"Akkem breakthrough" or as it is also called - "Akkem pipe" - on the Katun river, named after the mountain village of Akkem, next to which it is located - a sacred place familiar to any tourist of the water route (see photo 14). It is a very narrow canyon, on all sides clamped by impregnable rocks, about 5 km long and a very large angle of incidence - at times the water level drops reach 10 meters, actually forming waterfalls in miniature. I know this place well - once we with Oleg floated from the village of Ust-Koks and passed it. Particular danger in this "pipe" is the so-called "meat grinders" - rocks standing right in the middle of the Katun, in which a powerful stream of this crazy river forms deep underwater rills - the so-called "pockets". We threw logs, like crazy people, into these gullies and watched in horror as it broke into pieces, completely disfigured, swam out on the other side of the rock. It was in this "meat grinder" that this pilot, who risked alone, got himself without insurance to go through this ruinous place.
I went to the cellophane convolutions and slightly unfolded it in the head area. In front of me lay a young handsome guy in a fine suit of foreign production (the dream of any waterman), on the petrified, sculptural face of which there was already no emotions and emotions - the soul - his "violin" was already very far from here, and here there was only a lifeless, No one needed "case". The fate of this unfortunate pilot on the eve of our "epochal" campaign, which will, in fact, also without any insurance, seemed to me a very bad omen.
Having registered in the KSS (leaving the rescuers a "checkpoint" for our return), on the same day we went to the German village of Ilyinka, which is in the upper Peschanaya, where we planned the beginning of our rafting.
We arrived late at night in Ilyinka, went into the nearest courtyard and asked the pretty, elderly woman where the exit to Peschanaya is located, from which, usually, the water workers start rafting. "Tomorrow is my son," she pointed to a sullen blond German about 30 years old ("A true Aryan," I thought about him then), will go there on his milk car and take you. And now for the time being settle down for the night in our yard, only do not freeze - at night we are cold. "
In this our "exclusive" in all respects, we decided to retreat from the usual rule and not take a tent with us, but only sleeping bags and a cellophane bag from the rain. Quietly located in a clearing near the house of the Germans and hiding behind a warm camel blanket, carefully taken by Oleg from the house, we immediately fell asleep with the strong sleep of the righteous.
In the morning, dawn dawned, the woman woke us up and generously treated her with fresh milk. Our "cheerful milkman", with the sullen look of the "SS punitive man", loaded the heavy milk backpacks on the "milk cart", carefully tying them to the side of the car, and did not utter a word for the whole journey. Similarly, without a word, he rudely dropped our backpacks on the ground and left without even saying goodbye. "However, the" affectionate German "was caught!" - I thought, somewhat surprised at the harsh customs of the local Nordic population.
As soon as our small, frankly speaking, the team descended to the river, we immediately lost no time in preparing the willow for the future catamaran frame. This was very difficult to do in those conditions - the willow growed on the left bank, and to get to it, it was necessary to cross the waist in the water for 15 meters in the seething stream of Peschanaya. The current was so strong that even knee-deep in the water the river was completely knocked down and did not allow it to rise. A swollen, fetid carcass of a cow swam past us, which apparently got into a similar situation and, crossing the river ford, was knocked down and carried away by a swift water flow. I had to bind myself with a climbing rope and already with the insurance of Oleg to move to that shore. In a similar way, I went back, loaded on the chin with willow branches for the future frame. Finally, the frame for the catamaran was almost ready when suddenly a loud human voice was heard from the nearby willow - we even froze in surprise. We went to these voices, and soon a very strange picture appeared before us: a large perkalevaya tent for 8 people (very expensive and scarce for that time), two rafts on wheels from KAMAZ, on which were tied with ropes, two halves split in half Kayaks. Near to all this "economy", in fair podpitii, there were 3 guys and one girl. We talked. It turned out that they were Muscovites, who frivolously, without preliminary exploration, decided to overcome the Sandy (at this time of year!) On kayaks. The trek ended very badly, without having had time to start - kayaks immediately broke on the rocks in the shallow water. Then the guys came together with the local population, who built two rafts for money and alcoholic Muscovites, but, not wanting to let
