Seminsky Pass is one of the key landmarks on the Chuya Highway. It is located at the 583rd kilometer mark and crosses the Seminsky range between the peaks of Sarlyk and Tiyakhta. The pass sits at an altitude of 1,717 meters above sea level. For many travelers, this is the first true encounter with the mountains: the air, the temperature, the character of the forest, and the very feeling of the road all change here.

For a long time, the pass was truly difficult to traverse: in winter, deep snow blocked the way, and from spring to autumn, the trails were washed out by rain and meltwater. For centuries, this place held strategic importance: ancient trade and military routes passed through here; Scythian detachments and Mongol-Tatar troops once moved across this ridge. Until the beginning of the 20th century, the path remained complex and unreliable. Only in the 1920s did the construction of a proper road begin.

The Altay people have a special relationship with mountain passes. Since ancient times, such points have been considered vital parts of the journey, and travelers would stop here to perform a small ritual to ensure a successful trip. One should ascend slowly, trying not to make noise or disturb the surrounding order: do not litter, do not break branches, and do not damage natural objects. These are considered zones of peace where spirits reside; therefore, it is important to maintain silence, avoid loud talk, and abstain from alcohol — rules that are still observed today.

The climb to the saddle takes about nine kilometers. The road gains altitude gradually, and the vegetation changes as you move: first a mixed forest, then the cedar groves. The air becomes noticeably cooler, and the outlines of the slopes appear through the trees. The descent from the pass — about eleven kilometers long — leads into a different valley with its own unique relief and climate.

At the summit stands a stela — a recognizable symbol of the Seminsky Pass. From here, you can clearly see how the road crosses a natural boundary: Northern Altay remains on one side, while Central Altay begins on the other. It is not a sharp border, but the transition is felt through the landscape and the surrounding space.

Today, the pass is a convenient place for a short stop. Here, you can get out of the car, explore the saddle of the ridge, have a snack in one of the cafes, or visit the market offering souvenirs, cedar products, and goods from Mongolia. Afterward, the road descends once more, and within minutes, both the forest view and the air temperature change. The Seminsky Pass remains behind as the first high point of the Chuya Highway and one of its most memorable sections.

Moving along the valley of the Chuya Highway, at approximately the 659th-kilometer mark, the road begins to rise noticeably — this is the start of the Chike-Taman Pass.

Its altitude is about 1,295 meters above sea level. Here, the highway climbs a spur of the Terektinsky range and is literally carved into the cliffs: the asphalt runs along a narrow ledge, and sharp turns form a classic mountain serpentine.

The ascent to Chike-Taman begins after the Ilgumeni valley. For several kilometers, the road gains altitude quite rapidly. The car traces arcs, turn after turn, and within a few minutes, you can see the valley below receding deeper and deeper. The slopes grow steeper, scree slopes appear, and through gaps in the forest, views open up to neighboring ridges and the wide bed of the Katun.

Although this pass is lower than the Seminsky, it is here that many travelers first experience a true mountain serpentine: tight sequences of turns, high cliffs, and short straight sections. From below, the highway looks almost like a vertical stripe on the slope, and only when you get closer do you realize how carefully the road is integrated into the terrain.

Today, the road surface on the pass is good, with barriers, markings, and signs installed along the way. However, the relief remains challenging, and the driver must stay alert: speed must be controlled, and on some bends, the steering wheel is constantly in motion.

An observation deck is located at the summit of Chike-Taman. There is a small parking lot, a cafe, souvenir stalls, and a memorial sign honoring the builders of the Chuya Highway. From the deck, you can walk a little higher along a path to additional viewpoints. From there, you can clearly see the loops of the serpentine, the valleys of the Bolshaya and Malaya Ilgumeni, and the lines of the old road used before the modern highway was built. This "old line" serves as a reminder that Chike-Taman was an important passage long before asphalt: merchant caravans with goods and military troops once moved along these mountain trails. Archaeologists have found traces of an ancient road near the pass used by travelers and caravanners as far back as the 10th to 12th centuries.

The old route was narrower and more dangerous: a horse track with dozens of sharp turns, which later became a single-lane highway with passing pockets. Drivers would sound their horns in advance so that oncoming cars could hide in the widenings in time. Today, fragments of this road are overgrown, but they can still be spotted on the opposite slopes if you look closely. Researchers also link this passage to the northern branch of the Great Silk Road. In the vicinity of the pass, there are even individual finds associated with military campaigns, including a detail from a chariot from the era of Tamerlane.

A stop at the pass usually doesn’t take much time. People get out of their cars to look at the road from above and below, take a few photos, and buy tea or local souvenirs. From here, you can see the Chuya Highway stretching further toward Onguday and the higher regions of Altay.

After a short pause, the journey continues. The serpentine gradually gives way to gentler sections, and it becomes clear what a remarkable stretch of road you have left behind: an expressive mountain pass where the road is meticulously woven into the complex landscape.

The village of Maly Yaloman is located on the banks of the Katun, at the confluence of the river of the same name, on one of the most expressive sections of the Chuya Highway. Here, the river, emerging from the open high-mountain steppes, encounters hard rocky spurs. It makes two sharp loops over a short distance and changes the direction of its bed by almost ninety degrees. In this bend, protected by the terrain, the village is nestled.

Maly Yaloman has existed since the 17th century. Despite the harsh appearance of the terrain, it is known as one of the most unusual agricultural spots in Gorny Altay. The village is located in a high-mountain semi-desert zone, but it was here in the mid-20th century that Siberian scientists created a large experimental industrial-type orchard. A rare microclimate has formed in the Katun valley: plenty of sun, relatively mild winters, and warm nights associated with foehn winds. These conditions proved to be suitable for horticulture.

In 1953, a fruit nursery covering more than 37 hectares was established in the vicinity of Maly Yaloman. Apples, pears, plums, and sea buckthorn were grown here, and in some years, even apricots ripened. During its years of operation, more than 120 varieties of fruit and berry crops were bred and tested. A complex irrigation system was created for the orchard — without it, farming in this arid region would have been impossible. The canals still pass directly through the village in some places today.

For several decades, the Yaloman orchards supplied fruit not only to Gorny Altay but also to other regions of Siberia. From the end of the 20th century, the farm fell into decline, the trees aged, and irrigation ceased. However, in recent years, work has begun to restore the orchards and the irrigation system, and this unique experience is once again becoming a part of the village’s life.

Maly Yaloman is a place where the steppe, the river, the road, and human labor have coexisted for several centuries. Here, it is especially clear how natural conditions shape a way of life and how people adapt to the landscape.

The Ininsky Bridge is located near the village of Inya, at the 356th-kilometer mark of the Chuya Highway, and is clearly visible from the modern road. This is an old suspension bridge over the Katun, built in 1936 and preserved today as a monument to engineering and the history of the highway.

The bridge appeared during a period of active construction on the Chuya Highway, when the ferry crossing over the Katun could no longer handle the growing traffic. The project was developed by Sergey Afanasyevich Tsaplin — a young engineer, at that time still a student, who was passionate about the theory of suspension bridges. It was here that his idea for a two-chain suspension structure was realized, a design never before used in Russia. In essence, the Ininsky Bridge became the first two-chain suspension bridge of its type in the country.

The total length of the bridge’s deck is 142 meters, with a central span over the river of approximately 100 meters. Reinforced concrete pylons, 21 meters high, were built in the form of swaying frames through which the chains are slung, anchored into plates on the riverbanks. For its time, this was a technically bold and complex structure designed for automobile traffic.

Construction was carried out under harsh conditions and almost entirely by hand. Local materials were used: the residents of Inya harvested larch wood, and the cables were twisted right on the ice of the frozen Katun. Work continued through winter and spring, day and night, and in April 1936, the bridge passed its tests — six loaded ZIS trucks drove across it simultaneously. In May of the same year, the bridge was officially opened and put into operation.

The Ininsky Bridge served until 1970, after which traffic was moved to a new reinforced concrete bridge built nearby. The old crossing was closed but not dismantled. In 1994, it was recognized as a cultural heritage site of the Russian Federation.

Today, the Ininsky Bridge is not a transport facility but a historical point on the Chuya Highway. It fits perfectly into the surrounding landscape: the turbulent Katun below, stony banks, and open views of the valley. You can approach the bridge on the right bank of the river from the village of Inya, following the old path of the highway.

This crossing serves as a reminder of the time when the road through Altay was just taking shape, and engineering solutions were often born right on the spot — out of necessity, experience, and bold ideas. The Ininsky Bridge remains one of the most expressive testimonies of that era.

The confluence of the Chuya and Katun is located at the 713th kilometer of the Chuya Highway, near the village of Chuy-Oozy. This is an easily accessible and visually striking point of the route: it takes only a few minutes from the highway to reach the observation deck, and it is accessible by any vehicle. The platform is situated on a high terrace, offering a direct view of the junction where the two largest rivers of Gorny Altay meet.

The Katun originates on the southern slope of the Katunsky range, at the foot of Mount Belukha, and is considered the main artery of the region. In ancient Turkic tradition, the river’s name is associated with the meanings "mistress" or "queen." The Chuya — a right tributary of the Katun — begins much further east, in the marshy areas of the western slopes of the Chikhachyov range and the northern slopes of the Saylyugem. Before meeting the Katun, the Chuya passes through the Chuya and Kuray steppes, where its character changes noticeably.

From this height, the main reason people stop here is clearly visible: the difference in the water. During the warm season, the Katun most often has a turquoise or greenish-blue hue — it is fed by glaciers and deeper mountain springs. The Chuya, in contrast, carries a lot of sediment: its color is closer to milky-gray or brownish. At the confluence, the two streams flow side by side for some time, hardly mixing, and the boundary between them is clearly readable even from the platform. This is a vivid example of how the different origins of rivers are reflected in their color and flow structure.

The mouth itself has a classic shape: a wide valley, a calm expansion of the riverbeds, and smooth capes. From here, you can easily see how the Chuya approaches the Katun in a straighter line, while the main river continues its journey, collecting the waters of all Altay. The wind here often changes direction — it can come from the dry Chuya valley or the more humid Katun valley, which is palpable even during a short stop.

The local name for this area — Chuy-Oozy — literally translates as "the mouth of the Chuya." Since ancient times, such points have held special significance: river confluences are the best landmarks for navigating space and understanding the direction of valleys and paths. It is no coincidence that many archaeological monuments are concentrated nearby — burial mounds, deer stones, and ancient campsites. Researchers believe that important land routes once passed through this district.

If you wish, you can descend closer to the water via a path. In spring, you must be especially careful: the river levels are high, and the current is strong. In summer and early autumn, the descent is easier, and by the water, you can better hear how the flows "talk" to each other: the heavier Chuya produces a short, sharp wave, while the Katun responds with a smoother, deeper movement.

The confluence of the Chuya and Katun is a vital geographical hub of the Chuya Highway. Here, the Chuya’s journey through open steppe valleys ends, and its movement within the system of the great Katun begins, which further flows toward the Biya to form the Ob. For travelers, this is a clear point of transition: beyond it, the more open spaces of Central Altay begin, while the passes, narrow gorges, and tight valleys are left behind.

Kalbak-Tash is located on the Chuya Highway, on the right bank of the Chuya River, approximately ten kilometers from its confluence with the Katun. The name "Kalbak-Tash" is usually translated as "flat" or "even stone," which is an accurate description of the area: a bom — a rocky cliff hugging the river — stretches along the highway, and nearly three thousand drawings are collected on its smooth slabs.

Kalbak-Tash is a multi-layered stone chronicle spanning a vast period: from the Neolithic to the Ancient Turkic era. The earliest subjects date back to the 6th-4th millennia BCE: large figures of animals such as deer, goats, and occasionally camels. Next comes the richest layer — the Eneolithic and Bronze Age: scenes featuring people, chariots and wagons, pack oxen, drivers and warriors, domestic animals, and fantastic predators. The famous "Altai Chimera" motif dates back to this same time — an image of a mythical beast that researchers interpret as being linked to the mythology of ancient communities.

The Scythian period is recognizable by its dynamism: hunting scenes and a multitude of animals including goats, marals, and predators. The later Ancient Turkic images provide different details: wild bulls, bears, hunting, and, most importantly, runic inscriptions. This is a rare opportunity to see both art and writing in one location: short texts, some of which are already deciphered, while others remain a subject of debate. The technique also shows that the monument "lived" for a long time: early images were pecked out with stone tools, while later ones were often made with metal.

Accessing the site today is easy, but it is best viewed without rushing. There is an entrance fee, and you can visit either independently or with a guide. The drawings are distributed across several sections of the cliffs, and much depends on the light: fine lines are easier to read during the day, while the relief of the carvings becomes more prominent in the evening. If you walk slowly, the narratives begin to "assemble": hunting scenes, roads and wagons, individual signs, and human figures. Kalbak-Tash is valued for precisely this — here, on the stone, not just a single episode but an entire picture of the lives and beliefs of the people who passed through these valleys over thousands of years has been preserved.

Driving along the Ulagan Route, about fifteen kilometers from the village of Aktash, the road enters a narrow cleft between two cliffs — this is the place known as the Red Gate. On both sides, sheer walls about fifty meters high loom overhead, with the entire highway passing between them. The rocks are colored in a distinctive reddish-coral tone, which immediately sets this section of the road apart.

An old Altay legend is connected to this place. It is said that the hero Kaylyuk, while pursuing a giant, pushed the cliffs apart with his shoulders, and traces of his blood remained on the stone. The legend explains the color of the rocks, but the real reason is different: the rocks contain the mineral cinnabar (mercury sulfide), which gives them their rich red hue. On a sunny day, the color appears bright and almost fiery; in overcast weather, it looks deep and calm.

Despite its natural appearance, the Red Gate is the result of human labor. Until the beginning of the 20th century, there was only a trail here suitable for foot and horse travel. When the road was being laid, the cliffs were partially blasted, a bridge over the Chibitka River was built nearby, and this narrow passage was formed. Nevertheless, the shape of the gorge and the scale of the walls have been preserved, and the place is still perceived as a natural corridor.

The Red Gate is one of the rare sections of the route where you can clearly see how tight the passage was before the road was built. The cliffs approach the roadbed closely, exposing cracks, stratified rock layers, and signs of expansion. Below, the Chibitka gurgles, and its riverbed makes it easy to understand how water and mountains have interacted in such a narrow space for centuries.

If you step closer to the rocks, you can notice a human trace in the literal sense: an inscription has been preserved here that reads, "S. D. Kuyukov, May 16, 1946, With God I return to the Motherland." This is a rare historical mark that is preserved here as part of the human memory associated with this place. Otherwise, efforts are made to protect the rocks from new markings.

The Red Gate is an important landmark for the route. After passing them, the road gradually moves into the harsher regions of the Ulagan Highlands: the terrain changes, and the sense of altitude and open space increases. That is why people often make a short stop here — to look back, feel the scale of the place, and realize that a different Altay begins ahead.

Not far from Aktash, just off the Chuya Highway, lies a small lake known as Geyser Lake or the Blue Lake. It sits at the foot of a hill, in the shadow of the Kuray Range, and the walk to it takes only a few minutes. From the parking lot, a wooden boardwalk leads to the shore — a short, comfortable path through a spruce and larch forest. There is an entrance fee, as the area is protected and kept in order.

The lake is small: about thirty meters in diameter and approximately two meters deep, situated at an altitude of about 1,310 meters. The water is exceptionally clear, and even on an overcast day, the bottom is plainly visible. The turquoise hue is caused by bluish clay and bottom sediments; they make the water appear colored, though the water itself is pure. The lake is spring-fed, constantly refreshed by underground springs and a small stream.

The main attraction is the shifting patterns on the lakebed. Sometimes they look like multi-layered circles and ovals, with a gradient from light azure to deeper turquoise. These patterns are "alive": they are created by underground springs that pulse from time to time, lifting thin layers of mineral clay and sand from the bottom. There are no actual geysers here — the name comes from these underwater eruptions. If you are lucky, you might witness the moment when new circles slowly unfurl beneath the surface; predicting exactly when this will happen next is impossible.

There is no precise information regarding the lake’s origin. It is sometimes mentioned that it became more prominent after the 2003 earthquake, but this remains a theory. However, one fact is certain: the water almost never freezes in winter, as the underground springs maintain a temperature higher than the surrounding environment.

The climate in this part of Altay is fickle: due to the mountainous terrain, the weather can change abruptly. Even in summer, it is not uncommon for warm sunshine to be followed by a cold wind, rain, or even wet snow — a typical occurrence for the Kuray Valley.

Swimming in the lake is strictly prohibited. The bottom is fragile; if disturbed, the patterns may disappear for a long time. It is best to visit in the morning or late afternoon when there are fewer people. A visit usually doesn’t take much time, but witnessing the "work" of the springs in person is a rare and memorable experience.

The Aktashsky Repeater is located on one of the highest sections of the Kuray Range, near the village of Aktash. It is a radio-relay tower installed at an altitude of 3,038 meters above sea level. Today, it is primarily perceived as a viewpoint, but it was originally part of a large communication system connecting remote areas of Altay with each other and with Mongolia.

The ascent begins directly from the village. At first, the road passes through the forest, then emerges onto open rocky slopes with sharp turns and uneven surfaces. After rain, the route becomes significantly more difficult, so it is most often reached by off-road vehicles. A hike to the top is possible but requires a lot of time and good physical fitness.

The higher you go, the more noticeably the landscape changes. The forest remains below, and the high-altitude zone begins — with stone screes, sparse vegetation, and strong winds. Due to the altitude, snow can remain here until mid-summer and reappear as early as the beginning of autumn. The air is dry and clear, the weather changes rapidly, and even on a warm day, it can suddenly turn very cold.

From the summit, one of the widest views in the Aktash district opens up. The Severo-Chuysky Range, the Kuray Steppe, and the Chuya River valley are clearly visible. In clear and calm weather, the gaze stretches far — sometimes you can even spot Mount Belukha. From this height, the terrain is easy to read: glacial tongues on distant peaks, sharp rocky ridges, and wide steppe spaces transitioning into mountains.

The repeater itself was built in the early 1980s as part of a radio-relay backbone passing through high-altitude points. Since the early 2000s, it has operated autonomously, providing communication in this area. Surrounding it are metal structures and technical buildings without tourist infrastructure, but there are level areas where you can stop and look around.

A trip here is rarely a long walk — rather, it is a journey to one specific point. But the road itself is as memorable as the summit: the changes in altitude, the rocky ground, and the sense of open space. The Aktashsky Repeater allows you to see Altay from a height where the scale of the mountains, steppes, and the distances between them is especially palpable.

Welcome to the high-altitude world of Altay! We are approaching one of the most spectacular sections of the Chuya Highway — the Kuray Steppe is opening up ahead. Located at approximately the 824th kilometer of the highway, squeezed between two mighty ranges, it is the true desert heart of Gorny Altay.

The steppe itself is not just a plain, but a vast intermontane basin situated at an altitude of about one and a half thousand meters above sea level. Take a look at the landscape. It is always cold and sunny here; the frost-free period lasts only two months a year, and the scenery is more reminiscent of Mongolia than Siberia.
The main river, the Chuya, winds sinuously through the basin. But the Kuray Steppe is famous for more than just its harsh beauty. Scientists believe this basin was once the floor of an ancient glacial lake that vanished about fifteen thousand years ago following a colossal natural disaster. The resulting flood was one of the most powerful in Earth’s history. Proof of this lies right beneath your feet: notice the giant, wave-like hills of boulders and pebbles called Giant Current Ripples. These ridges can reach twenty meters in height — a rare landscape on our planet known as a scabland.

But what truly takes your breath away is the view to the south. The Kuray Steppe is the perfect observation deck for the Severo-Chuysky Range. Its peaks, reaching heights of over four thousand meters, are capped year-round with snow-white glaciers; it is no wonder they are called the Chuya Belki (the "White Peaks"). in good weather, you can spot massive ice fields that radiate an icy breath even in mid-summer.

In addition to natural phenomena, the Kuray Steppe holds ancient secrets. Archaeological monuments abound in this valley: burial mounds, stone statues, rock carvings, and even traces of ancient irrigation systems. Researchers associate these sites with a unique ancient Turkic tradition known as the "Kuray Culture." Stone statues from the 7th-9th centuries are found in these steppes, some bearing runic inscriptions and drawings. The most famous of these is the Kezer statue: it was erected in the 8th century on the left bank of the Chuya, in the Tete area near the modern village of Kuray. Kezer depicts a man with a long mustache and beard; the figure is about 1.6 meters tall and was originally buried in the ground up to its knees. In 1972, Kezer was moved to the Anokhin National Museum in Gorno-Altaysk, where it is kept today.

And here is what an ancient legend says about these lands. Long ago, a warrior named Kuray and his beloved Chuya lived in these parts. When a cruel Khan attacked their people, Kuray took a magic sword and fought the enemy host. He triumphed but was struck by a poisoned arrow. As he lay dying, he begged his beloved to flee as far as possible. In her grief, Chuya turned into a river to wind forever through the steppe, while Kuray himself turned to stone, becoming the granite idol Kezer-Tash. Since then, the steppe has borne his name, and its stone guardian watches over these vast expanses.

The next stop will transport you from Earth straight to another planet. Welcome to the Kyzyl-Chin valley, better known as Altai Mars. This is one of the most extraordinary places in the Kosh-Agach district, situated at an altitude of about 1,800 meters above sea level. To reach the main locations, you must turn off the Chuya Highway at the village of Chagan-Uzun (near the 864th-kilometer mark) and drive about five kilometers along a dirt road. The route follows the valleys of the Kyzyl-Chin and Chagan-Uzun rivers, passing near small settlements.

Before you lies something fantastic: an entire valley painted in incredible shades of red, orange, yellow, green, and purple. These mountains have long held the unofficial names "Mars-1," "Mars-2," and "Mars-3." This is no optical illusion or photo filter — these colors truly exist in nature and appear most vibrantly in sunny weather or closer to sunset.

Why is there so much color here? The slopes of the Kyzyl-Chin mountains are composed of multicolored clays and sandstones. These rocks contain various metal oxides. For example, red and orange tones are created by iron oxide, while yellow and greenish hues come from traces of other minerals. Over time, these layers were lifted and deformed by tectonic processes, while wind and water sculpted them into their characteristic relief of stripes, waves, and soft contours.

The territory is conventionally divided into three areas:

• "Mars-1" is the most accessible and recognizable part of the valley, dominated by rich crimson-burgundy colors and narrow clay canyons.
• "Mars-2" is located further away and features a more complex color palette: light, almost white, lilac, and purple stripes appear here.
• "Mars-3" is another point in the Kyzyl-Chin system of colored hills, chosen by those who want to see the valley without the crowds. It is visited less frequently as it lies further from the main "postcard" zone and depends more on the condition of the dirt road. Travelers describe "Mars-3" as a calmer, more spacious location with fewer people and a greater sense of an open valley where colors appear in wide patches and stripes on the slopes.

In addition to the unusual landscapes, the Kyzyl-Chin valley is of great interest to scientists. The rock layers were formed in different geological eras when the climate and landscape of Altay differed significantly from today. Fossilized remains of ancient vegetation and traces of life from millions of years ago are sometimes found here.

The local people call this place Kyzyl-Chin, which means "Red Gorge." The name perfectly captures its appearance, especially in the warm season when the colorful slopes contrast with the sky and sparse steppe vegetation. The climate here is fickle: it can be warm during the day but turn sharply cold by evening, so keep the altitude and open terrain in mind.

Be sure to take a walk through these landscapes. The most expressive views open up in the morning and evening hours, when the sunlight emphasizes the relief and makes the colors especially deep. Altai Mars is a place where conventional ideas of mountains and landscapes cease to apply, and your journey along the Chuya Highway suddenly takes on an entirely different dimension.

Advancing further from the main Mars-1, we enter the territory of Mars-2. While Mars-1 strikes you with its deep red tones, this location inspires wonder with its many layers and the diversity of its palette.
Getting here is more difficult: you will have to ford the shallow but wide Chagan-Uzun River. However, the effort will be well rewarded.

Before you lies a true geological section. The hills at Mars-2 are higher and more extensive, and their slopes resemble giant layered cakes. Here, the alternation of rock layers is especially visible: dark purple, brown, greenish, white, and yellow strata are laid out in horizontal stripes. Each color corresponds to a specific geological period and chemical composition. For example, the white layers often consist of quartz sand, while the purple ones contain a high concentration of manganese.

We owe this beauty and uniqueness to ancient water flows. It is believed that millions of years ago, this valley was the mouth of a large river that carried clay sediments of various colors. Over time, these sediments were compressed and hardened, and tectonic shifts lifted them, exposing the multilayered structure. Weathering and erosion completed the work.

Mars-2 is also a place where archaeologists and paleontologists find many traces of the past. In addition to fossils, ancient runic inscriptions and petroglyphs are located here, which the Altay people called Bichiktu-Boom — the "Written Cliff." Ancient nomads passing along the Chuya Highway believed that this place possessed a special power.

Local residents consider the Kyzyl-Chin mountains sacred. Their reverence is so deep that taking stones from here to bring home is considered a bad omen. This place demands respect; it is ideal for simply standing still, feeling the majesty of the mountains and the silent stillness in which millions of years of history have frozen.

Be sure to walk along the crests of the hills. From there, panoramic views open up over the entire Kyzyl-Chin valley, framed to the north by the Kuray Range, which we passed earlier.

The Chagan-Uzun River is life itself in this harsh, almost lifeless landscape we have just called "Mars." Its name in the Alta’y language means "white river" or "long river." It is this very water artery, a tributary of the Chu’ya, that carved its path through the multicolored clay rocks, creating the famous Kyzy’l-Chi'n valley.

The Chagan-Uzun valley, where you are now, is a true textbook on geology. When you look at the brightly colored slopes, it is important to remember that millions of years ago, this area was part of the vast Chuya glacial-dammed lake. The river, carrying sedimentary rocks, formed a long and narrow bay here. The specifics of its structure can still be seen today in the form of delicate patterns of varved clays on the slopes and the outlines of ancient lake terraces perched high above the current riverbed.

But the valley is famous for more than just its ancient history; it has been inhabited by humans since deep antiquity. Near the mouth of the Chagan-Uzun River and its right tributaries lies one of the richest complexes of petroglyphs in Altay. Ancient artists, likely the Telengits, left hundreds of drawings on the rocks, created using a stippling technique: hunting scenes, images of animals and people, as well as runic inscriptions telling of the lives and beliefs of nomads.

In the Chagan-Uzun area, there are also lesser-known but equally expressive locations. If you go deeper into the valley, you can see the so-called "Moon" — an area of white and gray hills composed of varved clays and glaciolacustrine deposits. These cold, almost vegetation-free slopes contrast sharply with the red Martian landscapes and truly resemble the surface of Earth’s satellite. Once, this was the bottom of an ancient body of water, and the sediments accumulated over millennia have been preserved in almost pristine form. This area is less visited, making it especially photogenic and peaceful.

The Chagan-Uzun River valley is a space where science and history converge. It vividly demonstrates how ancient natural processes shaped a landscape that still looks extraordinary today, remaining a vital part of the great journey along the Chuya Highway.

Welcome to perhaps the most enigmatic space in the Altai Republic! The Tarkhata Megalithic Complex, often called the Altai Stonehenge, is located in the Chuya Steppe, near the road leading towards Jazator and the Ukok Plateau. It is an open, almost treeless expanse where the horizon feels exceptionally wide, and any shapes on the ground immediately draw the eye. Against the backdrop of the steppe, the circle of large stones is visible from afar — it is not hidden by the terrain and seems deliberately placed at the center of the landscape.

The complex consists of a stone circle about sixty meters in diameter. Along its perimeter are massive boulders, some reaching two to four meters in height. The largest stone measures approximately six by four by five meters. Several megaliths stand out due to their shape and position and have earned their own names: the "Warrior," the "Stone with a Crack," the "Stone with a Nose," the "Sphinx," and the "Cradle of Sartakpay." They are arranged to act as landmarks for the cardinal points, forming a kind of "gate" within the circle.

Petroglyphs are clearly visible on the surface of the stones. These include images of animals — bulls, sheep, deer, goats, camels — as well as mythical characters and symbolic scenes. Based on their style and execution, the drawings date back to the Bronze Age, meaning the complex already existed at that time and was used by people for whom these images held great significance.

Scientific research on the complex began in 1994, with archaeologists, geophysicists, and astronomers later working on the site. Scientists established that the stones are laid out with high precision according to the cardinal points, and the placement of individual boulders was evidently intentional.

There are several scientific hypotheses regarding the purpose of the complex. One links it to the functions of an ancient observatory. According to researchers' calculations, about four thousand years ago, on the summer solstice, a ray of sunlight would strike a specific point inside the circle associated with the stone known as the "Cradle of Sartakpay." While the shift in the Earth’s axial tilt over time has disrupted this precise geometry, the idea of the complex’s calendrical or astronomical use is considered well-founded.

Another version suggests a ritual purpose. The shapes of some stones resemble animal or human figures, and the petroglyphs contain themes related to mythology and fertility rites. Most likely, the Tarkhata complex was a multifunctional site where celestial observation was combined with ceremonies and tribal gatherings.
Today, the Tarkhata Megalithic Complex remains one of the most unusual archaeological sites in Altay. There are no buildings, fences, or clearly marked trails here. If you stand in the center of the circle in calm weather, many report unusual physical sensations, though there is no scientific explanation for this effect yet.

In the Chuya Steppe, where the landscape appears simple and austere, the Tarkhata complex serves as a reminder that this territory was a vital cultural and spiritual space long before the appearance of modern roads and borders.