This report is about the tour: Above the Sea
Story about the hike “Over the Sea” (19.-24.08.2007)
I want to share my impressions of a recent trip “over the sea”. Although this particular hike of ours can safely be renamed a “run across the desert plateaus,” since we more or less stuck to the intended route for exactly two days. Everything else was a complete improvisation, caused by the sweltering heat and acute lack of water (many sources simply dried up).
There was also tension with food, or rather with its insufficient quantity (they sent messengers for bread). But this is not the first time I went for a walk with a backpack in Crimea and I understand perfectly well that life, weather, people (that is, Circumstances) always adjust previously made plans. The impression from this “excursion” remained ambiguous: on the one hand, I am very pleased that I finally visited Babugan and the Arbor of the Winds (I was with friends in April of this year in the Crimea and we planned to go through these places, but, having already climbed the Nikitskaya yayla, we changed the route!!). On the other hand, there was a slight dissatisfaction with the fact that we did not reach Laspi Bay - there was not enough time. The best and most positive emotions on this journey for me are associated with the communication process, with the psychological climate that developed in the group - it was really fun, no one “stressed” anyone, there were no quarrels or misunderstandings. I was amazed by the “technical equipment”: in addition to the obligatory map, compass and boilers, an ax, a band saw...
The first day of the hike was marked by very minor changes in the route: we started from the village of Vinogradny outside Alushta, and not from Maly Mayak, as planned. Mount Paragilmen, thus, remained in an unattainable distance, visible in a slight haze. In the evening we saw “very close” the Bird Rock - Mt. Kush-Kaya (1339m), which we decided to conquer the next day. As far as I remember, in Crimea, any mountain or rock that at least somewhat resembles a beak, wing or a whole bird is called “Kush-Kaya” (including the famous city of Sokol on the south-eastern coast). We spent the night on a mountainside in a beech forest. The spring near which we stood seemed to flow directly from under a huge old beech tree.
On the morning of the second day we went to our “Bird Rock”, having climbed onto which we felt the sweet feeling of flying over the plain - the view of Alushta and the surrounding area in a golden haze, the hot wind in the face...
Further, our path was “thorny” - along a sun-scorched plateau with sparse thickets of thistles, thistles and some other “thorns” unknown to me. A sparse growth of wind-worn pine trees, earth cracked from the heat, red dry grass - this is how we saw the highest place of Taurida - the Babugan plateau. Almost all day we trample its dust, so that by early evening we reach the foot of the “top of Crimea” - Mount Roman-Kosh (1545 m). – I wasn’t impressed: up close it looks like an inexpressive hill among several similar hills, a lifeless red hillock on an equally lifeless plateau. And only, having climbed to the very top of this mountain, you suddenly feel a sharp cold wind and see in front of you a beautiful panorama of the mountainous Crimea with the rocky town of Eklizi-Burun, one of the peaks of the Chatyr-Dag plateau, especially standing out against the general background of the “hills”. Here we saw a miracle: the sun was shining above us, and below, in the valley, it was raining - we could see whole streams of water pouring out of the clouds.
We never reached the Arbor of the Winds that day (either the heat, or the lack of water stopped us) - the source in which we expected to replenish the supply was almost dry: the water did not flow, but dripped. It was decided to collect water all night and only then move to the gazebo.
The morning of the 3rd day is as hot as the previous ones. An idea flashed through: to go at night. (I don’t know who first expressed it, but I can guess who “submitted it”: for the first two nights our camp was “stumbled upon” by tourists walking with flashlights in the pitch darkness). But in the morning it was still just an inexpressive and uncertain “thought” (far from a plan!). Therefore, without deviating from the route, we cheerfully went to the Gurzuf yayla, visited the Gazebo of the Winds, admired the views of Gurzuf and the Fairy Tale Gorge; We went further - to Yalta and the extraordinary beauty of the tracts going down. We sat for a long time, experiencing visible beauty. And then the plan for the night transition finally matured: by majority vote they decided that there was nothing to do on the town of Ai-Petri, it was too “cultivated”, there was no water in the Karadag forest, and naturally we wouldn’t go to the Devil’s Staircase either (goodbye, Foros, the Baydar Gate and Laspi Bay). I expressed a weak protest against “going at night” (I still have memories of the trip to the Grand Canyon of Crimea, which my friends and I did in August 2006: we left on August 19, the day when Novobogdanovka exploded and were delayed on the way for more than a day. In order not to change the route, we walked during the day and captured part of the night). – And now, at the words “night march”, my knees, which had been knocked down last year, began to ache of their own accord, and slight signs of “depression” appeared in the form of muttering and general dissatisfaction... But this mood quickly passed and was replaced by joyful excitement - anticipation of an adventure! (It’s a good thing, though, that life rarely goes according to plan).
We stopped for the night in some “hollow” hidden in an old beech forest; at the top, also in the forest, they found the remains of some stone structures (Vladimir, the guide, said that these were old, 100-year-old sheep pens and places where shepherds spent the night). At the source, which flows near our site, several “troughs” are placed in a row, with ledges downwards, the third from the source is exclusive - hollowed out from a single tree trunk, the rest are modern “pieces of iron”. Apparently in this place they watered those sheep or goats whose “sheds” we saw above. The evening is spent discussing the “night” and making jokes about it.
For the fourth day we are not moving anywhere: the messengers have gone to the village for provisions. We either eat a lot or store little food. Lunch-snacks, frankly speaking, are very meager (a piece of bread with pate, a couple of slices of sausage and tea). – In the evening, the muscles turn into “jelly” and the legs themselves refuse to move. While our “deputies” are scouring in search of bread, those remaining in the camp thoroughly explore the surroundings. The most interesting object is the same abandoned “pen”: we find that someone is constantly using them, living for a living or spending the night: fresh straw in the “bedroom”, a tablecloth in the “living room”, forgotten trousers... Next to our “basin” we find several more similar depressions with beautiful piles of stones and fern growths.
Our “messengers” returned with bread (they only bought it in the second village), so now we don’t have to save food. At about eight in the evening we set off - a night trek along the Ai-Petrinskaya Yayla. We rise up from our habitable “cauldron” - a divine picture of Crimean nature opens from the slope, colored by the rays of the setting sun. (For the sake of such a sunset, you can do it “at night”!).
Just before going out into the night, someone said: “What a pity! Such a wonderful place that you don’t want to leave!” Andrey, who spent half a day buying bread, added: “Yes, and, most importantly, the store is nearby!”
The moon rose - it became almost light and the road was not as difficult as it seemed. They walked very quickly. I don’t know about others, but I was a little depressed by the monotonous picture - dark silhouettes of trees, an “orange” moon and white stones under our feet, by which we “recognized” the road. For the sake of “dispelling the darkness,” someone began to tell jokes, so as not to change the already established tradition: at night - stories and jokes, and the fact that we are not sitting by the fire, but stomping along the road is not important. The main thing is the right attitude. I was a little unsettled by the meeting with the foresters, who strictly demanded an explanation and a map of the route. After some negotiations, we move on. It worked out. (In light of subsequent events - the fire in the Alupka forestry - their actions seem quite natural).
We settle down for the “overnight” a little before reaching the intended place - the slope of At-Bash Mountain (1196m) above Simeiz. Everyone is packing up. Me and a few other “suffering” people are nibbling on sandwiches and chocolate. But even food does not have a calming effect - sleep is gone. Everyone is sleeping, and I, like a sleepwalker, light a fire, and then, climbing onto the nearest rock, I watch the dawn. - This is something! – When in the east, in the dark sky, first a dim strip of cold pink light appears, and then in the forest the birds begin to make their voices louder and louder. And you can visibly feel how the darkness gradually recedes, how the strip of pink light becomes brighter and wider...
I sleep for two hours and get up with everyone around nine in the morning. After breakfast we move camp to At-Bash. – A wonderful sight opens from our new parking lot: forested slopes, below, far, far away is the city of Koshka and the village of Simeiz. To the left is the rocky peak of At-Bash (translated from the Turkic language as “Horse Head”). - It doesn’t look like it.
Leaving the “guard” (Sveta) we make a radial exit to the Tatyana Grotto cave. It turned out that it was not that close to our parking lot. The karst cave, called Tatyana's Grotto, exceeded all expectations: the most beautiful sagging in the form of huge mushrooms and draperies, the quiet patter of drops... Back to At-Bash we go along another road, as if describing a large circle. We return at sunset; in front of the camp we go out onto rocky cliffs that look like ancient stonework: there ahead is the sea, merging with the sky, again - Simeiz and picturesque rocks looking out of the water
Before parking we come across a large dogwood bush with relatively ripe berries (well, almost ripe) - we cover it as much as we can get. “In the evening, the mixture of this dogwood, wild pears, mountain herbs and tea itself made a very good hot drink: something between compote and tea.
Last evening in the mountains, “over the sea”! (We returned to him). – At-Bash in the rays of sunset, pink pine trunks, leisurely conversation, stars above your head, the joy of live communication - everything for which it’s worth going on such hikes.
The morning of a new day, the last day - the Day of Independence of Ukraine and the day of return to civilization. A little sad about the upcoming parting with newfound friends. We got along so well (in the literal sense of the word) - I hope we will go together more than once, both to our native Crimea and to more distant mountains.
...A long descent along the slopes, crossing the town of Koshka and the appearance of a not at all glamorous group of people with backpacks on the Simeiz beach (but we immediately found a place) - swimming, gatherings before saying goodbye.
– Goodbye again, friends!
- See you again and new adventures!
Ira Shartavskaya,
Dnepropetrovsk, Ukraine