Day #1: From Yelizovo to Avachinsky Base Camp
A serene, blue sky had made its appearance by dawn time today over the southern part of the Kamchatkan Peninsula. This beautiful summer morning found me and my friends Kristina, Tatyana, and Gennady in an old flat, downtown Yelizovo City. We were up by 6:30 am, ready to finally begin on our epical trekking adventure in Nalychevo National Park.
Nalychevo Nature Park was established in 1995 to comprise the valley of Nalychevo River and the mountain-volcano chains encircling it, right north of Petropavlovsk and Yelizovo cities. It covers a total area of 287,000 hectares. It hosts some of Kamchatka’s most eminent volcanoes of which four (Zhupanovsky, Dzenzur, Avachinsky, and the great Koryaksky: one of Kamchatka’s highest) are active; wondrously scenic mountainous, marine, and tundra landscapes; hot mineral springs and various peculiar geological phenomena; and an opulent variety of distinctive flora and fauna.
We arrived in the city two days ago, after a month-long stay at Kuril Lake on the southernmost tip of Kamchatka. We spent these last two days in the city in fervent preparations for our upcoming trip… planned the route well on the map; got the permissions at the park’s headquarters (₽400 for my Russian friends, ₽600 for me the foreigner); got equipped with pepper sprays and firecrackers to keep us safe from any bad-tempered bears we may encounter; and bought plenty of food, gas, and other essential provisions. Having racked up way over 100 kg of stuff to share out between our 4 backpacks, at about 7:30 am today, we left the flat.
It took a 30-minute ride in the cab we called to reach the end of the paved road, northeast from Yelizovo airport, at 53.2049/158.5382. During this short ride occurred also the first accident of the trip, when a desire to rub my right eye dawned on me… What was wrong with it was that, apparently, some residues of pepper spray ended up on my finger while I was holding the can before… I couldn’t open my eye for 20 minutes; it probably excreted enough tears to fill up a small water bottle; and half my face remained numb for half the rest of the day. Conclusion: the spray is of definitely good quality and there is solid ground to trust that it will effectively oust any angry bear.
From that spot on, we had to cover about 20 km until our today’s destination: the col between Avachinsky and Koryaksky volcanoes. The route ran through a dry riverbed with thick low tree vegetation on either side. The view towards both the volcanoes was breathtaking throughout this entire part of the trip.
A dirt road is carved on the riverbed. So we had faith we might hitch a ride in some tourist jeep or something. But for the first part of the trip, nothing drove past. We kept walking patiently in the intense morning heat, and had covered some 6 km, when our fortune took a turn. We were having a rest in a shade by the riverbed side when we heard an approaching vehicle. The girls ran and stopped it. They had some space on the top of the car which the girls filled.
I and Gennady walked for another km or so until a second passing-by vehicle offered to give us a ride, too. They shortly dropped us off to cross on foot a part of the road which was covered by much snow – which they’d have difficulties to drive through carrying the extra weight – and they picked us up again right after it.
With our luck having been such, all of us had made it to the camp before midday. We pitched our tent, lunched, and got a good nap. In the evening, we got acquainted with Chantal: a Swiss girl who camped alone nearby and is also bound to climb Avachinsky tomorrow. We agreed to start all together at dawn tomorrow.
Now the time is past 22. The sun has long set. Cold and darkness gradually take over. The silhouettes of the volcanoes are slowly merging with the night sky. Stars appear, one after another, in the firmament. The fire is dying out unattended. The rest are already sleeping in the tent. And I’m about to do the same.
Day #2: Climbing Avachinsky Volcano
The col between the two enormous volcanoes was dipped in thick, gloomy fog when we got up at 5:30 today. We started working right away on our breakfast and on packing some essentials we’d need during our hard way up to Avachinsky. The plan was to leave the tent and most of our stuff where they were, ascend the nearly 2,000 meters of altitude difference to the top of Avachinsky light-weighted, and return back to the same spot by evening to settle for another night. Chantal also showed up fully prepared and we started on our trek at 7:00.
We headed straight up, east from the camping ground. It was a morning of exquisite memorability-value. There was something mystical about advancing through this alien landscape. It caused me a kind of sensation very similar to the one I imagine the future pioneer solar-system explorers will experience upon landing on a new world. The trail up was steep and rather demanding, moving alternately over volcanic sand, screes, and snow patches. With the visibility range hardly exceeding a couple of meters, we had to remain in a tight procession so no one gets lost.
Unlike what I expected, there were numerous other groups climbing the volcano concurrently with us. Almost unexceptionally all of them were parts of organized tours and, as far as I noted, there were no non-Russians amongst them.
A bit before noon, we made it to a very picturesque rest point below a peculiar rock pile. A number of planks were laid there to function as benches. This spot is situated right on the foot of the volcano’s conical dome. The toughest part of the ascent started from there on.
The volcano slope was anyway steep as crazy, but the sand-and-scree ground which covers it made it feel even steeper. At least half of every step we made up was wasted in sliding. And it was only getting linearly steeper and steeper.
We had covered more than half the way up the cone and the fog persisted as dense as ever. I almost even started to lose faith that it’s going to recede at any point as we moved towards the higher strata. That would be a great pity to climb all this way up and only be able to see that few-meters-wide sphere of white blurriness encompassing us. But sure enough, some 400 altitude meters before the summit, the first sunlight penetrated through the thinning-out vapor and caused the crystalline volcanic stones to glisten in joy.
Soon enough, the imposing summit of Avachinsky appeared against a deep blue background, and its glory was dominated only by the mighty figure of the neighboring Koryaksky which also emerged across the cloud ocean underneath. That was the morale boost we needed to stubbornly keep moving up over the last, steepest part of the trek.
It was early afternoon when we finally stood on the crater rim. Fumes and sulfur odor were ejected out of the abysmal crater below. The reddish ground we were stepping on was emitting warmth. It made a perfect natural heated mattress to lie and have a nap on. And then it rendered the decision to get up and start hiking again through the chilly breeze a particularly difficult one to take. But, of course, we eventually took it.
We did the short hike along the crater rim to the highest point of the volcano at 2,741 AMSL and started on our way down. By now, the greatest bulk of the fog had dissolved all the way down to the valley. The splendid views that we enjoyed from the summit of Avachinsky accompanied us throughout the entire way back down to the col and, indeed, were even more splendid.
That impressive, huge, grotesque crag known as Verblyud (camel) standing in the middle of the col was now visible. This time we took another trail down passing directly below the foot of that rock. We finally made it back to the camp by dusk. The rain that had fallen earlier had dampened whatever wood was to be found, making it pretty impossible to start a fire. We just prepared a rich dinner necessary to replenish all the energy we consumed throughout this hard day and hit the hay straight away. Yet another hard day awaited us tomorrow.
Day #3: Around Koryaksky Volcano
When we got up, at around 7 am this morning, we beheld the exact same, foggy and moist scenery of yesterday. We started getting ready to continue our trip behind the col and down into Nalychevo Valley. Only the four of us were to continue. Chantal would head straight back to Yelizovo the way we’d come from. She was already packed and stopped by only briefly to say goodbye while we were still breakfasting. But then, altogether unexpectedly, our group got further reduced from four to three.
Gennady was the deserter. He had already shown signs of extreme exhaustion after yesterday’s tough trek, he wasn’t feeling very well, and he seemed quite daunted to continue any further. All of a sudden, when we were just about to start, without having given out any prior clue, he blurted out his impulsive decision to give up and return to the city by himself. That was quite sad from the perspective of breaking up the team; and on top of that, a very disruptive occurrence, too. We had to unpack everything on spot and rearrange all our provisions.
We finally were ready to get moving at around 9. We wished Gennady good luck as he started going down, and we took the way up. We soon passed once again by the foot of the ‘Camel Rock’ and started moving along the slope of Koryaksky Volcano. We’d soon find out that it wasn’t only our group’s number which dwindled, but the number of human beings we were to encounter altogether, as well. Well, in fact, the number of other trekkers along the trail did not only dwindle, but was rather nullified. We did not see a soul for all the rest of the day. It was only the three of us amid a vast, deathly, yet so fascinating wilderness.
We were actually warned at the National Park headquarters in the city that, due to the uncommonly strong snowfalls of the previous winter, it’s not a good idea to take the trail around Koryaksky. We figured out why… There was basically no such thing as a trail left. Almost the entire eastern slope of the volcano was covered in snow. We often had to make long detours and ups-and-downs to avoid dangerous ice slides. There also were a few tricky passings across deep moats carved through the snow by running water.
The fog persisted for the rest of the day. We saw neither a blue spot nor the sun’s position in the sky at any moment. We only managed to get a brief glimpse of the immense flat tundra down in Nalychevo Valley. Other than that, we were constantly enveloped by a smothering whiteness, only periodically interrupted by stripes of black land. That was a good clue of how it’d feel like if our eyes weren’t capable of perceiving color.
We kept advancing slowly and arduously throughout the entire day. The whiteness was coming close to being replaced by an utter blackness when we finally spotted an ideal camping ground. We were on an almost perfect east line from the summit of Koryaksky. There was a small, level piece of land beside a clear brook. We pitched the tent, made dinner, and remained wondering at the magic of the lonesome night.
Day #4: Down to Nalychevo Valley
A wonderful spectacle was reserved for us to witness as soon as we opened our eyes this morning. Finally, sunshine! This fantastic landscape that remained concealed to us throughout the previous day was now visible in all its splendor. We spent a relaxed morning and, in a great mood, we started on our way down to the valley. It was to be a much harder way than I had originally predicted.
The sunshine lasted for only a couple of hours, after all. Then everything got plunged into that wonted, torpidity-effecting whiteness once again. The terrain remained the same as yesterday during the first part of the day. We were moving alternately over snow and rough rocks. We crossed through a number of more moats. Finally, we had to pass across a deep ravine which caused us a hell of a fatigue. After the ravine, there was still another tough terrain full of jumbled rock piles and sinkholes. And then we found ourselves getting down a smoothly inclined slope covered by snow and tuft. The hard part was done. It was exactly then when the rain started.
What a rainfall! It kept pouring and pouring fiercely as we were hastily moving down the slope. We finally made it to the foot of the volcano and into the valley. Now we were in bears’ territory. The whole place was full of their footprints. The girls, who became anxious about their presence, raised quite a clamor, whistling and singing, so to drive them away. If we were a little quieter, we would have very good chances to see many bears on that part of the trek. After all, luckily, we managed to see at least one.
Kristina was the first to see her as we were walking down a gentle snow slope. She stood there unsuspecting, some 100 meters ahead, on a little bushy hummock by the end of the slope, apparently too busy to notice us approaching in advance. We halted and observed her for a few seconds. Then I released a loud cry at her. She turned around with a jolt, stood up on her hind legs, and focused her vision on us. I continued shouting at her while excitedly waving my arms and jumping up and down. She turned around and ran away from us.
Soon after, the rain receded and we reached to Shumnaya (noisy) River where we were intent on camping for tonight. There we found a nice, broad camping ground with a lot of geothermal activity taking place around it. The girls started to pitch the tent and I went down to the riverbank to fetch water. While bent over the river filling my bottles up, I heard human voices from the opposite bank. Soon they appeared on that little, sketchy, wooden hanging bridge we were to cross tomorrow. They kept passing and greeting one after another; 20-30 individuals all in all; the first human beings I saw after we left the Avachinsky basecamp.
They were mostly from Krasnoyarsk and were doing the same trek with us, just in the opposite direction. It was quite a fortunate coincidence because they had gas and a fan necessary to start a fire in such a moist environment. We made a big fire and remained by it drinking tea and drying ourselves out. The night came, the sky cleared, and myriad stars appeared overhead.
Day #5: To Nalychevo Nature Park Central Station
Another bright morning over the valley of Nalychevo we witnessed as we got up today. The guys from Krasnoyarsk were up already packing and soon took off. The lonesome quiet was reinstated around the camping ground. We spent an easygoing morning, preparing breakfast and packing at an excessively lazy pace. It was almost noon when we eventually departed.
We crossed the bridge over Shumnaya River and proceeded further deep into the valley. Save the steep and slippery muddy trail up the gorge wall after we crossed the bridge and a few stream crossings, and unlike the draining trek of the previous days, we had a leisurely way. The trail was even and well-trodden. Aside from the difficulty level of the trail, the environs were also now totally different. The bleakness we witnessed while circling the volcano was now changed to a lush, lively landscape full with greenery, singing birds, and various small creatures. The most numerous of those creatures were by far the mosquitos: unnaturally huge and bold ones, whose bites gave more of an acute, scorching pain than itching.
The sun was still shining at the time we made it to that nice little hut surrounded by natural hot springs. It would have made an ideal refuge for the night if our timing were different. We there met a group of three Isreali trekkers, besieged by an army of partying mosquitos, having lunch before continuing up the way we’d just come from. After we applied ample loads of repellent on our bare skin and clothes we also sat and lunched.
The landscape changed further as we continued down towards the national park station. Extensive birch forest began to take hold. The weather changed, too. At first, the sky darkened. Then it started to drizzle. And during the last 5 or so km before we reach our destination, the entire sky was torn apart. What an insane downpour! The raindrops felt more like gravel than water. The whole trail was turned into a stream, with the water exceeding ankle-level, so that we had to wade through it instead of hiking. To say it rained mammoths and brontosauri would be more accurate than ‘cats and dogs’ in this case.
It was around 5 pm when we finally made it to the station. The rain was still raging wildly by then. We ran and took cover under the porch of the first hut we encountered. The station was very different than I thought. I actually expected to see just a refuge. But in reality, there was an extensive complex of huts, kiosks, and facilities of various uses, and even a hut that functioned as a museum. There was a relatively large number of tourists and staff stationed there. Some of the former had reached the place trekking, while others were brought by helicopters.
The rain did eventually stop. The first thing we fancied doing was to try out some of the many mineral hot springs of the area. We left our wet clothes and backpacks in the ranger’s hut, and headed straight to the springs. Sitting inside the effervescent pool and gaping at the stunningly beautiful and bizarre environs was a very exhilarating experience after all these hard days in the wild. We basically forgot that we had to move on at some point. It had gotten late and cold; and the camping ground was quite far from where we were; so we decided to rent a hut and settle comfortably for this night.
Day #6: Over the col between Aag and Kupol mountains
Just like on the two previous days, we witnessed a gloriously brilliant morning when we got up. There were hardly any clouds at all in the sky. Before departing, we took a stroll to explore a bit around the area of the station in bright daylight. We then packed everything and started on our way out of the Nalychevo Valley.
Despite the sun shining, we soon were as wet as we could possibly get. Yesterday’s showers had transformed the trail into a swamp. At times the mud we needed to cross through reached to knee-level. Furthermore, long parts of the trail were left to be devoured by dense, 3-meter tall hogweed growth. We needed to push straight through them in order to proceed, and a great part of the plentiful dew covering their broad foliages ended upon us; so that we were dripping all over as if it were raining.
By the time we started to ascend up to the pass, in the early afternoon, the vegetation had given out and the rain started. It rained again as crazy for all the rest of the day. The way up to the pass was steep but not particularly hard. Upon reaching the top, we took a brief break to wonder at the view of the Nalychevo Valley for the last time and headed down the other way.
It was a pleasant hike down the gorge of Pinachevskaya River. The rain kept falling as strong as before, but we couldn’t get any wetter… so who cares. It took us another hour or two to reach the place we intended to overnight. It was a refuge designated on the map as Kordon Semenovskiy. It was a little, cozy hut near a brooklet, hidden amidst thick vegetation. There was a small stove inside and a fairly good load of dry firewood. We heated the place up; let our clothes dry; prepared a rich, congratulatory (our last for this trip) dinner; and surrendered to the arms of Morpheus.
Day #7: Down to Pinachevo village and back to civilization
For the fourth morning in a row, we got a clear sky today. But unlike all the previous days, the weather was to remain fair for the entire day. Finally a dry day.
We packed, bid goodbye to our last night’s home, and began striding towards civilization. The way was quite long but easy and, most importantly, relatively dry – leave aside the mud. The sceneries were still objectively stunning along the way, but in comparison with what we’d been seeing throughout the previous days, there was nothing really extraordinary about them. On the previous day, we didn’t encounter any other humans after we left the station. Today the case was the same, except for a cyclist couple and a lone worker of the national park, all heading up towards the station.
It was late afternoon when we finally made it to the road near Pinachevo village. Our trekking adventure in Nalychevo National Park was finished. The original idea was to hitch a ride from there to Yelizovo. Though, after having waited for quite some time without any single car passing by, we judged it might take hours, if not weeks, for a car to drive that way. We called a cab.
We found an interesting occupation to keep ourselves busy while waiting for the cab. We carried the firecrackers all that way without having made any use of them, as we didn’t have to confront any malicious bear. Now that the trip was done, it was time to use them just for fun.
The cab should be arriving there any moment soon when a curio Soviet jeep emerged out of the curve, driving away from the village. The old man who drove it pulled over of his own accord and inquired whether we need a ride to the city. I subsequently felt qualms about bringing the poor cab driver all that way from Yelizovo and disappearing like that; but… well… yeah… whatever. We were soon dropped off in the twilighted streets of Yelizovo. Another great adventure had just become a noble memory.
