The only one who can understand a hunter
Who felt the same
When leaving home, full of hope
And miserably coming back
Mountains means much more then we can even imagine and hunting there will be the main priority and passion for each mountain hunter. All the work what we do when we perfect our skills training in shooting galleries, when buy new devices for our carbines. All this preparation is just for the one but the most important shot. The years pass away and only our trophies and yellowed photos will remind our descendants how we’ve hunted and we've left behind.
Introduction
At the end of October Vladimir Smelov and I arrived to Kyrgyzstan. We were going to take the two main trophies in that region: Marco Polo sheep and a trophy of Mid Asian ibex.
The transportation of my heavy bag, filled with lots of equipment, bought for this trip cost me a lot. Though we took sleeping bags and all optics we had as a carry luggage.
In four hours we landed at the Bishkek airport and were delivered by minivan to the custom VIP zone. Our friend, professional hunter and outfitter Sanzhar Miyaev was waiting for us there. That young and energetic guy filled quickly all custom papers and declarations. I didn't take much time to overtake that custom obstacle course and then we loaded all bags into his Land Cruiser and moved to the booked hotel. The plan was to spent one night there and to drive to north of Naryn region in early morning. The ibex had to become the first trophy.
The brightly lit streets of Bishkek were bustling with nightlife. I saw great numbers of old cars from 90s, watched the locals who talked with each other not as I was used to communicate at home, heard loud music from the cars and smelled the burned goal and meat from the local cafe. Bishkek is the embodiment of the local oriental mentality, which are not in a hurry to give a way for European civilization. I respect people who follow for local customs, moreover it makes unforgettable and shining the color of the city!
Our way.
We woke at 4 am and started to load the car. The huge off-road vehicle happened to be too small for everything we had: our personal items and outfitter's equipment. By some miracle we could load all luggage and sat ourselves. Then we drove to the 24-hour grocery store, located in the suburban where bought meal for two weeks ahead.
The way to the first hunting ground took us about 10 hours with all stops.
In 300 km we drove into a aul where took the hunting inspector, his duty was to control and to take part in the hunting process. We parked near the stable, not far from the inspector’s house where the guys, Sanzhar's assistants shod five, not very strong as I thought, horses and led them into the the back of the truck. We had lunch there and then drove six hours more by two cars to the place where we were going to stay for a night. That part of the remote steppe in the river's valley stretched for many kilometers.
It was getting dark and the cold, strong wind blew from the mountains. But temperature was comfortable enough about +5 C degrees. We set tents, had light dinner and went to sleep. Our Kyrgyz guides uploaded and hobbled the horses and left them to graze near the tents. There we found them next morning.
Our team consisted of five men: the professional hunter Sanzhar, his experienced friend with the French name Dushan, Vladimir Smelov, the main Jaeger and I.
After a quick breakfast we collected the camp and loaded it to the “Cruiser”. We thought to arrive the same place in three hunting days and to drive back no matter if the hunt would be successful or not. We packed horses, dressed all equipment we marched in single file for the mountains.
I took the rifle with which I had hunted many times, the carbine HS Precision cart .338 LM and optics NF 5.5-22х56. It was heavy but I was really satisfied by results of its work in the mountains of Kazakhstan and Tajikistan.
The sun shined brightly and weather was fine. In a couple of miles, the road began to climb sharply. We made our way through the gorges, covered in snow which was up to the horse's rumps. We did our best but some of us had fallen down when we were turning but we still went on to move up.
The height rose from 3500 masl (where we spent the night) to 4100m. I felt the lack of oxygen and could hardly took breath. The cold and the strong wind add lyrics to the situation. The plan was to overcome two ridges and two gorges and then arrive to the hunting ground.
We monitored the surroundings while riding in hope to detect ibexes while it was light. But all our efforts were in vain: we didn't see any. Sanzhar assured us that we did it on purpose and it worth to go to that remote area. Last year the hunter from Czech Republic got two ibexes with 130cm and 135cm each there. That area was very perspective for good quality trophies.
After a while, we came to the foot of the ridge and stood up. The horses began to settle on trembling hind legs, and no power could make them to climb. While Vladimir and I were dismounting Sanzhar and Dushan had already reached the top. They went first The huntsman was beating his horse with a whip and tried to get it to stand up but without any result. He had nothing to do but to take horses by the bridle, knit the reins to the saddles and to pull them up. Vladimir and I start climbing, there were about 300 vertical meters left to the top. We made stops each 40-50 meters to have reached and to breath but could ascend to the top where the other guys and horses waited for us.
The most beautiful panorama of the Tien Shan Mountains opened up to our eye. The snow-covered gorges pierced mountains like veins and we couldn’t see their end.
The sun was sinking inexorably. We began to go down to the valley making the stops on the small plateaus from time to time to overlook the surroundings. The lower we went down, the higher the temperature rose. It became hot soon.
We were riding for about six hours and had to ride as much more while we’d reach the lower camp.
It was the late evening when our barely alive cavalcade came to the abandoned barn. I was all for to make a stop there. And was really happy when saw that the guides settle there.
That was the final destination!
The Kyrgyz accommodated in the barn while Vladimir and I set the tent. We had dinner and went to bed. Next day we should move to the mountains.
Good morning!
The morning shocked us. A wind, we felt in the mountains last day, carried snow which covered the valley while we were sleeping. We dug up the exit and ran to the barn to warm near the fire. The valley was covered by thick fog. The huntsman said that such weather change was dangerous and there was nothing to think about hunting at that day. We needed to decide how to return to the camp without loss. We left the cars beyond the three ridges from us. There were two ways how to go to the cars. The first one was to ride about 50 km along the valley to the nearest village or to return by the same way through the ridges as we went before.
We had to choose as soon as possible to survive. After a long dispute the Jaeger took the crazy decision, as we thought, to go back by same shortest way as we went a day yesterday. It was not an easy matter to leave the snow-covered valley and to rise the mountains. We all prepared to the worst and moved forward.
Strong wind and snow seriously delayed the ascent. The horses began to slow down when we just started climbing. They were snoring heavily and stumbled when falling through the deep snow or sliding of the ice-covered rocks but went on moving from the one gorge to another. We tried to keep rein in a balance when the lathered animals rolled over on their sides but not effective. We climbed the rocks as we could: some of us rode, the rest of the group led the horses by the reins, who had the strength for what. At last we reached the pass on the height 4000 masl and made a stop to drink tea and to have a snack. We had been riding for five hours already and had to cross two more passes.
Suddenly Sanzhar stopped our truck and pointed for something forward us. I snatched the binoculars and spotted the herd of ibexes, about 10 animals. All of them were males. One of them was really good. Its horn length was not less than 120cm. They stood in 540 m from us but the wind with snow and fog didn’t allow as to approach. Sanzhar spitted, turned his horse to the left and started to climb once again. Turn by turn we came closer to our salvation.
We were climbing in line when I took the horse's bridle abruptly, it frightened, bucked and threw me forward. I flew it over, but happened to cling to the reins and hang over the precipice. In a minute I felt the blood flew down my arms. I tried to climb up and threw my left leg under the horse. The horse tried to help me and threw its head back and put the hind hoof on my ankle. The horseshoe bit into the flesh and I felt the animal's weight. I was lucky that it didn't break the leg. The guides ran to me and helped.
Six hours later, after all those ascends and descends, deadly tired and cursing the inspector we entered the valley where left our cars. Thus our ibex hunting, when we struggled for our life, ended.
Driving back to Naryn I realized how less we need to be happy.
The expedition #2
We resolved not to leave it too long and drove to the second expedition. Our way laid through the Naryn region to At Bashi district, to Aksay valley, located on the east near Kontur village, close to the Chinese border. The main sightseeing there was the Issyk-Kul Lake, located on the north and surrounded by mountain ridges of TianShan. The highest mountain peaks Khan Tengri (7,010 m) and Victory Peak (7,439 m) are also located there. We were going to hunt the main trophy of these places is the argali Marco Polo. And got the ibex if it was possible. The average size of Marco Polo horns is about 125 cm but Aksay region is know by its trophies, taken there each year, with horns 140 -150 cm. It’s not easy to get such worthy trophy. The value of such trophy is very high. The Base camp, where we were moving, was located on the height 3300 masl. But hunting is organized on the heights from 3800 to 4500 m.
There were lots of adventures before that expedition. We drove about 200 km from Naryn to the East and visited one more aul to take the huntsman. Then we drove off-road by wide valley, framed by mountains massives, directly to the Aksay region. At night we arrived to the border guard post. They checked our weapon and ammunition and soon we went on our way, driving fast and faster by the snow-covered road.
The “Land Cruiser’ struggled through the snowy desert at night, its headlights shining on the way. The strong wind with the snow blew and we felt as if happened to be in the biggest barrel in the world. After the midnight we saw the camp and breathed a sigh of relief. It consisted of four separate cabins where we can have rest, sleep, take a shower and to eat. There were a yurt near the cabin, a stable for horses and a shed for equipment.
We got acquaintance with the chief of the Base Talay and other guides. Then uploaded the equipment and go to beds.
We see sheep!
Next morning met us by fine weather. There was no wind and the sun shined brightly. The temperature was -19C. Thin air made us feel cheerful. We even didn’t left the camp when noticed groups of sheep, pastured in two km from us. They were females and young animals. The groups of 30-50 individuals walked around the base camp on the dry mountain plateaus covered by pieces of snow. What's going on up there?! At the end of October the males begin to blend with the females groups to mate and it's possible to find a good one there at a rut season.
After a tasty breakfast from bacon and eggs and strong tea the team began to preparation for a hunting. Sanzhar and Dushan went to saddle the horses while Vladimir and I checked the rifle after our last night drifts. I’d changed my clothes to the mountain one, gathered all necessary equipment, got the scope, the carbine and ammunition and went out.
Taalay showed me the target where I could test the rifle. It was nailed on a wooden board, put in 100 m from us. I laid down on the soft mat, put the carbine on the pods, took a cartridge and got the aim in the crosshairs. At first the carbine was shot on 300 m with the heavy (19.5 gr) Scenar bullet. It has the best ballistic characteristics and is not so susceptible to wind drift when fired from a long distance. All three bullets went one for each other to the target with minimum distance gap. The gun testing on the highlands didn’t show significant deviations from the initial parameters. It couldn’t but rejoice.
In an hour we were ready for hunting. Our group of four riders, led by Sanzhar packed all equipment, tents and meal for a one day, left the camp. We moved by the ice-covered river valley to the mountains on the south. The horses swayed slowly and trudged along behind each other, making a furrow in the snow-covered ground.
Our goal was to get the trophy of Marco Polo. We did our best and used all knowledge and hunting skills while examining the territory to find the sheep. Moving by zigzags and urging the horses we climbed the mountains. There was no vegetation at all, only some withered dead wood stuck out here and there. Bright orange peaks with pieces of gray snow were our picture of life, the only we could see there. We were not going to look for a trophy there. The task was to reach the mountain plateau and to detect the sheep there on one of the saddle ridge. They are used to graze or to have a rest there under the scorching sun.
We went about 5km and climbed 3800 m. Sanzhar rode ahead of us from time to time, galloped the plateau and stopped near the cliff, monitoring the slopes through the binocular. Then we started to join him because that three pairs of eyes could see more and we tried to help the experienced hunter. But were not lucky. Everything seemed empty, we couldn't even notice the scavengers -white-headed vultures.
Then we rode two more km and spotted the first sheep group. They stood on the rocky ledge in 1200m from us. We dismounted, moved closer to the ledge and looked out from top to bottom. Unfortunately, there was not a worth trophy in that group. Two groups of young males pastures in the gorge.
I got my Kestrel. The wind blew with gulps and changed the destination to 360o with the speed 10-20 m\sec. The distance to the sheep was about 650 m. I began to dream how I’d shoot but suddenly they jumped up. They grouped together and ran up the mountain, pushing off with the hind legs from the hard stony ground. Probably they felt us when the wind changed the direction.
The rest of the day we examined and checked each meter of that territory. We rose the tops where the frost wind blew about us and descended to the valley where the sun burned mercilessly but were not tired to look for the trophy. Each time we hoped to find it just behind the next ridge. We paid attention to every top and every valley but without any result. Once we watched the group of ibexes. They were in five km from us but couldn't detect the trophy size male there. We took a note this group and hoped to to take revenge next time.
The evening came and then the beautiful moonlight night. We decided to cut the road to the base and to cross the pass through the glacier but forgot that had to do it in the dark. The way took us three hours but we didn't expect that it would be so hard. The horses were deadly tired, they stumbled and slide on ice. Half of the way we rode, then dismounted and walked, pulling poor horsed by the reins. At last, we reached the plateau and after two more hours horse ride arrived directly to the cabins. Taalay cooked tasty dinner: lagman and roast lamb ribs with beer, were what we could dream about after a long day. The stories about our hunting adventures changed by the deep sleep.
