In 2009, as part of a tourist group, I was lucky enough to visit the amazing valley of the healing springs Shumak. It is located in Buryatia in the Tunkinsky region, behind a mountain pass.
You can get there in three ways: by helicopter (quickly, but very expensive and risky - you can wait five days for summer weather), by horse (you have to look for locals to rent a horse) and on foot (cheap, but very long - three days on stones with a backpack weighing 15 kilograms on the shoulders). We chose the latter.
It so happened that on the third day of the journey I fell behind the group and found myself on the trail alone. In parentheses, I note that the trail is a conventional name for the stones along which tourists walk and on which their footprints and horse hoof prints are clearly visible. The rest of the stones, in many piles around, are much cleaner.
And now twilight has already fallen, all alone I was walking along the path, winding in places, jumping over treacherous mountain streams in places, and then completely descending into the bed of a dried up river. In appearance, it differed only in the roundness of the stones (the water worked hard) and the relative horizontalness of the path. Soon the twilight deepened so that the trail completely disappeared from sight. The footprints of boots and boots on the stones were indistinguishable, and I realized with horror that I would have to spend the night.
The horror was that I had never been alone with nature in my life. It was the first time in the mountains. The situation was aggravated by the coming night and the absence of a tent (the tent was carried by my companions). I panicked for about five minutes.
Then I remembered the stories of mushroom pickers and other travelers lost in the forest and realized that my situation was much better than theirs. You just need to hold out until dawn, when the trail becomes visible. True, it is cold in the mountains at night. So what? I have a sleeping bag and a lighter.
Right in the riverbed, I made a fire, surrounded it with round stones the size of a palm. It became more fun. Light and warmth are great power. The stones heated up, put out the fire and put a sleeping bag on this place.
I found a flask of cognac in my backpack, carefully put by my husband. She spilled the first drops of alcohol on the ground - according to the Buryat custom, took a sip herself and in all seriousness turned to the spirits of the mountains, the river running below, animals and plants. She explained out loud that I was not a local, I didn't know all the intricacies of customs, and I ask you to excuse me for that. Then she made a toast and drank to their health and hers. After that I felt warm, comfortable, and I almost dozed off.
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But suddenly, through the slumber, I saw the light. I took a closer look: a man with a powerful lantern on his forehead was riding a horse. I waved my arms and shone with my stunted flashlight … But behind the roar of the river I could hardly even hear myself, where could he hear me? And then I remembered my childhood, put four fingers in my mouth and whistled. The traveler heard and turned to me (two more spare horses were with him).
Seeing me, the man widened his eyes:
- Where did you come from here?
- Is it far from the base? I asked.
So we talked. In general, I did not reach the base for two kilometers. My rescuer put me on a horse, put my backpack on a second horse and, by the way, said that yesterday a bear was seen in these places …
Already in the morning I asked my comrades why the guide walked at night along such a difficult path? I was told that he was simply too lazy to stop overnight, and he decided to get to the base in one passage, despite the danger of an overnight trip.
But for some reason I did not believe in such a coincidence, and I decided that the guide was sent by the kind spirits of the mountains, with whom I communicated at the forced night halt. Next time I will definitely thank them for their care.
Elena Vyacheslavovna LUZAN, Irkutsk