Between Heaven and Earth: Life and Snowboarding in Kyrgyzstan

Between Heaven and Earth: Life and Snowboarding in Kyrgyzstan

What is it about this special place that draws outdoor adventurers from all corners of the world? Weston Guide Sam Thackeray shares some words on his springtime splitboard excursion to the mystical, mountainous destination of Kyrgyzstan. Photos by Pierce Cameron (@pierces_passport) and Ryan Koupal. 

Follow @samuelthackeray for more pow slayin' greatness. 

 

(Photo: Pierce Cameron) 

 

Kyrgyzstan. The name elicits different thoughts and emotions for everyone.  Some immediately remember the tale of Tommy Caldwell and Beth Rodden’s harrowing travels there in 2000.  Others imagine gray streets, gray cement buildings, under gray skies, while soviet tanks roll through.  Others yet conjure images of Genghis Khan’s hordes on horseback ravaging the Steppe.  Perhaps the most common reaction is an empty thought cloud, a WTF, or a series of stutters as someone attempts to repeat the name.  The country is indeed all of these things, but so much more.  As a country, it’s younger than I am, but has a history dating back millennia.  Its history is steeped in conquest.  At times in the past, it has been ruled by the Chinese, Mongols, Persians, Muslims, and Soviets.  Not until 1994 did Kyrgyzstan gain independence.  With such a tumultuous past comes quite the melting pot.  People clearly of Mongolian or Chinese descent, others with Slavic ancestry.  Mosques and Eastern Orthodox Cathedrals.  Cement buildings which look like WWII era bunkers, sickle and hammer carved above the doors.  Others with giant pillars appearing more like ancient Greek or Roman citadels.  Massive sculptures of Manas, the legendary and mythical ruler who united the 40 Tribes of Kyrgyzstan, other sculptures of Buddhist monks. Cities familiar to any modern Westerner and a country side harkening back to the days of the Wild West.  A country still reeling from the collapse of communism, but learning how to move forward as a globalized democracy.  One foot planted in the future and another rooted in a distant past.  

 

(Photo: Sam Thackeray)

 

My initial draw to the country were the large, remote, and infrequently ridden peaks.  A combination that is invariably appealing.  I landed in the capital city Bishkek following 34 hours of travel and was met by a driver who spoke about as much English as I speak Kyrgyz, who would take me on a six-hour journey to the opposite side of the country.  Portions of the drive remind me of my home in Idaho, others let me know I am in a far-off land.  The majority of the drive traverses the shores of Lake Issyk Kuhl, the second largest alpine lake in the world, and drops me at the foot of the Tian Shan Mountains.  The following morning, I start the skin from the village up to our yurt camp at 8,000 feet to meet my fellow guide, support crew and settle in for the coming 5 weeks.  

 

(Photo: Pierce Cameron)

 

I still find it difficult to describe the snow in the Tian Shan. One thing I can say for sure, is that it is unlike any other place I have been.  It’s a shallow snowpack averaging about 3 feet per season.  The majority of which comes from moisture picked up from Lake Issyk Kuhl as storms roll over and crash into the Tian Shan.  It’s also cold.  So now the alarm bells are going off in all of us Avalanche Nerds heads.  Cold and shallow equals FACETS, the nightmare snow grain that haunts every backcountry skier and snowboarders’ dreams.  And you’re not wrong, it’s a nightmarish setup.  The entire snowpack consists of facets and depth hoar, some as large as 7 millimeters, where you can see the cupping and striation with the naked eye.  The saving grace is it’s rarely windy and storm totals rarely amount to more than 10 centimeters, meaning there usually isn’t a slab on top of all that sugar snow.  Riding with speed is your friend, and the unconsolidated snow means you can get face shots on demand, All Day Every Day. Never not powder as we say.

 

(Photo: Ryan Koupal)

 

In the first few weeks, every step was exciting.  New terrain, new views, new snowpack, new coworkers, learning Kyrgyz words, living life at 8,000 feet in traditional Kyrgyz yurts and snowboarding every day.  Yeah, that’s a dream!  There was seldom a moment when I wasn’t smiling. Getting to know fellow travelers and skiers on the skin track, endless fresh tracks and stoke by day.  Amazing local cuisine, Yahtzee, and the famous Kyrgyz Cognac by night.  Options abound for riding and it’s possible to ski for weeks without ever taking the same run, let alone crossing a track.  Each day was met with sunny skies and barely a breath of wind.  We really sunk our teeth into everything the zone has to offer, shredding from bell to bell every day and returning to cozy yurts as the sun sank behind the distant Kazakh skyline. It is hard to overstate how cool of an experience living in a yurt for weeks on end is, fully immersed in the mountains.  There are a few places in the world where we imagine standing on top of a 1,500 or 2,000 foot run and being able to see all the way to the bottom.  Alaska and The Alps immediately come to mind, but Kyrgyzstan is one of those places as well.  Standing at 11,000 feet and peering into the distance at mountains towering above the one I stood on left me dreaming of future expeditions.  But those thoughts were quickly replaced by a flow state as I dropped into untouched slopes of powder and giddy friends waiting below.

 

(Photo: Pierce Cameron)

 

During week three every step got REALLY exciting!  A series of storms rolled through putting down several feet of snow and starting the largest avalanche cycle I have ever personally witnessed.  The first morning we woke to see a ridgeline spanning well over a mile had avalanched wall to wall during the night.  We tip-toed our way into the mountains, cringing as every step sent a shockwave of collapsing facets rippling away from our feet.  We proceeded to remote trigger avalanches for the next several days.  Partially terrifying, partially amazing, wholly an eye opening and educational experience. Despite the dicey avalanche conditions, we were able to have a blast riding the fresh snow in low angle trees. We began to slowly step back into steeper terrain by traveling and riding slopes which had already slid.  Eventually it seemed like everything had slid or we had collapsed every square inch of the place, still we remained diligent.  Finally, our patience was rewarded by more days in the alpine and some beautiful ridge walks.  We were even able to ride one of the most aesthetic lines above camp, known as The Shrine, which required multiple descents, traversing several alpine bowls and ridgelines to access.  Indeed, we had come a long way.

 

(Photo: Pierce Cameron)

 

A trip like this would be extremely difficult, if not impossible without the support of locals, and we were lucky to work with many.  “King Nurbek '' as we refer to him, really makes the magic happen.  In a previous life he worked for a decade as a cook for the Soviet army, and then another ten years for the Kyrgyz.  Now he is the cook at our yurt camp, local knowledge keeper, and horse packing extraordinaire.  All while running his family farm which consists of horses, a handful of cattle, a herd of sheep, and an orchard.  During the summer months he also works as a truck driver.  Nurbek is a testament to adaptability and ingenuity.  We gain so much by having his support and it’s a two-way street.  Through this partnership he has been able to put an addition on his house, add indoor plumbing, and send his daughter to college in Karakol.  It’s safe to say it has changed his and his family’s life and is an example of what responsible ecotourism can look like.

 

(Photo: Pierce Cameron)

 

There are many aspects of my time in Kyrgyzstan that will stick with me.  The lessons learned about snowpack and avalanches are invaluable.  The opportunity to meet mountain lovers from across the world is always welcome.  And certainly, the endless powder turns and face shots were worth every minute crammed on a plane. The Tian Shan or Heavenly Mountains weren't named by accident.  They are a powerful range creating the borders of many countries.  For us, they create one amazing playground and a conduit to connect with locals and fellow world travelers.  The snowboarding is amazing, but a trip to Kyrgyzstan is so much more.  One thing that cannot be overstated is the kindness and generosity of the people.  It’s common for locals to carry a stoic expression, but it doesn’t take much more than a smile to get a beaming grin back.  Both are traits I have found in many poor parts of the world and a beautiful reminder of what is important in life.  From a Western perspective, Kyrgyzstan may have a long way to go, but it also has plenty to teach; about snowboarding and life!

 

(Photo: Pierce Cameron)


Follow Sam Thackeray @samuelthackeray for more pow slayin' greatness. 

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