Our Journey so Far: Reflections on a Surprise Extreme Cold Experience
Relieved that Alan had recovered from his "cold experience" of urinary retention the day before, we recalled with some mirth that the last movie we saw together was just after Alan's radical cystectomy, when sitting on his hospital bed, we watched a video which viewed something like a medical YouTube "How to Catheterise Yourself". Like all modern documentaries it was both confronting and yes, I guess - informative. But it was hardly entertaining. And shamefully, that we never did practice the catheterisation process. But we always carried a heap of catheters when we were overseas. Just in case... They always remained however, deeply embedded in the bottom of Alan's suitcase, most usually the only time thought of when our baggage was stored in the bowels of an aircraft on a long overseas flight. "Perish the catheters" we used to giggle....
And thankfully, even after Alan's worrying problem the evening before, we didn't have to use them. But it sure came close..... We were just lucky that neither of us didn't suffer any other ill effects from the freezing cold. It did however, make us very aware of how easily you can become careless - or in our case still very naive - about the nature and possible consequences of extreme cold.
Apart from the catheters, another "essential" item we always carry with us is a packet of "Chux" absorbent paper toweling. And once again, it came in very handy when late in the evening we accidentally snapped off the neck of our bottle of scotch and had to decant and strain the glass fragments from the full contents of our bottle. Now this was a real emergency on what we agreed had not been a particularly successful day....
Despite however, a bit of a "wet blanket" start, we were finding ourselves enjoying our journey. And even our aches and pains from our Saskylakh snowmobile trip were beginning to ease. The scenery and habitation were completely different from our Anabarskiy trip. Being the most densely population regions in the Sakha Republic, there were more villages and certainly more farming enterprises. And interestingly, even though the area is a lot colder than even the Anabar region, there was still a lot of tree growth with our road often forging through quite dense taiga forests.
We were also very fortunate in having Yura as our driver. Not only was he competent, he was also genial and easy company. And he had been very thoughtful the evening before taking us to the local Alma supermarket after our chicken heart dinner debacle. In hindsight, the evening was very amusing. But it did take some time to realise it....
The Khandyga Floria Hotel was very acceptable too. Our room was comfortable and cosy and the place was spotless.
And the shower was super-hot with heaps of water pressure - a real luxury in these extreme cold environments. Even the hotel staff had warmed considerably and even the three police highway patrol guests were very friendly. A small communal kitchen was handy for making coffee and tea - as well as throwing together a make-do dinner out of our flat bread and cheese the evening before. It was a good start as we knew we would be staying here on our return journey. When you are in these remote regions, arriving at a hotel is always a tense experience. And I can assure you that finding acceptable accommodation is a huge relief.
A Glimpse of Khandyga Town, Tomponskiy Ulus
Our trip that day would take us some 510 km through the mountainous Tomponskiy and Oymyakonskiy Ulusy from Khandyga to Tomtor, one of several villages in the Oymyakon district. It was on this trip that we would be reconnecting with and travelling along the notorious gulag constructed section of the Kolyma Highway, otherwise known as The Road of Bones.
Yura hurrying off to pick up his car from one of the local heated garages, called out to us that we would be having breakfast on the way. Or that's what we thought he said. At long last I was beginning to understand a little Russian language. We also understood that although we were supposed to be visiting the Museum of Gulag History at the village of Teply Klyuch some 70 km from Khandyga, the museum was closed for the day. Perhaps we would like to visit it on our return journey, he asked? Being one of the museums we were interested in visiting, we happily agreed.
Before we left, Yura took us for a short drive around Khandyga town. On a very cold and frosty winter morning, there was not a lot to view in this forlorn little settlement. Khandyga, the administrative centre of the Tomponskiy Ulus is located on the Kolyma Highway, some 380 km north-east of Yakutsk on the north-east bend of the Aldan River, where the river turns from north to west. The township boasts a population of around 6,000 inhabitants. Services include secondary schools, mining and geological institutions, a museum, health care and trade institutions.
Strategically located on the Aldan River and the Kolyma Highway, Khandyga is a major transit hub for the Tomponskiy Ulus. The township is serviced also by the Teply Klyuch Airport, about an hour’s drive north-east of the settlement. Interestingly, the airport was built here during World War II as an airfield for the Alaska-Siberian air route to supply American Lend-Lease aircraft to the Eastern Front.
Like all Soviet settlements in this area, Khandyga had an interesting, if tragic and intensely gruesome history. Founded in 1939, Khandyga was used as a strategic base and distribution station for the Soviet Dalstroy (the directorate of the regional gulag system) forced labour camps for the construction of the Kolyma Highway from Yakutsk to Magadan and as a centre for the gulag network of the Kolyma region. It served also as a supply and distribution hub for the prison labour gold and coal mines until 1954. Once a flourishing settlement during some of the darkest periods of Russian history, Khandyga like many older Soviet centres in the Far East, is now a township in population decline.
Through Tamponskiy Ulus To Teply Klyuch
Our trip from Khandyga to Tomtor took us through the Tomponskiy Ulus, one of the 34 ulisy of the Sakha Republic. A multi-bordered district, it is located in the east of Sakha Republic and borders with the Momskiy District in the north-east, Oymyakonskiy District to the east, Ust-Mayskiy District in the south-east, Tattinskiy District in the south-west, Ust-Aldanskiy and Kobyayskiy Districts to the west and with Verkhoyanskiy District in the north and north-west. The district is mostly mountainous incorporating the Sette-Daban mountains of the southern part of the Verkhoyansk Ranges.
It is here in the Russian Far East that you begin - even for us Australians - to understand and come to terms with the massive areas, relative distances and population densities of some of the region. They are staggering statistics. Sakha Republic is roughly the size of India while the Tomponskiy ulus at some 135,800 square km, is considerably larger than the entire area of Greece.
Yet, these huge lands are some of the least populated regions in the world. For example, India's population is 1.4 billion whereas Sakha's inhabitant are only 950,000. Similarly, the population of Greece is around 10.7 million whereas the larger Tomponskiy ulus is only around 14,000. Of course, it is a climate factor but the scarcity of population is mind-blowing.
Interestingly, the demographics of the region are in distinct contrast to the Yakut dominated regions we had travelled through to now with Russians comprising some 57% of the population and Yakuts just 22%. The economy of Tomponskiy is based on mining, construction material production and agriculture. The region is rich in deposits of tin, tungsten, copper, lead, zinc, antimony, molybdenum, gold, silver, coal, gypsum, marble and rare minerals.
The climate in Tomponskiy is extreme Arctic with average January winter temperatures ranging from minus 42 C to minus 38 C. Conversely, summers are mild with temperatures ranging from plus 10 to plus 17 C. Annual precipitation is between 250 - 300 mm; an Arctic Desert you could well imagine except that much of the ground water is supplied by seasonal snow or permafrost melt.
Breakfast at the Alyaska Kafe
We really enjoy the roadside cafes of remote Russia. Not only are they rare and invaluable places to find hot food, groceries and fuel, they are obvious stopping off locations for tired drivers and bases for information on road and weather conditions for ongoing journeys. They also serve as a sort of social hub for the drivers, many of whom drive huge distances for more than 24 hours non-stop. And best of all - they are places where real people get on with their day to day lives. For us, it sure beats any form of tourism. Toilets? Well, best not to comment....
The Alyaska Kafe (Alaska Cafe) is located at Teply Klyuch some 70 km north-east of Khandyga. Obviously named for its past relationship with Alaskan airbases during World War II, this relatively substantial premises serves a good range of hot foods, canned groceries, snack foods and even has a liquor outlet. Interestingly, it is customary to wash your hands in the sink provided before eating. And this was pre-COVID!
There is no point worrying about eating healthily in these places. Food at roadhouses invariably comprises blini, piroshki, pelmeni, pastries, sausages and of course the ubiquitous borsch. And as always, thick slices of substantial dry bread. It is however, amazing just how delicious it tastes after a long drive through the extreme cold and anyway, a rare excuse to eat fried and rich food.
We settled for blini with cottage cheese, and borsch with bread. An ice cream was a welcome "breakfast dessert" as was - I am ashamed to admit - a bottle of Coca Cola. But who was complaining? It was tasty and filling food. In the middle of really, nowhere.....
A Historical Glimpse of the Road of Bones "There are Ghosts Along this Road..."
The countryside changed abruptly from sparse larch taiga plains to splendid mountainous scenery as we headed out of Teply Klyuch and east toward the Oymyakonskiy Ulus. The vistas from the road were nothing short of stunning; majestic snow covered mountains of the Sette-Daban Ranges rising steeply from what optically appeared to be just at the end of our road. It was we realised, the first time we had seen mountainous countryside since the beginning of our Anabarskiy journey. Here is a video of what we were seeing: https://youtu.be/UghbzCVxhcY
About ten minutes into our drive, Yura slowly turning his head, in perfect English murmured quietly "You know, there are many ghosts along this road....". We knew exactly what he was saying. Although we had been travelling along the Kolyma Highway for some time, we were now travelling on the gulag constructed highway, notorious for its gruesome history and not known as the Road of Bones without reason.
There is however, some conjecture about the origin of the name. Some sources insist that the road was actually built on the bones of the prisoners who died in the forced labour road construction. Others such as Eugene, guide and gulag historian who took us on our tour of the Kolyma district in 2017, was of the opinion that the road had not been constructed over the bodies. Rather they had died along the route. None were buried. They were left where they died to freeze then rot. Nevertheless, the very name resonates with the misery and cruelty of some of Russia's darkest days where tens of thousands - perhaps millions - of people died during the road works and then the mining processes. Many were tortured or executed.
"The prisoners, hacking their way through insect-infested summer swamps and winter ice fields, brought the road, and the road then brought more prisoners, delivering a torrent of slave labour to the gold mines and prison camps of Kolyma, the most frigid and deadly outpost of Stalin's gulag" (Andrew Higgins, The New York Times, November 2020)
The Road of Bones began construction in 1932 during the Soviet regime of Josef Stalin under the Dalstroy directorate, with work continuing with the use of gulag labour until 1953, the year of Stalin's death. Initially, the purpose of the road was to move legions of prisoners through the area to their camps; a one-way journey for most. Camps in this area later mined and processed tin, gold, uranium in what became the most frigid and deadly outpost of Stalin's gulag system.
Colin Thubron in his book "In Siberia" describes the Kolyma gulag as living hell: "Within living memory this emptiness (Kolyma) had become a continent of death camps.... fed every year by sea with tens of thousand of prisoners, mostly innocent. Where they landed they built a port, then the city of Magadan, then the road to the mines where they perished. At first the convicts were kulaks* or criminals, then as Stalin's paranoia heightened - imagined saboteurs and counter revolutionaries from every class: party officials, soldiers, doctors, teachers, artists...
They died in miner's tunnels from falling rocks and snapped lift cables, from ammonal fumes and silicosis, from scurvy and high blood pressure, spitting up blood and lung tissue. In winter, when steam-hoses melted the gold bearing sand, they wheeled slag from hot panning sheds into temperatures as low as minus 60 F, and were dead of pneumonia or meningitis within a month. In less than ten years, Kolyma was producing one third of the world's gold. Every kilogram it has been computed, cost a human life. But the numbers are in fact unknown. They have been guessed at around two million..."
We had decided on this trip not to visit any of the old gulag sites en route. We had seen enough in the Kolyma district of Magadan. And we had also visited some of the gulag sites of Pevek in far northern Chukotka and in Providenyia on the Chukotkan Bering Coast. You absorb the wretchedness. All were "natural" prisons. Anyone who escaped was either shot or soon perished from the terrible conditions.
Many of the camps were left virtually as they were. Parts of old barracks and barbed wire scattered with prisoner's shoes, clothing, cooking utensils, old food cans, and even spent bullets shells had become living museums, silent witnesses to a terrible past. The experience was important. But too intense. No, there was no way we wanted to view any more gulag sites.
* Kulaks were independent farmers who emerged from peasantry and became wealthy following the 1906 Stolypin reforms - government initiatives for farmers to become independent landholders. The term Kulak was broadened following the Revolution to include any farmer who resisted Soviet collectivisation. Stalin labelled them as "enemies of the State“ and ordered their liquidation.
Over the Sette-Daban Ranges and Toward Oymyakonskiy Ulus
The Kolyma Highway was in surprisingly good condition. Although it was a gravel based road, it was relatively wide, well graded and very well maintained. For the next two hours, we enjoyed a relaxing journey winding through the beautiful Sette-Daban mountainous countryside; Yura's lovely Yakut music making for a very comfortable trip.
On our mid-winter drive, most of the streams and rivers were totally frozen over. But every now and then Yura would point out a free running spring or unfrozen pond; evidence of underlying geomorphic activity and thermal springs - a bizarre phenomenon in these icy regions where the average temperature in winter is minus 50 C! We were however, blessed with fine and sunny weather - as we were for almost all our trip in Anabarskiy and Oymyakonskiy.
During our trip, we passed a number of small villages; tiny roadhouses and signage the only indication of a settlement. Or indeed of any life. There were very few trucks and virtually no cars. And as far as we could see, there appeared to be no animal tracks, animals or even many birds. The occasional owl fluttered past, obviously not at all perturbed by the sunny daylight conditions. Perhaps Arctic owls don't need to be nocturnal as surely the only time a rodent would be able to appear outside its burrow would be in the relative "warmth" of daytime temperatures?
Yura pointed out some beautiful white breasted birds he called Куропатка or "Kuropatka". Being Australian, we had no idea what the translation was. "They are good eating" said Yura. They were indeed partridges. Somehow eating partridge sounded a bit like eating chicken hearts. Yes, a rather shameful snobbish, first world country attitude to food. We were told once by a Greek fisherman that the problem with modern Australians is that "they have never been hungry". And looking at his catch of pippies (clams), I'm sure he was right.
As we approached one of the mountain passes, to our surprise a push bike cyclist was battling, loaded with an enormous amount of baggage, up one of the steep inclines. This was crazy. After all, even on a sunny day the outside temperature would have been no more than minus 30 C.
Yura however, told us that the Kolyma Highway was very attractive for cyclists and more particularly, motorcyclists. Apparently, the journey along the Road of Bones from Yakutsk to Magadan had become very popular with cycle enthusiasts following a round-the-world motorcycle journey in 2004 which was later made into a hit television series and movie called "The Long Way Round".
The trip by bike has been accomplished many times. But it sure isn't for the faint-hearted. One person, Yura told us, recently suffered badly frozen hands during the journey. From Yura's charades and hand gestures, and my rough translation, it appeared the bike rider had to have one of his hands amputated.... It made our comfortable car trip look pretty tame.
As he told us the story, once again I was reminded of just how deceptive the climate is here. I looked at Yura wearing nothing on his top than a brief singlet - and there we were wearing just thin t-shirts over equally thin trekking trousers. But as for our Anabarskiy trip drivers, he did have a super heavy coat draped over the back of his car seat, all positioned and ready to slip on immediately if need be.
Unlike local Russian people however, it takes us forever to find, let alone get into our outdoor clothing. And recalling our sudden urgent need to abandon our vehicle on our recent trip from Yuryung-Khaya to Saskylakh, I reminded myself to keep my large down coat and padded trousers handy. Very handy. You just never know in this extreme climate.
It is well to know that in these freezing Arctic conditions and without heating from the motor vehicle engine, it takes just twenty minutes for the temperature within a car and outside to equilibrate. If a person is not properly dressed for the cold, in temperatures around minus 50 C, hypothermia can begin to occur within five to seven minutes; the onset of which is exacerbated if the body is wet from rain or even perspiration. Temperatures around minus 50 C (after all it is the average winter temperature for this region) are not uncommon and not surprisingly an accident or breakdown with a stalled motor can become lethal in a very short time.
In fact, such is the danger of people dying from hypothermia, Russian authorities have made it illegal for drivers to pass a stranded car without stopping to see if assistance is required. We certainly had observed this many times, with all our drivers stopping if they spotted an accident or even a stopped vehicle, no matter how old the accident or breakdown scene appeared.
Our travel agent Ed had always been concerned about the level of warmth of our outside clothing. As it is impossible to source this quality of clothing from Australia, we bought most of it from Canada and the US. But it still did not please the meticulous, safety conscious Ed. While it was fine if we were not doing a lot of outdoor activity, in Ed's opinion it certainly was not good enough for being exposed to extreme cold for long periods of time. Furthermore, he was always emphatic that we shouldn't dress in our outdoor clothing too early in case we began to sweat. So many issues for us naive warm climate people to consider. And come to think of it, Alan had already suffered frost bite on two occasions....
But oh god, just where had we packed those padded trousers? I was so sure I had them closeby.....
As if on cue, the sun disappeared behind large rolling clouds. And in keeping with the sudden dimness of the stark environment, we came across an old gulag built wooden bridge forging a frozen river.
We had seen plenty of gulag relics during our travels in Chukotka and Magadan. They were always sobering sights; solemn reminders of a horrific past. We were reminded of terrible stories where the bridges were tested for strength by prison authorities driving over the top of them in tanks; the prisoners being made to stay underneath during the process. Surely the most inhumane means of quality control one could ever imagine....
Within a short distance, a road sign indicated a dangerous area for drivers. Was I having some sort of premonition I wondered? Just around the corner from the sign, a large truck prime mover lay tipped over on its side. Fortunately, it appeared the accident had happened some time ago as the truck trailer had been salvaged, waiting for towing. A fit looking man, presumably the driver beckoned us on. We were relieved not to have witnessed a more tragic scene.
Just outside of the Oymyakonskiy border, we rapidly climbed altitude up to some 1,200 m. The temperature dropped significantly with the vegetation completely encapsulated in thick ice cream snow. Patches of blue ice had formed on the road making for a slippery, deadly surface.
The scenery however, was breathtakingly beautiful, reminding us of several places on our Anarbarskiy trip where the taiga was no more than a ghostly chess board setting of agonisingly tortured figures. There was no sign of any other type of life. Again, we could well have been on another planet. Here is a video of our journey: https://youtu.be/dHhjlTJe_Zw
The inside of our windows froze over; a dead giveaway of frigid outside conditions. The temperature Yura thought, may have been close to minus 45 C.
INTO OMYAKONSKIY ULUS
Welcome to Kafe Kuba: The Most Remote Cafe in the World!
And soon after, we entered the Oymyakonskiy Ulus; a large handsome sign on a bridge welcoming us to the region. In hindsight, it was a pity that it didn't announce that we were just entering a new time zone, an hour ahead of Yakutsk.....
Kafe Kuba was our next stop and an opportunity for Yura to rest and for all of us to enjoy some lunch. Often referred to as "the most remote cafe in the world", this tiny roadhouse, seemingly constructed from a number of fused shipping containers, is the only place to buy food and fuel for some hundreds of kilometers. It is 750 km east of Yakutsk and about half way between Yakutsk and Magadan.
You may well think that the name, like the Kafe Alyaska, is somehow connected to the country of Cuba. This was especially so for us as below the cafe name, was a bizarre painting of an ocean complete with sea birds and palm trees.... But it isn't. In fact there is no relationship whatsoever. Yura told us that the name is derived from a local abandoned village called Kyubeme (also known as Kubama). Locals had shortened the name to Kuba and hence the name of the cafe!
Modest little Kafe Kuba was really fascinating. The entrance to the cafe which was covered in travel stickers, bore a large sign saying something like "Entry with Food will be Charged 200 Rubles". And who could argue with that? Another poster advertised Oymyakon Tours in both Russian and English. Interestingly, the cafe had Wi-Fi internet. We were curious also that it housed a satellite phone; vital here where there is very weak to no mobile coverage. For the remotest cafe in the world, Kafe Kuba was surprisingly up-market!
Housing only four tables, the cafe was cosy, spotlessly clean and served a range of simple but tasty homestyle food items. We dined on piroshki and carrot salad while Yura enjoyed meat pastries and a bowl of plov. A number of drivers were dining here too. None took any notice of us. They were all obviously used to foreigners.
Turn Off to Tomtor Along the Old Summer Road
We didn't ever get used to remote fuel stations. Nor did we ever get to recognise one.
And the remote snow covered Kyubeme fuel outlet at the junction of the Kolyma Highway and the road to Tomtor, was no exception. Apart from a few petrol bowsers and fuel storage tanks, the only other structure was a large tank covered in tourist stickers, which served as a payment office. Interestingly, at these far flung outposts, fuel here is paid for in advance.
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From here we turned right off the Kolyma Highway, following the old road which was once the main Road of Bones to Magadan. These days a new route takes you straight ahead, north to Ust Nera and then south-east to Magadan, bypassing some of the very worst of the old road on the other side of Oymyakon and Tomtor. Today, while the road to Tomtor is still in good condition, we understand that past Tomtor to Kadykchan - now known as the Old Summer Road - it is now abandoned and apparently in a terrible state of complete disrepair; many bridges having fallen in and the road in some places reclaimed by gushing snow fed streams in summer.
Our route toward Tomtor took us past the old village of Kyubeme. Now a forlorn, crumbling cluster of old buildings, it must have once been a thriving settlement during the Soviet gulag construction days.
On a bright, sunny yet bitterly cold afternoon, I wandered around the village gazing at the mass of abandoned buildings and absorbing the strange ambiance of yet another abandoned settlement; the walls of which must hold some intensely fascinating stories and most probably many dark hidden memories. It was highly reminiscent of the masses of abandoned gulag villages which we witnessed in Magadan and Chukotka. This is a short video of what I saw: https://youtu.be/dHhjlTJe_Zw
We Strike Trouble Crossing an Ice Road
For the next twenty kilometers or so we travelled through delightful taiga country. In the long shadow of a late afternoon, the surrounding larch and birch draped heavily with thick snow, formed pretty bridal arches along our road. Almost I thought, like a kind of special welcome into the freezing wilds of Oymyakonskiy Ulus.
Our car suddenly stopped at an ice road crossing, rudely jolting me out of my indulgent enjoyment of the forest scenery. At a frozen river junction, Yura had spotted several large oozing wet patches on the ice surface; a serious warning about the integrity of the ice surface. Tyre tracks revealed other vehicles had made their own bypass around the main route but Yura was not taking any chances. In no time he was out thumping his feet on the ice surface and inspecting the road in great detail. "But how does he know if it's safe?" I whispered to Alan.
We didn't ever find out. Perhaps it was the sound of the ice? Or perhaps it was the depth of water on the ice surface? It must just be from experience we gathered.
We remembered on our Anabarskiy tour the same problem arising on the Lena River zimnik - and Ed's rather dire warning about wet ice and his stories of cars falling through zimniki ice surfaces. Most are lucky enough to sink to the next frozen layer but if that gives way, then there is no hope for the vehicle. Or of course the hapless passengers.
Yura must have spent some twenty minutes inspecting the crossing before he attempted to drive across. Even then, we held our breath until we reached the other side. Alan and Yura were elated. The worrier I am was more concerned about our return trip in just a few days time....
By that time of course, we had realised that Yura's Toyota Ipsum was definitely not a 4WD vehicle. Not as Alan was quick to point out, it would have helped us if things had gone awry. "A heavy 4WD would have just sunk faster" said our ever pragmatic Alan.
From Agayakan to Tomtor: Evening Sets in....
As we reached Agayakan, the last rays of sunset illuminated the glorious surrounds of the frozen Agayakan River; a rich pearly pink glow softening the dense larch forests and mountains beyond. Apart from the stunning scenery, there was no village to see at Agayakan, yet another abandoned casualty of the Russian Far East.
There was not a soul to be seen on this route, not even any trucks or 4WD vehicles. And with another 90 km to drive to our destination of Tomtor, it must have been hard going for Yura who had driven almost 2,000 km during the last few days.
The last leg of our long day's drive seemed to take forever, finally arriving at the village of Tomtor on nightfall.
We shook ourselves in somewhat disbelief. We had visited so many extreme parts of the Russian Federation: the northernmost settlements of Yuryung-Khaya in the Sakha Republic and Pevek in Chukotka Okrug, the most easterly point of Cape Dezhnev just opposite Alaska, the most southerly location of Northern Ossetia-Alania in the North Caucasus - as well as probably some of the most dangerous locations in Russia of Chechnya and Dagestan....
And now in the pitch darkness of a freezing minus 45 C evening, we had reached yet another milestone - Oymyakon the coldest inhabited settlement, not only in the Russian Federation, but the entire planet.
2025-02-07