Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
We stormed down the banks of the River Karagem. We'd crossed it where it
started, just below the glacier, the previous day, but within a few kilometres it had
become a deep, wide torrent of raging white water. We stomped down the val-
ley across slippery rockslides and through rough, wet scrub. We crossed tributary
rivers running off glaciers; the water was so cold that my calf muscles cramped up
and my feet snap-froze so badly that I reached the far side crying out in pain. We
both faded around mid-morning, but after a small and invigorating lunch we were
back on foot and charging through a heathy swamp, southwards along the banks of
the river.
It started raining later in the afternoon, but things improved when we found an
overgrown vehicle track next to a long disused field. We literally raced along for
a few kilometres before unexpectedly spotting a large wooden walker's hut in the
distance.
We approached it eagerly. People often leave surplus food behind and we
gloated about our chances of finding something extra to eat. If we were lucky, there
might be an abandoned block of chocolate. Or maybe someone would have left be-
hind a packet of pasta and a tin of meat.
We raced to the door and I swear I actually saw Tim drooling. But, to our dis-
may, inside was not the cupboard full of ownerless food we'd been hoping for, but
half a dozen startled girls wearing the T-shirts of the Moscow University Trekking
Club.
I could see the bitter disappointment in Tim's eyes. He turned his face into the
drizzle and glared heavenwards. I could almost read his thoughts.
Food
, God! It
was a nice warm hut full of
food
that we wanted! Not a nice warm hut full of
beau-
tiful girls
, darn it!
But then, as though in answer to his ad hoc prayer, one of the girls moved away
from the table to reveal a huge pile of freshly cooked pancakes. Our knees begun
to wobble violently and Tim started drooling again.
One or two of the girls still looked frightened, but the others were intrigued.
One of them cautiously invited us in to share a pancake and dry out by the fire. We
left our packs outside the door, stripped our dripping jackets and headed inside for
a comfortable hour of conversation and a mouth-watering pancake or two as our
clothes steamed by the fire.
A little later, we were joined by another large party. They had arrived earlier
in the day, and now they were returning to the warmth of the fire after setting up
their camp in the forest. One couple was carrying a six-month-old baby on a ten-
