Well, my first Central Asian winter (click here for photos) is coming to an end, and I have to say I've been underwhelmed by the mild weather we've had here. No sub-zero (in fahrenheit) temps for weeks on end, no blinding blizzards burying the city in meters of snow, barely any snow in the mountains... I lugged my skis across the international dateline and through 5 airports to take advantage of the incredible skitouring terrain out here, and it's mostly been a grotesque caricature of an Al Gore movie: record heat in January, blooming flowers in February, bare brown hills by early March and massive gouges in the bases of my skis. Ok, I'm being a bit dramatic, but this has been the warmest winter out here in recent memory, and few remember a weaker ski season than this. Regardless, we've had a few decent days up in the Ala-Toos, and I got a taste of how inventive the ski bums of the Soviet Union could be with a diesel engine and a few hundred meters of wound steel cable. Though there are two chair lifts in the country, I have yet to experience them in the winter: it's only been soviet era t-bars and poma lifts and some kind of finger-chopping 'hook em and hang on!' surface lift system that's left a generation of locals (and my Bosnian friend Myrza) looking like high school shop teachers. I did manage a few tours out of bounds above Oru Sai near Bishkek and above the Karakol base in the Terskey Ala Too southeast of Lake Issyk Kul, both sublime experiences due to the majesty of the surroundings, despite the less than rewarding descents.
At Karakol I teamed up with a crazy Russian Kazakh from Almaty named Vitaly. Although, when his adrenaline got flowing, he only answered to the name Rage, no joke. Well Rage decided to posthole it behind me as I toured up above the top lift at Karakol. After 2-3 of new, unconsolidated snow hit the area, Rage was doing 4 times the work I was. I urged the trooper to soldier on, rather selfishly I suppose, because I had been dreaming of this ascent for weeks, and I all I could think about was the potentially huge stash of light powder on the northeast side of the ridge. Unfortunately it was cement on all sides, and despite the whole trip lasting 3 times as long as anticipated, it was worth it to be way up there, in the absolute silence surrounded by such raw beauty. I haven't heard such silence in a long time.
But, the beauty of living in the shadow of mountains averaging around 14,000 is that the winter up high lasts well into spring. Thanks to my introduction to Maxim, who runs Kyrgyzstan's only heli-ski operation with his father Slava, I'll be doing several more high altitude ski tours before the winter's done. Stay tuned for more ...
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