken the foot or not, I stand on it to find it in excruciating pain, but rather than taking a break, I mount the horse once more, caressing it’s mane as it bucks. Having earned the horse’s trust, he decides to show me his immense power and we go for a fast paced gallop. The faster we go the less my foot hurts.
We return after a few minutes, to an applauding Naibek who did not think I’d have the guts to mount the horse after coming off it.
Rider and beast in the wilderness.
Naibek (right), his wife (centre) and good friend (left).
Two of Naibek’s dogs. He tells me if I return the following year, I can have a puppy just like the one on the left.
Altyn Arashan river, with snow capped Peak Palatka (Tent) on the left.
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