Along the south shore of Issyk Kul, near the village of Barskoon (Барскон), the single road that hugs the perimeter of the lake splits off to the left. This was once a Silk Road shortcut, providing access over a towering mountain pass into China. Now the road is largely maintained by Canada.
The Kumtor Gold Mine (operated by a Canadian mining company) sits at 4,000 meters above sea level on a mountain plateau, only reachable by the abovementioned road. My traveling companions and I had no interest in the gold mine itself, but a decently maintained trucking route into the elusive far reaches of these mountains seemed like a guaranteed scenic detour on our meandering eastern Kyrgyzstan drive. Why should a gold mine be allowed to spoil all those dramatic mountainous landscapes for everyone else?
The road is closed to the public, but like most things in Kyrgyzstan that are closed to the public, you can enter anyway if you have some extra cash for the guard on duty and are competent at negotiating in Russian. So we weaseled our way in. It was a special occasion, after all: Our last trip in Central Asia for a very long time.
The road heads up into the mountains via a tight series of switchbacks. The road is paved and fairly wide, but there are seldom guard rails. Every so often, there is a landing where mining trucks can safely pass each other, and that’s where you’ll get out to take photos of the plunging rock walls surrounding the valley.
Eventually, the road emerges onto a marshy plateau sprinkled with small clear lakes. A handful of people seem to live up here but there are no visible settlements; Just miles of grassland hemmed in by snow-capped peaks, now considerably less towering. We did feel like we might be pushing our luck to continue too close to actual mining operations, so we headed back down from there, past stunning cliffs and fields of grazing horses, back to Issyk Kul.