After our last breakfast at Yaylalar, Ibrahim, the fair Nello and I were given a lift up the concrete road to Olgunlar, the start of our crossing of the Kaçkar Dağlari. Our baggage had headed off for a long and circuitous route by road to Yukari Kavron, our destination on the north side of the ranges, while we took the shorter and harder route on foot. We set off at 6am, following the rushing stream northwards up the Dibe Valley, before climbing steeply up to an old mule track. The temperature was crisp as we followed the track more gently upwards, still in the early morning shadows of the eastern side of the valley.

After a while, the valley curved to the west and, soon, we were back in bright sunlight, the morning rays warming our backs as we walked through thickets of young raspberry canes. A little later, we arrived at the roofless low stone walled buildings of Dibe Yaylasi, another seasonally occupied summer grazing spot. We wandered through the nettle infested buildings to a spring on the far side. It was a good place to stop and top up with water, as it would be the last spring on our crossing.

Leaving the village, we climbed steeply past a series of impressive cascades that tumbled down through a narrowing of the valley – the roar of rushing water demonstrating the power of these mountain streams, fat with melted snow. The valley now resumed its northerly direction and opened out to a wide green grassland, backed by the snowcapped rugged peaks of the main Kaçkar Range. 

It was pleasant walking quietly, through this landscape, the only sound the stream below and the soft crunch of our feet beneath us. The valley was a magnificent natural Turkish carpet - a rich tapestry of different shades of green, knotted with threads of blue, purple, pink, white, yellow and orange (how is that for hyperbole!). Not far from the Duperdüzü campsite, we left the valley floor to start a steep climb up its flower-speckled eastern flank – the serious climb to Naletleme Pass had begun.  

After a climb, traverse and second climb, the pass came into view, a snow-tipped saddle guarded on either side by high rock walls. It was a good place for a break, time to take in the views down the lush green Dibe Valley to the blue on blue shades of the distant Güngörmez Mountains. Closer up, the rocky ramparts of the Kaçkar Range itself were even more impressive.

The final push up to the pass took us into a world of jumbled boulders – richly patterned and coloured in shades of brown, tan, grey and pink, and spattered with yellow-green lichens. We clinked across this boulderscape to reach a series of snow drifts that took us across a flat area to just below the pass itself. One last steep climb up the rock face and we were there at 3225m Nalatleme Pass, 1100m higher and 3½ hours after setting out. An icy wind whipped across the saddle, so we took shelter behind a low circular rock wall to recover lost energy and take in the views that had just appeared over the northern side of the range.

View from Naletleme Pass of the 3430m rock pyramid guarding it

To our left, a long ridgeline of snow-tipped green mountains, beyond green hills and valleys heading off into the distance, and immediately in front, a barren landscape of rocky scree. This was our path down.

We followed Ibrahim down a winding mule track that took us quickly lower. Passing a small tarn, vegetation started colonising the rocks with semi-prostrate white-flowering rhododendrons and clumps of buttercups breaking up the monotony of stone. As we dropped below the tarn, the valley beneath us opened out – to the east, we overlooked the dark waters of Karadeniz Gölü at the head of a long green glacial valley, while to our west in a small cirque lay another still tarn, directly beneath the dark rock wall of 3404m Nalatleme Tepe. This tarn-dotted rocky landscape was stunning and we stopped for a while to take it all in.

One of the things that we noticed was that we had now dropped well below the ridgeline that formed our onward route - another climb was due! Ibrahim left the mule track, to pick up a faint path marked by the occasional splash of red paint, which took us rock-hopping past the tarn and up toward the ridge. Suddenly, we found ourselves on knobbly granite boulders – having crossed some form of sharp geological boundary. The slabs of granite provided a sort of natural staircase, making the ascent of the ridge easier. The granite staircase passed a steep green wall carpeted with rhododendrons to bring us over the top.

We were greeted with one of the most spectacular alpine settings we have seen. In front lay a wide green bowl with an almost circular glacial lake. Framing it was the length of the Kaçkar Dağlari, from the tower of Nalatleme Tepe, guardian of the pass, past a series of dark rocky peaks to the snow-dappled black shape of Kaçkar itself.

We had also reached a point where the remaining route to Yukari Kavron was a simple one – no point for Ibrahim to walk down there and then head all the way back to Yaylalar, so we convinced him to head on back now and save himself a few hours of walking. He had been an excellent guide, even though he only had a few words of English and we even less of Turkish.

The fair Nello and I sat down in this magnificent setting to eat an early lunch and just let it seep into our souls. For an hour we were alone in the Kaçkar – time to reflect on its beauty, watch the clouds drifting by, admire the reflections in the lake surface, take time to sit and watch a tadpole wriggling by in the cold water – it was the best hour of our time here. However, magic moments have an end, and loud voices coming from over the horizon signalled the end of ours.  A large group of trekkers appeared from Yukari Kavron and the stillness was broken - probably just as well, as the clouds had begun to take a greyish hue.

We got up and headed off down the long valley to the village. Looking back, the mountains were taking on a menacing dark look and the sky was filling with even darker cloud. As we approached the village, low cloud began to drift up the valley from below and not long after we arrived, a thick mist settled in to obscure the views. We had been very lucky to have had that time at the lake.

We checked into our pension to discover our bags (and change of clothes) were still on the way by car, so we climbed into bed and pulled on a blanket for a well-earned siesta. The storm broke with a vengeance half an hour later, peals of thunder echoed up the valley and sheets of rain bucketed down as the Kaçkar flexed its muscles. We were warm and snug, and quietly thanked the people at Yaylalar for getting us started so early. It had been a spectacular crossing and to beat the bad weather in was a bonus.

The pension at Yukari Kavron had a large café with potbelly fire. It was the meeting place for guides and locals and, once our bags arrived and we had showered and cleaned up, it was a pleasant place to pass away the time - getting cleaned up by the fair Nello in chess or just engaging in her favourite past-time – people watching.

Foggy day in Yukari Kavron

The dense fog that had crept up the mountain valleys and engulfed us the previous night was still there when we woke up.  A couple of patches of blue sky, a view up the valley, some rays of sunshine all offered promise of better things, but ultimately the fog settled in for the day with varying degrees of visibility from misty to pea-soup.

It was not a day to be out trekking in the Kaçkar mountains. The plan for the day had been to walk up the broad U-shaped Kavron Valley to a small glacial lake and then walk down again and, truth be known, we had decided to have a rest day instead. Five days of big 1000m climbs had worn us out and we needed a recharge, so we weren’t too disappointed to be house-bound.

The fog lasted 30 hours, which meant that we woke to clear blue skies for our last trek in Turkey – what a relief. With our guide, Mehmet, leading the way, we headed out of Yukari Kavron. There was no time for warming up, it was straight up the steep grassy slopes of the long ridge jutting out to the north from the Kaçkar massif.

“Yavaş, yavaş” (slowly, slowly) was the rule for the climb, as Mehmet led us on a zig-zagging ascent across the flower-speckled alpine meadow – the subtly sweet scent of yellow and white pea flowers wafting by.

Looking back over the Kavron Valley toward the Bulut and Kaçkar Mountains

As we climbed, more and more of the main range became visible until we were treated to a vaste panorama of the Kaçkar Dağlari, Bulut Dağlari and Altiparmak Dağlari, the three main mountain ranges – a breathtaking view. One more upward push took us to the remnants of a long cornice and the crest of the ridge at just over 3000m.

We straddled the ridge to see for the first time the valleys and mountains to the west and contoured the drier slope across fileds of short herb and jumbles of granite boulders. To the north, we could see a distant sea of cloud hanging over the lower valleys – the cloud of yesterday had not dissipated, it had merely retreated.

A long drift on the pass - with views over the distant Altiparmak and Bulut Mountains

Soon we came to a high saddle, where once again we could see the 3500m peaks of Altiparmak and Hizarkapi. We were entering the region known as the Samistal Plateau and the descent was about to begin.

We headed down a broad grassy bowl to enter a narrow valley that curved away to the west. A small stream babbled its way down the valley, its damp course marked by a ribbon of lush green herbs and mosses in the drier green of the meadow. It was nice to walk by a stream that didn’t shout at you. With no rock walls and little remaining snow, this ridge was a gentler variant of the Kaçkar landscapes.

The curving valley led us down to Samistal Yaylasi, one of the more substantial summer grazing villages, with houses built of large square stone blocks. It was a good place for lunch in the warm sun. On the way out, we stopped to watch an old man making butter in his house – the old ways live on in these yaylasi.

From Samistal, we picked up a footpath that took us on a long and gentle downward traverse of the south-facing wall of a bare side valley.  The valley floor dropped away quickly and soon we were high above it. Prostrate junipers were becoming more common on the slopes and different types of wildflowers began to appear, as the dark silhouettes of spruce trees became visible on the far slopes of the larger Palovit Valley ahead. The vegetation was starting to change substantially.

Soon the track followed the spur around towards the north and we found ourselves high up the slopes of the Palovit Valley, passing through groves of low spruce and dwarf birch. We were now walking along an old mule track made of large stone blocks that continued to curve around on the 2200m contour, as it crossed the northern slopes of the mountains.

View to the north from high up the sides of the Palovit Valley

The vegetation was now much lusher, with ferns, large rhododendrons sporting pink and mauve flowers, and plants that looked like they should be growing in the tropics.

Crossing the slope of the Palovit Valley on an old mule track

Pockets of warm, humid air seemed to rise up from the valley and engulf us, while to the north the far valleys were covered with a thick mixed conifer and broadleaf forest.

This route took us through a grove of spruce and then steeply down to the hamlet of Hazindak Yaylasi, straddling the ridge between the Palovit and Kavron Valley drainages on a small grassy clearing. We had descended 1000 m from the ridgeline, but our destination, Ayder, still lay another 1000m further down in the Kavron Valley.