16. Klyuchi, the once forbidden town, delivers 'exotic' variety!
"Kamchatka Peninsula" by Bike and Kayak
Sat 4 Aug 2012 03:59
I have found, awaking in Siberia, or at least the Kamchatka peninsula, quite a unfamiliar challenge: Go to bed, with clear skies, beautiful sunset, and wake with coolish temperature, fog so thick one can cut it with a knife, and not a breath of wind. The humidity is at 100% and being continually topped up, making everything damp, and the tent flysheet as wet as if it had rained heavily. Visibility is barely a hundred metres, and from the cosyiness of my sleeping bag, view through the crack in my tent flap door, makes the day's planned 7am start seem masochistic and very unromantic....! What's the rush, is a very valid question?
There is something in the value of the discipline of routine and commitment, but on the other side, total self sufficiency and freedom of choice is the counterweight sometimes confusing the equation! Unlike extreme polar expeditions, here the focus on the day's distance or endpoint goal is less important, the only goal is maximum embracement of the holistic journey...there is lots of choice, and that is both liberating and confusing, one has to know oneself, and the root of personal height!
I decide cycling while its cooler is a good strategy, and a few weeks of history says the fog doesn't lift for quite a few hours! Back to that bone jarring road, but only about 30 kilometres to Klyuchi...Is that 1 hour or 3 hours, I have no idea, but sense it's closer to 3 than 1! I cross two surprise, fast flowing rivers coming down from the volcanoes, and briefly question my decision to have turned off yesterday, but the whole experience reminds me of the importance of the journey rather than the endpoint. Two further reminders of this point: I come across two memorial stones for youngish people killed in car accidents on the road....Clearly a treacherous section. The one had the steering wheel as the 'headstone', the other the car's grille as the foundation piece, but poignant reminders of the fragility of our lives, and the importance of living them to the full, while we still can! The other touching piece was the most special marriage bridge lock I'd seen so far... This being a tradition, where large, ornate locks, with the marriage partner names and wedding date engraved on the lock, are locked to the hand railings of bridges crossing rivers. A sign of permanent bridging or coming together, and this particular lock was a large red heart shaped one, with the details all embossed in white lettering...A memory of two peoples' special life changing day, and a decision to love and share forever. Simple and pure in thought, the challenge being in keeping the bridge intact, floods, volcano eruptions, or whatever..A worthy goal, but maybe needing a sizeable lock!
One kilometre before the sign to Klyuchi I hit some unsuspected soft sand, the bike slays, wobbles and I go down, feet clipped in, bike on top of me like a real first timer...I can only laugh at myself, as there is nobody else in sight. This was the start of a horrendous last 4km. The sign said 1km, but either I missed the main route into Klyuchi, or the sign is wrong. What followed was a steepish uphill, pitch black volcanic rock road, that varied between fine black sand, and the worst corrugations to date. Demoralizing stuff, but knowing the 'metropolis' of Klyuchi were nearby, made it tolerable.
I finally make it down to Klyuchi's Lenin square, and am surprised about the size of the place, and level of working infrastructure. The main road is asphalt, quite a few cars around, and lots of general store options, but no obvious accommodation, and no obvious tourists, like myself. I cycle the length of the town, stopping for exploring and photos, taking a chance at a private home that maybe a guest house? No, but the woman gets her daughter too direct me to a house just down the street...hey my luck is running well! No answer to a knock on the door, so try the back and there she is, hunched over, working in her vegetable garden. Maybe agitated that I'd come in through the back route, she didn't look happy to see me, told me she had no accommodation, and almost chased me off the premises when I asked if she knew of anywhere else! Oh well, don't take it personally, I tried, time for next initiative!
I head back to Lenin square, sit on a seat below his stature, that was to become mine for the next two days. From this seat I could be part of the town and see how it works. The buses passing through stopped here, people bought tickets, and generally it was a focal point of the town. With my touring bike next to me, and my clear adventure look, I was also the 'exotic' focal point of the visitors to the square. This mid thirties guy from Ust Kamchatsk befriended me, he could speak a few English words, so we hit it off well. I think he was needing a break from his wife and kids, so was enjoying the unexpected diversity of our interaction. Once again bears came up, and he was once again astonished with my travels and no weapon approach. Anyway, he knew of the only hotel in Klyuchi, hidden away, so he kindly led me their in his car, me following on the bike. Gee, I'd never have found it and the last thing it looked like from the outside was a hotel! Reception was unattended and locked, so I bade him thanks and farewell, and proceeded to wait until someone arrived. Half an hour later middle age guy arrives, but he tells me they have 6 rooms, all taken. Hmm, I pester him for help, he tells me wait outside, he just needs to make some phone calls. A well presented middle age woman arrives, clearly hotel management, and the two chat outside puffing on cigarettes. I make sure I've got my case across to her, and she seems keen to help, but soon leaves, the guy to find a solution. Inside the office on the wall is the first proper map I've seen of Klyuchevskoy park and the trails. It looks like park issue, but when I ask the guy where I can get one from, he just indicates that I should take a photo, as that's the only one they have and he doesn't know where you can get them from. He tells me there is no park office in Klyuchi it all happens in Kozyrevsk...exactly opposite of what they told me in Kozyrevsk. They don't make it easy hey..?
He finally asks for my passport to start the hotel registration process, and expectantly I ask whether he has a room and how much. He affirms he does, tells me it's 1500 rubles, and completes the registration, and takes my cash. Hey, this is all good news... It's never that easy! He leads me to the room, opens the door, and almost as a surprise to him is an occupied room with someone's gear all laid out....he's not checking out soon. With surprise inn his voice thee receptionist indicates I'll have to share! No ways, no sharing for me, I'll rather tent out on my own. I sensed him and the woman had perceived I was desperate and they could make a few extra bucks off that. The process was too contrived and pressured to be otherwise. The joys and challenges off a wanderer. The importance of a tent solution to avoid compromises of the soul!
Back to Lenin square, get some food and juice from the one magazyn, and then park myself down next to this guy in his cashier booth, complete with bed inside...He sells microbus, bus tickets, and before starting my lunch I ask him about accommodation. An elderly guy, not well off, and he had understanding and empathy written all over his face. He pointed to the hotel, but I told him the story. He scratched his head taking on my problem, and I decide to just enjoy the lunch focal point experience, while he racked his brain. He eventually came out of his hut, said he knew of no other options, but suggested I go down to where the ferry across the Kamchatka River leaves from...and it leaves at 16h00. I thank him, finish lunch and head down to the industrial timber yard which is also the ferry ramp. (One has to take the ferry across the river to connect to the 150km road that leads to Ust Kamchatsk...my next destination and endpoint for this peninsula expedition. That was in a few days still, I had an immediate issue...A safe, secure, and restful place to stay overnight! I After looking around the whole timber yard area I find a perfect spot with a small open area for my tent, the rest hidden by long grass, and all with 'doorstep' river access. Just nearby an offcuts log pile where I can store my bike, hidden from public view. I set up my tent to claim the spot, foregoing the flysheet in the hope that nobody will steal my tent without it...That's the theory anyway! This is squatters stuff, but it all feels good and exciting, and I can now properly relax and get into life in Klyuchi!
Back to Lenin square by bike, and soon after I'm back in my claimed seat under his watchful stare, the bus from Kozyrevsk arrives, full of people. They all pile out and crowd around me with obvious intrigue and interest. A group of 4 climbers and a guide with heavily loaded packs attract my interest. They are going to walk from Lenin square to the top of Mt Klyuchevskoy. The one guy is a chemist from Moscow, and his English is very good, so I get a lot of info on the climb. He wants to know all about my adventure life, and clearly inspired he shares the stories with his climbing mates. The guide looks very serious, and while clearly interested is very stand offish, as he loses his pull with his clients, and worse to an older man. I sensed he was a few years younger than me, and in finally confirming my assessment of the situation, he just asked me one question: How old was I? When I told him he put out a warm handshake, and with respect on his face he said the equivalent of 'Well done' in Russian. They wanted group photos and it was all good fun, with Lenin being the subject of some of it. Bears came up again, and these guys were yet again astonished at my low level of protection and courage to do this alone. I was quite envious of their mountain climbing expedition, but as I looked at their 'mission specific' gear I realised it's about choice, focus and the degree of specialisation. With my generalist mountain gear, I had no hope of reaching Klyuchevskoy peak unassisted. It's just about perspectives, hey!
The bus was soon loaded up and off to the ferry. I'd decided that I'd leave on the next day's 4pm ferry. I'd give my kidneys a break from the roads, try and explore ways to experience the park, and enjoy what Klyuchi had to offer on peak season Saturday night!
I find there is something special about being a foreign observer in a unusual place, and having the time to just observe and selectively connect as a day in the life of the village unfolds. There were times when it was totally deserted, other times a buzz with action, but never stationary always moving.
I found out that there was a café / bar / restaurant just opposite Lenin square that opened at 9pm that night. As late as that was I had to try it out, and see what was on offer. Well after a short nap at my riverside home, I pulled into the café at 9 15pm, and not a single customer. Two middle aged ladies, clearly dressed for 'the night' welcomed me in with smiles on their faces, maybe a surprise was in store! Inside the place was like a 1970's disco, turning silver ball reflecting the multi beam coloured lighting streams, and English songs music beating away. Almost through a nice draft beer 4 other guys arrive, and the one can speak a little English, and after a short exchange immediately buys me a 'welcome to Russia' beer. Turns out he is a scientist doing topographical work on assignment to Kamchatka. Another group of 4 more ruffian looking guys arrive. I wonder where the woman are, or are the ladies working here, multi 'duty'? The whole atmosphere is quite interestingly, engaging, and I have some 'plate of the day' stew, feeling quite privileged to be experiencing all this foreign-ness.
Things seem to level off then with warm good-byes, the two groups go, and I'm alone again the waitresses / hostesses try further conversation with me, but our limited vocabularies become an insurmountable barrier.
I decide to head back to my tent, with lots of questions about life in Klyuchi and what I'm missing?
It's a perfect night, so no need to do all the 'bells and whistles' for the flysheet, it's only needed for the dreaded early morning, fog associated heavy dew. I hide my bike, slip into my tent, and soon into dream world...
Around 3am I am woken by the sound of heavy beat music, and realise it's coming from 'my cafe'... It must have transformed itself, or was it music like pealing bells, desperately calling any patrons in? I was tempted to return to see what the answer is, but somehow the expectation of a disappointment turned off the thought I do sense the place was more than a café though, those two women were very focused at what they did, whatever that was...I just wasn't in their customer target market.
Well Sunday morning in my seat on Lenin square was filled with zero expectation other than me catching up on these diary entries, and not missing the ferry at 4pm. An easy day, that went by in a very relaxed way. Two main 'events': The first being that the bus to Kozyrevsk returned 2 yours after departing, being towed by a truck, and with desperately hot and irritable passengers onboard. With the engine failure the air conditioning had gone, and with sealed windows it must have been terrible inside. They were told there would be no bus again today, and with some being 'out of towners', without tents, I wondered where they would stay the night!
The second event was the 1pm opening of 'the' café. An attractive new woman was on duty today, and after the initial unfriendly welcome, she warmed to me, and as the only customer she joined me at my table for a long chat....All about her life and family. She was divorced with a 15 year old son... Difficult again as her English was as bad as my Russian. Hmmm, it was nice to have playful female company again....Gee, I've missed that!
I was quite apprehensive about the isolated 154 km of road ahead after the ferry. Everyone had warned me that there are lots of big grizzlies on the way, and my map showed only few rivers so water maybe a problem. 154 km on a good asphalt road is no sweat, but from the range off road surfaces I'd experienced so far, what lay ahead. This could be the difference between a 1 day or 3 day trip. There would be very little traffic along the road, basically the ferry drives the number and time of travel of cars, and it only takes maybe 10 cars a time, and runs 5 times in 24hours. So once the cars have passed me I'm really on my own. From the contour map it seemed pretty flat for about 90 of the kilometres, with the rest being mountain passes as the road wended its way between volcanic ranges All the unknowns, and then alone, the stuff of a real real adventure. I also think knowing I'd got this far without any major mishaps, and this was the last leg of a potentially successful expedition added to the anxiety. What also never helps is locals coming up to me and saying they think I'm crazy doing it on your own with bears around... Anyway, by the time 4pm came I had the all too well known cocktail of excitement and apprehension running through my body, and every fuel storage cell in my body felt filled to the brim from my final Lenin square binge! I was ready to blast away....
Continued on next post....