With the coming of autumn the mountain gradually becomes deserted. The hikers return to the cities, and the local people who spend summer on the mountain pastures return to their villages. The sound of music and laughter makes way for the bluster of chill winds. The first frost sprinkles the upper slopes of the mountain white, and then without warning the sky empties its first snow. Within a few days the ground is hidden beneath a thick white quilt. Now the streams flow unseen through tunnels they have bored beneath the deep snow which fills the valleys. The mountain huts in front of which children played just a few weeks before gradually disappear in the drifts.

Mountaineers attracted by the challenge of winter conditions now begin to make plans for climbing Kackar. The ascent to the summit which takes just a few hours in the summer months will take as many days in the snow.

The avalanches had damaged trees, telephone and electricity poles. Only towards evening the next day did we make it to the village.

We set out early the next morning and reached Hastaf Yaylasi around noon. The pasture was deep in snow, and huge boulders had disappeared beneath it. Kackar looked completely different from what it had done in summer. Although we were wearing snow shoes, these did not always prevent us from sinking deep into the snow in places. Late in the afternoon a blizzard broke, but before dark we had managed to put up our tent on the plateau of Dilber Duzu. The blizzard, which meanwhile increased in intensity, was perhaps Kackar's way of welcoming its guests! But we were almost there now, the summit just a day's climb away. The following morning we rose early, and in three hours reached Deniz Golu.
From there we descended into the south bowl, where a surprise...

awaited us in the form of a violent and freezing wind off the north glacier. A few hours later, just before night fell, we were on the summit. Hurriedly we found the summit book and signed it, before heading back down again. We had only managed to stay a few minutes on the summit which we had taken days to reach. When we arrived back at the lake, the storm had died away and the sky was ablaze with stars. It was as if Kackar had sent the storm to prevent us invading its privacy, but now that we were leaving, was graciously bidding us farewell with good weather. For a brief time - if unwillingly at first - it had shared the long solitary winter months with us. We retired to our tent and happily sipped hot coffee. Outside a blizzard was raging once more. How many people were lucky enough to experience such disparate emotions simultaneously, we wondered? That was what made climbing Kackar in winter so irresistible.

Yildirim Gungor is a mountaineer.