Once again we had 7 hours on the highway before us. Enthusiasm broke out as I ordered some food alone and without any help at a roadhouse in the middle of nowhere (everything here is in the middle of nowhere so that’s not actually worth pointing out). Hey, I made progress. Our next goal was to raft several hundred kilometres on a mountain river back to civilisation. We halted on a riverbank near the motorway and our two new guides already awaited us with two red inflatable dinghies and all the other stuff you need on such a trip. From paddles and a tarp we built an improvised shelter, which did not seem particularly stable. We also lacked a mounting for our cooking pots. To solve this problem, a traffic sign along with its mast was simply pulled out of the ground and placed above the fire site. You just need to know how to help yourself. It began to rain as we pitched our tents and things became quite hectic. I felt great and nothing, even the heavy downpour, could spoil my good mood. The rain disappeared as fast as it came and in the end we got rewarded with a beautiful double rainbow above us. Until late at night, we were occasionally haunted by smaller rain showers, which always razed our shelter to the ground.
I was amazed that all our stuff, which really has been a lot, fit without any problem on the two boats. The rafting also was much easier than expected, our team worked pretty well together. To keep us in rhythm, our guide regularly shouted “RAS! … RAS! … RAS!”. I’ll never get this out of my head “…. RAS! … RAS! … RAS!” We unexpectedly had the honour to push past Putin’s summer residency… The property was so extensive that it was quite impossible to figure out where it started and where it ended. At a landing stage near what appeared to be Putins main house stood a lonely man at the water’s edge. He was too far away to see his face. Maybe that was Putin himself… probably not. Or maybe? WE WILL NEVER KNOW.
Deep in the remote mountains, no signs of civilisation were to be seen anymore … Here and there one saw free-roaming horses and birds of prey circled high above us, the largest, which I have ever seen so far in the wild … Would have loved to know their species. Apart from the occasional rapids, which gave exciting (and cold) variety, our boat ride was quite relaxed. After a few hours, we landed on an inconspicuous bank and were led to a rock face by our guides, on which a shepherd imprinted images of different animals like dogs, sheep, wolves and horses some 5000 years ago. I was awed by the fact that these ancient pictures survived to this day. My inner archaeologist was thrilled. After we were done marvelling at these ancient works of art, we boated farther downstream, until we finally laid on a lonely sand beach and pitched our camp. Yes, a sand beach. Under the hot sun of Siberia. We felt like explorers who entered an unknown territory for the first time. I immediately fell in love with this place, which almost felt unreal. It was lonely and all that could be heard was the wind and the rustling of the white river. Instead of palm trees, we had white birches and around us the green mountains of Altai. The weather god was also gracious to us, warming the sand under our feet with his sun rays. The only “negative” thing was that we did not have a stream nearby so we had to boil our water before drinking.
After lunch I went on a small expedition with some others. Our mission: to conquer the nearest mountain! Through dense undergrowth we fought our way to the foot of the mountain. The smell of alpine herbs was permeating the air. Gradually, the vegetation made way to the cliffy rocks and the closer we got to the summit, the steeper and thus more difficult the ascent became. The miserable bushes among us offered some support, but one had to be careful as they were pretty loose at times. The exertion of this arduous climb got rewarded with a fantastic view! The sun was already low, so we couldn’t stay for too long. After taking a few picture we already headed back. Getting up was, incidentally, the easiest part (as always with mountaineering). When descending, we had to be careful to not stumble or do anything else stupid. I crawled downhill with my butt touching the ground in some instances. At the foot again, we marched across a meadow covered with edelweiss and other bizarre-looking plants. The sound of a distant creek reached us. Of course we headed into it’s direction, in the hope to find fresh drinking water. Unfortunately, the stream was deeply hidden under thick undergrowth and hence unreachable for us.
The next day we followed the water for another 60 km. Shortly after we cast off, we took a quick stop at a gushing waterfall, which was well hidden in a narrow crevice. At last we were able to fill our empty bottles with fresh water! The boat trip proceeded so quietly that a fierce battle broke out between our two teams, who attempted to hijack eachother’s boat to take their paddles and their inmates as hostages. Pine cones shot around our heads and before we could do anything, Kris was pulled onto the boat of the others. A bitter setback, as it seemed. But she managed to escape out of the enemy’s claws and even captured a few sandwiches. Today we dined on the high seas. At some point we approached a bridge, under which threatening bubbling rapids were waiting for us. On the bridge stood some people who were watching us curiously. This was the most powerful white water so far, and for a moment it seemed as if we were capsizing. But, of course, we managed to pass through them, though well soaked. The second break we made at the foot of a rock, of which some daring also jumped off. Of course, I would now have loved to write that I, as adventurous as I am, jumped from said rock into the rushing river. But I did not, got cold feet and preferred to shoot a few photos. Unfortunately there was a little misunderstanding between me and Kris: she asked me to make a film while I was taking photos. Well, it should be clear now that I am not a good Cameraman.
The afternoon sun cast a pleasant light on the mountains and, once more, birds of prey circled above us. Wonder if those were eagles. On one of the rugged rock walls was a crack that looked like the Bat signal. Our guide told us that once a group of superheroes threw a party and when the precious vodka ran out, they asked Batman for help in their despair. But instead of getting alcohol, the alcoholic Batman flew against the mountain and left this spot on the rock face. We pitched our penultimate camp on a tiny island. By “tiny” I mean that you could walk from one end to the other within 5 minutes.
In the course of our last leg we stopped at an intolerable tourist camp. None of us was overly pleased to be back to civilization. Our stay there fortunately was of only short duration and soon we were back on the water. Every now and then war between us broke out again. In the course of this Sergei and our guide turned the air pump of our boat into a sophisticated pinecone-cannon. The range of this construction was quite impressive. On the shores increasingly appeared houses and streets and as we passed a series of jagged rocks, Kris translated to me that, according to a legend, a dragon once made trouble at this place. The people who lived here were not too enthusiastic about the giant reptile, so they hit him so hard in the face that his teeth fell out and landed in the river. Sounds plausible.
At sunset, after an eternity, we finally arrived at our last camp. It was a campsite with wooden houses, surrounded by a pine forest. The last evening with our group was imminent. The dinner was unusually sumptuous. Sascha and I let our muscles play at a specially designed table for arm wrestling. 2: 1 for Russia. Germany lost once again. We sat for a long time at the camp fire and enjoyed the rest of our food supplies.
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