I don't know how other people plan their journeys but I often start to think about the travel when see the beautiful picture, made at that place. There are lots of accounts in Instagram where people post fantastic photos from the different and amazing parts of the Earth. Thus, I saw the picture of the Karakorum mountains and the Hunza river valley in Pakistan. And started to plan my trip to that place.
Like most of people , born in the USSR, I didn't have the positive perception from Pakistan. My country took a side of India at that time which was in war with Pakistan for hundreds of years and we all imagined that country to be the mainstay of global terrorism and treated to its citizens as to the ruthless thugs. I realized that people who lived there were the same as everywhere but was anxious a little bit.
Usually the acquaintance with the country starts from its airport. But 98% of the plane passengers were the locals and began to watch them in the flight.
Some bearded men looked like Bashi-bazouks. But it was just my impression. I saw how carefully they treated to their relatives and realized that everything would be good. We arrived to Islamabad. I was surprised how polite and friendly the local customs officers were. They didn’t cavil me though I traveled with the weapon.
Only in the mountains I realized that it was not the country which had the problems with tourism as my country had. The car was driving by the picturesque road from Gilgit to the Chinese border and the Hunza river valley and I saw hundreds of small hotels, guest apartments and touristic offices, which showed that the country was popular among the tourists. Almost all people spoke English!
First impressions
The mountain villages in the river valley looked like on posters. Probably thanks to the Islamic traditions they all were ethnic and very clean. People there didn't look like Persians, they had white skin, red or brown hair, every second had green eyes. I didn’t know about other villages but the most part of the population of Gulmit, where we stayed, was Tajiks. They spoke wahi, an ancient Persian language. They didn't profess radical Islam and women weren't’ obliged to walk with covered heads. They communicated with the foreigners, drove the cars and worked in the touristic industry. They all were very friendly especially when I told that I was from Kazakhstan. “Stan” there was a magic word. I think that wahi language was similar to to the language of Targariens. Probably the movie authors found it there. I couldn’t understand a word! But I studies a couple of them: shukari- a hunter, uksh- an Ibex, baff- good, luk- big...
I need to say some words about the structure of the hunting farm or about conservation hunting.
There is no hunting industry as we know it. The huge population of people and a small territory make it impossible. But there are wild animals which have to be protected. Pakistan was among the first countries which took the strategy “Hunting for the protection”.
Prohibited measures didn’t work and the natives were exterminating animals for years. They needed meat for the families, used to hunt from the childhood or had other reason. Nobody could catch them. The animal’s density had fallen down in times. No world community, no the official authorities could do anything. The Government took the unprecedented measures and put up the International Hunting auction the one license for the markhor.
The authority raised about 200K and gave the part of the income to the local community. The mountain part of Pakistan, the Himalayas is the motherland for lots of many small nationalities which peacefully coexist on the rights of limited self-government. The allocation funds to the Elders, leaded the Communities allowed to achieve the impossible to stop poaching!
The peasants realized the value of the animal resources and had chosen roads, new schools, hospitals and other advantages instead of sheep extermination. Thus, the local communities became the outfitters.
Our inspector Kamal Bey, accompanied us on the hunt, has confessed that poaching is still exists in the region. But it happens very rare. People have lots of weapon and there will always be individuals who put themselves above the interests of society. The taken measures gave the result. The density of the markhor population increased from 70 individuals to 2500. It was the same with the Punjab Urials and Sidh Ibexes.
The authorities didn’t forget about the Pakistan hunters, the permits are divided between the natives, country citizens and foreigners. The price depends on the category, the lowest one is for the native hunters. All licenses are without the right to transfer. The outfitters earn money on the service and take part in the auctions. And there is the problem. The limit is approved in a month before the hunting season starts but the auctions are organized in two weeks before the opening of the season. The hunter hazards a lot booking tickets and making all papers beforehand. Moreover, you don’t know how much your outfitter will pay for the license.
Our group, as many others were screwed. Our outfitter was able to buy only 3 licenses in the limits of our budget for four hunters and they all were in different places. Thus, my friend Jordy, a well-known outfitter from Spain, who organized that expedition, abandoned it in my favor but took part in the trip to make movie about our hunting.
Two more Spanish hunters from Madrid met us in Islamabad and we all, accompanied by the local outfitter Razi, flew to Karakorum.
The Gilgit airport is located in the deep gorge. I had never landed in such conditions. About 1,5 km we were flying in the stone tunnel between two rocky mountain ridges.
After the landing I realized that if I came back alive, the trip would be lucky. The views around us were like on the Instagram pictures! I couldn’t but admire by Lombardy poplars, persimmon and quince trees, hung with fruits and watched how sunny rays reflected from the light rock and lighted the valley. I was in the golden kingdom of fall and incomprehensible in his greatness the mountains.
We left Gilgit and drove by the new highway, built by the Chinese. It followed the ancient Silk Way. The road in the valley of the Huanza River is on top in my own rating of world roads. The photographers can understand what I’ve felt seeing the amazing views each hundred meters. I watch pictures which have been done on phone from the car and imbue with the greatness and beauty of these places.
When the phone memory was full you, I began to pay attention to the people's life. The first thing I noticed was the absence of mosques. The most of people in that area are Tadzhiks and they practice Ismaili Islam with the spiritual leader Aga Khan the Fourth. This religious movement has definite features: that doctrine says about the cultural, ethnic and racial diversity, social justice, and so on. People there are very friendly and hospitable. The kunzite, it's the name of the valley inhabitants, are the longest-lived people on the planet. Most of them live to 110 years.
I couldn’t understand how the natives adapted to the life in such severe land. They used quadrillions of stones and built terraces, fences, houses and shed. They are very hard-working people.
Once we invited ourselves over to the weavers and know how they lived. They earned by weaving carpets. The family lived in a stone house with a couple of windows on the roof. They didn't make windows in the walls. One of the windows is a chimney, they heat the houses in the traditional way. The house is divided into two parts for men and women. They eat, what they grew on their own farm. Each family has a kitchen-garden where they grew potatoes, carrots, and other vegetables. Most families have sheep or goats, the rich ones have cows or yaks.
I liked their meal! In every place we stayed for a lunch, all dished were high quality. I tried lots of traditional cuisine but the karakorum cuisine is the best one. It's the mixture of the Indian and Turkish cuisine. All meal is bright but not heavy with the balance of protein and carbohydrates. It doesn't get old you can eat it every day. I ate there so much rice as had never eaten before. A standard meal on the local market for two persons costs one dollar.
We try to hunt.
We arrived to the valley and divided. Brothers Jorge and Israel drove with Razi to the Afghanistan border. Jordy and I and Salvatory stayed in Gulmit. (Salvo was our cameraman).
We all accommodated in a small hotel with all conveniences even including Wi-Fi. The tourist’s season there was from May to September, that’s why we were the only guests and our hosts were happy to help us.
The first day we waited for the permits and the inspector. According the local law all trophy hunts have to be done only with the participation of the official representative of the Wild Life Department. The only useful thing, we did, was the gun testing.
After the lunch the local guys and Kemal Bey ( our inspector) left the village and drove to check the surroundings. They drove back in the evening and told that there was a group of Ibexes just opposite the village. We watched the group through the binoculars and found only young males and told Razi about it. The guides were surprised by our knowledge and skills to define the size of the trophies.
When we had dinner and talked, I had insisted our our participation in the researching expeditions. The local guides had only one Chinese binocular for all and it wasn’t effective way of monitoring. They didn't expect such reaction. It seemed that they thought the hunter had to lay, smoke hookah and did nothing while they’d look for the trophy.
Next morning, we all drove to the hunt on the old off-road car. It wasn’t the difficult process: to stop on the highway from time to time and to spot the nearest slopes. We saw 35 individuals during the morning hours but all of them were females. None of the worthy trophy. We couldn’t but drive back to the camp and discuss it with the outfitter.
Nothing had changed during the evening and the next morning. It had no sense to stay on the place and we moved to the mountains. The climb should take us 4-5 hours to the Sherpa cabin, where we were going to stay and to spot from there. We ascended by the good path though there were some extreme places on it. I was shocked when saw how they did the entrances to the pasture through the rocks. How much labor and dynamite they used to build them?
Our team consisted of me, my Spanish companions, Kemal Bey and the native guys who were porters and guides at the same time.
It was clear for me when we reached the cabin that it was their first climbing. They were in jeans and snickers but not trained to such trip. Finally, I realized that they all were the beginners when saw what they had brought for cooking. It was a huge stove model with 20 L. gas balloon.
It came me to the conclusion that all hunts, organized before, had been done from the highway. If it was so. Kemal Bey confirmed my hunches that it was the first time when the community won the right to organize the hunt. According to the Pakistan laws we shouldn't change the location or to refuse the hunt. You agree with these rules when take part in the auction. What could I do? The right answer was to look for the animal and to hunt! So we went on hunting.
We reached the height 3700 masl and began to spot. There were animals in that area. I accounted several dozens of ibexes in that circus. There were good males but with horns smaller than allowed by the Pakistan rules.
We still had time.
To be continued...
