How we went on a fatbike expedition to Ak-Kem at the foot of Belukha.
We had an amazing ride, saw some brutal landscapes… and even found a dead body.
Belukha is the highest peak of the Altai Mountains — a place of power and one of the most intense places I’ve ever been to. Ak-Kem is a glacier on Belukha, as well as the lake and the river flowing from it.
In summer, the Ak-Kem trail can only be done on foot. The route starts in the village of Tyungur, follows the river valley, and takes about two days: roughly 40 km with 1900 m of elevation gain.
But winter is the real deal. The “Vysotnik” tourist base prepares a snowmobile track прямо along the frozen riverbed — which is exactly what hardcore fatbikers dream about.
A perfect snowmobile road.
Our journey started in Tyungur. The evening before, we arrived at the Vysotnik base, assembled our bikes, did a short test ride on the snow track, had dinner in the restaurant, and went to sleep.
The next morning, after breakfast, we set off. The total length of the track is 39 km with 1900 m of climbing. After about 5 km of gentle ascent, the climb to the Kuzyak Pass begins, connecting Tyungur with the Ak-Kem valley. The pass isn’t technically difficult, but it’s steep — about 4 km and 500 m of elevation gain, which we mostly had to hike while pushing our bikes. Some of the strongest riders even managed to ride it in the saddle.
After that came a glorious descent into the valley — and then the real adventure began.
The remaining 25 km is a steady but constant climb along the riverbed. The snowmobile track winds through the gorge: sometimes you ride on packed snow, sometimes on wooden bridges, sometimes on frozen ice, and sometimes through slushy snow-water mix. The river never truly freezes — in some spots you can see powerful streams flowing under the track. Huge icicles hang from the cliffs on both sides. The feeling is unreal.
At first it was pure joy: sunshine and frequent photo stops. But the last 5 km were hard — the constant uphill grind takes its toll. In the end, everyone reached Ak-Kem base camp, where hot tea, dinner, and warmth were waiting for us.
The whole ascent took about 8 hours total and roughly 4 hours of actual riding time. Our strongest riders — trail-riding madman Roman Ryzhenkov and Russian downhill champion Volodya Pulyaevskiy — did it a couple of hours faster.
There were six tough fatbikers in our group and one tough woman — a hiker, who somehow climbed faster than all of us.
After spending the night at Ak-Kem, we went riding the next day. First — to Ak-Kem Lake. The lake is frozen, but water flows down from the glacier under the sun and freezes on top, so in places it feels like riding on semi-frozen water: slushy snow, ice, and water mixed together. In reality, it’s relatively safe.
This time we weren’t very lucky — the lake was covered with snow. Sometimes it’s completely clear and blue, reflecting the peaks of Belukha.
On the way back, we found the body of a man who had gone missing a few days earlier. From what we could tell, he had broken his leg in the rock fields, tried to crawl toward the base camp, but couldn’t make the last couple of kilometers and apparently froze overnight. He had also fallen from a frozen rapid, judging by the tracks.
His name was Igor. In summer, he had settled near the lake and dreamed of climbing Belukha, despite having no experience or proper equipment. He lived in an old emergency barrel shelter, survived on food given by passing tourists, and was obsessed with the ascent.
Belukha attracts people like that.
Mountain temperatures are harsh: −35°C at night, and up to +5°C in the sun during the day.
After returning to the base, we had lunch, reported the discovery to the police, and went riding in the Yarlu Valley. We rode directly along the Yarlu River until it became only partially frozen. Then we turned around and headed back.
There we also encountered “bottle ice.”
Bottle ice is extremely hard, dense, transparent ice with an emerald оттенок, typical for high mountains and frozen lakes. It gets its name from its glass-like hardness: crampons only scratch it instead of biting in, making it especially dangerous.
The studs on my Schwalbe Almighty tires had zero grip on it.
The next day, the others stayed to climb the Karatyurek Pass (3060 m). I decided that hiking wasn’t for me and it was time to return to civilization. I rode down the “dream snowmobile road” alone — box checked.
And it was incredible. Sunshine, 25 km of downhill on a winding snow track, then a climb back over Kuzyak Pass and the final descent into Tyungur.
At Vysotnik, a warm room, hot shower, and a good dinner were waiting for me.
by aeremeevs