More Sore Legs, Hot Springs, Lakes, and Slippery Slopes

The third day was certainly better. The morning was tough, though. We had  2,700 ft of straight uphill first thing in the morning. Oh and on my way out of the camp, I fell in more mud and ruined once again my newly cleaned and still damp pants.

The uphill was very hard, but I still think the third pass from the day before was much, much harder. I feel bad for Zack, as I took my time, taking many rests and breaks getting up to the 11,800 ft pass. I’d say one of the most frustrating moments was cresting what I thought was the pass, only for a towering peak to come into view. It took us another hour to conquer that one.

By time we’d cleared the pass, we ran into our Dutch friend again, and he had Lightning with him! See, Lightning loves the mountains. She loves hiking. She left as early as she could, with the first human to leave camp. And while our friend left from the pass before us, Lightning happily stayed with us at the top and enjoyed her day in the mountains. Zack and I climbed from the pass to the peak, and of course, Lightning followed us all the way! She photobombed a few of our epic summit pictures!

The way down was quite rocky until we hit the grassy fields. I was sliding all over, trying not to fall entirely. I was doing this entire hike in my Keens, which tended to fill with rocks after a few steps… I’m sure a nice pair of hiking boots would have made this trek much easier, but I didn’t have time to find and break in a pair, and I didn’t want to take mine for back home with me for this entire trip, just to be used for a few days in the middle.

We hit the grassy part, at which point we descended steeply though the wildflowers and bushes to the bottom of the valley. There we met up with our Dutch friend and headed to the next camp site. As we reached the end of the valley, we saw the trees beginning to grow a few hundred feet below us. The river flowed down in a series of beautiful cascades, and everything looked so brilliant. It was really just an amazing scene. We’d gotten a similar one the day before descending into the previous camp, but I was too concerned with the mud to really appreciate…

That night we stayed in the resort area called Altyn Arashan—a hot spring destination. There were several guest houses and yurt camps in the valleys, and Zack and I got our own room not in a yurt. I honestly was a little disappointed because did want to camp in yurts, but it was nice to not be cold while going to bed, and I appreciated getting to charge our phones and portable charger.

We got to go in the hot springs that evening, which was cool for a bit and definitely good on my incredibly sore muscles, but then I noticed a large amount of mildew in the pool and got a bit grossed out. It was nice to be able to bathe, regardless of the mildew, as it certainly stank and was covered in dirt and mud head to toe.

That night we had a delicious dinner—dapanji. Dapanji is one of those Dungan dishes with Chinese roots that’s been adopted as Kyrgyz. Dapanji is literally just Chinese for “big plate of chicken”—大盘鸡—but it’s really more a chicken curry with veggies.

I guess I haven’t mentioned this yet, but now is probably the time. Every meal we had with our camp operator Kyrgyz Life, including the teas when we first arrived to the yurt camp, included this assorted plate of snacks that seem Kyrgyz and Russian inspired. The plate usually had some kind of candy, nuts, chocolates, and our favorite, dried apricots. Sure there were usually dead flies in the dried apricots but at this point I think all cleanliness concerns had fully gone out the window. And it was protien. So we didn’t really care. They were too delicious and nutritious after a long hike for us to not eat. This seems to be in line with traditional Kyrgyz hospitality, as most yurt camps, ours or others, did the same. Another traditional thing to do when being welcomed into a camp is to have a cup or two of tea, which again, was greatly appreciated after a day of hiking.

In general, the food with Kyrgyz Life was delicious and plentiful. Usually they’d offer us seconds if we wanted. The families that run these camps are so gracious and want us to feel at home in their camps. Of course this guesthouse in Altyn Arashan was different in style, but the people who ran it were still very friendly, knew everyone staying the night, and made us feel very welcome.

The first few yurt camps we stayed in—Boz Uchuk Lakes and Almaluu—were not very busy, and the family there was primarily a nomadic family that did shepherding and raising of cattle or horses. From Altyn Arashan onwards, though, the camps got pretty busy and the purpose was primarily tourism. The views did get way better as we entered this more touristy part of the trail, so I’d say that’s a fair trade off.

The next day we hiked all the way up to Ala Kul Lake. This involved us going from 8,200 ft of elevation—the lowest on the trek—to 12,800 ft—the highest. Needless to say, after the last few days of ups and downs, my sore legs were not excited to make the trek. But oddly, I cruised all the way up to the bottom of the pass. Instead of needing to stop Zack to take breaks, Zack was stopping behind me because he needed breaks. The first part of the day was about a mile along the first valley where I managed to finally avoid falling into a puddle of mud! Then we had a series of river crossings, each of which harder than the last, where I thought I was gonna fall in with all my stuff. Luckily, I made it across all dry, even after having to cross on a fallen tree as a bridge.

The rest of the morning was  all uphill, passing once again the tree line, and entering into another one of those green valleys filled with grass.

Around lunch time I started to slow down, and we headed into the yurt of a guy named Samyr. This turned out to be one of the most interesting parts of our trek! We first had some tea and snacks, then dined on fine Kyrgyz plov. We hadn’t had plov since leaving Kazakhstan, and I’m pretty sure it’s more of an Uzbek dish, but he assured us that Kyrgyz plov is special, with its own spice mixture and hearty with meat. I will say, the spices were different from Kazakh plov, but there didn’t seem to be that much more meat in it, lol. Either way the plov was delicious. While eating, he handed us Kyrgyz hats to wear. I’d brought mine along that I bought before the hike, and Zack and Samyr put theirs on. We sat and talked about Kyrgyzstan, America, and the hike. He gave us Kyrgyz names based on our real names, with my name being Imil and Zacks being Zameer. He then presumably blessed us, because he spat out words at a mile a minute, while I heard our Kyrgyz names, Ala Kul lake, photographia, Amerika, and Kyrgyzstan. We made it safely, so I suppose it was a blessing (not a curse 😳).

It was time to face the beast: Ala Kul Pass. It wasn’t that tall, less than 1,000 ft after we’d done over 3,000 in the morning. But when we left the yurt to see what our next hour of fate would be, I was truly intimidated. This was not a trail like any we had done previously. This was a wall of rock, dust, and gravel going up at an impossibly steep angle. And I also was wearing my Keens, so I knew all those rocks would end up underneath my feet as soon as I started the ascent.

In terms of physical exertion, I wasn’t too drained. I ascended slowly enough that that’s not what got to me. But what was so difficult was just making any progress whatsoever. Every time I moved, rocks would slide out from underneath me and I’d end up lower than I started! People going down were scooting on their butts, and a constant stream of rocks was heading my way. When I looked to my left, I saw that one slip in the wrong direction and I’d tumble for quite a while… After lots of encouragement from others struggling as much as I was, and from Zack who somehow defied gravity and climbed the thing in 20 minutes, I finally made it to the top, where I was greeted by an amazing view of Ala Kul. In the sunlight, the snowmelt water was bright blue, contrasting so amazingly with the deep blacks of the surrounding mountains and the bright white of the glacier. We stayed at the top for an hour, admiring the view and talking with other hikers.

The way down to the camp site was not much easier than the way up… again, many more steep rocks that would cascade as soon as you put pressure on them. Eventually we made it to camp and celebrated with more fly filled dried apricots.

The fifth day was supposed to be our shortest, only just over 6 miles. So of course, Zack wanted to make more of the day. We hiked to the glacier at the end of the lake and treaded on it for a while. The views of the ice running all the way to the top of the peaks was also spectacular, and we enjoyed just walking around and admiring. On the way down I fell and cut myself, but not all that bad. We went back to camp to have lunch and start our descent to our final yurt camp.

The descent was painfully steep, and again, the path was all dust and gravel. It took about two hours of careful footing to get down. I was exhausted by the end. We then descended a good 1,500 ft into our final valley: Karakol Gorge.

The next morning, we walked the 13 miles back into Karakol, right to our hostel to complete the trek.

Overall, I enjoyed the trek, but I’m now incredibly sore and my ankles have certainly felt better. I’m glad I did it, but I probably won’t be doing anything similar any time soon…