2. First bears, lots of salmon, and a huge party
"Kamchatka Peninsula" by Bike and Kayak
Sat 18 Aug 2012 06:22
I woke around 6h30, coolish morning, good for cycling, but first back to 'the hotbox ladies' for breakfast! They couldn't believe I was still there, and then another five dough pies, I should have asked about their frequent buyer deals!
15km from Sokoch the road forks, the more busy, and main road, veers right to start its path North to the familiar Milkovo, but this time I would be taking the secondary road to the left heading towards the west coast, Ust Bosversky and the Sea Okhotsk.
I felt pretty excited, but also a bit apprehensive as I saw the unknown dirt road ahead, and was the only road user turning off in that direction.
The road surface was surprisingly good to start, and with road paralleling the significant GGGGGG River, and it's elevated position, regularly providing impressive river views to the left, it felt like I was in a new world.
I cam across this strange scene of a 4X4 van sitting unattended on two jacks, with it's engine running. It clearly had two tyres punctured, but where the owner / occupants were was a mystery. Two sets of shoes lay next to the vehicle waiting their owners return, but why they didn't need their shoes, or changed into others was a mystery! I sniffed around, wondering whether the occupants were asleep inside, but no, nobody to be found, and no hint of their imminent return..! Two tyres clearly slashed by sharp protruding rocks, didn't bode well for the road ahead, from where they had come.
The road conditions rapidly deteriorated, with heavy corrugations, the wind having veered to follow the valley, so still almost headwind and a surprisingly heavy, counter traffic flows making cycling conditions, dusty, bumpy, and generally challenging.
At what looked like an access spot to the river I stopped for fresh water refill. Leaving the bike, as I got down to the long grass at the river, my mind turned to the thought of bears, and my need to be alert, and there to my startled amazement, right across the river was a mother grizzly and her three second season cubs....Fantastic, my first real wild, natural bears! I spent a while watching them, initially as the mother ventured into the river, I feared she was crossing to my side, but no, a quick fishing mission delivered almost instant success and she went back to the river bank to share the meal with her, still dependant cubs. This was all very special for me, as I followed them as they surprisingly quickly traversed upstream along the opposite river bank. They never saw me, and seemed very carefree, self involved as a family unit, and wild. I felt so alive, and connected, this is what I was hoping for....and it's already begun.
Ten kilometres or so on, I come across a single dwelling , that duals as a magazyn, and decide to stop and find out more? Traditional woman proprietor, two aggressive, but thankfully chained up, 'guard dogs', can't wait to get hold of me, but inside her shop the atmosphere is warm and friendly. As my 'ticket to conversation', I buy some unneeded juice, and go outside to sit in the sun. She comes out with a bowl of freshly picked raspberries, sits next to me offers me some, and we begin 'chatting' in m7 now well versed combination of English, bastardised Russian, Spanish, sign language and pen and paper pictorial. Nice caring woman, really interested in my journeys, and me in her pursuit of a seemingly inappropriately isolated 'magazyn' business pursuits. It came down to wanting to be away from the towns, yet still having income. With it almost the heart of berry season, the raspberries were delicious, but it was soon time to say good bye and move on..
Another 35 kilometres of bone jarring road, that had now diverged from the river, I came to the small village of Apayee. It looked like worse than the usual derelict village, with the single 'magazyn' being an unlikely blue house with a very I discrete, unsigned', normal hours front door entrance. Inside the store was well stocked, and for me it was a great time for lunch, without having to dig into my 'onboard' food stores. In my best Russian I asked for a cup of coffee, with milk, a loaf of bread, a portion of cheese, and a tin of fish. I got the lot first time, and I sensed the proprietor warmed to my interesting, and polite foreign-ness. I set up a roadside lunch at the single, purpose built table and bench, complete with overflowing trash bin, and surrounded by stagnant mud pools, next to the main truck parking area. I thought about the bears and the serenity of the river I had experience earlier, and how opposite on the scale this was, but the value balance was about to be restored.
With a break in her rest stop, motorist clients, the proprietor came out to me to chat and present me with a container full of frozen salmon roe...Kamchatka caviar! She goes to great lengths to explain they are frozen and I must leave them outside and wait to defrost. (At the time, this salmon roe seemed like a present of gold, but later I realised they were like left over garbage, and so they were not eaten and I dumped them in the river. See later below!)
She is fascinated by my story, but also concludes a sense of vulnerability in my endeavors, and has this desire to 'look after' me! Next up she comes back from her shop with a plate of what look like meat dumplings in a hearty looking gravy. I can see they are special to her as she dishes on out onto my plate, explaining in sign language that they are made from antelope meat.
I go back inside with my large mug for a real size coffee and she obliges saying it's for free. I go back outside and her dog is at my lunch table, sniffing around, having already chosen the prize venison meat ball, and about to start on my cheese. She hears the commotion, comes running out, sees the problem, reprimands the dog, goes back in an comes back and all apologetically tops me up with her last remaining venison ball. Eventually, a delicious lunch in peace, and this whole derelict, seemingly unsoulful rest stop was new, and deeper meaning to me.
It was time to hit the realities of the corrugations and dust of the road again...
River crossings every now and again and the great tundra scenery gave welcome relief from the worst dust cloud conditions I'd experienced. The road was surprisingly busy, I later found out it was people from Petropavlosk Kamchatka taking a weekend salmon fishing break, and I was about to immerse myself right into the salmon fishing culture...
Often along the road I'd bump into groups of two or three people armed with buckets, scouring the tundra for blue berries and mushrooms. There were lots of different berry types around, and from the river bridges I could see the salmon fighting to go upstream in the clear waters. Gee, with salmon, berries and tundra around, I sensed I was getting closer to the heart of 'bear land' and the potential for 'intimate' experiences were now real.
Approaching the end of another 90+ km cycling day, I crossed the large expanse of the GGGGGGG river bridge, and knew the town of Karmae was a welcomed kilometre off. This river was full of salmon with lots of fisherman scattered along its river banks.
From the dust of the day, as I turned into 1 kilometre road to the the town, I was suddenly dealing with a twisty, muddy, water logged road... Interesting place this hey! Well this village was a real enigma, as far as Kamchatkan villages go. Surprisingly populated, I'd imaging 5000 people, no obvious source of employment, a mixture of derelict and restored apartment infrastructure, and 5 or 6 magazyns' all supplying virtually the same stuff, all positioned around the derelict, overgrown village square. I really don't get how the micro economy of these villages work! Anyway from a hungry, thirsty, 'can't wait to celebrate the day's achievement', cyclist this was heaven. I lovely cold beer and snacks, and time sit back and relax and take in all the village has to show... There is something very freeing doing this as an unassociated yet, quite deeply temporarily immersed observer. The kids come up, stare, some smile, a few ask questions, some touch my bike...I'm something they have never seen the likes of before! I decide it's back to the 'peace and solitude' of the river for the night, but little was I to know! My prize 'caviar' would be defrosted, and so I thought a dash of mayonnaise, and a 'half jack' of vodka, all on my own, next to a salmon infested, flowing river would bring me close to the "Russian Tradition"!
I stock up ride back to the river, down the short, steep road to the to river bank, and I pass a van with one guy, looking like he is fishing, and maybe camping on his own... Further downstream, a great site, almost right on the river just big enough for my little tent, and difficult for anyone else to be near.
Just finished setting up, and the guy from the upstream site comes up, and greets me, with a warm smile and handshake, introducing himself as Sergey. He is adamant I can't camp where I am on my own, as there are big Kamchatkan bears around, and he even indicates where there was one "last night"...Hmmm, but slowly mate! He 'forces' me over to his site, and by now his two mates are also there. I get introduced to another two Sergeys, so three of them, and the Sergey that called me across is the gregarious, leader. He insists I bring my tent to a place right next to their van, they sleep in the back, but I refuse to budge, but agree to come join them for dinner. Well, the invitation to a night to remember forever..or best forget!
They are serious fishermen, from Yelzovo / Petropavlosk Kamchatka , long time mates, who are having a good, boys fishing and camping weekend together...They are organised in every respect. Their English is minimal, but better than most, and the one Sergey's English improves a lot as he relaxes and gets comfortable with me. I bring across my contribution to dinner: Defrosted salmon roe, mayonnaise, freshish bread, whole salami, vodka, hey I feel like I'm almost an authentic Russian contributor in the heart of salmon fishing wilderness. Well, they look at my salmon roe with disgust, and indicate I should throw it out, and lift a whole bunch of carefully laid leaves to reveal 3 huge salmon, bellies cut open with the freshest of fresh, bright orange roe, spilling in their excess. As for the vodka they take my small bottle put it aside, produce their maxi bottle, and pour a traditional metal cup, 'standard' for me, then topping their own up... That was a great welcome, but also the first step in a trail of memorable 'disaster'.
We chat, Sergey gets out his wooden board, and gets to work on the fresh salmon roe...separating each egg from the surrounding bonding plasma, and before long, 'we' have two salmon's roe prepared, salted and ready for chasing down with another "chut / chut" of vodka He tells me to compare my defrosted, anemic looking roe, with the fresh stuff, and I can see now that what I though was precious gold given to me, was unwanted frozen excess, but still the intent and sentiment value of the gift earlier in the day, remained special.
I must say, I felt this huge conflict wiithin: I 'm not so passionate about fish roe, that a salmon 'mother to be' should have to sacrifice her life and that of all her potential offspring for me, or the Sergeys. What made things worse for me, was that all the fishing was only for egg laden, females. Males if caught, were always thrown back till the prized female eventtually got hooked. I sensed none of this sport fishing was done with any sort of licence, and had there been a licence it would have precluded the taking of egg carrying females. Whether it was my cowardice or what, I am a little bit disapointed in myself not confronting the issues with the Sergeys, and partaking of these joint activities without knowing their legal or broader nature conservation implications.
Well boys, will be boys, and I got sucked into the warm and real friendship ambience of the riverside, camp setting. The fishing continued, the stories flowed, the vodka ran out, switching to leader Sergio's homemade cognac, and the bonding was uniquely special. Everything was put down to "Russian Tradition", making it difficult to turn down offers of more, etc, and I just literally went with the flow! They started insisting on me not sleeping where the bears come, and even as a surprise to myself, in my vodka assisted courageous, I weakened to agreeing to put up my electric fence. Well after finally be able to extract myself from the 'party', I proudly set up the electric fence unassisted, but in showing them how it worked I stepped to close to the river bank and fell into the icy, fast moving river, with all my clothes on! A shock wake up to the inebriated system, but a costly one: My camera was in my trouser pocket, got completely doused and was now totally inoperable! For me, being without a camera, is like a real loss of a critical, personal faculty. Anyway, I have to admit to feeling quite inebriated at thee time, so getting rid of my wet clothing and sleep was my only priority!
As my world spun around me in my tent, I moved to pure survival of the second, no thoughts of the morrow but I somehow knew it would be tough!
What a day this had been....The true intensity of experience would only dawn on my later the next day, and really only now as I rethink through the whole day writing this entry!