Imagine five colorful little dots lost in the immensity of Kyrgyzstan's Tian Shan mountain range. That's us. Miles away from a navigable river, carrying our loaded kayaks up and over 3500 meters passes. Why? We've asked ourselves that question many times, yet none of us has a clear answer. It's also unclear when this all started. Was it when we gathered around a table and started scheming the trip? When we put on the river? Or sometime in between? One thing we can say with certainty is that it began with a common wish: paddling the Saryjaz and experiencing this place.
On paper, our team might have seemed marginal, a bunch of kayakers that didn't really know each other, all from different countries with different backgrounds, ages, cultures, and personalities. We had all the ingredients for a disastrous trip, yet we also had the best possible catalyst—shared values. Around our campfire, you wouldn't find anyone watching their GoPro lines or recounting their kayaking achievements. Instead, you would hear funny stories about trips and random encounters, animated philosophical or political debates, and some futile attempts to figure out the secrets of Dima's delicious shashlik. No one was here to be the first or to conquer the
