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Art. Utulik — r. Bhabha — stream. Left Poperechny — high-mountain camp — Porozhisty peak, 2,025 meters — lake.

Tourist — high mountain camp — r. Bhabha — Art. Utulik. The length of the route is about 40 kilometers, duration is at least three days.

For several days there was a colorful announcement hanging in the Buryatenergo lobby: “Friends, for those of you who are attracted by sky-high mountain peaks, the Vertical tourist club offers a three-day route to the Porozhisty Peak in central Khamar-Daban…”. The Naushki – Irkutsk train arrives at Utulik station around five in the morning. Our group immediately sets out on the route. After about an hour we approach the Babkha River, along which our route lies.

The country road turns into a path. The river remains to the left as you travel. Bhabha is a mountain river, replete with waterfalls and rapids, with steep banks overgrown with dwarf cedar trees and frequent waterfalls. After 10–12 kilometers, having crossed Babkha via a swing bridge, tourists come out into a picturesque clearing located at the mouth of the Left Poperechny stream.

Now the trail, quickly gaining altitude, is buried in thickets of rhododendron, dwarf, and bergenia. Altitude has a more noticeable effect. More often halts. At the border of the forest, the trail emerges into a small alpine meadow and leads to the area where the base camp is usually set up before climbing Porozhisty Peak.

We drop our backpacks and get ready to spend the night. There are 21 people in our group plus two huge dogs, who exchanged city comfort for the romance of long roads. Most of us are here for the first time. But the harsh inaccessibility of the Porozhisty peak mountain range and the rich variety of herbs of the alpine meadows equally delight both beginners and experienced tourists.

The climb to the top begins. There is a continuous sea of ​​greenery all around, going down the slopes to the ridges of the char, where even in June there are snowfields. Bergenia and shiksha are blooming, and rhododendron is blooming with golden yellow flowers. The slopes abound with small waterfalls that pierce the green meadows like silver threads.

This fabulous picture is quite difficult to convey in words; you must definitely see it for yourself. Rising higher and higher, we come to a ridge along which a barely noticeable path has been made. To the right and left, the slopes of the ridge drop steeply down. As you approach the top, the ridge sharpens even more, and you can only reach the small area one at a time.

A metal plate is attached to the tour, made of stone. It was brought here by energy tourists from Angarsk in honor of the 25th anniversary of one of the power plants in Siberia. Height - 2,025 meters. The surface of Baikal and the city of Baikalsk and the Utulik railway station located on the coast are visible.

All around there is a panorama of the central part of Khamar-Daban. In the east, in a deep gorge, is the winding ribbon of the Solzan River. In the west is the Babkha valley, and in its upper reaches is the pyramid of the peak of the same name. The hot sun rolls over the tops of the char…

After taking photos, we begin the descent to the saddle. But soon we stop in mournful silence in front of an obelisk with the inscription “… tragically died on the Porozhisty peak in August 1968.” A small bouquet of violets lies at the foot of the obelisk. From the obelisk we begin the path to the camp.

The path is blocked by a chaotic pile of stones and scree. We step onto another snowfield and roll down. Delight fills our hearts. The picture is unusual: dazzling snow and scatterings of large bright fires around.

Here is the camp. Red splashes of fire, light triangles of tents. The camp participants who remained in the camp are eagerly awaiting us. After dinner everyone gathers around the fire.

The guitar is strumming quietly, your favorite songs are playing. Today is Nadezhda Venediktova’s birthday. It’s not often that we celebrate our birthday in such unusual conditions. We went to bed late.

The next morning we hit the road again. Now it’s down. Together with the river, thundering on the rifts, we hurry to Baikal. At the end of the day we board the train.

But for a long time Khamar-Daban and Baikal did not let us go. We eagerly looked out of the windows of the fast train car taking us home. The turquoise waves of Lake Baikal splashed on the left, and the chars topped with peaked peaks rose on the right.