A conservationist might say that the Kyrgyzstan Mountains are taking back what is justly theirs. The Soviets were never enthusiasts for the minimum impact wilderness experience. In fact, they were downright slobs. From a wilderness esthetic, the Tien-Shan Mountains are better off for the Soviet collapse. Alpine meadows and blue glaciers have reemerged in Kyrgyzstan as the winds have sent high altitude junkyards down the valleys and back into city streets.

It is difficult, though, not to feel a tinge of nostalgia, even a sense of regret for what once was and is now lost. These snow-capped peaks, dozens rising above 6,000 meters, were once the pride of Soviet alpine climbing. Cities from Tomsk to Tallin had their own mountain clubs and republics their own elite teams that made annual pilgrimages to Kyrgyzstan’s high-altitude base camps. Alpinists from around the world, not just Soviet alpinists, were esteemed as heroes, equal in stature to soccer and hockey stars. Kyrgyzstan was the home of many Soviet international "friendlies," where Eastern Bloc greats shared the stage with the best West European and American climbers. Names like Lowe, Barber and Messner were well known here long before Everest-fever brought them recognition in the United States.

Today’s mountain culture has lost the sparkle of the Soviet era. Nikolai Gutnik, a Bishkek geologist whose love for the high peaks will keep him firmly rooted in Kyrgyzstan, unlike the many departing Russians, recalls a period from 1993 to 1997 when only a handful of local alpinists would head into the mountains. In a time when most people were struggling simply to feed their families, Nikolai observes, "spending US $50 dollars for a pair of used mountaineering boots, or even US $2 dollars on the park entrance fee, was an unimaginable luxury."

Encouragingly though, these past few years have seen a slow return of local trekkers and climbers to the snowy peaks. But the money made serving as a guide for the trickle of western climbers and on the occasional construction job cannot match the support once offered by the state-funded Soviet alpine clubs. Today, a lucky few earn US $10-15 dollars a day as guides for the half-dozen local trekking companies which serve western climbers hoping to summit Kyrgyzstan’s coveted 7,000 meter giants: Khan Tengri, Lenina and Pobyedi. Some, like Nikolai, cover costs by moonlighting as high wire construction workers, painting and repairing Kyrgyzstan’s many bellowing smoke-stacks.

Eric McGlinchey, is a PhD candidate at Princeton University and is a IARO Research Fellow in Kyrgyzstan.