A conservationist might say that the
Kyrgyzstan Mountains are taking back what is justly theirs. The Soviets were never
enthusiasts for the minimum impact wilderness experience. In fact, they were downright
slobs. From a wilderness esthetic, the Tien-Shan Mountains are better off for the Soviet
collapse. Alpine meadows and blue glaciers have reemerged in Kyrgyzstan as the winds have
sent high altitude junkyards down the valleys and back into city streets.

It is difficult, though, not to feel a tinge of nostalgia, even a sense of regret for
what once was and is now lost. These snow-capped peaks, dozens rising above 6,000 meters,
were once the pride of Soviet alpine climbing. Cities from Tomsk to Tallin had their own
mountain clubs and republics their own elite teams that made annual pilgrimages to
Kyrgyzstan’s high-altitude base camps. Alpinists from around the world, not just
Soviet alpinists, were esteemed as heroes, equal in stature to soccer and hockey stars.
Kyrgyzstan was the home of many Soviet international "friendlies," where Eastern
Bloc greats shared the stage with the best West European and American climbers. Names like
Lowe, Barber and Messner were well known here long before Everest-fever brought them
recognition in the United States.

Today’s mountain culture has lost the sparkle of the Soviet era. Nikolai Gutnik, a
Bishkek geologist whose love for the high peaks will keep him firmly rooted in Kyrgyzstan,
unlike the many departing Russians, recalls a period from 1993 to 1997 when only a handful
of local alpinists would head into the mountains. In a time when most people were
struggling simply to feed their families, Nikolai observes, "spending US $50 dollars
for a pair of used mountaineering boots, or even US $2 dollars on the park entrance fee,
was an unimaginable luxury."

Encouragingly though, these past few years have seen a slow return of local trekkers
and climbers to the snowy peaks. But the money made serving as a guide for the trickle of
western climbers and on the occasional construction job cannot match the support once
offered by the state-funded Soviet alpine clubs. Today, a lucky few earn US $10-15 dollars
a day as guides for the half-dozen local trekking companies which serve western climbers
hoping to summit Kyrgyzstan’s coveted 7,000 meter giants: Khan Tengri, Lenina and
Pobyedi. Some, like Nikolai, cover costs by moonlighting as high wire construction
workers, painting and repairing Kyrgyzstan’s many bellowing smoke-stacks.

Eric McGlinchey, is a PhD candidate at Princeton University and is a
IARO Research Fellow in Kyrgyzstan.