Bushwhacking, vodka and cliffs

After a first attempt at blogging, Flo took the executive decision to rewrite my academic writing style into blog language through dictation in the back of a Villis on a bumpy ride to the mountains.

To get me spilling the story, Flo cornered me in the car as we began our journey to our first basecamp that Val and I had scouted on our three day backpacking trip tracing the cliffline (yeah, they’re that big!) to understand the areas to focus this project on. The places we visited and the people we met , are what Flo cajoled me into recounting from the heart rather than a scientific paper I showed her as a first draft. Flo asked what, when, where?

Stuck in a vehicle for the next couple of hours, there was no place to hide from Flo.

Here we are four people sitting in the back of a Villis heading to basecamp and I can only surrender to Flo: "We are just going to sit down, and I am going to write everything you say. Don't think, just tell me how the scouting was." - She gets out her laptop and looks at me waiting for something to happen. -

"Tell me about the places and stories that mean the most to you from the past three days, maybe you'll recount from your heart rather than that tragic scientific paper I just read as a first draft." - Meanwhile, Val can only laugh in the front of the vehicle, probably happy to not have to deal with my technical report.

Only one way out of this…

"A few days ago, Wednesday morning, we got up early and hitchhiked to the monastery. I watched Val attempting to know what he was talking about in a place where we don't speak the language. We were lucky with to get picked up quickly. We could see the monastery raising out of the woods in the valley and noticed Florence just running away on her own hike with the rest of the team". (Flo's blog to follow).

Flo without looking at me keeps on typing and tells me: "This is good stuff, keep on talking."

"It was getting warm, so we decided not to look for you guysand just get on with the scouting mission. The first section we did was in the woods, fortunately in the shade; a saving grace in the Armenian midday heat. Soon we had to veer off The Transcaucasian Trail to reach the bottom of the crags. Painfully, in order to reach the crags we had to go bushwhacking."

Val jumps right in explaining that this was my first bushwhacking experience, and as he starts laughing I return to my story.

"Just imagine, you have two people, one who has been bushwhacking before, walks a lot, and is fit. But having walked a lot just before this expedition, he isn't particularly excited about the walking. So how can you expect the other someone (who's here for the climbing) and doesn't even like walking to enjoy this. The only good thing was the shade in the woods. And it all ended when we had to swim through a sea of…"

As usual I can’t recall the right word and Val comes in our aid: "Head-high nettles!"

I go back go back to my story: "After the bushwhacking, we got out of the woods and the first thing we saw was the cliffs, it was impossible not to be amazed by the quantity of rock; the mass of it in the valley. In fact, it looms from more than half an hours drive away. Before I could marvel further, a local man started shouting at us, calling us over.

Val: "Thats exactly when we had to get through 400m of head-high stinging nettles ... "

As only few minutes have passed, it comes easier recalling the story a bit less like an instruction manual: "I was left behind, I couldn't see Val and I started screaming his name to get an idea of what direction to walk to. Once out of the nettles, I started photographing the rock-faces and the interesting features while the farmer approached Val. Neither of us can speak Armenian, but this didn't discourage the man. He talked for some time and then gave up and just showed us a water source which wasn't marked on the map. Once we refreshed we walked along this enormous crag heading to the place we would have camped. As we were walking, a vehicle with very loud radiant music asked us where we were going and then headed to the village with their 'Villis' filled with hay. Val proceeded to let me know that he wouldn't get on the back of that vehicle because it was so full we’d have to sit on top of it. Luckily enough, the same two guys headed our way a few hour later and this time they were heading in our intended direction, so they told us to hop in. It was one of the bumpiest rides I have ever been on- I'm not going to lie, Val was mildly concerned. Val started talking to them, they asked for a phone number and were incredibly excited about the camera. We sat up camp and cooked dinner."

"The following morning, we woke up early - but in typical fashion, the clouds were covering the cliffs and it wouldn't have been possible to evaluate how good the rock was. The mist lifted after we slept in, leaving late at around 8am. Walking on, there was all kinds of different scenery - this time we were walking along the river and got to this new section, where the river was derived from this waterfall that Val fell in love with, perhaps you saw it all over his Instagram story ...."

"And then we went on again - it was another huge sea of rock, of varying quality and offering many different styles of climbing. Importantly the profile of the cliff here meant some sections were in shade all day; important to any good sector."

"Now we get to encounter number three: we met the old guy who even though we were a few hundred meters away called us over - we have a different way of approaching people. Val goes immediately into conversation (or what he calls a conversation with his Armenianmade up of about 20 words (Val edit: “I definitely know more than twenty words thank you very much!”). Whilst I tend to wait, I'm interested in what is about to happen - pull out the camera and film and watch. It's not only the cliffs that are beautiful but also the hills which havetheir own aesthetic; having this person doing his job and popping out in the middle of this landscape is beautiful."

"An old farmer that lived there, a guy with a scythe, this was the one that Val didn't understand anything he was saying - something about money, but he didn't want any, the one we met after the soviet road. We were on the soviet road. We're not really sure what any of them said. Well Val claims to understand most of them."

Flo enjoys the bickering between this couple (Val and myself). Val continuesl: "I understand the topic of conversation, but I can't put the words together and engage".

Peter: "Val looks like he knows what he was talking about and the guy was very entertained by the three words that Iknew in Armenian."

"Val has been teaching me words - I learned my first word in Armenian - goodbye, but you almost never hear a tourist say it - they usually say merci (thank you)most often and walk away. He was one of the first people that you could tell was amazed by an attempt to say a few words in Armenian."

Val notes: "People really appreciated foreigners attempting to speak Armenian, people really like it!"

I go back to the story: "All the conversation we had with people eventually drifts off as we reach the limit of understanding each others language, and we just leave. Then you're back walking. Before you were happy because you had a chance to break and then you're trying to keep up with Val and his 'slow' pace because he's 'tired' from his last long walk.

This brought us into a completely different valley where we could see the south east facing cliffs, and at the risk of sounding repetitive, they were even bigger cliffs! As spectacular as the last and still brilliant looking quality of rock. As we were walking here, Val was very excited about the TCT (what he talked about a lot on this trip) and his stories of Tom, Armen, and other people he met keep coming up. We kept on walking until we get to a piped water source, where we saw a very shy child who quickly filled up his water before running away. We sat under the corner of the cliffline as they switched from south to east facing. Thats when Val explained what Hogweed was and the burns it can cause - I then became paranoid."

Sidenote: Hogweed is a plant found in Armenia, similar to the classic English Cow Slip, but with unpleasant consequences. The resin from the leaves, when rubbed on the skin and baked by the sun result in boils. The answer - don't touch it!

"Here we get a chance to filter some water and take photos of another spectacular wall. We were very tired and didn't want to start walking - it was 14:30, the hottest time of the day. We’d been lucky and spent the hottest hours until then in the woods. The rest of this day was just more walking."

"More walking…"

"The cliffs were beautiful, but not AS interesting or beautiful. So what was more interesting for the rest of the day were the encounters… alternated with more walking."

Peter having his first cup of Armenian coffee.

"There was this old man at the bottom of the East facing cliffs, he invited us in for coffee; my first Armenian coffee. It was great. It’s just so simple, all you need is a small pan, which you put the coffee in and boil the water and it doesn't need complicated filters: the coffee just sits at the bottom. This old man started talking to Val about the existence of this hidden chapel in the woods by Ijevan."

Val: "There's this story I’ve heard for the last couple of years that there’s this old caravanserai or monastery sort of thing embedded in the forest nearby. I have gone out to look for it a couple of times as have others, and this old man just causally said there's this old thing down there in the forest."

Peter: "Where the man pointed, was way down in the valley so we didn’t get to visit and nor were we capable of asking the exact directions to it.

Having got the hang of dictating to Flo, I continue: "So much for letting all my thoughts flow freely, there are interruptions nonstop. Back to the scouting.Unfortunately the coffee finished and there were no more pictures to take, so we had to start walking again. It was getting late and we had to get over a ridge to camp, so it turned into an endless slog to a pass, just one foot after another. Then finally the ridge, and into the next valley to camp. Around 18:00 we got over the pass, we checked the phone one last time as there wouldn't be signal on the other side of the valley and then headed down, looking for a water source."

Val: "The maps here are actually pretty good, but sometimes, your confidence is misplaced in OpenStreetMap, you're believing you're going to set up camp, get water, go to sleep. Alas, the cattle had muddied the water pipe and stopped the flow of water"

Peter: "Val looked at meand said I wouldn't drink there, so we kept on walking and luckily found a very faint stream and the had a lovely sunset supper, consisting of a Val special:

Three packs of ramen each;
Add all the ramen spices;
Add some burger sauce, unfortunately you can only buy in the small packet - so cannot have a lot (both were very disappointed it wasn't enough)
Add salami"

Val: "And then we went to sleep. And then what happens every night - Peter snores a lot.”

Peter: "Val picks out where to pitchthe tent, both nights Val made sure he was sleeping slightly downhill in respect to me ... the reality was, gravity happened, twice (per night).

Flo: "Although some might suspect that you (Peter) were making a move…".

Peter: "We woke up the following morning and he very politely brought up the problem of me having his head on his sleeping mat. He had a very British attitude, he gently said “Peter, your head was right next to mine”, and didn't have to add anymore to it.

Things in the morning at this point were in a rhythm, but I don't like porridge. So I had a fist of gummy bears and crumbled nuts in honey to make the porridge edible. This was going to be the big day, it was a very long walk in the direction of a steep pass. But then we noticed a weakness in the cliffs and saw this gully, we were so lucky - it helped us cut 4km. Finally, after two days trying to keep up, I powered past Val on this steep steep ground. We got to the pass and noticed the rock was very different, it was much smoother, there were all these crack weaknesses that could be used for protection. We didn't know what rock it was, so we collected samples and took pictures so we could ask people opinions on our return.

Afterwards, we got to the top and began our walk back along the top of the cliffline we had spent the last couple of days tracing. The idea was that by walking along the top we could get an idea where we could safely abseil down and build anchors. We'd been walking around and bumped into this very skinny dog with red eyes that had been left on its own to care for the cows on the mountainside. Leave the cows alone and the dog would leave us alone. The same cliffs looked very different seen from the sides, you could visualise new routes more clearly. We kept on going and kept on taking pictures (and again every picture was just an excuse to take a break)"

Then we bumped into three men, one didn't say much, stood in the corner smoking, the other two were so happy and welcoming. Val kept saying ‘”Che, merci” and pointing at the watch and saying we were late. The two guys continued to bid us over, we gave in. They started offering shots of vodka; over time Val has developed a tolerance but I have been drinking less and less all year. The first shot was fine, but the third began to hit. They offered pork they had just barbequed and some cheese and bread that they had made themselves".

Val: "Peter really liked everything, so they kept bringing more food to the table. The more he ate, the more vodka they kept bringing to the table. After taking some pictures with the guys, we started walking again.

Peter: "Val has deduced that about three shots of vodka is the right amount to tackle a steep ascent (take note Bristolians). After this experience Ihad to agree with him. This last bit of steep ascent, never felt so easy."

Peter: "Prior to the vodka, Val and I saw a bird in the air. We tried to tell the guys that we saw a falcon flying. The third guy was totally uninterested, living his life in the corner, the other two were very excited, for a completely different reason - they wanted to shoot the bird down and barbeque it. Whereas we thought it was a beautiful bird and had been considering how to not disturb birds nesting in the cliffs, these guys saw them as food.”

Armenian coffee being ‘cooked’ in a jazveh.

"Eventually we got to another family, the family Val knows very well; everytime he passes, he always stops to say hi. The old lady immediately recognised him. Even before Val could say no and carry on walking to get back to Dilijan in time, I had already said yes! What I didn't know is that in Armenian hospitality language, coffee means three types of cheese, some sort of cream (which Val kept on eating without stopping), a platter of fresh vegetables, and fresh tomatoes. I haven't had fresh tomatoes in ages, it was delicious. Eventually, the long awaited coffee, with some biscuits, and a chocolate that we were strictly ordered to have before finishing the coffee so it wouldn't spoil the taste at the end. At this point the lady ask Val about all of his friends that she met in the past, noted his number and asked us kindly if we were a couple…needless to say we both started shaking our heads energetically.

When we first walked in to her house I noticed a few things. It was where a photo was taken of Val from his thru-hike a few years ago, and I recognised the table which Val and the family were sat at in the picture. The second thing, I couldn't stop loving the lighting in the house. It was dark and there was just a faint ray of light coming into the room from the open door where there were chickens, pigs and cows running around and yet it was so peaceful inside. Eventually we had to transition to outside through all the busyness to get signal where we knew the rest of the group was waiting to hear from us"

We had one last stop. Val really wanted me to see the view from the top of the largest cliffs that are on the main page of the Project Armenia website. We saw them the day before from below, but we didn't realise how cool this cliff was until we were on top . As we were taking pictures, two very cool things happened.

Firstly an eagle just flew across the sky and I was very sad to not be able to take a photo, then a flock of birds flew across the sky. Regardless of how nice it was to stay there and hear about Val’s first time camping up there and when he took that sunset photo on the homepage, we had to go. From here everything just merged together, because we just had to get down as quick as possible.

The mesmerising view of the largest cliffs. We think these are around 300m tall.

The day continued without event until the point we saw four large on a farm with no farmers and at Val’s guidance we picked up stones ready to defend ourselves, luckily the dogs kept their distance. Eventually we saw the road and loads of cars passing by, I sprinted for the road so we could hitch a ride with the next car that passed by. After a few attempts, a very nice car and family from Yerevan gave usquick lift back to Dilijan.

Just in time for dinner – takeaway pizza from Kchuch"

Flo, satisfied, checks the word count and looks at Peter: "You see, was that so hard?"