Epic Hikes of the World ( PDFDrive )

in the smoky glow. It’s a movingly timeless scene and the next morning we return for
breakfast. Irakli has slept outside in his thick felt shepherd-gown, a garment so
solid and heavy that he can walk out of it and leave it standing. ‘The hovel’s just
for cooking,’ he explains. ‘If I stayed inside I wouldn’t hear the wolves.’
The third day’s hike starts with an unbridged river crossing. Most trekkers wade
through but we’ve heard how peak flowing waters drowned a lone Israeli trekker
here back in June. For us it’s easy – Tedo’s horses ferry us across. Dry boots prove
a big plus as we zig-zag through piles of broken slates to the bleak 11,257ft (3431m)
Atsunta Pass. An impression of desolate moonscape is accentuated by the swirling
low clouds. Yet suddenly, out of the mists appears an unlikely sight that our brains
struggle to compute: a dozen extreme cyclists carrying bicycles over their shoulders.
There’s a joyous feeling of openness as we traverse the Khidotani ridge, despite
drizzling rain that obscures views of 14,741ft (4493m) Tebulosmta. Occasional
shafts of sunlight still pierce the clouds and an absurd arc of rainbow bridges a
side valley beneath us. Bedraggled, we reach a lonely border lookout post where
kindly soldiers hand us mugs of coffee. Then, slithering on sodden grass between
towering heads of giant hogweed, we descend through the half-abandoned
farmsteads of Bakhao, making four stream crossings, one balanced on a narrow
metal beam. Finally a semblance of track leads us to the one-family hamlet of
Ardoti, where a small, totally unsigned hostel-homestay lies behind thick stone
walls incorporating runic petroglyphs.
“At Tedo’s firm grunted commands, the guarding sheepdogs fall silent,
as though hypnotised”
We’re now in Khevsureti, a fabled region whose archaic language is to
Georgian what Chaucerian English might sound like to Anglophones. The
uninhabited fortified village of Mutso rises in shattered layers above us. Some
curious erosion chimneys are followed by thickening woodlands and the spooky
‘bone houses’ of Anatori, then suddenly civilisation in the form of mystical Shatili.
Waving goodbye to Tedo, we explore Shatili’s citadel, a Game of Thrones-like
cluster of dark stone towers and shadowy gateways. Then we track down the
village’s only taxi: a popular ‘cheat’ that shaves a long day’s walk off the Omalo-
Juta trail via an undulating three-hour drive to Roshka.
KOSHKEBI TOWER HOUSES