Winter trip to Kyrgyzstan

Giant mountains, vodka, chai and a German-Swiss connection in search of foreign cultures, adventure and powder lines in Kyrgyzstan.

What are your first ideas or thoughts after the trip, dear colleagues?

The answers:

• Damn high mountains

• High altitude air makes you pant like a mutt

• Corrupt police

• Vodka

• Karakol's endless Vastness

• Lakes

• Mountains

• Yurts

• Fur Hats

• Horny Muddies

• Magic Mountains

• Lagman

• Potential and Endless Projects

• Four Tough Guys

Then the time had finally come: part of the crew travelled from Germany via Istanbul to Bishkek two days beforehand to take care of all the organizational stuff (accommodation, transport...) and to get a first impression. The other part came from Davos via Zurich and Istanbul to Bishkek. The journey to Zurich was already under a good Kyrgyz star and the common Kyrgyz would have been proud of us. A good liter of Siberian vodka from our Innsbruck colleague and two liters of beer gave us a taste of what a typical Kyrgyz evening feast is like. Accordingly, we set off for the airport in the morning, plagued by sweats and plumes of alcohol. The journey could begin, we had already left anyway. Oh well, with two ski bags weighing over 40 kilos each, the issue of excess baggage could still get exciting. However, I can only say that Turkish Airlines are extremely accommodating! I have never had such a good airline in terms of friendliness, goodwill, food, service and even top aircraft. And we really hadn't booked First Class, but our tickets cost a comparatively low 400 euros.

On arrival in Bishkek at six o'clock in the morning, we first went to see our colleagues in the hotel. One of us was at least able to move around and eat some solid food, while the other indulged in a bit of comatose sleep. After we had also had a short siesta, we set off to explore the city and taste the food. We quickly realized what the police meant here. We were strolling around when we were asked by "policemen" to undergo an alcohol check. Of course, one or two of us still had plenty of gas and a slight smell. This should mean being taken to the police station for a blood test, vegetating in a cell, everything you wouldn't want in a country like this. After heated discussions with hands and feet and phone calls with very ominous police colleagues, it was clear to us that they simply wanted to see money. But we persisted and after thirty minutes of heated discussion they let us go. We hadn't paid anything, we had our ID cards back (tip: only ever take copies!) and had already had a small taste of everyday life. So, either a "little something" or wild and time-consuming discussions. Well, in any case, we had come into the world, or rather arrived in Kyrgyzstan, and knew that where the grease appeared, we would leave quickly. We spent the rest of the day at the Osh market in some meat halls with animal body parts I'd never seen before and pointing randomly at the menu card, curious to see what would be brought. This trick always works and we were almost never disappointed. The next day was another classic in terms of adventure. The driver who was to take us to Karakol came with a kind of minivan and roof rack. To lash the ski bags to the roof, the good man came with a strip of woolen blanket, which could only tear immediately. When he then started to knot the two parts together again, we preferred our glacier rope. However, strange noises were already noticeable as we were tying it up, and these were to accompany us for a short section of the trip. Okay, everything was ready and we were ready to set off, 450 kilometers to the east, past Yssykköl, the second largest mountain lake in the world after Lake Titicaca. The road got worse and the noises from the roof louder. We were glad when the driver stopped to relieve himself and we were able to check the situation on the roof. In fact, nothing of the roof rack was where it was supposed to be or where the attachment points were. That wasn't surprising, because he hadn't found any suitable carriers and had simply placed these carriers more or less on the roof and that with four ski bags of 40 kilos each "chunnt gar net guat". True to the motto: fastening by its own weight. We didn't want to continue with this attempt and so we decided to take all the stuff with us in the space miracle. The remaining 400 kilometers were cramped and dislocated, but the bags were safe. What else we learned on the trip?

Removing license plates, honking three times at police checkpoints, kicking down and driving past at full throttle, waving in a friendly manner and simply not caring any more. After a few communication difficulties, we finally found our room, enjoyed the end-of-day vodka in one of the "famous" karaoke bars and were all more than excited about the day ahead. Finally, the golden white under the boards again.

The first closer observations confirmed our fears: there was simply not much snow. The reason for this was that it was still quite early in the year and the winter had very little snow. However, we were keen on the mountains and confident that we would find something suitable. After a bit of cruising around the area, we had found our base. This was to keep us entertained for the next few days, all virgin, north-facing and gully-like. With ascents of between thirty minutes and an hour and a half, we were there. The first ascent was simply fantastic. We were just still very skeptical about the combination of slope inclination and snow, as there was virtually no connection or snowpack structure as we saw it. What was there was fluffy and light. After the first few runs, however, our skepticism was dispelled and we let the dust blow around our ears.

Everyone was happy and so we were able to celebrate the day with a big grin, delicious food and a beer. A few words about the food: it's rather difficult for vegetarians, here meat is munched with commitment and motivation, in all possible and impossible forms, but above all in abundance. We often just leafed through the menu at random, placed everything in the middle and then chowed down like world champions. Maybe pay attention to the waiter's facial expression from time to time, for example when you order three bottles of cola as a main course. The next few days remained sporty and more or less the same. Why should you change a good thing? Except that we made a very nice connection with Karakol Coffee. The super friendly young couple not only helped us plan the rest of the trip, but also made the best coffee. I'm talking about real coffee from an Italian piston machine, not granulated or colored water as is usually the case. They are pioneers in terms of coffee and style in Kyrgyzstan and deserve all the support they can get. If you are in Karakol, head to Karakol Coffee (specialty Flämmli with greetings from the German-Swiss connection). After numerous runs on our beloved Face, we used the free time for avalanche search exercises and watching breakneck vodka ski acrobatics with strong influences from floor gymnastics.

The hostel

There was a lot of coming and going, especially coming was probably a central theme there. It was cheap, I'm talking about the room (3 euros per person) and especially at later hours there was a hustle and bustle like at a funfair. like a hotel by the hour, the "hotel staff" could be booked in addition.

On the street

When it gets dark, it's best not to spend time on the streets. It's a shame, but alcohol (in such large quantities) makes some people unpredictable and aggressive. If you take this into account, it remains a very unpleasant situation, but in no way affects an absolutely brilliant trip. After a few days, we had completed all the projects we could under the given circumstances. We spent the last evening with Akerim and Daniel from Karakol Coffee, first with a nice dinner, followed by a hearty vodka tasting with a great dance session at Karakol Coffee.

The bus drums and weather forecasts predicted fresh snow, so off we went. The 450-kilometre journey was again exciting and cramped, but we already had postural problems due to a completely overloaded minivan. When we arrived at our next base, our jaws dropped a notch. Snow? Absolutely no snow. The fact that they were still operating the lift was almost a miracle - or ignorance. We all realized what nobody dared to say. We are chasing something that simply doesn't exist at the moment: Snow. We weighed up all the pros and cons and played through all the scenarios. Over a shashlik session and an after-work beer, we decided with a heavy heart to end the trip early. But not just like that, of course! A two-day stopover in Istanbul was supposed to be balm for the wounds. As the plane left early in the morning, we spent a wonderfully romantic night (comment from a fellow traveler: that was awesome :-)) at Bishkek airport with the security staff and lots of beer. The trip was different from what we had imagined. Whether it was the lack of snow, the difficult communication, all the vodka, the Lagman or whatever. If you go skiing in a country like this, you want more than just powder snow and sick lines. The mountains, the people and the culture give you more than you can get from any "sick line". So less appearance, more being. If you go for it, you'll be covering a great country and projects until the next ice age. Besides, what could be better than experiencing something so impressive with friends? I'd do it again in a heartbeat...