This report is about the tour: Ghost Valley
A greatly abbreviated diary of the "Water and Stones" hike May 1-6, 2009.
Why do people go into the taiga, climb into the wilds of the Amazon, spend months at polar stations, make treks through deserts?... This question has long interested me, and not even from the point of view that they are depriving themselves of some benefits of civilization and moving away from the usual way of their sluggish life, but from the perspective of searching for a somewhat lost, but nevertheless absolutely necessary connection with nature. An unknown force pulls us there, some succumb to it, some stubbornly resist. I'm among the first.
It all started with a desire. The desire to spend your next vacation in an unusual, pretentious way if you like. Just try something new. In addition, the vacation coincided with the vacations of friends. We went to Crimea together, it was doubly inspiring.
So, having reached Simferopol in the morning, and having looked around at the station, we stopped at the meeting place, waiting for the appointed hour. From time to time, members of our group came up, introduced themselves, and joked. Having introduced us to the instructor, Oleg Samotolkov, the organizers suggested getting down to business. We honestly divided the stew and other fruits of the canning industry into backpacks, and then, as usual, we took a group photo.
The weather was deteriorating before our eyes, clouds covered the ultramarine morning Ukrainian sky, there was no time to unwind, so we immediately went to the trolleybus stop. While waiting for the trolleybus, we ate aromatic coffee from local fast food. A fast two-horned trolleybus took us to the place without any problems, leaving us at Perevalny. This is where the transition begins.
The sky did not promise anything good from the very first day. Having risen above Perevalny, we made our way along the Ishacha Trail. On one side there was a magnificent view from above, on the other - a “monkey” made faces at us. There are different opinions about this term. To the point that this is a purely Crimean definition of quickly coming fog in the mountains. The acquaintance was fleeting, and we did not take her seriously, and she, as if looking at the guests, shifted her furry body along the slopes. However, we encountered “monkeys” more than once throughout the entire route.
The magnificent spring mountain flora immediately caught my eye. Previously unknown flowers and young leaves of trees delighted the eyes of us and the tourists we met many times along the way. We greeted each other and exchanged wishes. The climbs didn’t seem so painful yet, and the weather allowed us to relax for a while, but soon everything changed. Coming closer to Chetyr-Dag, Oleg, complaining about the weather, suggested stopping at a camp site and walking through the caves. We agreed, left our things and went on an excursion.
I was impressed by the Bottomless Well cave, and, of course, Emine-Bair-Khosar, where we went down with a speleologist instructor. The next day began with a weather forecast. Oleg delayed the time to leave; a thick fog settled in at night. Having had breakfast and wrapped ourselves in raincoats, we decided to move on. At the camp site they wished us good luck and good weather.
The fog reduced visibility to half a meter, as if you were the hero of an exciting computer game. The route went through the Tissovoye Gorge to the Angarsk Pass. This meant that there was a constant ahead, turning into a steep, dangerous descent on wet ground with stones and last year's leaves. Oleg advised us to make trekking poles from the paste material, which certainly came in handy on the descent. We had to descend carefully, joining together in a chain, belaying each other.
Along the way we met a dozen horses and their owners warming themselves by the fire. Following us, the “monkey” also descended to the Angarsk Pass; his feet were wet from mud and precipitation. Having warmed up with tea and sandwiches, having made shoe covers from garbage bags, we, inspired by the two bottles of vodka we had just bought, decided to spend the night in the open air, despite the unfriendly “monkey”. The fire, pasta with stew and tea with vodka did their job - some members of the group kept others from sleeping with their laughter and funny stories, as it turned out the next morning.
In the morning I woke up from drops of condensation falling on my face - Oleg impatiently approached the tents, unobtrusively knocking on the walls with the phrase: “People, it’s time to get up...”. This phrase became a catchphrase and was repeated almost every morning. The sky was clear, the millet porridge was a success, the dried sneakers hugged my feet warmly, and I had to get ready to go. The weather, having pleased us in the morning, changed the scenery again and forced us to put on raincoats.
Ahead is a steep climb to Orta-Kosh, the fog again obscured the view, sometimes dissipating. This did not stop us from taking photographs; fortunately, even in the fog there were many objects. Having walked along the slopes of Northern Demeredzhi, we went down to the Dzhurla waterfall. This was supposed to be our third stop. Again the fire, again the fire water in tea and the guitar awakened our hearts, Oleg played something touristy. Porridge and hot tea dispelled the remnants of sleep in the morning, and we were ready to move forward again.
Now we had to go down to the Jur-Jur waterfall. The monkey did not spare us, dropping drops onto our bright raincoats. On the way we came across an Izh motorcycle leaning against a tree. It would be stupid not to take advantage of the moment, and we took turns taking pictures in the saddle of this green miracle of technology. It seemed to me that the apparatus was warm - the riders must have gone out for a while on business. And indeed, after some time, when we had already forgotten about the two-wheeled vehicle, it appeared behind with three riders on board and overtook, kneading the mud.
We left our backpacks at the waterfall ticket office and went to explore the sight. Naturally, the waterfall attracted a lot of tourists and those simply interested, since it can be reached in a civilized manner. Having captured a group sex against the backdrop of Jur-Dzhur, under the rays of the Crimean sun that suddenly appeared, we went down to Generalskoye. After having a snack and replenishing our supplies of sausages and warming liquid, we waved to the monkey that was left behind and headed off to Ai-Alexiy.
Along the way the weather became completely clear. Some exposed their limbs for tanning. In the evening we reached the holy spring and set up camp nearby. The dinner, seasoned with Oleg's horror stories, was wonderful as always. However, we quickly went to bed. The morning of the fifth day began with burnt porridge. But hunger, as you know, is not an aunt, and, having refreshed ourselves, we decided to move out; the journey lay ahead for a long time. The clear sky and the sea flickering in the distance beckoned forward.
First we had to climb to the top of Takye Tene, 1263 meters above sea level. Along the way, a huge number of beautiful photographs were taken, fortunately the views were breathtaking; Chetyr-Dag was visible - practically the beginning of the transition. A terrible wind awaited us at the top, and besides, everyone was terribly hungry while climbing Takye-Tene. At the general request, a snack was organized. I have never had a meal in the open air so high before. Next we went down to the Mountain Karst of Crimea and through the Big Gate came to Chegenitra.
We walked down the so-called loose ground, the stones under our feet evaporated the feeling of confidence with every step. The sun was scorching, some even managed to get sunburned, so they needed sunscreen. The last stop happened near the lake, which gave me the opportunity to wash my face and finally wash my hair. A delicious dinner under a clear starry sky and the sounds of a guitar added unforgettable impressions to the collection of memories.
A sunny morning woke us up joyfully. There was just a little bit left. After breakfast, we began to get ready, Oleg drew the route we had taken on the map. Our road passed through the vineyards to Rybachye. And then the sea. The grapes timidly showed green leaves. Oh, I wish I could come here in August-September!
Relatively quickly we reached Rybachy. A small town, so to speak, “all inclusive” for tourists. At the entrance we tried the local heavenly ice cream. Then, according to established tradition, we went to a cafe: pasties, beer and a view of the sea - practically the fulfillment of secret fantasies. Chebureks seemed to be the food of the gods, and beer was their drink. The sea was noisy, the wind carried the cry of seagulls.
All that remained was to exchange mobile phone numbers and email addresses. It's time to say goodbye. A group photo as a souvenir against the backdrop of the endless Black Sea and then our paths diverge. Although there was also a separate evening by the sea, and then an unforgettable sunrise... but that’s a completely different story.
P.S. I would like to say a huge “I love you” to the participants in this historic transition. Thanks to Oleg for his unfading sense of humor and compassion for the morning’s slurred faces. A huge thank you to Vladimir and Anechka for the wonderful mood in the camp. Respect to Svetlana and Alexander for keeping us on our toes always, everywhere and forever and ever. Salute to Alexey and good luck in life. Dyakuyu for the four-seater cargo Irishka. Special thanks to Vyacheslav and Tatyana for kindly providing a place in the tent, it was warm and fun ;) I am sure that the meeting was not accidental and we will meet again.
June 2009 (c) Dmitry Vovk