Gone Hunting Part One: "A Super Expedition"

Almaty, Kazakhstan
3/26/2012  12:00 pm


     Being in Kazakhstan has its ups and downs.  As you've read my posts, you know Almaty is gray city.  Flanked by mountains and covered by a neverending smog, Almaty can seem depressing at times.  Yet, it has its escapes and paradises not too far away.  Shymbulak, where I went to the mountains is a gorgeous place although it is packed and tends to get overcrowded by early afternoon.  But if you really want nature, in its purest and unadulterated form, you go to the Kazakh steppe.

The brushlands of Kazakhstan's Steppe

Tap for one black mana, cast Dark Ritual. Swamp!

     Perhaps, similar to the badlands of Colorado and the Dakotas, yet unique in its own fucking way, the Kazakh steppe is practically three separate ecosystems blended together.  It's part swamp, part brushland, and part desert, with lakes rivers thriving and flowing throughout the region.  There, to me at least, is nothing like it.

Rivers of ice anyone?

     I went hunting for a few days in Kazakhstan.  The trip was great - bully, I'd say - or as one of the guys I went along with said, "Super Expedition!"  My initial fears going into the trip was that everything would be lost in translation and later on I would be Cheneyed in the face.  My fears soon vanished as I got along with all of the guys on the trip and that the only thing that got Cheneyed were two empty boxes of aloe juice/nectar/water/drank.

Hey guys! Shaak (L) Azamet (C) Anwar (R)

     So, we left Almaty around 2:00 am on Thursday and arrived at our destination at some time around 11:30 am.  What was supposed to have been a four hour drive turned into nearly ten hours as our mighty vehicle, a more than twenty year old Jeep Cherokee Laredo constantly broke down due to radiator issues and the vehicle itself getting stuck in mud - talk about rolling in the deep.  When we finally arrived to the ranch, we were greeted by the family that was hosting us.  They split their house into two, one part for themselves while the other is rented out by people like us trying to enjoy a few days in the wild going hunting, fishing, doing whatever.

Photo-Op while the radiator cools down. Zhenet in the center,
flanked by Shaak (L) and Anwar, the driver (R)

     After lunch, we settled down our belongings and got ready for the first hunt of the day.  Our target: ducks on ducks on ducks.  After gearing up in nearly thigh high waterproof boots, hunting vests, stocking enough ammunition for our three shotguns and, bringing a bottle of vodka and some juice, we set out with our guide to go shoot some ducks.  As we piled into the car driving the Kazakh steppe in search of suitable duck hunting terrain, I admit I still did not feel completely comfortable with the hunting situation.  Yet as we got closer to the hunting grounds, I was ready to make a good time out of it all.  And then the car got stuck in the mud for what seemed to be the twelfth time since we left Almaty.

Azamet, our guide, leads the pack. Azamet, not
our guide, carries the vodka. I hold the rear.

    We disembarked from the Jeep, intent on shooting down some duck.  Through the swamps and the thick brush we trotted, aiming high and missing out on the action - where the car got stuck left us halfway in between where we wanted to be.  In between what seemed like forced marches by our guide, Azamet, who shared the same name as one of my hunting companions, we indulged in target practice and vodka.  The land was barren of civilization except for the occasional dirt road we stumbled upon and empty shotgun shells from previous hunting trips.




     After hours of walking and and waiting, attempting to ambush our winged friends, we yielded nothing.  By three pm we took a break and re-grouped, figuring out where to go next.  After some rest and plenty of vodka to go around we resumed our march through the marshlands through still icy waters and mud as deep one's shins.  I was pretty drained at that point - having not slept the night before and not sleeping well during the ride to the hunting grounds.  At this point, albeit the alcohol did not help, I decided to take a nap under the wonderful Kazakh sun.

We hunting! Well, I'm walking enjoying the view as Zhenet lugs 

the ammunition for our first hunt.  Anwar sallies forth with the
double barrel shotgun.  We're actually slowed down because of
the cold water and thick mud.  We eventually got separated from
both Azamets as they know the terrain better than we did.

We regrouped. This was before my lovely nap.

Anwar passed out in some bushes and we're all
looking out before we shoot some more.

In tall grass without any

Pokemon.  Help?

     What happened one hour later - well you could imagine.  I missed out on some action and I woke up looking like a crab with what has been the worst headache in my life.  Azamet, our guide, shot down and killed two ducks; our guys, not a single bird.  After deciding to call it a day, we retreated back to the Jeep only to find it stuck deeper in mud.  To no avail, after an hour of doing what we could to get the car out from being stuck - we failed.  With no cellphone service to call anyone and the cold steppe winds of Kazakhstan approaching, we grudgingly abandoned the Jeep as the sun set on the steppes.

Here I pose with Anwar's kill after we abandoned the Jeep to head
back to the cabin before dark.

I Cheneyed the Aloe Vera juice box.

     As we trekked back to the cabin, we cut through the swamp and brush lands with renewed energy and more vodka.  We were intent on arriving back at the cabin before the sun set, before the bitter winds and the wolves came out.  It was at this point where I witnessed our guide's accuracy with a rifle as we threw an empty bottle of vodka in the air and he blew through it in one shot.  It was this shot that alerted some ducks in the area and allowed another member of our hunting group to shoot down one of those ducks.  Luckily, we reached a point where we were able to get cellphone reception and someone picked us up halfway.  If only we knew that this occurrence would foreshadow what was to come two days later.

Azamet, our guide, goes for the kill.
We all watch.

One of his many kills - empty bottles of vodka.  Not to forget two

of the three ducks our party killed in our foray.

     To pick us up came Azamet's father and their good friend Dmitriy Petrukhin, the world traveler, hunter and explorer.  As we arrived back at the cabin, we were fortunate to have dinner cooked for us - macaroni and lamb.  We ate well after having such a long day.  Although a few minutes into dinner, my headache turned into massive throbbing and I was forced to retire early for the evening...

The sun sets on a barren yet naturally beautiful land.