High in the Altai Mountains, HEIKE VORNHAGENwent looking for snow leopards
AS A PERSON who has nursed a keen interest in the middle of nowhere but had trouble finding it, the prospect of travel in remote central Asia seemed too good to miss.
Earlier this year I came across Biosphere Expeditions, which organises research trips in the Altai Mountains. The range runs from Kazakhstan into western Mongolia and northern China, and has given its name to the Altai Republic, a part of the Russian Federation that sits between China, Mongolia and Kazakhstan.
Rising from 350m to 4,500m, and forming one of the most beautiful, pristine and remote parts of the world, it was added to the list of World Heritage sites in 1998 as a globally important area of biodiversity. The range provides the habitat for a number of endangered species, including the snow leopard and manul, a small wild cat.
Altai is, however, also one of the poorest regions of the former Soviet Union, whose collapse increased the pressure to exploit natural resources and deprived local scientists of precious funds for biodiversity conservation.
Biosphere Expeditions supports local research efforts, both those looking for the cats and the Siberian Environmental Institute, which is interested in birds of prey. Volunteers are needed to help survey the area, the results of which feed into research carried out by the scientist attached to the expedition.
Little is known about the status and distribution of the globally endangered snow leopard in the area, and in briefings before our trip we were told that our chance of seeing one of them was very small: since Biosphere started this project only a few signs, such as faeces and tracks, have been found.
Still, maybe this time would be different and we would see the so-called mountain ghost. If not, I figured, the chance of seeing argali (a rare mountain sheep) and Altai ibex as well as eagles and other birds of prey was enticing enough, so I decided to join last month’s expedition.
Having arrived in the Siberian city of Novosibirsk on a bus from Kazakhstan, I spent a day looking around and stocking up on essentials – chocolate! – before meeting the other volunteers and the expedition staff.
Their first major issue was the not-insignificant matter of explaining how to drive in Russia to those of us who had volunteered to handle one of the four jeeps needed for the trip. Apart from driving in the mountains, we had a two-day, 1,000km journey to base camp.
Besides us volunteers, our group included the scientist Volodya Tytar, who was responsible for collating and analysing the information gathered; Andy Stronach, the expedition leader; Valentina Mukhina, a translator; and our glorious cook, Nina.
On our first day we were stopped three times by Russian police; we got off only by paying some hefty fines – apparently a first for the expedition.
The landscape was rather flat around Novosibirsk; it changed abruptly after a high pass on the second day. Suddenly, it was like being on the moon: nothing but rocks and mountains as far as the eye could see. This changed soon again into steppe, which after a wet spring was covered in flowers of all colours.
On the evening of our second day we arrived at base camp, nestled between two high mountain ridges beside a crystal-clear and freezing-cold stream. Base camp consisted of tents for each of us, kitchen and storage tents, a mess tent, latrines and shower tents. After dinner we went up a smallish mountain to celebrate our arrival with some vodka and to watch the sun set.
Next morning it was more briefings on the habitats of snow leopards, covering how our work is contributing to snow-leopard research and how to recognise tracks and other signs. There was already a lot of excitement, as a group of seven ibex had been spotted wandering the slopes above base camp.
The afternoon consisted of some much-needed training in off-road driving before relaxing over dinner.
The next day saw our first proper expedition. One group, under the guidance of our scientist, decided to explore the ridges around base camp; the other went up a narrow valley with the expedition leader. We all knew what to look out for, although spotting vipers, kites, eagles and other rare birds probably provided the most joy.
Then it was decided to decamp to higher terrain, giving us a chance to explore ridges above 3,000m.
Again we split into groups, with the result that we saw more than 50 ibex and 20 argali, both prime sources of food for the snow leopard. No sign of the elusive mountain ghost itself, though we weren’t giving up hope just yet.
After some more relaxing days back at base camp we took another, longer trip, this time taking right up to the Mongolian border. Exploring proved a bit more difficult around here. We had to not only cross two fast-flowing mountain streams but also make sure that we stayed out of a five-kilometre exclusion zone patrolled by Russian border guards – one way to find out if our map-reading training had been of any use.
Going up into the mountains was challenging, as apart from climbing we had to cross a lot of scree, plus the occasional treacherous snowy patch. We were rewarded with glorious views of the valley below us, and we spent some time watching a rainstorm pass across the ridges. Although we found no signs of snow leopards, it was a highlight of the expedition: we saw rare birds and other animals – we nearly stepped on a saker falcon, which had our expedition leader euphoric – and felt as if we were in the middle of nowhere, with nothing for company but snow, rocks and the stunning scenery.
Unfortunately, our two weeks were coming to an end, and it was time to get ready for the two-day trip back to civilisation. A farewell dinner in Novosibirsk and we were dispatched to our respective countries.
Despite the brevity of the trip – 12 days, of which we drove for at least four – it was an amazing experience that affected me deeply. Being in such a beautiful and desolate place made me aware of what we have lost in our quest for more money and more things – and of what we are willing to destroy for our comfortable lifestyles.
Would I do it again? Yes, although I would prefer to spend longer exploring. Maybe next year I will investigate the mountains under my own steam.
See: biosphereexpeditions.org