This is a description of the last few days, I think it will be about climbers, climbing companies, international relations and an attempt at a mountain. Or it could be something completely different, I never really know until the letter is finished.
It started about ten days ago, I had been invited to go on an expedition to Peak Nancy, near Khan Tengri. Not a difficult climb, but remote and very cold. In the end a total of four local climbers and myself agreed to go on the climb. The whole trip was being sponsered by the Kyrgyz sport committee. Trips like this used to happen all the time, paid for by the government, but with the fall of the Soviet Union luxeries such as paying for people to climb have disappeared.
This trip in reality I think was funded by the three German climbers that also wanted to climb a nearby peak. They had paid a trekking company about 4000 thousand dollars for the vehicle to get us there, accomadations and radio communication. They way I think it fell was that the company offered the extra room in the truck to any climber that wanted to go and got the sport committee to give a couple of hundred dollars for food.
But for me it meant a free trip exactly during the time of vacation at my university, so all for me was fine. We were to leave on a Tuesday morning but Monday night it was moved to Wednesday. So we gathered together Wednesday morning at 8:00, fully loaded with gear and enthusiasm. We were to pick the Germans up at nine. But the truck did not come, by noon we were getting worried and finally by about one the truck arrived and we headed out. The Germans this whole time were waiting in their hotel now for a day and a half. For us time does not matter, but there time is limited. This will turn into a short litany about the companies here. Clients are treated no different than fellow Soviet climbers. The Germans were most likely the only clients for the entire winter and still they could not give them timely professional service.
But anyway, the Germans were in good spirits because we were at last on the road, well not quite, first we had to go to the market to buy our supplies. For two hours we shopped for our food as the Germans waited in the truck. One spoke a small amount of English so I was the interpreter. So I was always explaining, yes we will leave soon. I escorted them in the Bizar to but some food for the road. The militia at this bizar are particulary aggressive, and when they approached us and asked for documents I decided to hold my ground. We were one American and three Germans all dressed in alpinism gear, double boots and all, just buying some food. I showed my document, a card that says I am a guest in this country please treat me with respect, but they motined for us to come with them to a different room so they could search us. Since we are obviously not crimminals and the only purpose could be to steal money from us I refused and said talk to me here. He again said to come with him and took hold of my arm, I said dont touch me and I want to see your document as I pulled a pen and paper from my pocket. As usual this did the trick and the other militia guy motioned for him to leave us alone.
So now at a little past three we start out of Bishkek, but not before a detour to somebodies house to pick something up, so now it is after 4 and we are just leaving the city, but we are hungry so we stop at a roadside Yurta and have dinner. The Germans are a bit confused and I just say dont worry we will get there someday. At the Yurta they serve monty, pelmeni, plov, lagman and shashlik. This is not suprising, you can go to the dirtiest yurta or the fanciest intourist hotel and you will find only these dishes and nothing else. I have a plan to open a cafe called the Hard Ice Cafe, where I will serve pizza and the like, good coffee, have a climbing wall and good music with no room for dancing. But until then I will eat Monty, pelmeni, plov and lagman.
So as darkness sets in we start out on the very beautiful drive along Lake Issyk Kul to the town of Kara Kol. The trip took forever, three times the driver, who from the morning was obviously very hungover needed to stop for a half our to put his head down and nap on the steering wheel. The heater was also turned on full and the truck was like a sauna. We asked them to please turn the heater off which meant that soon the truck was an icebox. So we pulled into Kara Kol at one in the morning, slightly delerious from the heat, half sleep and beer consumd along the way. Had this been a professional type company we would have picked up the clients at nine, been prepared, had a nice senic drive along the shore of lake Issyk Kul and pulled into Kara Kol while it was still light. I do not think the company operators see any difference between the two varients, either way we got to our destination.
Once in Kara Kol we drove past the hotel I assumed we would stay at and went to an old climbing base in town. There is a nice Finn style house, very comfortable, but we drove past that too to an old two room house with broken windows, no water or heat. The Germans who easily could have afforded the two dollars to stay in the nearby hotel had to stay in this old house because the Russians could not afford it. We set to making this place home, moved some furniture and threw mattresses on the floor. The Russians scrounged up a stove and propane bottle for heat and started to set it up in their room I mentioned that perhaps they should set it in the space between the two rooms so that the Germans might get a bit of the heat. They hadn't thought of that.
We were now joined by the director of the company and a couple of his friends, when we had settled in we sat in a circle broke bread and opened a bottle of vodka. The directer and friends were I assume in their early sixties and the three Germans in there late twenties. The old guys started saying all the german they knew, things like Hitler kaput, put your hands up, and telling jokes about how stupid the German soldiers were. They wanted me to translate, but I declined. The germans could figure out enough to already be offended. We went to sleep, but the older guys stayed up for another hour just outside our door drinking and makng a lot of noise, keeping everybody awake. Now again, I did not care, this trip for me was free, I was just embarrassed for the Germans, and could not understand how a company can give such bad service and be completly unaware of it. I do not need to mention the compamies name, because this exact senario could happenwith any company you choose here.
In the morning the Germans expected to load into the vehicle and go over the pass to the mountain range, such naive clients. First the russians had to go to the market and buy more food, things like meat are less expensive in Kara Kol than in Bishkek, so we would leave the next day. The Germans waited in the unheated house for the day. But there was one other, larger problem. A few days earlier the pass had been avalanched and nobody knew when the pass would be opened. WE knew this in Bishkek and I wondered why we were still going, but the idea was to get to Kara Kol and then wait. But they did not mention this to the Germans who are watching days of their trip slowly tick by. I explained the situation and we waited. We finally heard that the pass would not be open for a week, at least, so that could mean anything.
We decided to try a different peak outside of Kara Kol, we loaded up with a weeks worth of supplies and were driven as far as the road would go then headed in for a two day approach to a difficult mountian to climb. I think I need to hurry this story along. So I will just scetch details. The snow was deep and moving was slow. And on the third day bad weather came in adding more snow and making a glacier headwall impassable. We waited for weather to clear but when it didn't turned back due to lack of food. We had to wait another day at the trailhead for the truck to come get us.
Back in Kara Kol at our little house that now felt like home we waited for news of the pass and rested after 6 nights out in the mountains. The first evening vodka was purchased, we went to a sauna and spirits were quite high. We were starting to feel like more of a complete team and I was called on to ask and answer questions between the German who spoke a little and the Russians. Then something happened, a bit of national rivilry flared up in regards to who could drink more. They wanted the contest to be between America, Germany and Russia, but I declined. So it was Andrei v.s. Entz. They battle began as they faced each other taking one shot of vodka every three minutes.
Entz sat on his chair, elbows on his knees, hands clasped looking intensly at Andrei, who sat on a pile of pillows and sleeping bags. The first bottle was finished and another was opened. It was entering a dangerous stage and I even tried to stop it, but it would go until somebody gave in. Andrei looked to be losing, he was sprawed out barely able to get the shot glass to his lips as shot after shot was handed to him. Entz remained stoic almost not moving except to bring the next shot to his lips. Then, as the second bottle was nearing an end, without a hint of warning, Entz projectile vomited forward, they spray of puke covering Andrei who sat across from him. Cheers went up from the Russians and Andrei was able to get to his feet and declare himself the winner. It has to be one of the funniest things I can remember seeing, Andrei, covererd in somebody elses puke, raising his arms in victory. Entz recovered and as was required took all his clothes off and rolled around in the snow.
The next day news from the pass was not good, there was not enough fuel for the bulldozers so it would take longer than expected. I was watching my vacation time slip away, so I said farewell to the group and caught a bus back to Bishkek. I arrived yesterday and tomorrow will spend five more days skiing in the mountains here and then return to work at the university.
So thats all
garth"