Tolbachik, Kamchatka
... click on a picture to see it full size...
Kamchatka is one of the easternmost provinces of Russia. It is very big and very empty - more than three times the size of England, with a population of just 300,000. Most of them live in the capital, Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsk, so the rest of Kamchatka is completely unspoilt, with spectacular landscapes, varied wildlife... and volcanoes. There are over 150 volcanoes in Kamchatka, and about 30 are currently active. One of the most interesting ones is Tolbachik: adjacent to volcano is a rift zone where eruptions have occurred twice in recent times, in 1975 and 2012. Both eruptions produced several new cones, and enormous volumes of magma which flowed up to 20 km from the source.
Kamchatka was a closed area until 2000- not even Russians were allowed to go there. It is now open for tourism, but it is still a military zone, and is subject to tighter controls than elsewhere in Russia. Because I had a private visa (for visiting a friend), I wasn't supposed to go more than 20km from Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsk. The only possibility to explore further afield (and that's what Kamchatka is all about) was to take an officially organized tour. Irina asked a few friends, and they suggested a good company.
Because it is so sparsely populated, excursions have to be self-sufficient, so the main travel options are a heliocopter for day trips (not really possible on my budget) or a thing that looks like a school bus on steroids (raiseds suspension, big wheels, truck cab) for camping trips. I was a bit concerned about travelling such a long way in a monster school bus, so when the tour guide came to pick me up, I was very happy to see him driving a Landcruiser. The guide introduced himself as Leonid, and then we got in and set off. The landcruiser did have very big wheels, and it took a few minutes to get used to the way it swayed from side to side, but it had very comfortable seats.
When he asked me a question, it came out in perfect English. I assumed that Leonid was fluent in English, and gabbled out a reply: he then asked me to slow down. I repeated my reply slower, and in English for non-natives. He nodded and said "I think we are going to get on fine." He started telling me a few things about Kamchatka and the volcanoes: occasionally he got stuck for a word, but generally I could understand what he was saying. He later told me that he hadn't spoken english for a while- he worked briefly in Cuba with Canadian tourists.
We stopped in Koryaki, a small village that seemed to be entirely given over to servicing the tourist excursions. There were several small bars and restaurants on each side of the road, and a portakabin-style toilet at one end.The main attraction was pierozhki- oblong doughnuts served hot, with a filling of cheese, potato, meat, mushrooms or some combination. There were also sweet versions filled with fruit.
After wolfing down a potato and mushroom pierozhek, we waited a while to meet the rest of the group. They turned up after about 20 minutes, and Leonid introduced me to Alexander, the other guide. Soon we set off on the next stage of the journey- about 250km on the main north-south road. The road stretched to the horizon, with a wide, overgrown verge and then trees as far as the eye could see.
One thing that impressed me was the long stretches of pristine crash barrier. In Egypt, if there is a 400-metre section of crash barrier, there will usually be about 10 holes in it. I commented on this to Leonid, then added "Egyptians are very bad drivers!", which made him laugh a lot more than I expected.
The summer is very short in Kamchatka, so they try to cram as much road repair work as possible into the available time. This resulted in long stretches of road that had been widened and levelled with aggregate, but not yet surfaced with tarmac. This presented no real problems for off-road vehicles like ours, apart from the dust clouds created by traffic in the other direction. Fortunately, the traffic was very sparse. I soon realised why so many cars have cracked windscreens.
At one stage we had to slow down because a bear was lumbering across the road: we crawled past on the other side of the road as he sat down and watched us pass by. Later we saw a fox: we were going quite slowly, and the fox walked right up to the car: Leonid said that people feed them, so the fox has learned to beg for food.
We stopped for lunch in Milkova, and I was able to get to know the other guests: Dima, Pavel and Masha who were from Moscow and probably in their late twenties, and Liena from St Petersburg, who was about the same age as me. Dima spoke very good English, but with the same kind of care in choosing words as Leonid: he kindly helped me to order some food.
The others finished eating before me and, when I went outside, there was no sign of them or the two cars: I had a moment of panic, then walked round the corner and found Pavel and Masha, who had found a shop that sold ice creams. Dema reappeared soon after, bearing a hat like a beekeeper's veil, intended to keep of the voracious Kamchatka mosquitoes. He showed me where he had bought it from: a cornucopia of outdoor supplies. I considered buying one myself, but then I remembered that Irina has asked the guides to provide me with a mosquito hat.
The cars reappeared, and we set off on the next leg of the journey: 170km on a minor road. the tarmac gave out about 5km from Milkova, and from then on the road surface was either aggregate or badly worn concrete, both of which produced a veritable duststorm when a car passed. It soon became clear just how empty Kamchatka is: from the outskirts of Milkova onwards, there was no trace of human habitation, no trace of human activity other than the road and a few signs. Some of the signs warned about bears or fires, or gave the names of rivers (there are lots of rivers) but the majority simply reminded you that you still had a hell of a long way to go. And mobile phone signal? Forget it!
The road had a verge of grass and fireweed: beyond that was a wall of trees on both sides of the road. Most were birch trees, tall compared to their English equivalents, and occasionally poplar or larch. As we went further from Milkova, we started to see occasional pines which towered over the birches, though most of them were dead.
Occasionally we passed cars that had stopped by the road: any people brave enough to step outside were frantically batting at mosquitoes. We stopped by a small bridge: I put on my jacket and then sprayed myself with mosquito repellent as soon as I got out. Leonid climbed onto the roof of the landcruiser and passed down some water containers. We walked down some steps to a small spring and filled the water containers.
Soon after, we reached the Kamchatka river: fast-flowing and wide, with the shores littered with uprooted trees that had been carried downstream as the snow melted. Alexander had stopped there: we all got out and walked half-way across the bridge, which was mercifully mosquito free.
A little further along the road, we turned on to a forest track: two deep ruts with grass growing between them, a wall of trees either side and forming an arch above us. We crossed Frozen River- which wasn't forzen at all. There were three branches of the river: the widest was completely dry, and the next was no more than a stream, but the final one looked pretty deep as Alexander's car forded it.
For the first couple of hours, progress was rapid: long, straight stretches with occasional obstacles. This part of the track took a direct route to the original base camp and from there on to the mountain. The base camp was situated in a valley: a small stream supplied plenty of water. Unfortunately, one of the lava flows from the 2012 eruption found the valley: it destroyed the camp and carried on down and south for several kilometres. The original track was blocked by tn or more metres of solidified lava, so a 10-km detour was required. The route of the detour was not chosen for speed or for easy terrain: It was dictated by the boundaries of the flow, which often loomed through the trees a few metres from the track. When the flow finally ground to a halt, it had pushed over trees at odd angles- some of which, surprisingly, had not caught fire- but trees only a few metres from the flow were unaffected.
By the time we returned to the original track, we were quite a bit higher: pine trees were much more common among the broadleaves. Eventually we emerged from the forest onto a lunar landscape: fine grey volcanic slag as far as the eye could see. It made an easy sriving surface and we picked up speed: an hour or so later, we arrived at the new base camp, at about 1000 metres. Again, the location was chosen because there was water, but it also benefited from the protection of a V-shaped hill which would hopefully divert any future flow.
The base camp was pretty busy, so Alexander decided to look for somewhere higher up. Eventually we found a suitable area that was well away from any other camps.
We got out of the jeeps and started to explore. The terrain was mostly fine slag, with occasional boulders ranging from half a metre to five metres across. Many of them were tall and slender, giving the area the atmosphere of some ancient druid site. The slag is light and fluffy- it contained a lot of gas, which expanded as it came out of the volcano. Most of it is light grey, with occasional flecks of red. The overall impression is that of walking around in a giant cat litter tray. Even in this hostile environment, there were small plants growing.
I helped Leonid unload some tents from the jeep. We opened up the biggest bag and he asked me to stand underneath it and hold the middle up. He said that it would take two minutes, and gave me a countdown as he worked around the outside working some kind of magic to make the tent take shape. When the two minutes was over, I was standing in the middle of a square tent about four metres across: this the cooking and eating area. Leonid carried on working on the big tent, and I helped the Moscow team assemble theirs. After a couple of false starts, it was looking pretty good. Next, we put together Liena's tent. Most of the stuff had been unpacked from the jeeps and stowed somewhere, apart from a shiny red plastic suitcase looked bery out of place standing all alone in this grey wilderness.
It was starting to get dark, and I was wondering where I was going to sleep. Then Leonid produced a smaller tent which unfolded like an umbrella: it took literally 30 seconds to assemble. We atached some guy ropes and piled up some slag along the sides to keep the wind out, then I was able to crawl in and unpack my stuff.
By this time, Alexander had prepared a meal, and we all settled in the warmth of the cooking tent to eat a hearty meal of rice and beef. Alexander didn't speak much English, but he went out of his way to make me feel welcome. I wasn't drinking beer that night, and he gave me some refreshing herbal tea: I later found out that it was made from rose hips. The conversation eventually got around to Ivrachka- ground squirrels- and Leonid decided that this was a subject that needed some explanation. He went out to the car and came back with a map, then pegged it to the side of the tent using plastic forks. What followed has the air of a military briefing, as he explained how American ground squirrels had somehow made it across the Bering strait (only 75km) from Alaska, spread west into Siberia and south into Kamchatka.
When we started to discuss plans for the following day, Alexander said that there was no need to get up early because we would have to look at the weather before deciding where to go. It looks like the others were planning to take advantage of this and stay up late, but I was very tired so I went to bed.
Once out of the cooking tent, it was bitterly cold: I prepared for bed as quickly as I could, but was shivering as I finally slipped into the sleeping bag. I soon realised that I had made a schoolboy error: the tent was on a slight slope, and my head was downhill. Plus, I had put the sleeping mats neatly aligned with the sides of the tent, so my head pressed against one end of the tent and my feet the other. I crawled out of the sleeping bag, re-arranged the sleeping mats so they were diagonal, turned the sleeping bag round and got back inside it. I could hear the others talking in the cooking tent and I drifted into sleep to the sound of their voices.
I woke up very early: I had survived a night on a bare mountain! It was cold inside the tent: I looked outside and it was even colder, and we were in cloud. I laid my fleece on top of the sleeping bag and curled into a ball. I began to see the point of hibernation.
I woke again to the sound of voices: it was about 10am, so I got up and put on all of my clothes. Everything. The cloud was thinner, but it was still too early to tell what the weather would be like. I went to the cooking tent, where Alexander presented me with a very welcome cup of herbal tea. A buffet was laid out on the table: caviar, cream cheese, salmon, sausage and cheese. It was still quite cloudy, so we had plenty of time for a leisurely breakfast: we then packed snacks and refilled water bottles, and made final adjustments to our equipment. Dima proudly wore his mosquito hat, even though there were very few to be seen. Most people were wearing boots like the ones that I had brought with me, so I decided to wear the ones I'd brought rather than my Russian purchases.
It was nearly noon before the guides decided that it would be clear enough to head up to the sources of the 2012 eruption. We started walking up the hill until we came to a path that led between a slag slope and a flow. It is hard to describe the sheer size and strangeness of a lava flow. This one stretched as far as the eye could see. The lava cools as it flows: the surface layer starts to solidify first, but it is stretched into strange shapes by the still-liquid lava moving beneath it. This stretching gives it the brittle consistency of seaside rock- the sort with lettering running through. Near the edge were bulbous clusters like giant cow pats: in other places were rippled bands like the skin on a cup of hot milk. Where it had broken, you could see that it was full of large bubbles- from a centimetre to nearly a metre across. The surface layer was often a metallic blue, but inside it was often a coppery colour.
We are used to thinking of rock as millions of years old, but this flow was produced only six years ago. Fresh rock...
We followed the path over slag and dirty snow, then turned off right over the flow. We soon came to a small crater: the air was definitely warmer in places, with steam rising from cracks. Fron the crater, we walked down into a gulley. For the first time we met another group of visitors. At one end, there was a tunnel that had carried molten lava under the existing layer of flow for about fifty metres. In the gulley were some of the biggest gas-bubble balls: the insides of the broken ones were spiky, like the texture of the inside of a flatbread when you split it open.
We stopped for lunch, and almost immediately it started raining. A small orange mouse appeared: it ran fearlessly from one rucksack to another, looking for food: pretty soon it had received more bread and cheese than it could eat, and been photographed many many times. It was a bit depressing sitting in the rain, so we started moving again: The rain eased off, though we were still in cloud.
We walked across a slag plain scattered with brick-red pinnacles two or three metres high, then started the climb to the second crater. The ground was hot now, mostly brick-red slag, coated with yellow sulphur in places. We were still in cloud, but there were occasional gaps when we could see the crater or the surrounding landscape. We decided to wait and see whether it would clear completely, and were entertained by another begging mouse.
Setting off down the slope, it was now a lot clearer, and I was able to see that we were walking along a narrow ridge, less than a metre wide: on one side was a sheer drop into the crater, and on the other side was a steep slope down the cone of the volcano. I'm scared of heights, and had only managed to get up the ridge because I couldn't see anything in the cloud, but walking down after it had cleared was a pretty scary experience for me. I concentrated on the path, and tried to forget about the drops on either side.
Back on the plain, we decided to go a little further up to the first crater. Initially it was easy going, but after a while the slag got coarser, and there were occasional holes. At one point, a hole opened up beneath Dima's foot: Pavel and Masha stood next to the hole, breaking off the edges with their ski poles. I suggested that they should stop, because looking from the other side I could see that the hole extended beneath them.
I didn't understand most of the ensuing discussion, but eventually something was agreed. Leonid explained that he and Dima were going to continue, but it might be dangerous: I said that I would go too. We found no more big holes, but we did have to cross three crevasses, each about 50cm across and too deep to see the bottom. When we got to the top, the view was pretty spectacular: we could see into the crater, and also the flows stretching out into the surrounding countryside and several other cones. Setting off down, we chose slightly higher route where the three crevasses merged into one: I found a place where there was no crevasse at all, and suggested that it would be easier to cross there. Dima pointed out that the crevasse was probably there underneath: we just couldn't see it. A sobering thought.
We crossed the lava flow and then started down the path: half way down, we met another group of visitors: only the second group in the whole day. A bit further down, we came across a fox: like most of the animals round here, he asked for food. I just hope that bears don't pick up the habit...
Shortly after we got back, Alexander served up some delicious fish soup: he was very pleased when I asked for some more. We then went in the jeep to the base camp to get more water. The spring was a square hole about 1.5m square with a barrel set into the bottom: holes in the side of the barrel allowed it to fill up with water from th surrounding slag. There didn't seem to be much water in the barrel when we started, but it refilled quite quickly, and we soon filled our water containers. Leonid and I walked up a small hill to try to phone home. It was bitterly cold, but the view from the top of the hill was worth the walk. Leonid succeeded in getting a signal but I didn't.: Leonid let me call Irina on his phone and alos sopke to her himself. Appartently he told her that I was "a good man"!
We returned to our camp with the water, and found that Alexander had made fish cakes and salad... he also produced a bottle of vodka, and we all raised our glasses to Kamchatka, its wildlife and a whole lot of other things. Alexander told several stories and Dima gave me a contensed version of most of them. It had been a long day, so I went to bed quite early: the others went to bed soon after. My bedtime routine was much better organized, and I was soon snug in my sleeping bag.
The following morning we got up a bit earlier and had the usual breakfast, followed by porage with fruit: we didn't have to wait too long for the sky to clear because we were heading down the hill today.
We took both jeeps down to the site of the 1975 eruption: two massive cones, and a number of smaller ones. Most people took out ski poles ready for the walk: I have enough problems with ski poles when I'm skiing, so I declined Leonid's offer of a pair. The first section was a gentle slope up the gully where the two cones intersected: this was quite easy, but as soon as we left the gully to start the climb up the first cone, it became a lot harder. Everybody took regular sneaky rests by pretending to stop and admire the view.
Near the top, We had to walk along another narrow ridge round the crater: the sky was clear, so there was nothing to hide the scariness. The ridge widened out at the summit: I breathed a sigh of relief and we all sat down to admire the view. The rocks were all different colours, and most of them were hot: I was worried that my rucksack or its contents would melt.
There was a strong smell of sulphur, and some of the stones has a yellow frosting of it, There were a few holes where hot gas escaped: Leonid had brought a stick about a metre long, and he carefully inserted it into one of the holes, Initially nothing happened, but before long the stick was starting to char, and soon there were flames coming out of the hole. We walked a little further round the ridge: it was still wide, but the drop into the crater was getting steeper, and in places it looked like there was an overhang. I stayed well away from the edge.
We returned to the top, then moved on to a series of ridges maybe ten metres across and five metres deep, with a much wider variety of colours and textures. Half way into the gully, I noticed that Liena was dragging her ski poles by the straps so that she could hold her camera. Suddenly she slipped (or maybe tripped over one of the poles), and she rolled the remaining couple of metres to the bottom of the gully.
One look at the angle of her ankle told me that this wasn't good: Leonid quickly came to the same conclusion. We carefully lifted Liena so that she could sit on a rock, and Leonid started trying to make a splint with ski poles, with limited success. I thought about alternative splints, and offered my foam seat: Leonid agreed that it was a possibility, then tried his foam seat which was much more flexible. Ten minutes later, her ankle was nicely stabilised. It must have hurt like hell, but Liena was very brave. Leonid went off up the hill to try to find somewhere with signal so that he could contact the emergency services. I suddenly realised just how isolated we were, with no mobile phone communications, no way to get a vehicle up here and over a hundred kilometers of off-road an back roads to the nearest medical facility.
Alexander and Dima attempted to support Liena while she hopped on her good leg: This worked going down the path out of the gully, but was less effective when the path started to head upwards again. Dima suggested carrying Liena piggy-back, and this worked much better: he was able to get about a hundred metres over quite difficult terrain. Leonid was back by then, and he and Dima took turns to carry Liena down the hill. I could probably have carried Liena on level ground, but I wasn't sure that I could manage it downhill over rough terrain, and certainly not down the narrow ridge. Instead, I went ahead and cleared stones and other obstacles (including a group of french tourists) out of the way.
I was probably not the only one that was very relieved when we made it back to the safety of the jeeps. We headed back to our camp and started dividing up the equipment and food so that Leonid could take Liena to the hospital, and we would stay with Alexander. After Leonid had left, Alexander served up some very welcome food. We were all pretty shaken by the experience: we soon started on the beer, and then rested for a while.
The sun came out, and my tent quickly warmed up, but the warmth disappeared as soon as the sun was out of sight. Later we walked up to the top of the hill to watch the sunset. The slag was wet and sticky, but climb was not difficult: we soon made the top. The view was impressive- nearly 360 degrees, with a big volcano, the eastern mountain range and a rainbow on one side and forests, lava flows and small cones on the other side.
After the sun had set, we walked down the other side of the hill. It started raining as we neared the base, so we went in to one of the buildings to shelter from the rain. There was a big wood burning stove and it was tempting to stay, but it was getting dark outside. THe rain had eased off, so we decided that it would be best to make a break for it.
Alexander had cooked for us, and there were some more fishcakes left over from yesterday. Another bottle of vodka helped to lighten the mood, with toasts to everything. We had an early start in the morning, so everybody went to bed quite early.
At 7am my alarm went off, and seconds later Alexander called us to breakfast. I came out of my tent to find a beautiful blue sky, and for the first time we had a clear view of the main Tolbachik volcano towering above us. The usual salmon, sausage and cheese, and also some leftovers. The fish soup was popular. It took a couple of hours to pack our stuff, dismantle the tents and then load everything on to the jeep, then we were back on the road. Well, more of a track I suppose... We stopped off at the base again to fill up with water: I don't know why, when we were heading back to civilisation. Maybe Alexander prefers mountain water. This time, the base was alive with Ivrachka, so we spent some time giving them sunflower seeds and pieces of bread.
The detour round the lava flow seemed to take for ever this time, and I dozed off several times: I hoped that Alexander wasn't having the same problems keeping awake. Every so often, Alexander stopped, jumped out and picked a couple of mushrooms from beside the track: before long, he had a nice collection. Finally we reached the road, and made a small detour to a village to buy fuel. There was also a shop that sold ice cream. "Civilisation!" Pavel said. There were cows walking down the street, but to us it seemed like civilisation.
170km to Milkova: I dozed intermittently, and Alexander started on a big bag of sunflower seeds. Take a seed from from the bag, split the hull between the teeth, remove the contents and throw the hull out of the window. I get very frustrated eating sunflower seeds in this way: it seems like a lot of effort for very little return. But in this case Alexander had very little else to do, and it probably helped to keep him awake. When the first car went past in the other direction, he closed the window and started putting the hulls into one of his walking boots.
We made Milkova by 4pm: we had a late lunch at the same cafe as last time, and again the jeep had disappeared when we came out. We walked around a bit. There was practically no litter, and a couple of unoccupied wooden buildings were in a state of genteel decay, rather than showing signs of damage or graffiti. Some kids were playing football on a five-a-side pitch nearby- one team wearing dayglo tabards. Though a long way from anything that I was used to, everything had a comforting air of normality..
Alexander reappeared and we piled into the jeep. As soon as we were under way Alexander got busy with the sunflower seeds to pass the time. A couple of hours later, we turned off the main road and parked outside a place that looked like an amusement park. Everybody else pulled out swimming clothes, so I guessed that hot springs would be involved: I got my stuff out. Surprisingly, entrance was free: you only had to pay to take a car in. We passed two large car parks that were nearly full: people setting out picnics and barbecues in th eearly evening sunlight.
We crossed a bridge over a small river and found several small pools, with people of all ages lazing like seals in the warm water. I quickly changed and followed Alexander into the water, which was shallow and with a very slippery bottom. Dima didn't get in, but advised me to try out the next pool: it was a bit deeper and warmer. There are few better ways of relaxing than a warm bath: a bath this big, where you could stretch out fully, was perfect after our long journey. We couldn't stay long, but half an hour lying in the warm water worked wonders. When we finally got out, Alexander said that I took to the water like a proper Kamchatkan (the Moscow people were not so enthusiastic) and asked when I was going to move to Kamchatka. I replied that I could only live there in July and August- the short summer.
Alexander dropped me off at about 10pm. I was very happy to get out of the clothes that I had been wearing for four days: I took a quick shower then tucked in to a large, meaty meal that Irina had prepared. I showed her my pictures and told her about everything that had happened: she was eager to hear all about it, and asked lots of questions. It wqs hard to believe that so much had taken place in only four days. About midnight I went to bed and enjoyed a long and much-needed sleep.