Travel Reference
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shaped lake glistened serenely, the dead-calm surface presenting an upside-down
image of the wondrous prospect that lay beyond.
Slowly I lifted my gaze from the magnetic beauty of the lake to take in a view
that literally dominated the horizon. From left to right a towering, savage, rocky
ridgeline bit into the sky. Sheer cliffs soared hundreds of metres above rough scree
slopes and impossible pinnacles towered majestically upwards as though reach-
ing out to touch the sky. The sun was slowly setting behind us, painting the en-
tire ridgeline a fiery orange. I stood transfixed, oblivious to the sound of Ray and
Brendan struggling to join us. My gaze slowly focused on one of the rocky peaks.
We hadn't planned our route from here on. The Poms wanted to stay a while and
that suited me just fine. My mind registered an appointment and I broke out in a
manic grin. That peak was mine!
We camped by the lake and spent a day relaxing and exploring the valley. The
owners of the hut were an elderly couple of semi-nomadic Altai sheep and horse
herders who had their two little granddaughters up from the city for the school hol-
idays. They spoke a little Russian as well as their native Altaic and we soon made
friends. They spent every summer in the mountains, rearing their flock of sheep
and their herd of horses, coming up on horseback and living self-sufficiently for
months.
We trekked to the top of the valley, climbed small pinnacles and shot reams of
photos and video film. Brendan played beautiful, haunting tendrils of rhythm on his
didgeridoo that echoed from the crags all around. We watched the horses frolicking
in the valley beyond and had tea with the locals in their hut. No matter what I did,
it seemed, my eyes were always drawn to the monstrous range towering above.
We made a brilliant tent sauna that night by heating rocks in the guts of a huge,
raging bonfire. After a few hours, when the fire died down a bit, we shifted the red,
glowing rocks into a shallow hole nearby and erected a dome-tent over the furnace.
We climbed in and poured bottles of water to unleash steam before running outside
and jumping into the freezing lake to swim naked under the stars.
The next day we set out with small packs and climbed 1000 metres to one of
the nearer peaks on the mighty range. It was rocky and wild, and we had to do
a lot of exposed scrambling to reach the summit, but the view from the top was
worth the effort. Before us - twenty kilometres or so further to the south - we could
clearly see the next big range. It was the main one: the Altai Range. In places, it
rose nearly 2000 metres above us. The peaks were white and icy and the saddles
