Video part 1: Troubles at Suntar River
Video part 2: a dive and up the mountain
Video part 3: in search of shadow
Video part 4: the watch towers
Video part 5: the canyon
Two days later I took Rodion as a translater to the Search and Rescue Office to inform them about my plan, in case something may go wrong. The office, an hour drive from the city center, reminded me of the office in Irkutsk at the start of my previous Siberia expedition in 2010. A modern barrack, detailed maps, well equiped officers with an in-depth knowledge of the remotest areas. A smart woman named Maya worked for the office. She spoke English and we agreed I would call her once a week to communicate my GPS position during my travel.
Four days later I went to the other side of the Lena River, to try to hitch hike with a truck driver. As there were no trucks heading east, I payed a taxi buss driver to bring me four hundred kilometers north-east over a dusty road. When I reached the Angara River it was late in the evening. The ferry would leave not earlier than tomorrow morning. I slept on the outher deck since the sleeping room was tiny and hot. When I woke up the empty deck had filled with numerous cars.
At mid day I reached a hotel in the town of Khandagar, managed by a friendly woman. Two days later a team of Geologists picked me up driving another four hundred kilometers through the Verchoyansk Range to Suntar River. I was dropped near the town of Oymyakon. Oymyakon is renowned for holding the record low temperature in the northern hemisphere. In the winter of 1993 the temperature slid to minus 71 degrees centigrade. A sultry 35 degrees was therefore not really what I expected, even in summer.
Day one, 16 July. I build up my foldable kayak, filled it with gear and supplies and went off on the Suntar River. The river quickly carried me into the wilderness, as if I was launched into space without the ability to get back to earth.
Late that day I approached a large forest to make a sharp turn to the right. I was too late to discover that the river went straight under a large pile of driftwood, made from large trees that were ripped from the riverbanks by the river. The kayak was parked against the wood and was almost pushed under the water. I could barely leave the boat and get my equipment on solid ground. Things could have run terribly wrong. If I had capsized under the wood I might have managed to crawl to the surface again, but then the boat would be lost under the water with all the necessary equipment. Against the rules I had set myself, I hadn’t yet stored the sat phone and the survival package in my floating vest.
Day two, 17 July. Having learned my lesson I carefully maneuvered over the small streams surrounded by forest. My route was probably too much east from the main river. At about twelve I reached the Indigirka, a broader river, without mosquitoes and less likely to draw me into the hell – holes into the forest. It didn’t take long to reach a narrow island with the shape of a sickle composed of round pebble stones. Behind the current there was a deep pond. Since I was close to the mountain I had planned to climb, I stayed here for the night.
Rounded squares
Day three, 18 July. I reached the other side of a smaller stream to ascend the slope of the mountain. I went up in fire-struck forest. A hole in the ground indicated the presence of a bear, or a glutton. On top of a grassy plain there was already a good view. Near the top of the mountain I discovered not to have brought enough water. Because it was very warm I decided to return to the kayak. Attacked by mosquitoes and midgets I quickly threw the muddy shoes in the boat and peddled away hastily. On a large gravel bank I washed away the sweaty heat and shaved myself. It was still warm when I found a good tent spot late in the evening.
Japanese landscape on a rock
Day four, 19 July. I had just passed the settlement of Ikki Ambar when the stream almost pushed me straight onto a large gravel bank. I went in the shade along a forested cliff, while the river gained speed up to a point where waves splashed into the boat. Sea gulls were laughing loudly, flying just over my head, probably protecting their nearby nest. I passed mountains that I found typically Siberian, with repeating symmetrical slopes and patches of grass beneath the tree line.
Northwards I passed an electricity cable hanging only three meters over the water. It was 18:00 when I found a good pebble island with hardly any mosquitoes. A large mountain slope in the east would provide some shade in the morning. I had become tired of waking up much too early for several days, due to the very early sun.
Day five, 20 July. The red glow in the morning was a prelude to bad weather. The river bent to east again along the slopes of the mountains. Just before the bridge to Ust-Nera, an older settlement was to be seen to the left. It was still there, an old watchtower and old houses, probably used for personnel and workers to dig for gold during the Stalin age in the 1950’s. Two kilometers downstream I arrived at the modern part of the town, when it started to rain heavily followed by a galeforce gust of wind.
A little boat passed by with two men. One of them mimicked rapids by moving his hands. I knew that there were rapids three hundred kilometers downstream. From this point however the satellite pictures I had studied, were blurred by low clouds over the next hundred kilometers. The weather cleared and after a long search I found a good tent spot in the midst of an impressive landscape. A bit scary though because the river would enter ever higher mountains.
Pure romance
Day six, 21 July. I had in mind to go to the top of a second mountain, on the western shore of the Indigirka. I organized my backpack on a gravel bank in front of the nearby slopes. Bears and wolves would not likely get to the island, so I left the more smelly food such as cheese and sausages, covered by stones. I crossed the river and put the kayak high on the shore. At about 17:00 I walked along a narrow marshland, climbed a steep ridge of about twenty meters high, to reach a level forest. I climbed a bushy hill, reached to top and went gradually down again.
Searching for water I only found frozen soil, so I cheered to find some ice-cold water halfway up the higher ridge, in a tiny pond of moss. I drunk two liters of hot tea and went further up to reach the higher point above the tree line. In the early dark there was a staggering view on the mountains in the east. I found a bumpy tent spot near a yellow colored rock of about eight meters high, standing on the ridge like a stone man.
Day seven, 22 July. Again the sun heated the tent way too early. I found myself in great luck to find a small pond of water nearby. Along the southern slopes I went through the dense dwarf spruces and reached a lower part of the ridge. From here, a row of stone pillars seem to march all the way to the three thousand meter mountain that was to be seen in the west. After a long and gradually ascending walk over loose rocks I reached a level mountain pass. The ridge I aimed to climb was still a kilometer away. I guessed my chances to reach the top were not very large because of the loose rocks and the sharp ridge of the mountain.
Baby Rock
Day eight, 23 July. That morning went up the mountain as high as possible and reached the top of a nearby elevation. Walking over the sharp edges was quite possible, but it would have taken a whole day to reach the summit. Lacking sufficient supplies for such and adventure I decided to return to the backpack I left in the nearby valley and to go back to the boat.
A large rain shower came to my direction. I hasted to pass the loose moss-grown fields of rocks that would become very slippery in the rain. A sound of far thunder made me change my route from the ridge to lower regions. I thanked my feet for reaching the tent place I slept two days ago, near the yellow colored stone man and the crystal clear source of water.
Day nine, 24 July. The loose plates of rocks acted like surfboards, sliding down the steep slope undeliberately. I went gradually up again and steep down the bushy hill, surprised by the large amount of energy I had to go up this hill a few days ago. Then, down the steep ridge and along the narrow marsh, to retrieve the kayak on the riverbank.
I packed everyting in the boat and went to the island, where I found the high calory foodstuff still under the rocks. After a little swim and organising food and supplies for another week, I continued my way over the river.
Day ten, 25 July. The river made a large loop, the narrowest part of the loop only seperated by a steep cliff of about twenty meters wide. Meanwhile a drizzle came from the grey sky. I reached a deserted settlement, to camp more north on a grassy field near two ruinous houses. One kilometer to the south an old watchtower peeked just above a hill.
The entrance of one of the houses was covered with coloured ribbons. A yellow motorboat was stalled inside. Flower patterned wallpaper hung loosely from the walls. In the other house newspapers from the 1950’s stuck from the walls, moving by the wind and probably used for insulation. It was likely that these buildings housed workers of a concentration camp during the Stalin age.
Day eleven, 26 July. It was a cool morning when I passed the sun-stroked cliffs further north. A clear blue river rushed into the Indigirka from the west, after it went through a perfectly straight, deep valley. The first white water stirred the river, then more quiet waters and a sharp turn to the left. Overhanging soil reminded of the destructive force of the river, which had eroded the ground beneath into caves that were large enough to cover a two-story building. The pine trees standing above seemed to have an uncertain future, prolonged by the thick layer of permafrost that seemed to hold everything together like concrete. Now the Indigirka went straight to the west for another fifty kilometres, to the entrance through the high Porozhny Mountains. During my lunch I found tiny chips of gold on the dark sand, moving on the edge of water and land.
Day twelve, 27 July. I was nervous while reaching the entrance of the passage trough the three thousand metres high Porozyny Mountains in the morning. A satellite picture clearly showed the white water sections, twenty white spots over a length of one hundred kilometres. The only available report came from Russians rafters many years ago.
‘Near the mouth of left tributary Taskan River (165km) Indigirka channels are coming together. The speed of the river is increasing. It runs along a large arch of the cliff and in 5km turns to the north to enter a gorge (Moma rapids, Ulahan-Hapchagay, Truba, Busic rapids) 2 km deep and 100 km long. The landscape is very impressive. The banks of the river are large boulders but some parts of the gorge are passable by foot only at low water. The first 50 km Indigirka cuts Porozhny Ridge. Gradient is about 3 m/km. Speed of the current 15-20km/h. The river forms some undercuts on the turns.’
Without mentioning the white water classifications I was left in great uncertainty. I stored the survival package in my floating vest, in case of capsizing and loosing the boat. The river made a sharp turn into the mountains. A strong white water section, then more quite waters for several kilometres. The next shivers had enough room to pass safely, until I heard a loud rushing noise. I went out of the boat and decided to go straight trough the middle. Before the next strong current I went out to put op the tent on a sandy spot between some large boulders, to stay overnight.
Day thirteen, 28 July. There were two white waters to be passed, both to the left. At the end of the morning I reached the other side of the Porozhny Range. Where a clear blue river came from the west I went ashore. Preparations were made to walk about fifty kilometres to the west to reach a lake on the north slopes of the Porozhny. Late that day I went along the southern banks of the river. It was steep and densely grown with tiny larch trees so I crossed the river to the other side which was more level, and camped a few kilometres more upstream. Near the wet soil there were so many mosquitoes, it was difficult to keep them out when entering and leaving the tent.
Day fourteen, 29 July. The route went along mossy riverbanks, over round rocks, sand and low grass, and through the forest. Large stretches of the riverbank were covered with a thick layer of snow. Having my lunch on the riverbed it started to rain in heavy drops. It continued for about two hours and stopped when I reached a pile of large boulders that had slid down from the slopes of the mountain. I went down to the river to find a reasonable route just along the edge of the water. After catching a large flag salmon, I cleaned the cooking place from leftovers because I planned to camp nearby. Definitely there were bears wandering around somewhere.
Day 15, 30 July. Over a large level field of rocks I made quick progress. Upstream the river made a curve to the south and cut into a series of valleys a hundred meters deep. More upstream I went down to the riverbank for a lunch. Near the wide marshlands at the bottom of the slopes of the mountain, there were the footsteps of a large animal. A moose lifted its head, saw me approaching and moved away with good speed. After a long walk I finally found a relatively shallow part of the river to cross. However the water near the shore was still deep enough to lift my backpack to float on the water.
Dropneus
I reached the other side and went through the level marshes, along some round lakes, to enter the slopes of a lower mountain range in the west. Somewhere above me was the lake I was heading to. I walked up the steep hill when I heard a sound of loud thunder. A large boulder had been released from the soil and was bouncing downwards. For a moment my heart stood still. Squirrels went up the trees when I walked through the rocky floor of the forest. I went to the right, over a narrow, bushy valley to cross a little stream that came from the mountains. On a relatively level spot I camped, with a hazy view on the easterly Porozhny Mountains.
Day sixteen, 31 July. I had waited for the weather to improve and at the end of the morning a little sunshine reached the tent. The clouds had moved upwards to the higher ridges. I went up over sharp, little plates of rock, a tiresome job because I slid down at every footstep. Near the ridge, the lake could now be seen to the south. Worries came into my mind. The rain of the past two days would have caused the water level of the river to rise. There was a chance that the kayak had been washed away from the riverbank, together with the gear and supplies for the coming four weeks. Having reached the lake, I decided to return to the boat while leaving the negative thoughts behind, as they really were of no use at the moment.
In the afternoon I walked over the narrow ridge, which made a good path. Walking over the rocks in the late sunshine has always been one of my favourites. To the right the Porozynhy Range with its sharp peaks were clearly to be seen. To the left I looked into lower mountains with a symmetric repeating pattern in a reddish glow. I felt really lucky to hear water at a northern slope, which was grown with moss and tiny birch trees. Nearby I found a fine camping place on a level spot, a broader sink in the ridge.
Soft shady mountains
Day seventeen,1 August. Over the ridge I walked down to a little lake and then up to a level plain. I went up again to a rocky cliff for a little rest, something to eat and drink, and for a good view. At the highest point, a cloud of flying ants found it time to flee their nest, landing on my face for some reason when I approached. I went down to the plain and towards a large mountain that overlooked many of the mountains south of the Porozhny. I was now nearing the location of the kayak. To get there I needed to pass the very steep southern slope of the mountain. For over three kilometres I walked over loose plates of rock with their razor sharp edges sticking out, with hardly any level spot to decently put your feet on.
After a very hazardous undertaking I now had to descend into the valley. I went down to the rushing sound of a river in the forest to drink three litres of hot tea. Now the terrain became really hard. I crawled over fallen trees along the stream, turned east again over large rocks, wood and a steep slope to end up in the dense forest of small larch trees I encountered the first day of the walk. I choose to go up the slopes to walk along the rocks. Now I went strait to the GPS location of the kayak. It took almost an hour to cross the larch bushes and reach the mound of the river I had followed for several days. Very uncertain whether to find the kayak, I yelled loudly when the boat was still there on the riverbank, my spaceship to mother earth.
Day eighteen, 2 August. After preparing food and supplies for the coming days, I went into the kayak again. The weather was clear with a strong wind from the north. The river went trough an astonishing landscape of high cliffs and mountains. It took three large bends to reach the spot I had noticed on the satellite pictures. Three white water sections over the whole width of the river required a careful approach.
I managed to paddle along the first sections on the right hand side. The second section however was a narrow jets stream with sharp, black rock at both sides. I choose to walk along the edge supported by a little river that mounded from the right. Now there was only one more to go. I went without a preview of the situation, and at 17:00 I passed it while cheering loudly. From now the river shouldn’t impose a real threat anymore.
END OF PART 1
