Stolby and Stolbisty

I strap the belt of my shoulder bag around my waist, hunkering down for the steep, seven-kilometer hike to the top of the thickly forested mountain.

The trail starts as a paved road winding up a narrow canyon, foot traffic only. I pass young couples pushing babies in strollers with older children in tow. I pass senior couples, strolling hand-in-hand, taking in the fresh mountain air. I pass youths with tattoos and funky hairdos, chatting and laughing as they climb. Sometimes the hikers pass me, as I rest on a broad wooden bench by the wayside. They all offer friendly greetings.

At one point, I veer off the pedestrian road onto a wooden boardwalk that parallels the road for half a mile, pausing to read interpretative signs about the trees I might find here – fir, spruce, pine, poplar, birch – and the creatures that inhabit these dense forests – bears, wolves, lynx, badgers, chipmunks, deer.

A rest stop, outfitted with elaborate wooden play structures for children and adults, allows visitors to test their climbing and balancing skills or enjoy a bite to eat at a picnic table. The trail and rest area are free of litter, and soon I find out why. Conveniently located bear-proof bins provide receptacles for trash, and conscientious climbers not only dispose of their own refuse, but gladly pick up stray litter left behind by others.

Half way up, the road turns to gravel and becomes quite steep. Thoughtfully laid wooden steps offer me an alternate route. At the top of the climb, another rest area with a more difficult “play” structure faces a small wooden building housing a coffee shop. Inside the shop, a friendly server with a bandana on her head greets me, offering fresh crepes with a variety of fillings, vegetable soup, tea, and coffee.

I haven’t reached my final destination yet. Sated with herbal honey tea and a soup of pumpkin puree, I am now ready to ascend the rocks above. At the top of another steep staircase, emerge half a dozen “columns” – tall, broad mounds of red volcanic rocks, rising high above the dark forest. The challenge of the rocky climb and the splendid view draw me higher still.

I must keep reminding myself where I am. The complex visitor infrastructure, the impeccable trails and helpful signage, the hip coffee shop, the smiling red-faced hikers, bending down to pick up litter. I might think I was in Rocky Mountain National Park, or the Cascades in Oregon, or maybe Yosemite?

Yet I am smack in the middle of Siberia, near the geographical center of Russia. If my husband Igor and I hadn’t had to drive across half the country to get here as part of our cross-country expedition to document Russia’s nature reserves, I might not have believed it. Surrounded by the Stolby (Columns) Nature Reserve, I am just a few miles from the industrial city of Krasnoyarsk, with its one million inhabitants. Yet the air is clean, the forests are dense, the people are friendly.

As I attempt to climb the first column, aptly named Pervy (First) Stolb, I find out just how friendly the people are. A man in his mid-50s named Anatoly, who happened to be climbing nearby when he noticed a novice (me) about to take on a fairly challenging route, comes to my aid and shows me a handhold here and a footstep there, guiding me up to the top of the 80-meter high column (640 meters around at its base).

One sobering reminder that I am in Russia is the fact that people don’t use safety ropes to climb, except expert climbers, and even then only on the smoothest and most vertical rock faces. They are motivated by the guiding principle that, if you don’t feel confident enough to climb up and back down without the use of climbing aids, then that route is too challenging for you and you should find another. The theory is that fear is your best insurance, more reliable than ropes or carabiners. That hasn’t kept people from falling, however. Over the years, nearly 60 people have died on the First Stolb alone. A monument at the bottom of the trail to fallen climbers serves as a weighty forewarning.

Despite the inherent danger, the Stolby have been attracting climbers for 150 years. In fact, it was these climbing enthusiasts – known as Stolbisty – who first lobbied for protection of the sienite columns when geologists began to dismantle the shafts in the early twentieth century to build the trans-Siberian railroad and the city of Krasnoyarsk. Thanks to the Stolbisty, in 1925 the taiga forests, rock columns, and wildlife were first granted protection from logging, hunting, and quarrying, making this one of the oldest preserves in Russia. In 1944 the area won federal status, joining the countrywide zapovednik (strictly protected nature reserve) system.

Today, the Stolby Zapovednik protects over 47,000 hectares of pristine taiga and freshwater streams in the spurs of the Altai-Sayan Mountains. Only 4 percent (the “Central Columns”) of the area is open for public recreation. Access is free and residents of Krasnoyarsk and other Siberian cities take full advantage – the reserve hosts a quarter of a million visitors per year, mostly in summer and fall. Tourists from Germany, Belgium, the United States, and even South Africa also find their way to Stolby.

From the top of the First Column, sitting alongside my capable, self-proclaimed guide Anatoly, a tremendous Siberian panorama extends before me. To the north, smokestacks and multistory buildings of Krasnoyarsk stretch along the broad Yenisei River, fading into the great Siberian plains. To the south, mountain after mountain, cloaked in dark taiga forests, reach as far as the eye can see. Next to us, on a broad slab of rock perched atop the First Stolb, a family of four enjoys the view while playing… chess!

From this birds’ eye view, I can see the full array of columns – in the foreground – the Second, Third, and Fourth columns, Feathers (resembling a group of feathers standing on end), the Lion’s Gate, Grandma, Grandpa, and Granddaughter rocks. Farther on are the Great Wall of China, Takmak, and, in the distance, the Wild Columns – in the strictly protected part of the preserve.

In the week ahead, I will conquer several of the nearby columns, challenging my fear and my faith, as I grip, cling, climb, and clamber to the summits. Anatoly and other Stolbisty will reveal rocky secrets amidst the Columns – the Tsar’s Throne, the Toiletbowl, even a vertical route called Amerikanka (American Woman). I will see many of the same faces again and again, including Anatoly, who hikes here nearly every day in summer – sometimes alone, sometimes with his wife and daughter – to climb, to breathe the fresh air, to help novices like myself, and to pick up cigarette butts carelessly tossed aside by those without an understanding of the Stolby tradition.

After a full day, I scale down the First Column and descend the steep stairs, my limbs and muscles tired from unaccustomed upward exertion, my elbows and hands scratched from being used as crampons and carabiners. Other hikers begin to head down the mountain, following the steep, winding road the seven kilometers back to the car park or the bus stop.

My path, however, takes me only a short way from the coffee shop to a secluded row of cabins in the woods. My husband, wildlife photographer Igor Shpilenok, and I have the privilege of spending the week atop the mountain, to “test out” the new visitor cabins, soon to be open to the public for a small fee ($30 per person, per night for a 6-person cabin). The units are cozy and tastefully decorated, with a small kitchen, dining area, bunk beds, plus a loft that sleeps four. A short walk down from the cabins, the final touches are being made to a camping area, where visitors can set up tents on tidy platforms ($12 per night), with access to a pavilion housing a fully-equipped outdoor kitchen and fire ring.

Early one morning, Igor and I pack up our Russian-army-truck-turned-all-terrain-Winnebago and head south to the Republic of Khakassia. As the red glow of the columns in the rising sun fades into the distance, I know that I will be back. The gravitational pull of the Columns has drawn both casual hikers and die-hard climbers back time after time for generations.

I am not one to oppose the laws of nature. RL

* Columns and Columnists

More photos and information on Stolby Nature Reserve:

shpilenok.livejournal.com/192109.html

www.zapovednik-stolby.ru, www.stolby.ru