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21.05.2007
Something happened down there… All three horses seemed to react in a
strange way. And then this thing from the sky. . Like a missile. The three
riders - Kristian and our two temporary crewmembers, or guests to be
precise - Henrik and Staffan seemed to be ok.
My horse Gustaf was in a hurry. He could hardly see his companions. That
clearly worried him. To be without a whip on path like this does not feel
that comfortable.
Again, perfect ski slopes with vertical drops all around between 400 meters
to 1000 meters. Luckily there was no snow because we were not on skis..
The path down was very narrow and boy was it steep on all sides. Thank
God the weather was perfect.
Our horseman Mahmet was behind with Filip II – our first gelding. So that
made Gustaf a little bit less nervous. But the speed was quite something
anyway..
Our start from Tekes was a bit later than planned. Three days in that town
was enough. Even if it is one of the cleaner towns in this area.
Our arrival to Tekes was surrounded by the usual hassle – foreigners on
horseback and this time with a strange horse. “Motor” is thorough bread
most likely born in France. He was a racehorse and now as having reached
the mature age of 10 years it was time for easier days. His galloping days
were over.
Motor was brought from a horse farm near the border to Kazakhstan a day
earlier. He was our fourth horse. We still needed to buy two horses. Six
horses should be enough to make this expedition work more or less
smoothly. With our temporary guests. Two of them – Staffan Simberg and
Henrik Arle had arrived some days ago from Finland. The plan was that
they would accompany us for two weeks.
After some wheeling dealing we managed two get two new members to our
horse family – Emil and Baron Numgan.
We rode out through the town at 3.15 pm the day was fair and we were
happy to be on horseback again.
That afternoon’s leg or distance was 26 km – just before the road made a
fairly steep turn upwards to the plateau. A nice valley green with cattle,
horses sheep and even some camel.
Our local guide Pat joined us the next day – he was to guide us over the
red mountain pass.
One more night accompanied by our truck. The road was very bad but
luckily no rain so far. Otherwise this muddy road would have been
impossible. We did loose contact with the truck and after some hassle we
finally managed to set a camp for the night.
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" CAMP BY THE RIVER AGHIAZ / 14.5. 1907
As advised by my host, I did leave most of my equipment with him and
started my hunting expedition to the Aghiaz cleft with only the most
essential.
It was a dreadful fuss to be surrounded by a big crowd of curious Calmucks
and Kyrgyz when organizing and re pack my 6 boxes. “The most essential”
could have been packed on 4 horses, maybe on only 3 – but the road was
said to be hair-raising so I made the decision to use all my 6 packhorses
to make the burden easier.
My personal things did fit into 2 boxes and my bed equipment (1 sack,
blankets, 1 “burka” and my fur coat), but 2 tents, the box for cooking
utensils, grain, potatoes and other necessities, buckets, tea pots etc
makes this load quite extensive.
The frost in the valley is supposed to be strong, so we have to be
equipped with
Enough warm clothes. "
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Next morning it was pouring down… by noon it was clear enough to continue
by horse.
Our preparations for this four-day leg without the comforts of the truck
took a while – as the whole nearby village was curiously following our
doings.
Pats outfit was interesting, black leather shoes, wool trousers a long, thick
over coat with a fake fur collar. He had two horses. One for himself and the
other for our equipment.
The hills and valleys where even greener than yesterday – in fact not a bad
riding weather at all. The hills got larger and the valleys deeper. Herds of
horses here and there but very few humans anywhere. These grasslands
seemed endless and very grand. Slowly, slowly we climbed higher and
higher as the vistas became grander and grander.
Perfect ski slopes in the winter – especially when the snow conditions are
supposed to be almost perfect. Bt it is better if this area could remain
untouched.
A few valleys more and we turned to the left to do a long and steep climb.
Our horses did 90% of all the hard work. Fantastic horses, must say it once
again.
We took a brake at the top – this time the view was even more
astonishing – three valleys meet at the bottom. All different colors.. Lots
of alpine spring flowers, three rivers and majestic snow capped mountains
in the background…to where our route and guide would take us.
I let Gustaf be loose – there was no place where he could escape. So he
enjoyed the fresh green grass without being attached to a rope.
Half our later we were off again – everyone but me…had to look for my
whip. Shit, where did I drop it..?
What was that? My own curiosity was as great as Gustaf eagerness to reach
his buddies. Almost. Down we go on this narrow, steep path. A path that I
would not go on by foot…so dangerous it seems to be. NO, no seem to be.
It is. But Gustaf seems to be sure of what he is doing. At least I like to
think so..
One mistake and boy, we are going to roll down like a snowball.
Must be about 600-700 meters down. No trees, nothing but grass and a
river at the bottom.
If this paths surface would be slightly more wet…or a bit drier. Then this
path would not be possible to use. Or it would be ones last bit of path..
Next turn, all well and the next. Every now and then Gustaf is neighing as
he realizes he is catching up…
Finally. Or this is not it yet. Because we still have quite a way down to go.
But we have reached Kristian & co
- Never heard a sound like that. It was like a fighter jet flying just over
your head.., says Staffan.
They all look a bit scared. No wonder.
- It must have been a Hawk diving for prey… Kristian says with a relived
smile.
He is calming down his horse. ”Motor” is shaking his head up and down as
he seems refuse to believe what he has to go through. This must be quite
a road for a horse that is used to a well-prepared racetrack. And this is
some turf for him.
- I think it was my helmet the hawk was aiming at. This hawk was not
many centimeters from m head, says Henrik.
That seems to be a likely explanation – his helmet is made of black
composite fiber with silver ventilation wholes in the front. And they look like
eyes. So, from a distance far above it could well look like something that a
hawk would like to satisfy its appetite…
WE all continue…still some distance to cover. Pat is almost out of sight with
his two horses. I wonder if this is what he does often.
The last fifteen minutes down are as breathtakingly dangerous as the
ones before.
Loose sand, mixed with stones.. Almost nothing to get a foothold. But
these amazing animals just find their way down.
Never, ever has anyone of us experienced anything like this before.
Somehow the movie “ Deliverance” keeps coming to my mind. We even
have our own Burt “Mahmet” Reynolds
We make our camp for the night at a beautiful spot by the river.
Tomorrow is another interesting day. We have to climb up to the pass.
From our present 1800 meters above sea level to 3600 meters.
We need some rest…not to mention the horses.
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