I wanted to go from Kyzart (N of the lake, the closest village), which makes only for a single-day trek, perfect for little-luggage trip (no tent, no sleeping bag, food only for two days - there and back). However, the first day I had some (stomach) bug and was not in a shape to go even beyond the village. Besides, the weather sucked anyway...
The next day I felt better but it still took a lot of effort (the climb is only slightly over 1 km elevation gain), because of the aftereffects of my having felt sick the previous day. So for every 20 mins uphill walk I stopped and panted for additional half-an-hour.
One way or another, about half-way up I was joined by a local weirdo. He didn't appear to be mentally challenged, nor drunk; he was just a bit on the obnoxious side (and that's a serious understatement). First, he started whistling at me; then, talking in Kyrgyz. Next, he showed the money sign and decided to try and feel me. He got aroused when he touched my wallet. Then it was my bag. I thought I understood what he wanted - carry my bag for some reward.
"No, нет, джок," I tried to explain to him in every conceivable language he could possibly understand.
However, to no avail. He hung around me and every time I rested he would come over and start feeling me over. Had I had a gun, he would have been gone. Had we been in America, he would have been dead.
He continued trailing me, growing to be ever bigger nuisance. I started to get an ominous feeling (apart from the physical one from him), a premonition, but kept very passive. I did not want to give him even the smallest excuse to start a fight and just passively defended myself when he got too close. Besides, I was really tired.
Then it dawned on me... since he didn't succeed in carrying my bag, he might try and shoot for the closest yurt on the other side of the pass, at Song-Kul Lake, where he would tell them of my arrival, ask them to overcharge me, and collect his commission (as someone who brings a guest - and recommends a lodging to the tourist).
But then - why wouldn't he go faster?
Because he isn't exactly an example of fitness, that's why! Had I been properly healthy, he couldn't even think of hanging on to me. The whole (rather unpleasant) encounter wouldn't have ever taken place.
'Does he want to possibly rob me?' I continue to worry in my mind
'Not really,' I realize. He would have done it much earlier. We had been alone for quite some time already.
I am now closing on to the pass and the guy grows aggressive. His smile is of the perverse kind and he now violently grabs for my backpack. I am in no shape to overtake him uphill and I hate fighting, so after I liberate my bag from his claws I just bend down for a stone. He sees it as a challenge and bends down for a bigger one. And he stands uphill... This is turning nasty.
I have a fairly sizable knife in my backpack but lack the intention to use it. If I succeed in incapacitating him (cutting some tendons, anyone?), I still have to stay there and call the police/paramedics - meaning, no lake tonight anyway. And I don't want to even consider the other possibility.
So I do one thing that, in my experience, very few people can match me in - descending. Even in my shape I am pretty confident the guy stands virtually zero chance. I am running half-pace, and very comfortably manage my distance from him, even though he - apparently haplessly - keeps brandishing the stone. Since he is wearing slippers (indeed!), he tumbles down several times and in a few moments I get rid of him completely.
What a bandit!
On my way down I meet a father-and-son shepherd pair, but shy away from them - they might be in league with this looney - and I carry on heading back to my host family in Kyzart, the only people in about 30 km radius that I now trust.
Back "home" I ask to see the police, but am told to "wait for the brother". By the time he comes, it's too late to go anywhere. Besides, the dinner's ready and for the time being the affair is pretty much forgotten.
I do get a surprise the next morning, though. On my way to Bishkek in his marshrutka he tells me that he spoke to some village elders who told him I should have gone to the local милиция (police) the very first thing. Since I am a tourist, a foreigner, they would have immediately set off with me to the mountains in search of this would-be pirate. 'Well, thank you for validating my primary concerns,' I think to myself, and continue dreaming of riding a (police) horse into the sunset all the way to the Song-Kul Lake...
