The Lost World of Ayan. Rafting on the Mikchangda River
One of the most interesting components of the local landscape. There are more than 22 thousand lakes here, and they occupy about 10% of the plateau area. Nowhere in the world are there such a number of long (50–150 km) and deep (50–420 m) lakes in a limited area as on the Putorana Plateau.
The largest Putorana lakes arose in large basalt cracks, which are very similar to fjords northern Norway, just not on the coast, but in the middle of the land. The total volume of water in Putorana lakes is the second largest surface reservoir fresh water in Russia after Lake Baikal. Largest lakes(Lama, Omuk-Kyuel, Yt-Kyuel, Keta, Khantaiskoye, Kutaramakan) cut into the plateau from the west.
The second place in depth is occupied by lakes preserved in the old beds of large rivers that abandoned their valleys during the restructuring of the hydraulic network. A huge number of small and medium-sized lakes by local standards are occupied by oxbow lakes, thermokarst baths and depressions in basalt.
Local lakes have almost the same composition of basic crystalline rocks, which makes it easier to identify the climatic and chemical-biological components of the landscape. All lakes on the plateau are flowing, that is, with relatively rapid water exchange. This is one of the reasons for the low mineralization of water - from 13 to 42 mg/l - which is very close to ordinary rainwater, both in purity and taste. For comparison, Baikal water has a mineralization from 93 to 150 mg/l. When I was on the Putorana plateau in July-August 2015, even the seasoned participants in our hike often froze due to the very “soft” water. The fact is that soap in such water takes longer to wash off the body, so considerable effort had to be made. And the water was also cold, especially in the summit lakes - about 5°C!
It would seem that in constantly cold water, as in Baikal, oxygen saturates the entire water column (the oxygen content even in winter does not fall below 8 mg/l), but due to the sparse aquatic vegetation and the slow soil-forming process, the content of nutrients in lake waters is extremely insignificantly, which slows down the development of life in lakes.
The aesthetic significance of the plateau territory for sophisticated travelers is given by numerous waterfalls, differing both in shape and in flow power. Their scale and quantity are impressive (the Putorana Plateau has the largest concentration of waterfalls in Russia and, possibly, in the world). Here, on the Kanda River, there is one of the highest waterfalls in Russia - 108 meters high.
Perhaps in no other region of Russia is there such a contradictory constructed hydrographic network as in the Putorana mountains. It combines typical mountain streams with numerous rapids and waterfalls and deep basins occupied by flowing lakes and thick sediments. In some areas of the plateau, the rivers are typically flat with a silt-covered bottom - where the water did not have time to cut through the quickly rising surface. The beds of many rivers are dotted with canyons.
The combination of features of both a mountain and a lowland river is clearly visible in the example of the intricately curving Kureyka. Its history is closely connected with the ancient river, which existed on Putorana before the rise of the territory and crossed almost the entire middle, currently highest, part of the plateau. The source of the river was north of Lake Ayan, and its bed ran southeast through the modern middle part of the Kureyka valley into the Lower Tunguska basin. Tectonic movements that redistributed runoff ancient river about 10 thousand years ago, caused the emergence of two beautiful fissure lakes: Ayan (55 km in length, maximum depth 256 m) and Anama (54 km in length, maximum depth 120 m). In the former bed of the Kureyka there are residual lakes: Monomakli, Omutachi, Yadun. Along the southwestern part of the plateau, another ancient and subsequently also rebuilt river valley was discovered - Vivi-Agatskaya.
Due to active tectonic movements, all the fissure lakes of the plateau deepened. New deep cracks have appeared almost perpendicular to their previous directions, so the lakes on Putorana have angular outlines - with the exception of large lakes in the western part, which have bends only in their eastern ends, which are located directly in the mountains. At the bottom of Lake Agata, standing larches were discovered - evidence of the modern deepening of the lake.
Photo © Dmitry Zamorin from the site westsib.ru.
See also about the geography and geology of the Putorana Plateau:
Putorana stepped plateau, “Elements”, 09/27/2016.
Fedor Shabalin
|
Passing the Putorana plateau from west to east entirely on foot, throughout July 2017. Route thread Lake Lama - r. Bucharama - r. Geological - lake Rotary - r. Minkchangda - lake Bogatyr - lake Neralakh - lake Negu – Iken – r. Ayan - r. Porogistaya - r. Holokit, along the river along the plateau to the source - the river. Nirakachi - r. Oran (upstream, downstream) - r. Khibarba - waterfall on the river. Kanda - r. Nurakachi-Sen – r. Nirukachi - r. Khigdekit - r. Amudkachi-Dyl - r. Hoikta - r. Lupaga - r. Ivan-Yuryakh - lake. Sebyaki - r. Arbakun - r. Yangisa - lake Yangisa - r. Maymecha - r. Antykit - r. Chigidy – top. 742 – top. 820 – r. Sumna - village Essene. |
Through the Putorana plateau to Essey
The idea of the hike was charged in the head of Alexander Beloglazov back in 2013, in a cloudberry field on the Main Ural Range, in the north of the Sverdlovsk region, when they were picking berries for future compote. Boldly declaring to conquer the Putorana plateau. I hadn't heard much about the place at the time, and especially the logistics of getting around the place. It seemed to me like something impossible in my head - the places are extremely wild and harsh, but I thought that nothing is impossible if there is a positive combination of factors such as a specific goal, precise planning, physical training, the presence of some technical means (like parkraft, previously unknown) and Of course, there is some financial component.
With a new idea in his head that appeared literally out of the blue, on a wonderful cloudberry field, he enthusiastically continued the conquest of the Main Ural Range, using every opportunity for physical and psychological development in real conditions.
We finished that hike as the initial stage of conquering the plateau, the purpose of which, at least for me, in addition to walking from Severouralsk to Ivdel through the mountains, was also to test my physical fitness. The ability to travel many kilometers throughout the day in difficult conditions of absolute off-road conditions.
The Putorana Plateau is considered one of the most hard to reach places in Russia and the world, despite the fact that it is the geographical center of Russia, in these places not far from the Putorana plateau, on Lake Vivi, on its southeastern shore, its center is located. Those places with a harsh climate, with absolutely uncertain weather, where there can be snow, heavy rains, strong winds in summer, combined with multiple midges. Uncertain natural conditions, lack of information on routes, high cost of logistics of these places keep many people interested in tourism far from Putorana, which is why many kilometers will be considered a first ascent, in many sections of the route in particular.
The main uncertain factor for the event is the weather at Lake Lama. Because the starting point had to be reached by motor boat. In the worst cases, ice on Lake Lama can last until July. In our case, literally at the beginning of the hike, it was not clear whether we would be able to start on time.
Five hours to Tyumen by train, I tried to get some sleep, managed to sleep for a couple of hours, the conductor woke me up in advance. The weather was beautiful in Tyumen, the sun was rising over the horizon. 40 minutes waiting for a bus to the airport and almost 40 minutes on a deserted Friday road.
At the check-in desk they offered to pay for excess luggage (and this is hand luggage that I wanted to take with me on the plane), I didn’t think for a long time, I, of course, said that I would throw away the excess. I ate the rest of the pies that I took with me, put on some clothes and hid a couple of kilos under an anorak in a small backpack, which I put on myself, it turned out to be a hunchback, it’s good that they still put hunchbacks on the plane.
The old Boeing was landed in Novy Urengoy after three hours of flight, where suddenly for me, before leaving, they checked the luggage I had received, namely whether it belonged to me. However, they checked everyone so that they did not leave without their luggage. As usual, I was afraid for my luggage, since situations with problematic delivery do happen and I have encountered, my backpack was one of the last ones to leave in a black ribbon, I breathed a sigh of relief. The flight was not transit, we had to check in again and weigh our luggage, this time to hand luggage didn't find fault. On this day there were two flights to Norilsk, one was literally 30 minutes from the other. Just in case the plane from Tyumen was delayed, I took the second plane to Norilsk. But in the end it turned out that the first plane was delayed, so it went after the second, if it went at all. I flew to Norilsk on schedule, tried to get some more sleep, I felt sleep deprived upon landing in Norilsk. From the plane window there was a sad picture; the sky was overcast for hundreds of kilometers in all directions. For some reason, they checked my documents at the airport, like everyone else, I’ve never encountered this before. The guys were already waiting on the Norilka River by the boat that was going to take us to the starting point at Lake Lama. And while I was waiting for the bus to Norilsk, I quickly checked the information on where to get off and where to transfer to the bus to this river. It was raining lightly, cool, 9 degrees Celsius. On the bus I prepared for the hike, tied my foot wraps and put on rubber boots. Sometimes there was snow along the roads, the woman was surprised and shared her surprises with me, it was beautiful in its own way, endless pipes along the endless tundra, steam coming from artificial reservoirs, as if the hot springs were not far from the city. The weather is gloomy, as is the city itself. Norilsk airport is located far from the city, 42 km, it took more than an hour to get to the city, then another 20 minutes of waiting for a transfer at the Central Market, and another forty minutes of driving to the stop at the bridge where the pier is located. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to really see the city; we quickly passed through the entire city and immediately ran to the boat, where we met our “captain” Ilya, who gave us special thick, orange, rubber clothes, since it was supposed to be cold and wet. I took the missing elements of the layout, which the guys who had arrived earlier on the ship from Krasnoyarsk kindly brought across “the whole country” so that I could not overpay for baggage on the plane.
Each person carried approximately 30 kg to the start of the route, including food supplies for 27 days.
Before this, there were some fears that there might be a lot of ice on the lake and we might not be able to swim, but apparently, Ilya somehow found out information about the state of the water through his channels - we sailed according to schedule. About seven o'clock our time, local time plus two hours. It was agreed that the entire hike would take place on our time, and the full daylight hours did not interfere with our plans. By 12 midnight they were supposed to sail to the mouth of the Bucharama River.
We passed Lake Melkoe. As Ilya said, it is “Shallow” because the water is usually knee-deep in it, but at this time there was clearly more water, the bottom was not visible, the trees closest to the shore were flooded with water, apparently the season had just begun and the water was even greater. We stopped at some island, felt that it was very cold, put on extra warm clothes - especially when the splashes of the crashing waves motor boat, driven by the side wind, flooded my hands and sometimes my face. The water was cold, and the deeper we went into the Putorana “fjords,” the more we froze. Sometimes the waves reached one and a half meters, it was quite fun to swim, especially when the boat was able to jump over the waves from acceleration. In some places the wind died down, so it was possible to swim along the water surface at greater speed. Sometimes we stopped to add gasoline to empty tanks. The first Putorana flat peaks began to appear on the sides, on which snowfields still lay somewhere, and sometimes waterfalls were visible. Approximately in the middle of the lake we stopped for a snack; the stop was near some hut, there were axes and firewood lying there. Batteries were not interesting, and with the help of firewood and an ax you could warm up a little. Low clouds advanced, licking the flat peaks, slowly rolling over them. There was no rain; in the evening the sun sometimes peeked through the clouds, so it became noticeably warmer. There was almost no ice on the lake, only a couple of small ice patches adjacent to the right bank
Local residents, and not only in Norilsk, but throughout the north, call the rest of Russia “the mainland,” and this is due to whether this place is connected by a railway or a road. The only way to get out is by air or water. Indeed, it seems that the places are so inaccessible that you live as if across the sea.
There is a lot of water in all the rivers and in the lake itself; the shore goes 150 meters towards the mountains. According to the plan, they wanted to land on the left bank of the Bucherama River, but they couldn’t find a place to get off; the water flooded the dense bushes and strewn garbage. As a result, we stopped on the shore, where there were ufologists’ houses. There were two or three houses where one could sleep; there was no roof as such; the entire house was wrapped in thick polyethylene, made from small larch trees. There was a swing in the water, it was flooded with Lama's flood, one of the houses was flooded in the corner. We decided to settle in the largest house, it was clean inside, there was a stove, but since it was not very cold, we decided to just put a tent inside, just in case to escape from mosquitoes, although for some reason there were none, despite the warning from the Ministry of Emergency Situations that they many. By the way, they also warned that they would not rescue us by helicopter under our insurance if something happened, since operating a private helicopter costs 190 thousand per hour.
I didn’t want to have dinner, I wanted to sleep, since it was already past midnight, and I had to get up at seven in the morning.
On Lake Ayan, where a month earlier the expedition of the Institute’s Fisheries Laboratory landed agriculture Far North, we were abandoned by a plane that had taken off to inspect the spring concentrations of wild deer. The desire of game biologists to find out how the “savage” herd survived the winter and in what condition the deer would begin their traditional march to the ocean shores came in handy for us. Otherwise, it is unknown when else we would have been able to get there.
On the day of departure, an unexpectedly large number of passengers boarded the plane. Correspondents from Norilsk Television were with us, and the pilots, who saw the “loading” with their own eyes, initially refused to take off. Bronislav Borzhonov, the terror of the Taimyr wolves, who had flown with the pilots more than once, came to the rescue. For a long time he confidently convinced the pilots that backpacks and boxes only seemed so weighty in appearance. He opened one huge box and showed that it was empty, prepared for taking samples, and in the end he achieved his goal: he persuaded the pilots to take everyone on the flight. He turned around with a satisfied face, and then we saw his eyebrows creep up.
“That’s all we needed!” - he hummed, noticing a tiny dog from the breed of those cute bow-legged creatures that the townspeople love so much.
“She can’t even lift two kilos,” said Viktor Shust, her owner, offended, hiding the dog under his fur coat just in case. - Let her live in the forest, she also needs clean air.
Do you know that because of such a “fly”, our work almost fell through last year?
Not because of Mukha, but of Cheburashka,” Shust corrected sadly.
Who cares! - And Borzhonov began to describe how one day a bear disease happened to the same dog, which was taken on an expedition by a female geobotanist, but bears themselves know how to recover from it, and this domestic animal, finding itself in the wild, had the intention of everyone dying before our eyes.
“Why haven’t I changed my mind,” said Borzhonov. -
It was time to at least call an ambulance flight! And then we realized: we need to immediately do an intestinal lavage... Well, here you are, a future veterinarian,” he turned to Shust. - Tell me, what would you do, how would you get out of the situation?
Shust grinned and rummaged in the pocket of his enormous fur coat.
“I’m not a geobotanist,” he said with dignity and handed Borzhonov a pink children’s syringe. - Will this do?
A friendly burst of laughter made Borjonov smile, he waved his hand: okay, they say, take it, if that’s what you are, and he was the first to board the plane. “What happened to the dog?” - they asked him. “They saved us, of course, we just had to suffer.”
Work on Ayana was already in full swing. From radio conversations we knew that Vladimir Kuksov with Slava Melnikov and Ernest Pilatov had built a road for snowmobiles along the mountainside to the plateau over the past month, set up a tent there with all the necessary equipment, and set up an additional observation post for the movements of wild deer. Evgeniy Gromov, a game warden from the Nature Conservation Laboratory, who came to study Taimyr wolves, was also at the hospital.
Lake Ayan is lost in the very center of the Putorana plateau - mountainous country, standing like a tent over the monotony of the heights of the Central Siberian Plateau. Many rivers begin here, spreading in all directions, but after circling, they certainly turn towards the Arctic Ocean, creating many elongated lakes along the way. The Evenks called Putorana “The Country of Lakes with Steep Shores.” At one time, it was the steepness of the banks that forced the Cossack explorers and explorers of the North of later times to bypass the plateau. Only after the end of the Great Patriotic War were scientists able to study the mountainous country. First detailed maps Putoranas were compiled only about thirty years ago. Geologists, geographers, limnologists and other scientists visited here, the first groups of tourists arrived here, but for biologists these places continued to remain almost a “blank spot”.
Candidate of Biological Sciences Boris Mikhailovich Pavlov, who found a nesting place of the pink gull in Taimyr, where no one expected to see it, assured that Putorana can present many surprises. He was one of the first to visit Ayan and, recalling his campaigns, never tired of repeating that for a long time he had the feeling that he was in a lost world...
In order to comprehensively study the fauna of Putorana and determine the possibility of fishing, a permanent scientific expedition was organized on Ayana on the eve of the International Biological Year. The first studies showed that fauna Putorana is unique. In addition to wolves, deer, wolverines, and bears, “bighorns” are found here - endangered bighorn sheep, which have become rare in other places in Taimyr. Game wardens found nesting sites of white-tailed eagles, buzzards, and white gyrfalcons here. These finds indicated that new amazing discoveries should be expected in those places. And I hoped, when I set off, to be present at this.
We landed on the mirror surface of a lake that had fallen into deep gorge. The lake froze at around four hundred and seventy meters, and the shores rose to a height of more than a kilometer. And we saw a lot of such failures on the way to the plateau; It’s no wonder that the Evenks gave birth to legends about “stone bags”, from which people and animals could not find a way out for centuries.
Before we had time to look around the snow-covered slopes, overgrown with the dark stubble of the forest, dogs began to bark loudly, the engines of snowmobiles began to rumble, and people who were greeting us dashed out of the nearest forest. We marveled at their carefree, resort-like appearance. The frost was in the twenties, and the game wardens were wearing sweaters and no hats. The heads of the three, shaved bald, sparkled blue, like the halos of saints,
“We were completely alone,” Shust sympathized. - Did you decide to take the bears out of fear?
The hunting experts pursed their lips: “You, shaggy devil, should have broken through the road to the slope with us, otherwise I wouldn’t have told you!”
But Viktor Shust did not let up and roared with laughter:
But... they came to film you, they will show you on television in Norilsk. They are also trendsetters for me!.. Put on your hats, at least take mine...
The game wardens' hut was hidden among the trees on a shallow bank that had been washed out over many years by an unnamed mountain stream. The snow carried her up to the roof, on which traces of wolverine paws were clearly visible. Guns with optical sights and binoculars were hung on the branches of larch trees, and expedition belongings were scattered everywhere. Barrels, canisters, boxes with clothes, tools, test tubes. Wide hunting skis lined the wall. Two black and white animal huskies were straining at their leash in an angry bark. In the hut with a low ceiling, against which everyone tested their foreheads as they entered, there were ordinary bunks covered with sleeping bags, a table made of roughly hewn boards, a bench and logs of wood instead of chairs. At the entrance there is a water tank, a washbasin, on the right there is a large iron stove, and behind it, in the corner... a real chicken coop. A half-faded hen with a singed tail and a cocky-looking rooster were walking around the roost.
While they were introducing themselves and sorting things out, I managed to find out that the owner of the frenzied dogs was Pilatov, and the chickens were brought to Ayan by Kuksov, a candidate of biological sciences, who from early childhood lived in Norilsk, a stone, industrial city in the Arctic, where one could only dream of such a household as somewhere in middle lane, it was impossible. Going to Ayan, he begged from the experimental laboratory of the institute a hen that had served its purpose. At the same time, he was presented with a rooster, which they decided to write off as unnecessary. The rooster was born in an incubator, spent his entire life indoors, did not know, did not know in the darkness of the polar night when to crow, and then he immediately began to sing, and so loudly that he often drowned out the voice of the Nedra radio station.
At dinner, Shust, of course, remembered the mockery of the game wardens’ “hairstyles.” He was offered to go to the top of the plateau tomorrow.
That's enough, the game wardens said, we'll have enough. We've been so exhausted these days that we can rest for a day.
Shust needed to conduct observations of the movements of reindeer herds instead.
Hehehe,” Victor grinned. “Even if I climb the mountain a hundred times, you won’t see me with my hair cut.”
“We can give you a snowmobile,” the skinheads suggested, winking.
They also found me a car! Ride it yourself. Yes, I will always beat any snowmobile on my own two feet...
Victor was on a roll; he argued that a real hunter had no need for such a machine, clearly provoking the game managers.
Let’s see, let’s see,” Kuksov and Pilatov smiled conspiratorially, “what the bird will sing when it returns.”
The stove was burning hot. The argument was humorous; people had known each other for a long time and were, of course, pleased that they had gathered together again. The light above the table was burning brightly. An engine rumbled behind the wall. The chickens were muttering about something in their sleep. Tangled huskies growled under the bunks, which, it turns out, were hidden in the house at night, so as not to be devoured by wolves. Tired from the hectic day, I quietly fell asleep.
Victor shook me by the shoulder:
It's time. Yesterday they wanted to go upstairs with me. There is a tent, a stove and a primus stove.
Shust was already dressed. It seemed to me that I had just fallen asleep, but the sun was already shining through the window.
The wind caught us as soon as we left the forest. We crossed the lake almost at a run and decided not to follow the beaten path, but to climb straight to the top along the cleft of the nearest stream. So, it seemed to us that it would be closer. Sinking waist-deep in soft snow, balancing on huge boulders, we made our way forward for at least an hour until we were convinced that the climb could not be overcome. We decided to return and follow the well-worn path. But the descent turned out to be so difficult that I suggested turning towards home. Snow flags were already snaking at the peaks, the wind was getting stronger, but Victor was offended: “Was it worth going out because of this?” It became a matter of honor for him to get to the tent, and I agreed - come what may. The tent seemed to me at that moment to be as reliable a home as the hospital hut.
It was easier to walk along the snowmobile trail. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the wind was blowing at our back. A scythe ran out of the forest onto the lake. But the dog Shusta, instead of running after him, looked questioningly at his owner.
“Room,” Victor said, as if apologizing. - I started it for my wife’s sake. - And he said that since we saw him on the Bikada River, where he was erecting a fence for a corral for Canadian musk oxen, a very important event happened in his life: he got married.
The road turned into the forest and went up a steep slope. I realized how difficult it was for snowmobiles with heavy loads to climb up here. In the calm of the forest, where sometimes you had to drag cars on yourself, of course, such work made it a little hot, and at the top a piercing wind and frost awaited the hot people. It’s no wonder that Kuksov’s guys decided to shave their heads so as not to catch a cold. Perhaps, in their place, I would have done the same, but Victor smiled cheerfully at my words.
No way,” he said. - How will I show myself to my wife then?
While climbing up, I tried to rest more often. But Victor was dressed lightly: rubber boots, canvas trousers, a jacket. He needed to move to stay warm, so I suggested we split up. At first he didn’t even want to hear it - how can you leave him alone in the forest! - but after one of the protracted halts, when I said that I knew how to handle a carbine and that this was not the first time in the North, he gave up. Promising to have tea ready for my arrival, Victor walked forward, followed by the dog, its tail cockily curled into a ring.
The forest became smaller and thinner closer to the top; bald patches began to appear. In some places there are still trees that have not shed their autumn plumage. Among the sparkling snow, against the blue background of the sky, the larches burned with golden fire. The wind increased with altitude...
The landscape at the top turned out to be dull: bare tundra and huge stones blackened like tombstones. As I climbed, I prepared myself that I would immediately see a tent. But the road continued to wind through gnarled, low-growing birch trees. I immediately felt tired and it became harder to walk. Several times I stumbled and fell. I was very thirsty, and I couldn’t stand it and started eating snow. The wind grew stronger, a snowstorm began, clouds covered the sky to the horizon.
I looked around again and again, but the tent was nowhere to be found. A lot of time has passed since we parted with Victor, and doubts began to creep into our souls. “Maybe I got lost and am following the wrong trail? - I sometimes thought. “Or maybe we misunderstood Kuksov, who said that it was an hour’s walk to the tent?” Circles swam before my eyes, my body refused to obey, a kind of indifference began to take over me. Having dragged myself with difficulty for a dozen steps, I collapsed on the snow and rested, staring at the sky. I remembered how I was lost in a snowstorm on Novaya Zemlya, how I completely despaired of finding the way to housing on Dikson - and yet I got out! This spurred me on. I stuck a Kuksov carbine with an optical sight into the snow and hung cameras on it. It immediately became easier. So, falling and rising, he continued to move forward, trying in vain to find the tent. The road kept turning to the side, and it was infuriating, but I continued to hold on to it, like a saving thread.
I saw a tent in a ravine, among the stones that I had looked at many times before. A man stood next to her. If it weren’t for him, if Victor hadn’t come out worried, I would have missed him. The game wardens did a great job of camouflaging their shelter. For some reason I didn’t feel any stronger from joy, and I thought that this is probably how the unfortunate people freeze - in full view of their homes.
I rolled into the ravine like a doll and got out of it on all fours; I stood five steps from the tent for a long time to make the final push, and kept imagining a mug of hot tea, a soft bed where you can lie even until the morning, without worrying that you will be covered in snow...
Shust's little dog was warming up in a sleeping bag on a cot, shivering. The place was busy. I carefully sat down on the edge.
“We have to leave,” said Shust, standing with his back to me at the barely glowing primus stove. - There is nothing to heat the stove with. They brought firewood, but apparently in their haste they forgot to leave the ax. The larch is fresh, you can’t break it with your hands.
Only then did I feel how cold it was in the tent. The wind tore the tarpaulin with such force that it seemed that it was about to tear it to pieces.
“Eco has tired you out,” only then did Victor take a good look at me. - And I’m thinking, why are you taking so long? Go ahead and lie down. Look to the sky. He began to get angry with you, I think it’s good for him to enjoy the sky in felt boots and a fur coat...
He handed me a mug of the strongest tea. Noticing how his hands were shaking, he complained:
I'm good too. He dragged you along with him. “They probably scolded him,” he asked, “they cursed him on the road...
At that moment, Viktor noticed through the window deer that had appeared not far from the tent, thrust a sandwich with hot stew into my hand and ran away. His task, in addition to observations, was to hunt the beast. I was amazed that he did not give up this idea even in such a situation. Shust’s job was not easy at all. He had to skin the deer himself, examine the internal organs, collect botfly larvae, and take material for analysis. While working, his hands were constantly covered in blood and snow. I remember him well at the moment when, out of breath, he ran to Kuksov with the news that he had found a sick deer. “Brucellosis,” he said. “We need to send it to the laboratory.” The institute was allowed to shoot deer to study diseases of the “savage”, about which little was known. But after examination, the carcasses of slaughtered deer were transferred to the state industrial enterprise, and it was important that not a single sick deer would subsequently reach the consumer. Shust was very meticulous about his work, with great pickiness...
The tea restored my strength with every sip. I stood up, deciding to break some branches and heat the stove at least for a little while. The wind tirelessly tormented the tent, swung the door open, blowing out the remaining heat, and I no longer doubted that I would not have to stay here overnight...
The damp larch did not burn well, so we had to throw in some gasoline. Recoiling from the flames, I lost my balance and fell onto the bed. With a squeal, a little dog jumped out of the bag, which I had completely forgotten about, rushed out of the tent and rushed off in a completely different direction from where the owner had gone. It’s a room, it could get lost! Without resting, I went to look for her. Hiding behind the stones, she looked sideways at me in fear, not wanting to return. When Victor returned, I said that I was ready to go anywhere as long as not to stay.
After circling around, we hardly found a carbine and cameras in the snow and moved towards the house. The wind knocked us off our feet, we fell, sliding down the slopes, climbed up on all fours so as not to lose our way, but hope never left me. It was much more fun to go with the three of us.
We arrived at the hut in such excitement that it seemed like we could cover the entire path we had traveled all over again.
At the hut we were greeted with wary faces. Kuksov admitted that they were going to go out and search. After listening to our story, where we presented all the torment as a funny adventure, he said sternly:
No, you can't walk together. And in general, Shust, I won’t let you go further than the hut.
Victor smiled guiltily. At that moment, he did not at all resemble the bully who had been arguing at the same table yesterday.
An hour and a half later, the house shook from gusts of wind, the hurricane reached its apogee, the door could not be opened, as if we were in a chamber from which the air had been pumped out. The nearest trees disappeared behind a veil of snow, I thought that we had managed to leave the top just in time.
Soon sunny and clear days arrived. Life in the hospital returned to normal. Petya was the first to wake up. I can still see this scene, how he, scraping his spurs, stomps on his perch, inflates himself like a balloon, squints his eyes like an old man and, flapping his wings, yells his heart-rending “crow” in a cold voice.
He repeated this song fifteen times a day, and each time I restrained myself so as not to throw a felt boot at him. But the Norilsk residents, who were not spoiled by domestic animals, liked his singing; Kuksov constantly took care of the chickens, fed them fish, meat, millet, selected their diet and did not regret crushing the most beautiful druses into quartz, which they supposedly lacked. And, looking ahead, I will say that he achieved some successes: at the end of the expedition, the lost hen began to lay eggs!
Gromov and Melnikov were the first to respond to the rooster wake-up call. They slept next to each other in the corner. Both, tall, first of all tried on glasses on their eyes, managing to touch the low cross-beams of the ceiling in their sleepiness. Having finished writing, they washed themselves, had breakfast and scattered in different directions. Gromov - to “trace” wolves, Melnikov - to look for animals unknown to science... Early morning was the best time for them.
The others followed suit. Kuksov and Pilatov launched Burans and, with carbines at the ready, drove to the top of the plateau to the tent. Shust and I went to the ice-free source of the Ayan River. Seeing running water in this ghostly kingdom of frosty silence was amazing, and I was constantly drawn to the stream. It seemed that life should concentrate there. And it’s true that on the banks of the stream I often met wary partridges in the morning, watched the mating games of hares, saw traces of wolves, moose...
Once, armed with a five-hundred-millimeter “gun,” I spied hares crossing a river. Hearing the rumble of snowmobiles climbing the mountain, the hares became indescribably excited. They rushed towards each other from both banks and jumped from ice floe to ice floe. Having settled down behind an upturned rhizome, I was filming hares from about twenty meters away, I spent all the film, confident that I was taking rare shots, and when I turned around, I saw a luxurious white giant three steps away from me. Kosoy nervously twitched his lip and looked past somewhere, as if he was hiding behind me, like behind a tree stump.
In the evening, hunters arrived with the deer they had hunted. Slava Melnikov sat down to weigh mouse adrenal glands or began to gut the caught cuckoos. Everyone was lucky except Gromov - the “wolfman”, as we called him among ourselves. During this time, everyone managed to meet wolves, and Gromov so far only read their traces.
An amazingly interesting and not fully understood creature is a wolf,” he reasoned. - What a plastic look! After all, if you think about it, the person pursues him and destroys his entire conscious life.
How many animals have disappeared from the face of the earth during this time, but the wolf lives!
Gromov worked for a long time in the Sikhote-Alin Nature Reserve. He was well acquainted with the wolf breed, but the local wolves, it turns out, were not like the Far Eastern ones. Those, for example, kicked the victim out open place- river, lake. Having killed the animals, they moved to a new place. Here they did not carry out such reprisals. Boris Pavlov said that only once did he happen to see a wolf chasing a deer across the lake. But it looked more like a game between a cat and a mouse. Gray overtook the deer, jumped on the neck, but either the deer dodged, or the wolf was not agile enough, the pursuit continued until the wolf noticed the people and turned back. Gromov met his first wolf in Putorana on the eighteenth day of relentless persecution. He entered the hut joyfully, scooped up a ladle of water and, without undressing, sat down on the bench:
I watched for forty minutes! A beautiful animal, smart, lively. It’s interesting to watch how he walks, as if he’s solving a new problem every time. Large, light gray, with tan marks. I hid myself so much that I was afraid that someone might come at me and have to shoot. And he seemed to hear my request, stood, looked and walked away.
The sun suddenly began to warm up so much that large puddles appeared on the lake.
“Everyone,” said Pilatov, “we’ve left for the summit, “Buran” will not pass through such snow.
It was decided to go north along the source of the Ayan to find out if the deer had begun to descend to the crossings, and to set up an observation post there.
With a roar, we rolled out onto the ice and rushed across the lake. The sleigh was bouncing over the potholes, the husky, which Pilatov had captured, was licking my face. Pilatov deftly controlled the Buran, managing to guide it along the very edge of the ice. Having passed the stream, we saw fresh tracks of a wolf. While Gromov, with a ruler in his hands, measured the tracks, describing them in a notebook, I managed to take a lot of shots. Bright yellow hoods of snowmobiles, people dressed in camping gear, husky ears pricked up against the backdrop of boulders sprinkled with snow - I didn’t want to spare the film.
We raced across the ice for a long time. The river made its way through two-meter-thick ice, sometimes hiding under it, going into the depths. The ice in those places arched, subsided, forming greenish lakes. The snowmobile dived into ice holes, breathtakingly, but at the same moment jumped out with a sled on the other side.
Suddenly, around the bend, we saw very close light-backed deer standing on blue ice rivers. There were many of them, about a hundred. The deer got excited, ran at first timidly, not quickly, and then, stretched out in the run, almost rushed to the shore. Not far from this place, on an island, opposite the mouth of the Bolshaya Honna-Makit River, we pitched a tent. Pilatov helped us settle in, drank some tea and hurried back.
Gromov and I were left alone. The weather, which had been setting up for spring all these days, suddenly turned back. By evening it got colder, the frost dropped to seventeen degrees. It was cold to sleep, my face and feet were freezing; I couldn’t resist and pulled fur mittens over my feet. Having somehow waited for the morning, we immediately began to make a fire and took a long time to warm up.
The wild deer trail was nearby. They came out of the forest from the other bank and, looking around warily, went onto the ice of the river. Tired from long treks through the mountains, the reindeer stood on the ice for hours, resting. Others immediately went to bed.
During the day there were small herds. Light against the backdrop of dark coastal terraces and the indistinct silhouettes of mountains rising in the distance, they seemed like ethereal forest spirits. Stretching out in a chain, without a single sound they crossed the river and disappeared into the forest. By sunset, herds of up to a thousand head gathered at the crossing points.
Having risen higher to the shore, we could observe how, obeying an unknown rhythm, deer accumulated on the tops of the opposite mountains. Then, like an avalanche, they quickly rolled down and easily made their way through the open forest. Here they walked confidently and felt calm, but when they reached the river bank, they stopped. Hornless, yellowish in the light of the low-lying sun, they resembled sheep from above in a pen, waiting for the gate to open. It seemed as if a multivocal bleating would come from below. But it was quiet.
In wary silence, a lonely important woman emerged from the herd. Must be the oldest and most experienced. Sniffing, she lowered her head to the ice, studying the tracks of the deer that had passed earlier, and was the first to begin crossing. As soon as she reached the middle, the herd immediately rushed after her. Reindeer hurried to the ocean, to the tundra, to calving grounds...
In the following days we explored the shores of Amnunda - the Aufeis Tract. Ayan had frozen a huge layer of ice in this place over the winter, which from an airplane could have been mistaken for a frozen lake. Frosts, creating ice jams, forced the river to constantly change its course, break through jams, and spread over the ice. The ice in this gorge grew gradually and resembled a layer cake in cross-section. Once, while crossing the ice, I slipped and fell - from the shaking, a layer of ice collapsed behind us, and we found ourselves over a hole in which a river flowed. If you got into it, it would probably be impossible to get out of there. We have seen many such failures. And Gromov was constantly drawn to them, because there were many wolf tracks here.
He walked with some kind of insatiability, trying to examine all corners of the tract, constantly measuring, sketching, studying wolf tracks. Comparing them, he reconstructed the picture of the life of animals, noticing permanent inhabitants, distinguishing traces of aliens. He hoped to find out from them where the wolf's lair was.
The crescent of the month rose above the snow-capped peaks of the gloomy mountains. Hares ran out onto the banks of the shallows to nibble on the frozen grass, and partridges fluttered in the forest. One day we noticed a wolverine going out hunting - an animal that hunters manage to meet very rarely. Taken by surprise, the predator froze, realizing that she had been noticed, and immediately rushed into the forest. But the wolves, as luck would have it, continued to lurk. And I suggested that Gromov make a bait. This way, it seemed to me, it would be easier to get to know the pack.
No good,” he said. - You can’t fool wolves on chaff. Look how many deer there are around. Yes, and I don’t need this staging.
In the evening, when we were having tea by the fire, he told us that in his work he adheres to the principles bequeathed by the famous Far Eastern game manager Kaplanov. He, according to Gromov, was a real trapper, tireless in his search. Even while studying the life of Ussuri tigers, he never resorted to bait. I followed the trail to find them and lived nearby in the taiga for a long time. Like all hunters, he constantly carried weapons, but never resorted to their help, believing that knowledge of the habits of animals makes it possible to avoid a dangerous encounter...
Gromov told how, following the same observation methods, he managed to track down the lair and live near it for a long time. Much unknown was revealed to him in the life of Far Eastern wolves. He watched the training of grown-up wolf cubs, saw their games and fun, he knows how “uncles” - wounded seasoned males - “babysit” the cubs in the absence of the she-wolf, how lone wolves drive stags into lakes and wait for them, tired, on the other shore... Now he wanted to know everything about the local wolves. But endurance is needed - more than one summer and more than one year. And Gromov was in no hurry, confident that he would definitely get his way.
In the mornings we watched deer silently emerge from the forest, like paratroopers in camouflage suits. They cross the river, and after a few minutes they can be seen at the top, beyond the border of the forest. It seems that it is impossible to stand there, the slopes are so steep, and the deer walk through the snow between the black rocky gutters, not stopping for a minute...
After drying our foot wraps by the fire, we changed our shoes without much desire, imagining the upcoming path along the Honna-Makit gorge, where, we knew, we would have to fall into loose snow, one by one trampling the road. We needed to find out if the white gyrfalcons had nested this year.
The reddish-black rocks of the gorge rose vertically to a height of a hundred meters, withered tree trunks hanging from the cliffs, ready to collapse at any moment. Sometimes the rocks came together like the walls of a narrow well. In some places, bluish-yellow ice undulated down the wall to the very ground, as if the flow of a waterfall had suddenly stopped...
We never found the gyrfalcons. We just found a lonely nest of ravens. Black vultures circled in anxiety, filling the gorge with hoarse cries. Returning, we saw traces brown bear, crossed the canyon at the narrowest point. “We woke up, my dears,” Gromov smiled. “So that’s it: spring has come.”
We did not wait for Pilatov at the appointed time, and Gromov became worried. We decided to return on foot. We left in the evening. A headwind blew in my face. The river froze, at times we ran and skated as if on ice skates. Ragged gray clouds crawled over the mountains. My heart was uneasy. We were almost halfway through the road when we heard the rumble of a snowmobile. We were surprised to recognize Viktor Shust as the helmsman. His eyes were shining, it was clear that he enjoyed racing across the ice. “Skinheads,” he said, “they are drowning the bathhouse, they sent me for you.” I reminded him that he once said that he would “never drive a snowmobile in his life.”
Did you really believe that I fell in love with this crackling cart? - Victor got excited. - It was only to take you to the bathhouse that I got behind the wheel...
But his eyes gave him away entirely.
Still, the “skinheads” were surprisingly caring people. Ernest Mikhailovich Pilatov did not forget to bring birch brooms from Norilsk. And how pleasant it was after living in the taiga for a week, where you had to sleep without undressing, climb onto a shelf, bask in the hot steam, steam yourself with a fragrant birch broom so that you could jump out into the snow, roll around in it and fly up onto the hot shelf again.
Kuksov took out a bottle of tincture that his wife had prepared. From all diseases and colds.
And how good it was to sit on a bench in a warm hut with people who had become even closer and dearer. Why, there are people there, even Akol, this dog who hates everyone with fierce hatred, ran up when we met and licked my hand.
Pilatov was resting, sprawled on a sleeping bag, his bare heels shining. Gromov, having changed into a clean shirt, shaved, looking younger, sat by the window, writing down what he saw in his diaries. Shust bent over his notebooks, preparing tests - and here he continued to study by correspondence. We sat at the table with Kuksov and talked as if we had not seen each other for a year.
The biologist assured that in Putorana the world of birds is least explored and in the spring it is necessary to take an especially careful look at the small birds. This is where you should expect surprises. The next route he was going to explore was the gorges of the southern rivers flowing into the Ayan. There, he had no doubt, there would certainly be a nest of a white gyrfalcon - the rarest falcon on Earth. No one has ever been able to come across its nest on Ayan, but the birds were here and they were seen.
Then, he developed his plans, he would have to start counting the “bighorn sheep” - bighorn sheep. There's enough to do for several seasons...
The night was bright, the sun had no longer set, but was only hiding behind the mountains for a while. Large snowflakes flew obliquely to the ground, streaking the dark surface of the forest with white threads. On the other side, in the thicket, a wolf howled. He hid somewhere above, and his melancholy howl seemed to be coming from the sky. Kuksov decided to immediately set off on another route.
Why put it off? - he said. - We will always have time to sleep.
And I began to get ready.
Lake Ayan, Putorana plateau
V. Orlov, our specialist. corr.
A tourist from Norilsk, Vladimir Kuzmin, published a report on a hike along the Putoran plateau. He went through the beginning of the hike together with, at Lake Ayan they parted (this was planned from the very beginning): Vladimir went back to Lake Lama, Andrey continued his route, intending to cross the Putorana plateau alone. September 1, 10 km from the mouth of Kotui into Lake Dyupkun. Dobrynin did not reach the Odnolko base by about 40 km.
Putorana Chronicles 2013. Four mountains or a lucky one-way ticket
Route traveled: Lake Lama (drop), ufologists base - Bucharama river - Geologicheskaya river - pass 950m - river. Big Honna-Makit - r. Ayan - Lake Ayan (passed together with Andrey Dobrynin) - pass 1200m - peak 1547 m (glad sunrise) - Lake Negu - river. Negu Iken - pass 1250 m - r. Chopko 1st - pass 1450m - r. Gulami Iken - peak 1621 m (rad. sunrise) - Mount One and a Half Thousand (1446 m, rad. sunrise) - river. Gulami Iken - pass 1200m - r. Hikikal - Mount Elden (1222 m, radial) - descent along the left tributary of the river. Bunisyak - Bunisyak Canyon - Lake Lama, base of Oleg Krashevsky
Sports experience:
Vladimir Kuzmin, installation engineer (1988) – 3 ski, 2 foot (in Putorana).
Andrey Dobrynin, hydrobiologist (1977) – absent (Note: quite rich expedition experience).
I had a dream - to get to the central part of the mysterious Putorana plateau. I was lucky enough to visit there once in 2007. It was a walking “two” from the Norilsk tourist club “Taimyr”, then our goal was the top of the ridge of the Bogatyr mountains 1591 m, lakes Bogatyr and Neralakh. We reached the summit, but the bad weather and constant rains made a big difference way back. We did not see the Taloi and Bunisyak canyons. Since then, thoughts of visiting there again have constantly been in my head. And certainly in the summer, for which I took a vacation in advance. Lines of various options gradually emerged on the map, but there was no certain clarity about where to go.
Another question is who to go with. All my friends, for various reasons, could not join me for the summer. Going alone, besides being unsafe, is simply boring.
Hiking route, red - there (together), blue - back (alone)
In March, I was on a business trip to Moscow, and on occasion, I stopped by a fairly famous shopping mall“Extreme”, buy different equipment. I unobtrusively got into conversation with one seller, it turned out to be R. Yangalychev, who casually mentioned their 2011 trip to eastern Putorana. Then they walked from the village of Chirinda to Lake Kharpicha. This information interested me, primarily because of its unusualness. After all, in these places hiking walking is “not accepted.” I sat with such thoughts in a Moscow cafe. I went to the “free” Internet and wrote to Andrey Dobrynin. Dyukha (Andrey introduced himself as Dyukha - for friends and acquaintances) replied that he was going on his own route, and due to the lack of partners he was going alone. Let me remind you that Dobrynin planned to autonomously cross the Putorana plateau from Lake Lama to the village of Chirinda. I thought - great option join and combine our plans for the summer, at least at the beginning. Both as an interest and as mutual assistance. I subsequently greatly regretted this decision, but more on that later.
I had a vacation from July 15 to August 5 (I agreed that I would be at work on the 15th). Thus, I could not join Dobrynin for the entire route. And there was no desire - the entire route of Dyukha (as he compiled it) consists of huge monotonous runs along the valleys of rivers and lakes, and he did not even consider other options. And much more interesting is a hike with canyons, passes and snow-capped peaks - which is why everyone goes to Putorana.
Speaking of peaks. It’s not so easy to get to the eastern mountains like Kamen, Kotuyskaya, Holokit and 1701 on foot in the summer - they’re far away. If you start and end at Lake Lama, a more realistic option is the peaks of the western part of the Plateau, and they are there in abundance. In general, we agreed that we would go together to Lake Ayan, along the traditional route of watermen: Lake Lama - river. Bucharama - r. Geological – pass 950 m – river. Big Hona-Makit - r. Ayan - Lake Ayan. This is about 100 km. I took care of obtaining permission to visit the reserve and getting to Lama. According to the permit, it turned out that this year there was an administrative merger of the reserves, all the management was replaced, and the old one was removed from the staff. In short, due to confusion, we were not given permission. Then I found out that permission was not given to any of the tourists. Andrei could have sent an official letter to the reserve from the Institute of Hydrobiology where he worked, but did not have time, since the decision to refuse was received only in June. It’s a shame that you can now get to Putorana only as an illegal immigrant. Getting to Lama turned out to be easier; our friend Ruslan Bychkov decided to help us and asked for 10 thousand rubles. for two. This is a fairly modest amount - it only covers fuel consumption (a powerful water jet boat). Ruslan is not specifically involved in casting, his plans (to relax and go fishing on Lama) coincided with ours. The start was scheduled for July 15, according to average statistics, the second half of July is enough convenient time to start. Meanwhile... the weather was alarming. Starting from April, unusual sunny weather with a complete lack of precipitation set in. In the spring, the snow (of which there was very little anyway) literally burned away in the sun. Dry May, hot June, in general, navigation began in the second half of June (this is half a month earlier than usual) with a record low water level for Norilsk rivers.
Before this trip, to improve my physical fitness, from April to July I participated in 5 multi-day sports trips, including a ski trip of the 1st class. in April, participation in the alpiniad in May (1B, 2A ascents in the Lama Mountains) and others. Every weekend there are hiking “walks” in the local mountains. Speed “races” with a 20 kg backpack against time brought tangible benefits.
Andrey arrived in Norilsk on July 13 and moved into a rented apartment. On weekends we stock up on groceries together, on Sunday evening Andrey comes to see me and discuss the details of the route over tea. The real version of the “transputoran” transition, as I see it, is moving at a fast sporting pace, relying on intermediate points where you can rest and theoretically gain food. These are the cordon hut on Ayan, the hut on Lake Kharpicha, Oleg Odnolko’s base on Dyupkun. Andrey noted that he doesn’t really count on intermediate points, since his plan is to make a completely autonomous transition. And he added that for his loved ones, we are walking his entire route together. Nobody warned me about such things. It smelled like pure adventurism; it was the first call, which I didn’t attach any importance to at the time.
The starting weight of my backpack was 32 kg. Layout at the rate of 600g/day, 5 liters of gasoline (petrol stove), two-person tent, etc. I don’t pay much attention to the selection of equipment, so if I wanted, I could save on weight. Dobrynin has about 42 kg (of which 1.5 kg are cigarettes), and he was very thorough in the selection, down to the smallest detail. All equipment is branded/custom. Against his background, I looked somewhat ridiculous with my “killed” old equipment.
I expected that with the expectedly good pace of walking from Lama to Lake Ayan, we would easily reach Lake Ayan in 5-6 days. As it turned out later, it took eight days.
We start at 10:00 from the pier of the Norilskaya River. The water level is very low for the month of July - like late autumn. We dashingly pass the difficult section at the entrance to the Talaya River, the captain’s skill is obvious. We arrange wonderful fishing on the Taloy rifts. About 15 graylings for 5 people. You guessed it, rest, of course. There was a lot of fishing for char on Lake Lama; we caught only one, from which Dyuha took samples for the Irish laboratory. We spend the night at the base of “ufologists” (aka “Gervinists”) on the river. Bucharama.
We sleep for a long time, start at 11 o'clock. We walk quickly and quickly reach the mouth of the Bucharama. To my great surprise, I discover that there is almost no water in the river. You can walk calmly along the dry stone riverbed. I remember how we made our way here along the shore through the willow thickets in 2007. We walk in 50-minute walks, 15 minutes rest. By 14:00 we reach the mouth of Geologicheskaya. The same story - there is no water in the rivers. Let's have lunch. On the riverbed we meet a single tourist from Nizhny Novgorod, who introduced himself as Nikolai. He heads towards the river. Ayan is going to Volochanka with a 20 kg backpack (yes, the guys don’t go modestly, I don’t know how his event ended). Nikolai overtakes us. Then the pace of walking drops, Andrey walks heavily. We make allowances for the first day, the weight of the backpack and the heat (very humid and stuffy). We get up early for the night. We cook dinner on a primus stove in one pot for two. I took a lot of gasoline; it’s easier for me to carry gasoline than to cook on wood. We spend the night in my Nova Tour Smart 2 tent. It is a two-person tent, Dyukha and I fit comfortably there (Andrey had a single-person ultralight one). Gone 14 km.
In the morning a light rain begins, which quickly ends. I can't find my tea. It turned out that I left it on the boat. We drink Andrey's tea. We go straight along the riverbed itself. Walking is generally comfortable. At a rest stop, Andrei turns inside out. I'm wondering what's causing the vomiting and what to do. He said that from overload, and it’s nonsense, it happens in the first days. By 13:00 we reach the confluence of two tributaries of the Geologicheskaya and have lunch. Next we smoothly climb onto the (orographically) right terrace. The pace drops, Andrey lags behind, he says, he hoped that the walk would be easier. We reduce the transition time to 40 minutes.
There is practically no snow left in the gorges. In the evening we climb to the beginning of the ascent to the plateau. The height is about 500m. We agree to climb the plateau the next day in the morning. We set up camp. To pass the time, I lightly take a bag with 5 kg of Andrei’s things and alone climb 400 m up to the plateau. I photograph local landscapes and go to the cascade of Geologicheskaya waterfalls. Many skulls of mountain Putorana sheep. I leave my things on the plateau at the source of the Geological. We hope that living creatures will not spoil it overnight.
We leave at 5 am. It's cold, so we climb quickly. By 9 o'clock we leave for mountain lake at the source of the Geological. My backpack is torn again. In total, by the end of the hike there was not a single intact place left on it. Plastic fasteners for belts burst, zippers burst, etc. Dobrynin comes with a custom KVN - the backpack is durable and comfortable. The height of the pass is 950 meters. We reach the beginning of the swampy valley of B. Hona Makita. We have lunch and sleep. I sleep right under open air. The gnats are all hidden from the scorching sun, you can rest without any problems. Alone, light, I walk 3 km towards the lake. Rotary. In one of the rocks in 2007, we made a warehouse there - gasoline and some food remained there. The warehouse was destroyed, probably visited by a bear.
We reduced the duration of transitions to 30 minutes, with a 15-minute rest. By 22 o'clock we reach the river. Andrey caught one grayling (about 500 g) using a spinning rod.
In the morning we prepare a delicious fish soup. We walk along the side of the river, through a dried-up swamp and small stones. The walking is very easy, but the heat is oppressive, I can’t even believe that this is possible in the Far North. The sky is absolutely clear, completely calm, just like in the Rostov steppes. Dyukha has stomach problems again. Repacks the backpack several times. We're wasting more than an hour. I think to myself that at this rate I won’t have time to run to Lake Negu-Iken (later I didn’t go there). I asked Andrey about the pace of walking, he replied that he planned to walk the first third of the hike 10 km a day, then 15 and at the end of his route 20 km a day. I say that this is unrealistic, usually everything happens the other way around, you need to raise the pace to at least 15 km per day. 6 transitions of 30 minutes before lunch, 5 transitions after. Dyukha agrees and says that we are going twice as fast as they were in 2011. We drink tea with lemon against the backdrop of Sculpture Mountain, the impressions are fabulous. In the sun, my hands burned to the point of blistering, I lubricate them with vegetable oil, since I didn’t take any sun protection creams. By 10 p.m. I go out to the river. I set up camp and wait for Andrey for a long time. Passed the order 16 km.
The heat is over thirty since the morning. There is no wind at all, the heat is terrible. I can't remember such heat in previous years. This is it Far North. We leave at 10 o'clock. Dripping with sweat, we arrive at the Paday River by lunchtime; there is little water in the river; we easily cross it in light shoes. We get up for the afternoon. We eat soup with wild sorrel. To avoid the heat of the day, we switched to the night schedule (at first I really didn’t want to go at night). We leave at 21:00, it becomes a little cooler.
We walk along the Hona Makita riverbed; around the bend in the riverbed, the first trees begin to appear. The forest boundary rose higher along the riverbed, 2 kilometers higher than indicated on the map. Height is about 750 meters. Larch cones of an unusual red-violet color. In general, the vegetation is different from the Lama Forest. Let's take a photo, it's already protected area. By 2 am we go out to Gulami-Iken, easily cross the river, the water is no more than half a meter. We have lunch in a tent. We start at 5 am; along the shore there are many old fox traps (“mouths”). By 10 am we set up camp on the river bank. We walked about 17 km. Fishing is not going well: the only grayling has escaped. I sleep all day in the open air in the shade of the tent.
The relief changes dramatically. The river turns into numerous creeks with steep banks. We cross Chopko 1st. Oddly enough, there is quite a lot of water in it. We spend some time looking for a ford. It becomes more difficult to walk, the forest “shelves” are short and steep.
I suggest walking along the river, along an open, dry riverbed. Andrey tells me that he has flat feet and he had better walk through the forest. This is news. We walk through the forest, then we finally cross onto a stone riverbed. We walk slowly over the stones, constantly waiting for Dyukha. Somewhere in the distance you can see the end of the Hona Makita canyon - this is the Ayan River. This fact is encouraging. We traverse several steep forested hills. We set up camp in a convenient place on the shore. Further, the river bank turns into a 30-meter steep cliff, about a kilometer long. It only goes over the top. In the evening we get ready and go to the Big Honna-Makita waterfall, 3 kilometers away.
The waterfall is impressive; a huge volume of water is thrown into a stone bowl, and then falls into a steep canyon. We find a traditional parking place for watermen. Convenient place under tents, as well as a sign tree with signs of tourists who have been here. It turned out that a few days before us, two water tourists from Moscow passed through here. Kryukov Sergei and Kryukov Sasha (father and son). We were heading to the solid route Lama-Ayan-Kotui-Hakoma-Kochechum-Tura. There is no water in the river for rafting; we walked for 7 days. I liked the end of the note: “We’ll probably get through, but they’ll kick us out of work.” Whether they arrived or not, I don’t know. We leave our note.
From Chopko 2 there is a crowded deer trail, we follow it easily. Soon we turn off and walk through the forest. The terrain is dense, I would never have thought that at altitudes of about 500 meters there was such a dense forest. By 4 am we go out to the Ayan River. The mood is lifted. Let's have lunch. Along the shore we see traces of a person who had recently passed, he was walking alone (perhaps this is the same Nikolai). On the other bank we see a hut - the northern cordon of the reserve. According to my estimates, the Ayan River could easily be forded in many places. Summer is very dry. At the bottom of the river there are many transparent stones of various shapes. By 7 am we go to Lake Ayan. Here it is, the heart of the plateau. Lots of unafraid partridges, not afraid of people. We set up camp in the “corner” of the lake. I draw your attention to an even circle made of stones, 4 meters in diameter - this is probably a place for a tent. We set up camp and have a half-day break. This extreme point joint route. So far everything is going according to plan. We relax all evening, eat pasta and stew, and are in a great mood. Once again I sew up my backpack.
We discuss Dyukha’s route, I say that the secret of his success is to walk at a good sporting pace, and in no case procrastinate. Andrey agrees.
Andrey plans to walk along the shore of Lake Ayan, and closer to the mouth of Gulami, to cross on his one-kilogram boat to the other side, to the reserve’s cordon. Subsequently I learned that he succeeded. In the area of the Kapchuk River, he met a group of water tourists, they shared food. Then it turned out that they were the last to see him alive.
The heart of the Putorana plateau is Lake Ayan
Get up at 4 am. We agree that Andrey will call me on a satellite phone (Iridium) upon my return to Norilsk. I tell him to call whenever you want, we’ll discuss the route and just like that. In parting, I wish him good luck and most importantly, don’t break your neck. Andrei did not answer anything, only smiled strangely. At 5 am we split up.
Full text of the report: driverotor.ru/putorana2013.html
As practice has shown, sunscreen and a light windbreaker are not superfluous in summer Putorana. It is important to work out the issue with shoes; it is uncomfortable to walk for a long time in rubber boots; you can easily pull a tendon.
Veles took an expensive suit from Siver especially for the hike. As it turned out, the jacket is completely unsuitable for a hike in Putorana (perhaps not for any hikes at all). She doesn’t breathe at all, it’s stuffy, and in cold weather it’s cold. It gets wet in the water. This miracle is clearly not worth the money (Veles is like the god of cattle). As a result, the entire hike was spent in a T-shirt and sweater.
Preliminary physical preparation is important; long training sessions are required before the hike. Moreover, physical preparation may be even more important than the selection of equipment (this is my opinion). Good preparation allows you to quickly solve the problems posed on the route, and most importantly, enjoy it.
You can go on such a hike alone, but it’s too unsafe. On my next trip to the central Plateau, I will not go alone. And probably with a gun.
Further chronicle of events
Andrey Dobrynin is calling. He says that he is on the Kotui River, 30 km from the pass. He said that he had been resting for a couple of days, so it was not going as quickly as he expected. I ask how it’s going, he says it’s easy, you can easily walk 15 km a day. He thinks that in 3-4 days (8-9th) he will be at Lake Kharpicha. I tell you that I only got there yesterday and that I need to be careful because there are bears. The connection was interrupted. Neither the next Monday (Monday was a communication day for Dyukha), nor then did he call me. The peculiarity of his tariff (or handset capabilities) is that I cannot call him, only he can call me.
I remembered about Andrey, and for some reason I began to worry a little. According to my estimates, he should have been with Odnolko on Dyupkun or headed further to Chirinda. I called to inquire about his contact, Nikolai Komarov (I had not contacted him before). Doesn't pick up the phone. But he calls me back in the evening. He says that the last communication session was on Monday, and everything seemed to be normal, but Andrei had not yet reached Dyupkun, according to him, he should have reached it just about now. I'm surprised at how slow it is.
In the evening Komarov calls and asks if Dobrynin called me, I answer that no. He says something bad happened and added, we’ll look for it. A couple of hours later he calls me again with the phrase: “Dobrynin is dead, the body is in Tours.”
Nobody expected such a gloomy outcome. Yes, Dobrynin himself probably didn’t expect it either. I still hoped that he would get to Odnolko and stay at his base until the winter. Then they will fly away together for the winter in Tura.
And the events were as follows. August 31, having decided to cancel his route, on Saturday morning he began calling the insurance company with a request for evacuation. The insurance company probably ignored his request, then he started calling the Turin Ministry of Emergency Situations. The sunflight took off from Tura on September 1 at 6 am.
The place where Dobrynin was located is on the Kotui River up 12 km from Lake Dyupkun. In total, Andrei had walked about 400 km by that time.
They took him away already dead. Andrei never received help. The cause of death was probably gastric bleeding. Andrei did not reach the Odnolko base, housing and food on Dyupkun 40 kilometers. So a chain of wrong decisions and an old sore led to the grave.
Perhaps the reader will have such a question, but Was it possible to avoid the tragedy? Is it even possible to go this route? I think yes. In the late eighties, a group of tourists led by Valery Kiselyov (later master of sports) completed a 6th class ski trip. along the Talnakh - Chirinda route, then with difficulty and not without adventure they crossed the Plateau on skis and won the Union Championship.
I admit that in life there is always a place for chance and no one is safe from death on the route, from various accidents. But there are basic rules of sports tourism that must be followed.
I think that among the moments contributed the tragedies were:
1. Andrey continued his journey alone. It is safer, more comfortable and more correct to do such a route with a prepared group (not alone). I asked Andrey about this. He replied that he did not have the time or desire to prepare a team for himself. But he didn’t want to join me.
2. It is necessary to do such a route in a sporting style (not in an expeditionary style!!) with a strictly scheduled daily movement schedule. If there is a serious delay behind the schedule, cancel the route. Let me remind you that the average statistical norm for tourist-athletes is 18 kilometers a day - discipline in sports trips necessary.
3. Andrey was not in good enough sports shape for his idea. Long-term training is necessary, primarily physical fitness. Walking on rocks, climbing rough terrain, climbing passes with a load. Putorana - after all, this is not a forest near Moscow, this is harsh Taimyr, this is the North. The weather can be very unstable, you must always be on alert and always have an “emergency reserve”. Fuel, food, clothing, physical strength, mental strength, enthusiasm. There should always be backup options... For people who live in the tundra, in the North, this is something taken for granted...
And from my own modest experience I will say that with proper preparation you can go without obvious risk and, most importantly, enjoy it.
4. Andrey had some illnesses that he did not report (with his stomach and his feet). Perhaps he did not attach due importance to them, but remaining silent and going on the route with them is very dangerous. Both for the route, and, as we see, for life.
5. Andrey was a very persistent, strong-willed person. But in some cases you can’t wait until the end; sometimes it’s better to give up and get off the route. And then return there again, taking into account previous experience.
I was unable to convince Dyukha to reconsider his views on the route.
And regarding the hike itself in the summer, I still agree with Dobrynin and believe that it is more than real. You just need to work out the route. Do not go to the bad river valley Kotuya between Kharpicha and Dyupkun. There is nothing good for a pedestrian there. Probably it would be possible to immediately roll over in front of Kharpich onto Lyuksina, perhaps this would save time and effort...
