Forward to Yakutsk - From the Amursky Region

July began from chebureks and we started our journey at 5:50 of local time. At 6:40 we were driving through the Amursky region. At 7:10 we passed Erophey Pavlovich. The line was splendid; we were going at a speed 80-90 km/h, periodically testing a fortress of bump stops. Our chippers were tough. At 9:30 we had breakfast in Skovorodino, took on fuel and after 15 km we were in Bolshoy Never, the last point of our federation. Here we turned off to Yakutsk by the Amur-Yakutsk highway (AYH).

Well, and where we had to turn off? The wide road goes directly to railway crossing, and perpendicularly to the right there is a narrow one from which stages come up. Between them on a cable column there is a brick, tilted at an angle of 45 degrees to both roads. The main navigator, my wife, went to the shop for investigation. Ok, ahead there was a washed off bridge, but "we could pass it by jeep". So we passed. We were passing the settlement of Never, waiting opposite on a fork, there was no guides. In five minutes a nice lady behind a rudder of the lorry showed directly! Forward, to Yakutsk!

Having run 40 кm on a quite good priming (at 60-80 km/h) cheerfully, we passed Solovevsk. Arches are both in drive and way out. After it an unexpected meeting - a Niva of 24th region! Gone away. The priming to Tynda was of variable quality, so somewhere we were going at a speed of 50-60 and somewhere - at 80. We are near Tynda and behind it there are 75 km of asphalt, but with holes.

Tynda

At the entrance to Tynda we noted the strange movements of a bonnet. When we opened it, we found the burst cramp the lock Bumpy! At once, at the entrance we found service with welding, and lined up. Having decided to have a dinner, we asked some Mark at the shop about nearest cafe because before we hadn't seen anyone. It was difficult to find that cafe so we decided to eat at the station. Mark offered to follow him up to a crossroads, "where at the right and in 1 km there is the station". At the crossroads Mark showed by his hand "Follow me" and took us to the entrance of the station, went out and told where canteen is. Cool, bloody hell! Already here we felt difference from our megapolitan indifference.

So at the station canteen we had a dinner, not very cheap, nearly 380 rubles (1 USD = appr. 27 RUB; 1 EUR = appr. 34 RUB) for each person, but, rather tasty than in the Soviet times.

In 1 hour, having welded the clamp, we refueled and passed the road patrol of GAI (State Motor Vehicle Inspectorate) with radar decorously, and moved to Yakutia.

There were no more asphalt and the road became worse, but we were optimistic, as we were going faster than a legend said, gradually making up for the slowest variant of the schedule. But there was something strange: mostly we were driving faster than average speed of the schedule, but were dropping behind it more and more! There are two causes: repairs and fine stops. They very influence at the average speed. If you stop at the shop for 10 minutes, you will lose 10-15 km. And it can be proved by one case: in the morning, woken up at "U Petra", we noted to an empty Krasnoyarsk carrier, I don't remember what made it was, but something import and 'noseless'. During two days, almost up to the Skovorodino, we had been overtaking it six times! And these men had already linked on the right turn signal light, inviting us to overtaking, and signaled after us cheerfully. We were going fast, and they were persistently! They were plowing and plowing.

At 16.45 we entered Yakutia

Quality of priming worsened. The road is strange: you are driving a long time on broken priming and, suddenly, you find yourself on asphalt! Praise God! But the road paradise lasts 4-5 km only and immediately you start another 20-40 km of priming. That happens many times. Before Chulman we went on red, rather crimson, asphalt. Asphalt in area Nerjungri - Chulman - Serebrjannyj Bor is 100 km. Further there are pieces of asphalt up to Tommot, the last station of railway. Here the containers are delivered from Yakutsk.

The border of Nerjungrinsky region

In Chulman we tried to refuel in a Soviet-like gasoline station. There are two stations only and both, of course, were closed for one and a half (!) hour for shift change. Ok, the tank got big eventually. However, we had not time to leave, as it began to flurry. In Yakutia it's a tropical downpour. Visibility was up to 5 meters. We stopped at shoulder three times.

At 21.00 we had supper in B.Hatymi. At 23.00 in B.Nimnyre there was no place for spending the night, and we forwarded to Aldan. At 1 a.m. we were in Aldan, the big parking appeared full of lorries. We stopped near the cafe and began to sleep! We sleep fully, with inflating of mattresses.

It was strange, but in 2 hours I woken up and I couldn't fall asleep. I got up, smoked, and climbed on a driver's place. And some actions began near the cafe. Three guys in can with jadeites flattered. In 5 minutes guys from another car approached. They left; two of them began to jostle one another. Then they gone away, but didn't leave. In 10 minutes another four fighters appeared. But I had already heated a cursor and decided to slip away from that place. Firstly I was driving at a speed of 30-40, and then at 60, with braking on turns up to 30. I had been driving on asphalt till 6.00 am. My guys were snuffling peacefully in a luggage carrier.

At 7 a.m. we approached Tommot, a big, accurate settlement. We had a breakfast in pleasant cafe.

The veritable YAH begins after Tommot! It is a shame of famously beautiful Yakutia! The road is in hollows, and what's more the distance between them is 1-1.5 meters. The road is from rocky breed, not rolled up, and what about grader... it hadn't been there for a long time. It was impossible to drive along the lanes and the center, everywhere we went along the edge of shoulder, with an inclination of 20 degrees. Basically along the opposite, for some reason or other, it was always better! And on a return way 75 percent we drove along opposite shoulder. We were surprised to counter wagons; they too went along opposite road. We diverged by the right boards. Doubts crept in: maybe we were in Japan? Threefold brainstorm gave result: the last ford was in B.Never; it meant that it wasn't Japan. Simply in Yakutia, when the roads are very bad, traffic is right-hand. We caught up with the Kraz-kran of 24th region! The poor one, the driver hadn't come to conclusion and ran along the center of the road at speed of 15 km/h. I bypassed it from the left side, went to the right shoulder (that was a mistake!), I gathered up speed to 40 and I missed the stone. We tore up side door, spent an hour under rain, paid 5500 rubles for a dying horse to pull our vehicle, and left with no spare wheel at all!

This disgrace lasted till Uluu. There at 2 o'clock we had lunch and found curing. There was no suitable inlet tube, but we had! But now we don't. We insert a screw block, inlet tube, and pump up and we'll drive some hours. We go further. Alas, it wasn't raining and earlier road was simply bilious, not disgrace. But the disgrace one began ...

We met Germans! We had dinner with them in cafe. They didn't look as winners...

All this disgrace was about 400 km. What you see in photo isn't gravel; it is a fine silt of 1-1.5 meters. Probably, it is matting, but they don't hurry to put it. We, at least, didn't see. Approximately in 100 km from Kachikatsy the dust became simply intolerable, and we couldn't see anything further 2 meters behind a wagon going at a speed of 10-15 km/h. When I was trying to increase the speed, suddenly I saw a back part of a wagon directly before a bonnet, I hardly could slowdown... and, fortunately, the wagon has disappeared at once!

It's unreal to know where it goes. 10 kilometers 3 wagons were leaving us behind, but when it became clear, we saw one wagon to have driven in a board of another! And it happened at such speed, in one traffic direction. Probably, ahead there was one more... On each side lines sometimes containers roll.
In cafe "over the road" truckers said that after Kahcikatsy it will be "better". Indeed, it was asphalt but soon it ended and not "better" road began. But nevertheless it is better. It seemed like local inhabitants don't worry about roadways on this part. In Kachikatsy there is a ferry on the left coast of Lena, and there is only 100-km asphalt road up to Yakutsk.

At 8 p.m. we arrived in Nizhnyj Bestjah! We passed the AYH, and that is the starting point of Kolyma road!

The Yakut "Kolyma"

We had supper and refueled our cars. We find out, that Baikal smoked omul was getting that amazing smell that is appreciated by the real Yakuts.

Three times we searched cold beer throughout the settlement of Bestyakh. To me, Yakuts obviously dislike cold beer whether because of short summer or local way of life. However, after visiting ten shops, we finally found beer in a refrigerator! We bought a dozen and ran away from Bestyakh!

We searched for a lodging for the night with the stream because our car was covered with a thick layer of dust. In 30 km we saw Suola cafe. The second signboard said, that this is a country facility "Uspeh" (Success). We asked about any small river in neighbourhood. It appeared to be 500 meters away. We turned behind the bridge and in 300 meters we moved down to coast. That's it!

The main navigator washed interior and glasses of our car, and Vovka and we started eating fish with beer. The fish that is plentifully seasoned with mosquitoes and slightly smelling of "Moscitol", is just amazing! We finished eating simultaneously with Lena, and after 3 (or 4?) bottles of beer for each I decided that the sea smoothly rolling the waves before us was not a barrier for a true jeep driver and it's a shame for two brave guys to move back from a pity rivulet. But the main navigator was rather too sober and severe, I looked in the rearview, the wet cloth in a hand was very convincing. We shamefully moved our jeep back to the hill and forwarded to a cafe. We didn't have supper in there. We just sulked and went to sleep...

The morning turned out to be fine. At 8.40 after the pair of fritters with a cup of coffee we drove further. The road was bad; we were shaking. There were passer-by cars, raising a dust. All those cars were grey "loaves" (i.e. mini-van looked UAZ). Surprisingly, but grey "loaves" made 95% of local vehicles. The pair of 469 and pair of another model and that's all. No foreign cars at all... Ups, I am confusing you. On our way back we stopped before Prado laying with wheels upwards near to the edge. It looked new though it was obviously not the subject for restoration - the roof was smashed. Teenagers and young guys ran up, there were ten or twenty of them, they asked scissors and knife on metal. The driver had his leg clamped with a rudder. There was a slight turn before ahead, I think the car floated in it on a comb. In general, a comb is a terrible thing. On federal road our "hippopotamus" sometimes started to live its own life absolutely independent of a rudder. Only the brake helped us to escape accidents...

In 20 km to Churapcha there was a "loaf" stuck on road. The old Yakut with the lifted hand was approaching us. We stopped. "Will you give me a ride?" he asked. And then three of us heard different destinations. I heard something on "Y" and decided that he was talking about Ytyk-Kyuol. It was too far and the only free room we had between seats was hammered by stuff. However, we had to help. The man sat down and fell asleep. On entrance in Churapcha we drove in ancient gas station. Before going to pay, I asked my team to specify the fellow traveler's destination. When I came back, the Yakut was saying goodbye to us... I heard his last phrase: "Well, shit happens!" It appeared he was driving to Yakutsk! We didn't understand what he was doing in "loaf" coursing to Churapcha?

We left the refueling and began to search for a drugstore. We asked women only, because we weren't looking for an alcohol-market. It turned out that it was easier to find the shaman. We went to another end of settlement (that was big!) and asked again. The fourth lady we asked explained that we had to go to the road through which we entered the settlement! Half an hour passed and we found it eventually!

We left the settlement. The road was again bad. In a little while we felt ourselves going astray. That's why we were happy to meet the Kamaz (the Russian truck) with the trailer stuck in a lawn. We asked which way to go - to the right or to the left? We were said to go back, again through the village!
The road surprisingly turned good. We had dinner in the Ytyk-Kyuol canteen, and we were simply struck with the quantity of the Yakut youth! In general, from Yakutsk up to Handyga we didn't see anyone who was not the Yakut! Also we were surprised with the passion of Yakuts to various non-standard monuments to different events. Here they had ones dedicated to wars, to "Mayak" and Chernobyl...

This shot was taken on our way back. This is a monument to convicts, the builders of a line:

The area of Uolba.

We were in hurry. We needed to get into a ferryboat, cross Aldan and reach Khandyga. The last report said that the ferry coming from Megino-Aldan was somewhere near to Handyga.

I know, that the road was built here, the "earth break" should have been liquidated in 2005, but "in connection with state underfinancing" civil engineering firms suspended road works. But still it was possible to go through. I planned 25 km/h. We turned off and ... we went 100 km up to the ferry with a speed of 90-100 km/h. Only on the last 20 km we are slowed down to 80 - a very thick layer of road metal (crushed stone), our "hippopotamus" floats. And here it was Aldan. Damn, Yenisei is in Krasnoyarsk already.

Our info said that the ferry was coming at 21.00. We said farewell to the last bottle of beer and Baikal fish. After the farewell procedure during which the navigator, naturally, washed up interior and glasses, we found out with a regret that right anti-fog layer "overhung, as if it was lifeless" and fell off with a slice of kangoorin without any efforts from our side. God damn these Russian roads...

Isn't it a fine stony coast in the picture? Here we for the first time turn on 4L, sitting on these stones, under which there was water. From 7 pm cars started to gather, we took the first position. The ferry arrived, unloaded a pack of machines and just departed... without us.

We were in shock! Suddenly we saw rising from the coast Surf or TLK80 (a Big one) from Magadan! The car owner told us "It doesn't matter. You'll cross Kyubume without any difficulty, Arkagalinka is just a streamlet, but in pools you're gonna dive if you pass it at all." It meant that we still had 70-80 km from the border to get to our destination; the rest was easy.

Instead of the disappeared ferry, another arrived soon and it was much bigger, it stood beside all this time. We got in there. At 22.20 we reached another coast.

We had 35 km to Handyga, we got there in half an hour. Another half an hour we spent looking for a cafe, after all in the center we found the cafe under tents and we got barbecue. People started to gawk at us. Of course! In that "oasis of a civilization" suddenly there appeared three men without evening dress. Have you ever seen hair of the person who roamed in a sandy drill for three days? Our hairbrushes had broken long ago, only the Lena's left, it was made of a fine Siberian cedar, with teeth of 6x6 mm.

After a supper a guy came up, we had a small talk. He told, that we had to pass Kyubume not on the destroyed bridge but 1-1.5 km lower. We went to refueling, but there was no petroleum! There was 76 left only! The refuel girl said that there was no other gas station in Handyga. I couldn't believe it, that place didn't consist of 5 streets with three houses in each, but it was the largest settlement with 5-10 thousand people. In three hundred meters we saw a big tank farm, we dropped in, and on the other side there was a refueling! Rather modern, with petroleum for 22.50. Guerrilla!

Handyga, by the way, is a true Russian settlement.

All right, we got full, the "hippopotamus" loudly hummed (the muffler was full of holes), and we went to search for hotel. Not because we wanted to have a sleep comfortably, but it would be desirable to wash off a dirty. One of the silliest questions you can ask locals is "Where is a hotel here?" Indeed, why do they need it? Therefore we were sent to different places. Having passed in one hour whole Handyga we understood that it was useless. At that moment we again met UAZ owner whom we talked to on the ferry.

The muzhik with a young guy was heading for Ust-Nehra. It is a final point of the initial Kolyma road Magadan-Ust-Nehra. (The "Kolyma" line was continued then: Yakutsk - Handyga - Ust-Nehra - Magadan.) But still in the summer there was no road yet, 9 km of otsypka (crashed stones) and 2 bridges are left. They have been being built already but not opened. That's why the muzhik sent his wife by plane, went up himself to Tomtor where he was going to leave his car and then he would float a boat downwards across the Indigirka river. But at that moment he was repairing a wheel once again. He damaged the first wheel with a cable on the ferry, and "oops, he did it again"!

He told us that in 15 km there will be the deserted post, there he was going to spend the night. We thought to join him, but couldn't find a post. Vovka and Lena slept, I decided to reach the nearest settlement of Teplyi Kluch, the local airport. There were 40-45 km on the way. And then in the rearview I saw someone went behind us.

The night it was, and somehow I remembered the drunk guys on Cruiser near the cafe and I felt a bit scared. Damn, of course, but anything could change here for 35 years! So having disappeared behind the next hill and having slipped on some path, I turned back, moved down, and switched off the lights. The nights were white, but cloudy. Three minutes later the dark blue "loaf" passed. I laughed with Vovka woken up from silence, then he went on to sleep, and I headed for Teplyi Kluch.

There was a driver we had met at the berth. He was surprised, that we came later him. I told him about my fears, we laughed. The muzhik said that times had changed. He lived all his life here. "Now you can leave your car if it's broken on the road and come back in 2-3 days with spare parts and you find your vehicle safe," he said. Ok, it was 2 am. Time to sleep!

I woke up with fellow travelers simultaneously; it was 8 am. The muzhik decided to see his wife who was to land at the airport on intermediate landing in an hour or so. At 8.40 am we drove further on rather good gravel.

Eastern Yakutia

We passed Razvilka (Fork) at 10 am. Here is Eastern Khandyga Bridge leading to Nezhdaninskoe deposit.

Mountainous area began...

We crossed Tomtor pass, nothing special despite threatening warnings. But mounts became higher after the pass. Gravel road happened to be okey, our speed wasn't lower than 60 km/h; bridges at their places, except one fixed - there's circuit with ford. The brook was small, but boulders way too large! We reduced the speed and went really slow.

We passed Lastochkino Gnezdo (Swallow's Nest). And here is Zhelty Prizhim ("prizhim" is the Russian definition of the narrowest part of one-lane road along rock):

Quite impressive, but we couldn't wait to see Cherny (Black) Prizhim. And here it was.

Suspension bridge:

Somewhere over here, 10 days before, crashed down a car with three guys and three girls. Sober driving is much securer here ...

Photo made from the car:

There were twice more stones on the way back:

What can I say? I saw landscape beauty and felt... confusion. Unfortunately, photos can't show neither the deepness of this prizhim, nor the deepness of feelings it raises. You can see suspension bridge in the third photo. The road is extremely tight, for one car only. In some places a car barely can go through; but there is a couple of pockets to pass one another. The road always suffers from washouts, there's no use of pouring it out; it's messing with cliffs, hence crooks. Just can't imagine how it was all built by prisoners with spades and picks, probably without explosives, in 1930s. Not surprising that was called The Road of Bones.

Passed this site at nighttime on our way back. Really exciting. The road became worse, speed - 40-60 km/h, we were shaking a bit all the way. Many prizhims, almost half of the way is above Eastern Khandyga (or another river already?). The view is very beautiful. Great mountains covered with colorful moss and thin stunted larches, green narrow valleys, the river with many glaciers (in July!). Short larches are bright-green at the bottom.

I don't know the way autumn is here, but it reminds that of Kolyma, then it's cooler than Boldino autumn. Why, Boldino autumn is nice, too. But here it is different. Silence. Sternness. Modesty. All the year round. Yellow-red bacchanal of fluorescent colours in autumn. If Pushkin had lived some 100 years later, he would have painted a vivid picture of Kolyma for sure ...

And here we are in Kyubyuma area. Here is our co-traveler in his "pill" (UAZ 3303). The river isn't futile at all. Deep vigorous stream.

No, it's too deep and fast. We return to the bridge. While co-traveller starts his primus stove, I get on the bridge. Then we meet two Englishmen on motorbikes. Not very talkative, they look around and in a moment... leave by Ust-Nera Road. Well, nobody was stopping them; maybe they will get a lift by Saigaks. Oh, what the hell? I see UAZ car wandering on the other bank of the river, right next to a glacier. He's certainly seeking for some ford. I call my fellow-traveller and he joins me. We can't see the car, but we can hear motor and rocks roar. The car went ahead! And in a sec it's already on our bank! A couple of channels to cross, but they're nothing. With our eyes we follow the place he leaves for the road and we start our own way! We throw our stuff on the back seat, find the place to get into the river, 20 minutes to prepare the car and we move ahead. Cross channels one after another...Hoee, we crossed the main cannel. 2-3 channels more and Kybyume is left behind.

We cook a very tasty dinner - rozhki po-flotsky (noodles with canned stewed beef). Canned stew is from Abakan, the costliest one by the way, and is really good. Even better than that from Soviet times. We see Englishmen again while we're having dinner. Oh, this time we are more popular! No way in hell we are going to... refuse explaining the road -...one hundred meters to up, from stela to left, etc. We watch their efforts for about an hour. Then we see Saigak on the opposite bank, it goes some 300 meters down, hear it moving through and here it is already passing by. Then it suddenly goes back and stops in front of us and we hear: "Hey! Don't you guys need a lift to the other bank?" Sure, we refuse. "Got any vodka? A bottle at least, we'll pay enough!" We didn't have what they needed and suggested taking those Englishmen, they will probably give a good reward. "We don't need their sterlings. And sure they ain't got vodka!". And they left. The nearest settlement is in 4 hours of driving. We continue our way at 7.20 pm. Englishmen disappeared. The settlement is dead. Only one house seems to be alive. On our way back we gave a ride to 3 pensioners-fishers, to the settlement. There was a gas station, and a 2-storey house of postal-workers behind it. An old man and a schedule. It works nightlong and a bit in the morning. Or you have to call that old man for 50 rubles if you come beyond the schedule. Well, we call the old man. He comes out grumbling: "What did you expect? It's been too long they didn't pay anything..." Asks how we passed the river. We tell him about glacier. "Good job, didn't swim around as some fools..."

Not far from Kyumume there is a nice lake, Ulu probably:

We get to Tomtor, the cold pole of the northern hemisphere. Although we were taught that another town, Oymyakon, which is 40 km in another direction, was the cold pole. May be it was the Yakutians' ruse to move the cold pole nearer to the road so that it became more available for foreign tourists? Obruchev's expedition fixed 71.2?C in 1925 in Tomtor. I wonder whether anybody checked the temperature before or after Obruchev.

We look for some hotel, and find two in Kuidusun! But windows are boarded, and it seems it's been a long time. So, we go ahead.

And stay to sleep at about 2 am. Right on our seats. In the middle of the road. Last time we saw a car was in Kyubyuma.... We'll see the next car the day after tomorrow, down Kadykchan.

Thousand Puddles Road

My brother woke up at about 7 and took off right away. Lenka and I woke up a bit later. We passed several brooks by boulders circuits. Well, we met the first puddle at about 9. The puddle wasn't that bad, on our way back we didn't even stop before it, 'cause we were experienced already. But now, having checked the deepness in rubber boots, we decided to choose another way. The puddle was wheel-high and silt-bottomed. In general, all puddles have similar bottoms - a deep rut in the middle, sometimes it's waist-deep. But the bottom itself is hard, the silt layer is 15-20 cm thick and 40 cm - by the edges. There are no trees around hoist (40 m radius). Well, it looks like we have to make a road of brushwood, I grab an axe and bring a big larch in some 15 minutes. The brother chose another strategy and dug out some used beams from the dirt. It was obviously easier than cutting larches and getting rid of twigs. That larch was the only one we cut.

So, that was how we overcame the first puddle, straightening our way with those beams.

Our happiness was sincere and came too early

Why we were messing with the puddle, the Chief organized a luxurious breakfast (a pack of coloured noodles with canned stew). Full and satisfied with our first victory, we took off at about 8 am. We drove some 5 km on a pretty good gravel road. Puddles became smaller and we decided it was not far from Magadan region. We met less and less puddles and felt the worst was left behind.... And we saw a brook next to administrative unit stele.

Movement by the boundary bridge with a speed of 5 km/h gives tremendous relative effect. 30 seconds seemed as 2 hours! It wasn't so pleasant and on the way back we waded in the brook.

We go down in a valley ... and here it is - the road of thousand puddles. The puddles for all tastes: narrow and spread, with opportunity to take a detour. However, a detour more often is quite illusory.

Somewhere here - I don't remember precisely because of rain - we met two pedestrians! Wow, the Frenchmen! They were hiking from Magadan. We had a talk a bit. On a quite good mix of Russian and English foreigners staggered us with the promise of very difficult fifty kilometers to come across. Then there will be "so-so", Frenchmen said. We wished good luck to each other. On the way back we didn't see them. Maybe, they turned to a village for stay.

The third puddle happened to be very long and deep. We began to detour by an edge. There were no enough logs, so we risked and got stuck...

For first one and a half hours we had real physical toil. We tried to palm off different wood pieces under wheels though there was no space to put them. It was raining. The next hour we were drinking coffee and collecting our thoughts... But clever thoughts didn’t come to us… Some hallucinations appeared. I heard the noise of another motor. Stress! The view of male’s sitting inside the car and their drinking coffee silently made our navigator nervous. She suddenly and irresponsibly declared that she wouldn't go with us anywhere and anymore. That outbreak scalded us as turpentine.

Having come to a conclusion that it would be stupid to wait for someone's help, we got out the car and tried to use a hoist. We searched the opportunity to hook the tow-line on anything. But we didn’t find anything appropriate, besides weak bushes. Desperately we attempted to get hold of bushes and here we found out that the hoist was broken, precisely disassembled. No bolt in it. How come? That was okay just before our departure.

Long bolt searches with getting out everything from a luggage carrier didn't give any result. Afterwards somebody suddenly recalled that there was a bolt from a bed and seemingly of the same size. And it was. We immediately inserted the precious detail into the hoist and that was the starting point of our desired rescue.

Some operations like that... Oh, miracle, we are getting out!

Do you see how happy we were? After that sado-masochistic session we decided it would be much better to sink in water, than in swamp.

We didn't go round the puddles anymore. I voluntarily took heavy burden of the leader. The navigator (my wife) with a photo cam has been ruthlessly expelled from the car. The algorithm of getting through was like this: if a puddle had though one gravel cost with a width from 10 sm - this puddle was undertaken straight off. But on the first 70 km there weren't so much of them. Otherwise we two got out, Lenka with the photo cam bypassed a puddle by hummocks, and I tried to pass it by zigzags, measuring depth and the condition of a bottom. Sometimes a leg was sucked in so much, that I flopped into a puddle not having had time to pull it out. Fortunately, it occurred at the edges where it was shallower, but dirtier. Sometimes there were very artful puddles which needed to be passed very accurately, a step to the left, a step to the right. Then I stuck landmarks. Overcoming a water barrier, we jumped into the off-road vehicle and rode up to the next puddle.

However, puddles were so close to each other that we just went up to the next one on foot or ride by footsteps. Lenka was in a charge of preserving our modest feats for history. Damn, that digital camera. We had Canon A95. To get a precise shot, it was necessary to press the button for focusing tender, and then take a picture. Photographing required still objects, but it was impossible… Just imagine. The hippopotamus slowly entered into water and then got out with a roar. The vehicle tended to twist and twirl… It was difficult for the still camera to catch that fast breakthrough. Therefore we’ve got few good shots to show.

Towards evening we went uphill. The road winded on foothills, the valley lasted on the right. Gullies – somewhere deep, somewhere curve and dirty — began. Some of the roads ended with a landslide. They seem to exist for another one or two years only. If there weren't signalmen who need communications, nobody would pass the local roads.

By the way, that gully, which Shatun Expedition paved for Japanese truck’s passing last year is in good condition.

We had a bit rest on foothills. The bear who ran in front of the car for about three kilometers, entertained us greatly. It disappeared, when the road went down. In general there are a lot of various animals crossing roads, but all of them are little.

We saw many hares of different sizes. Strange dudes! Jumping out of bushes, they run along the road by zigzags! Whatever car lights are – distance or near, they run in any case. When we switched off light, they ran anyway. It was necessary to stop for not to have supper with hare meat. Once a hare ran 50 meters in front of our hippopotamus, than it ran on the left road side about 100 meters before jumping into high bushes. The speed was 55 km/h!

On the other side of the valley, we vaguely saw something similar to a water tower. It must be a settlement. If it was Adygalakh, we would finish the way! Yes, that was a big settlement, but forgotten many years ago.

From that point onwards we crossed another chain of puddles but with firm bottoms. At the end we saw a low stony clip. ‘Hope, it’s Adygalakhsky’, I thought to myself.

Passing the pin, we suddenly saw a white Niva (the Russian off-road car) on a flank! The car seemed to be empty. Fishermen? I examined the slope. Nobody around. I looked at the car and saw a lady with blond hair inside. She rose herself on her elbow, looked around, and fell asleep again. There were no any men in there!

We went further. The road divided: the first one went to the left onto the mountain, another one went to the right down the hill. No signs. The both roads seemed the same. In about 100 meters downhill there were two huts. One of them resembled a weather station. That building was dilapidated, but inhabited. A dog was barking; doors were closed. We calmed the dog down by food. So, we decided to go onto the mountain. If our assumption about Adygalakh was correct, the right road leaded to Big Khatyngakh. So it was. At 2 a.m. we stopped the car and fell asleep.

Result: for 19 hours we've passed 137 km including 70 km from the border.

At 7 a.m. we woke up, washed, boiled the coffee, and at 8 a.m. drove further. At 9.50 a.m. we approached the central line near Kadykchakh! It used to be one of prospering settlements in the Magadan region. In 90s the village of miners was defrosted. People were left to live in unheated houses. Local winter is cold. It might be -63?C.

We went further. It was a little raining. No dust. The road was just perfect. At 11.30 a.m. we stopped at Susuman, the first refuelling after Kuydusun. We didn't like Susuman, may be because of weather. We passed the Burkhalin crossing.

The road dodged and we reduced speed from 80-110 to 60-100. I stopped suddenly. Here was the house of my childhood. I lived on the second floor.

This is in 2 km from Burkhal mine. We lived a year here, 2 years in Burkhal, Volodya was born there. Then our family moved to Yagodnoye. It is in 37 km from here.
Do you see a bunker? This is the 11th km, I remember. Now there must be the sharp slope. No? There isn’t. Memory lies. In 100 meters we saw Yagodnoye. Here it is:

My paternal house and even wooden garage are still safe!

Well, we reached the final destination. We didn’t want very much to get to Magadan that was located in 525 km. We'd rather go to the range of lakes called after Jack London…

*Translated by YSU students:
- Yulya Rodina,
- Nurgun Novopriezjiy,
- Alexandra Markova,
- Elena Osipova,
- Elena Tolstoukhova.