Up the Creek with a paddle, we Raft the Ay River in Russia
As I’m the foreigner here my family made a full two week itinerary for Elena and myself as they didn’t want me to get bored.
I have to admit it’s a bit tricky not being able to speak Russian. But thankfully Elena’s sister Jane speaks fluent English. Jane’s husband has a good understanding and so to does mother in law so I’m not completely isolated.
The whole itinerary was Jane’s idea and it seemed to work, I’m not bored, there is so much to do in the Chelyabinsk region. I just hope I have enough time.
We were booked on a 2 day excursion rafting down the Ay River which is situated in the southern Ural Mountains, a four hour drive west from Chelyabinsk.
Departing in the late afternoon from home Elena, Mum and I caught a trolley bus to the travel agents pick up point. It’s hard to believe that these buses still work. Built in the 80’s yet looking older thy rumble through the streets next to trams and buses. There is plenty of public transport here.
Finding Jane and Maxim among the others, now gathering for the journey we count 32 people taking the trip.
Thinking that the covered trailer behind one of the Ford Transit vans was for luggage I assumed we would have plenty of room, once again don’t assume anything in Russia. That trailer held all the camping gear. As this was a participation-required tour we would be helping set up camp. All our bags had to travel with us in the van, which was fine for us, as we had packed light. But for some with massive hiking packs this wad going to be a tight squeeze. With 4 hours ahead of us we prayed for comfort stops to stretch our legs.
Leaving the gloomy weather behind as it had rained the evening before and in tow the night the day ahead for Chelyabinsk did look promising of clear sky. All we could hope for was better weather once we reached the western side of the first Ural Range.
Climbing into the hills and seeing an overturned semi truck and trailer that had got it all wrong coming down the bumpy highway
Hope our driver takes it easy as we still have a way to go. As we made our way from main highway to country road and now onto a gravel track it dawned on me, say goodbye to civilization we are in the middle of nowhere. We pull up in a clearing flanked by the Ay River guarded by dominating cliffs as a backdrop and surrounded by forests of silver birch and cedar pines we proceeded to find our perfect to pitch our tents for the night. Amazed at how fast the tents were pitched and not really wanting to sit with our guides we decided to build our own fire, as did another couple.
Searching for wood we found two huge logs, one was so big the five of us rolled it down the hill to camp. They made the best seats. With fire now blazing the timing was perfect ad we heard the call for dinner. The sun was setting as it was now 10pm we made our way to the fire. Jane produced a bottle of whiskey and coke. With fire crackling and warmth from the whiskey now swimming in my head we sat around the fire until 2am. Once the whiskey was gone it wad time for bed ad we planned to depart on the rafts at 10am the next morning, which meant packed, rafts assembled, breakfast over with and ready to go.
A restless night was had, not sure if it was the result of too much whiskey, the uneven ground, or the small mice trying to get into the tent. Tried was the feeling shared by all. Rising as I do well before the rest of the family, I ceased the opportunity to get photos of the mist surrounding the cliffs on the far side of the river. Taking photos of the camp and forest before anyone else was up gave a sense of isolation. The was a stillness in the air and nothing to hear but the faint sound of a couple of eagles circling high above the forest downstream.
Stirring up the embers of the now dormant fire and getting a flicker of flame once again, there appeared a face from another tent. Mum is like me when it comes to waking up. With few works said as body language takes over and gestures give meaning to movement. We gathered up the dirty dishes from last night and walked the shallows of the river to wash. The mist rolled back and so too did the openings of the surrounding tents. The wake up call from our leading guide roused the late sleepers, which included Elena, Jane and Maxim. The last pumps of air were placed in the rafts as the tents came down and all our equipment started to move toward the riverbank. The rafts now lay on the shallows as we were given instructions in Russian as Elena did her best to translate the relevant information.
With Elena still translating people made a dash for the rafts, it was dime to hit the road, I mean river. Moving quickly we made sure that we were all on the same raft. Getting into some form of rhythm was a headache. With Elena and I at the front and Jane behind me, Maxim took up the other rear position behind Elena. For balance this worked as Mum sat in the middle with all the gear. As for equal strength my strokes were always stronger and had us turning toward the riverbank too often making every ones life miserable. Thank god we had stops along the way to re-position and work things out. Our first stop was an hour away. We paddled hard in the shallow waters.
With the swimming over and taking on water for the workhorses, I devoured a few cucumbers from the summerhouse garden and knocked back a handful of sushki, a small hard biscuit shaped like a doughnut.
On the Ay River again and our guide planed the take a rare side trip to a dry waterfall. Normally this river has water flowing into it from the snow melts of spring, nut with such a dry summer and with the combination of a very short winter and little snow we had the opportunity to glimpse what others hadn’t seen in s few years. Seeing the rock foundation was incredible. We were left to imagine the power of the snowmelt discovering old lamps, a car tyre and old farmers shovel, all claimed by the snow.
We were not the only ones admiring the scenery. There were several painters perched throughout our journey downstream. With a stop for lunch and time for those fortunate enough to have shorts and bikinis to grab another swim it was now a two hour stint until our next rest. This was to be the hard part of the day, not because the river was any more difficult, as the river was calm with very few rapids. A kid could raft this river with ease. It was the wind that had picked up and we now had a headwind to contend with. A slow current and wind whipping at our faces it was hard work to make the bend and shelter, but as we rounded yet another bend we were faced with a quick decision. Left to the shop or right to the camp and set up. Left it was… Climbing out of the catamaran wad a relief. Clambering up the rickety makeshift steps those who chose left went.
Waiting on the steps and clicking of a few more shots before the tribe returned from the shop I got a sense of piece and solidarity out here in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. The village could have connected to a main highway just around the corner yet we felt in total isolation and it felt great to be away from the city.
With Jane and Maxim stocking up on the few supplies that we needed I was pleasantly surprised when Jane came back through the field shouting we got beer! I just hope we can survive this wilderness stuff, last night between four people we managed to down 1L of Jack Daniels.
Setting off at a quick pace on the rafts again we were on the last leg of the days rafting and heading to meet with the others who were now at the camp for the night. We arrived at the last team and thoughts of being told that we were “the last team to arrive and that we had been eliminated from the race” played in my head.
Searching for wood and setting up much quicker than last night we soon had a roaring fire that rivalled anyone else in the campground. Turing a small tree into a clothesline to dry our gear and with dinner not quite prepared we cracked into the beer. The cans here in Russia are twice the size of the cans in Australia so after a couple it’s time to head for the woods to “look for bears”.
We talked, laughed and played songs saved on my HTC phone until the battery was almost flat. Even “Rambo” our guide was impressed with our fire and had a long chat with us about Australia and how he had friends there. We felt a little sad as we were just getting used to this relaxed lifestyle and knew that tomorrow we would be heading home in the afternoon.
After a full days rafting and a stomach full of beer it wasn’t long before my head was swimming and my siting became a lying down position, soon we were all feeling the effects of the days events and were in bed a little before midnight.
There is something to be said about rising early, there is also more to be said about rising with a hangover. But with the stillness of the air the sound of a few birds and with no one else up yet I took the liberty of being the first to the river to clean my teeth and survey the camp. This was a great spot and far more picturesque than the night before. We could easily stay here for a week and not be tired of the scenery.
The day ahead was going to involve more physical activity. The plan was to visit a cave and to see a natural spring fountain. There was also to be a little less rowing than yesterday which seem not only to please me but almost everyone in the camp.
Rowing literally 500m downstream and across to the other side we reached the riverbank of what was to be out starting point to the caves, however the caves were another 500m in an upward direction.
Climbing up the steep bank and onto the goat track that lead us even higher up the cliff face we reached the point where Elena had to make a decision to either overcome her fear of claustrophobia and crawl through the 4m of tunnel or to turn back and face getting down the cliff face on her own. At this point there is nothing I can say to help her as this is a decision that Elena has to make on her own.
Deciding that she will turn back and seeing that she was disappointed in herself was hard but we as a group had to push on and get through the cave. One by one we crawled into the small opening in the side of the cliff.
There was no margin for error once we passed through the first cave and into the opening of the cliff face again. The sheer drop to the river far below was on everyone’s mind and going was tough and slow. I was amazed at Elena’s mum, she took it all in and managed with no complaints to the top of the cliff face.
Hot and with our dirt and dust from the climb showing on out clothes and faces we reached the summit. The view was breathtaking. And was the highlight of the morning. All of us taking turns getting the memory shots on our cameras and congratulating each other on a difficult climb.
Getting down was slow and steady but with only a couple of slides and landing on my arse we managed our way back to the river and Elena waiting with the rafts.
Back on the river we took it easy today. There was more of a sense of rhythm and less stress over who was doing what when it came to rowing. Working our way down the river it wasn’t long before we spied a strange phenomenon in the distance. There seemed to be a jet of water by the side of the river shooting water high into the air.
I just had to get closer and walking up to the fountain I considered what no one else was game enough to do, I stuck my face into the stream of water. BIG mistake! This water was so cold and the pressure was intense that I was a little dizzy after I pulled my head away.
This was to be our last stop on our journey, from here it was only a few kilometres to the waiting shuttle-bus and our 4 hour drive back to Chelyabinsk.
The Ay River (Russian: Ай) is a river in Bashkortostan and Chelyabinsk Oblast in Russia, a left tributary of the Ufa River. The length of the river is 549 km, the area of its drainage basin is 15,000 km². The Ay freezes up in late October – early November and remains icebound until mid-April. A city of Zlatoust is located on the Ay River.
Zlatoust was founded in 1754 due to construction of the ironworks. In 1774–1776, the workers of the plant took part in the insurrection led by Yemelyan Pugachev. In the early 19th century, Pavel Anosov made the first Russian bulat steelblades in Zlatoust. It was granted town status in 1865. The town is also known for the first cannons made of Russian steel. In 1903, the tsarist authorities brutally suppressed a strike, organized by the workers of Zlatoust. In the beginning of the 19th century, an arms factory was constructed there which began to produce sabres and swords. Famous artists Ivan Bushuyev and Ivan Boyarshinov left us unique patterns of cold steel decorated with engravings. Flying winged horse was a favorite element of many of Bushuyev’s engravings, so he was given a nickname Ivan the Wingy (Ivanko Krylatko). Since then, a pegasus was an emblem of the town. The Soviets gained control over Zlatoust in March 1918. The town was occupied by the Whites between June 1918 and July 1919. On July 13, 1919, Zlatoust was seized by the Red Army. During the Soviet period, Zlatoust became an industrial city, which specialized in metallurgy, mechanical engineering, tool making, food production, and other industries. Zlatoust is one of the centers of artistic engraving on metal in Russia. Traditionally, such engravings were done on weapons, such as knives and swords; however, during Soviet period the engraving was shifted onto decorative metal plates. Nowadays the weapon engraving is popular again.
Traditionally, Zlatoust, like the rest of the Urals region, has also been famous for its pelmeni.
We paddled hard for the last leg of our rafting experience and felt we had finally mastered the raft. We could have gone on for another few days as we were really getting into the pace of the river and the environment.
But all too soon we rounded the bend and saw the end in sight.
Digging the oars deep into the river we pushed on and landed our raft into the sandy banks for the Ay River. Our ordeal was over yet we didn’t want to leave this place. This is a must do for travellers to the region.
Soon we were loading gear back onto the trailer and tucking in for our final meal together. Mum broke out the last of the Sushki, tomatoes and Cucumbers from the summer house garden and washed down with fruit juice we change out of our swimming gear and dressed for the long journey back home.
This has been the highlight of my trips to Russia, some come for the usual tourist spots like St Petersburg and Moscow, but that to me is like going to Los Angles and New York and saying that you have been to the USA.
If you come to Russia get into the Urals and Siberia and experience the heart and soul of this vast and beautiful country. The people are friendly and welcoming, get past the language barrier, the walls are down you just got to let your guard down and experience the fun and laughter of this place.
I know that I will be back and will actively encourage others to follow in my footsteps to this place.
For those who want to raft in Russia we recommend you find someone who speaks yours and Russian languages if you are not familiar with the Russian Language. We had a wonderful time and wished we could have stayed longer…
Wan’t to do this tour? here’s the company we booked through Ay River Tour
Learn Russian Language
