Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
We passed through the villages of Niya and Magistralni, where most of the
vehicles were off-road trucks, four-wheel drives and motorbikes.
Locals repeatedly informed us that crossing the Baikal Range would be impos-
sible. 'There is no road going over the Baikal mountains! You realise you will have
to walk, and you won't make it. The gravel stones up there are the size of foot-
balls. I can't even drive over there in my four-wheel drive,' said one man who was
angered by our indifference.
Further on we descended into marshy land where the forest was clearly being
harvested. In the village of Ulgan, children described how Japanese businessmen
often visited by helicopter. 'They are taking our forest! A few years ago there was
good forest right up to the edge of the village. Now you have to go a long, long
way to find berries, and hunters also have to travel far,' complained one boy.
Not far from Ulgan I caught my first glimpse of the mountains. The high series
of craggy peaks ran right across the horizon and cut a jagged silhouette into the pale
blue. They launched far above the forest, draped in small white glaciers. A shiver
of excitement ran through me. The treeless terrain with a network of crevices and
snow-choked gullies was the first true mountains we had come to in almost 7000
kilometres.
We camped at the base of the steep slopes and awoke in anticipation of a rig-
orous challenge. The day began under a burly, overcast sky that precipitated light
rain. The road soon deteriorated so badly that we were dodging cavernous gullies
and potholes large enough to swallow a Lada. Sharp shards of slate and rocks fallen
from above replaced the gravel.
The high peaks were shrouded in misty cloud that swept across barren slopes,
curling and wafting like smoke blown from a fire. Now and then, through the thin-
ner mist, I could make out the white patches of snowdrifts clinging onto perilously
steep terrain. Further on we passed over bridges that consisted of a few planks and
logs laid across the rapids and bound with fencing wire. Each plank was just wide
enough for a car tyre.
Then the road began to rise and, suddenly, the forested plains slipped from view.
We were surrounded by the mountains. Glancing up I saw thin white strips of wa-
ter gushing their way down from unseen heights like unravelling toilet rolls from
the heavens. I felt dwarfed by the rocky slope that rose to the right. It was exciting
to be back in the grandeur of the mountainous terrain that, although enveloped in
clouds, began to reveal the detail that had been a mystery from a distance.
