INTO ALTAI - FULL MOVIE

A rare knowledge inherited from the steppes of Central Asia, born out of the need to survive in one of the harshest climates on Earth. Here, the Golden Eagle is no trophy. It is a partner, the heir to a tradition more than 2,000 years old. Our bond is built neither on domination nor control. It is a trust, forged day by day, in stillness, in watching, in patience. The Eagle is not a trained creature. It is a free ally, wild, formidable. Between us, there is something we cannot fully explain. Something ancient, sacred, a brotherhood born of sky and earth. This bond, both fragile and powerful, is like a rope team in the mountains. Two beings joined by an invisible thread, each responsible for the other, each free, yet never alone. Between them, trust is not a luxury. It is a condition for survival. A silent pact, drawn like a thread between sky and earth. They are five friends, highly motivated to come and explore the Altai. Camille Armand, Victor D'Avier, and Pierre Hortique. They are joined by photographer Soren Rickards and filmmaker Yannick Boissoneau from Ulaanbaatar, the bustling capital. It takes several days of driving to reach the far west of the country, where the Altai Mountains begin. They travel in a UAZ, an old, battered Russian van. Indestructible and loyal, the trusted companion of those who venture off the beaten path in Mongolia. Within the first hours, the city disappears. It gives way to the vastness of high grasslands, swept by an endless wind. An ocean of steppe, dotted with white yurts like seashells lost in a green sea. Throughout the journey, encounters don't need to be sought. They happen on their own, carried by chance, or by a simple glance. Each night, they sleep with local families. Sometimes electricity gives way to candlelight, the cold chased away by a fire of dried dung. He doesn't look worried. No, not at all. You see, he's not worried. It's the big thing that holds the whole transmission arm, and it doesn't hold anymore. Oh, f**k. It feels like it was planned. He was ready for it. Two seconds and it changes the whole thing. How did it change? The UAZ rattles, growls, presses on. It takes time for the eye to adjust to such vastness. Time to surrender to the pace. It is a gentle approach, a way of preparing for the harshness of the mountains. For their beauty, too. Nestled in the far west of Mongolia, Uyghur is the capital of Bayan-Ulgi province. It is the last major town before reaching the Tavan-Bogd mountain range. Pako is a child of this land. His presence within the team is invaluable. He will be the bridge between their steps and the voices of the locals, a sensitive soul attuned to the echoes of tradition. Pako is the final, essential piece in the success of this journey. Behind his initial shyness lies a warm-hearted cook who, with time, will become a valued friend. In the remote valleys and high plains of the Mongolian Altai live nomadic families, heirs to a way of life passed down through centuries. Here, life follows the rhythm of the seasons, the herds, and the wind. They raise goats, yaks, sheep, horses, move their yurts with the changing pastures, grow what they can in the harsh soil, and draw strength from a deep connection to nature. Isolated from the modern world, they sustain themselves in a demanding environment, in harmony with the mountains. Their hospitality, resilience, and simplicity inspire deep respect. The final kilometers follow the Milk River, born from the Potanin Glacier, the longest in Mongolia. Its source lies at the foot of the sacred massif, the roof of the Altai. I was just about to start. But I was told I was going to get in trouble. I thought I was going to be executed. I was going to get in trouble. Look at the knife I had to put in. Oh, no, I didn't put it in. Wait, the next time. Here you go. So now we are at the village chief's house, who is hosting us for our last night before the base camp. And we realized that we are all in the same room. So the grandfather is the chief, at the back, at the right. There is our driver, who is already puking. It hasn't even started yet. And there are five of us in the middle. And in the room next door, it's already puking too. And there's the whole family. So it's going to be a nice night's rest before the base camp. As spring arrives, nomadic herders begin an age-old task, harvesting the precious undercoat of the cashmere goat. The hair is not sheared, but gently combed by hand. Mongolian cashmere is not just a textile fiber, it is the legacy of a millennia-old way of life. What are the passports? I'll check. The plan is to go from here to the base camp in the mountains. We have about six hours, with camels that will carry all our cargo. We messed up with our snowboards, but snowboarding with camels is priceless. That's what I liked about Mongolia. After a long road trip, we leave this small village accompanied by our camel tribe. We made a nice approach, with the hope of climbing our little Tour Tout Confort. And in fact, we get torn apart by the wind. There are gusts of 100 km per hour. We end up setting up our tent, breaking one, and sleeping four in a small tent. So it puts the trip in motion. So for the next two or three days, since we have no information, and the massif is very blurry, we will go for a walk, see the snow conditions, the orientations, and then we will really attack with the plans and the mountains that we had in mind for a while. His name is Olgi. In Mongolian, it means the cradle. And perhaps that's no coincidence. Here, Victor is discovering a side of the high mountains that he had, until now, only brushed against. Olgi becomes his own cradle. Not the one of childhood, but of something just beginning. It's going so well! It's perfect! It's so beautiful! I have less experience in mountaineering than my friends. It was the first time that I was doing not the ice waterfall, but the ice wall with double poles and crampons. So it was very intense and it was fun. I felt great, surrounded by my friends. They make fun of my face at a lot of times. You look relaxed! That's it! He finally trusted the brush. Pharaoh position. You stay well. Heel down. That's what's beautiful about this trip. Even if I have a little less experience in climbing, I trust them. We are in super isolated mountains and it's going well. Yes! Thank you boys! At base camp, they savor time. Far from urgency, far from the summit. Here, the days stretch out and everyone settles into their own rhythm. In this suspended moment, the body rests, and the mind too. The snowboarders are entertained by the skiers. Boom! The sky shifts moods. Sun, wind, snow, rain. Sometimes all four in a single day. Washing is never easy, but once backed by the fire, it feels good. The real chef delights us every day. We will be addicted to our food and we will come back with a kilo more. I don't sleep for two weeks. I start with the bodybuilding in the morning and then I do art. The goal at the beginning will be to get the feeling. To get the balance and the feeling. They don't shy away from these days of rest. They surrender to them. For it is there in the stillness and the slowness that they catch their breath before heading back toward the heights. Mountaineers come seeking challenge on Birgit Peak and nomads see in it the spirit of the wind. As for me, I soar above it as one returning home, for this peak is mine too. I was born among its rocks and when my wings cut through the frozen air above the eternal snow, I become one with it. There is hope in this peak. It is the peak of the mountain. There is a dream of a new dawn. I see it with my own eyes. Is it not for these rare and precious moments that our friends have come to the windswept heights of Tovan Bahag? Ready? I am ready! Ah, there's one! Finally, I won! It looks like it's exposed to rockfall and we've chosen a day when it's not very nice and quite cold to be able to ski inside. There, it's being filmed! I did 15 meters in front of it! It's immortalized! It's ok, you can go! In the east of the Charamar The east of the Charamar with lots of rocks that can fall everywhere Yeah, but I like to know how far the ice is because all of this is blue It's a skipper! Ah, there's better! Ah yes, it's cool! 5 centimeters! We mustn't exceed our tracks! The problem is that from where we are there are 50 meters of skippers It's a long frozen and without climbing We'll discuss it Yeah, I'd almost like to try It's a long frozen! Ah, it's frozen! Watch out! It's ice! Cretan rises at the far western edge of the range from its summit at 4374 meters a clear and almost perfect line emerges surrounded by huge towering seracs From our camp, from the yurt we don't see it much, it's really at the bottom of the massif we have to walk about 12 kilometers to start seeing it and then we have to go to the camp to sleep, to try to climb it so it still goes up to 4,300 meters, it's quite high We make the stop and then we'll go back quietly quietly with the rope and then that's it, it's going in the normal axis I think that anyway the first one will go more slowly than the others and we still see on the binoculars, we still see good ice plates I want to go first So we started at 6 o'clock to climb the ridge in the southeast so I mainly follow my colleagues my vision in general is the ass of Pierre, the ass of Camille and I follow I hang on Oh la la! This ridge is so beautiful! I'm more a guy with a nose than with ice, you see And right there, there is China just behind the ambiance on the right The cornice where we wanted to go is the one over there because you see the seracs, there is a hole and there we still made a big cornice I feel My throat, look if we pull it there we can really put ourself on the rocks and then we ski it otherwise we go lower Come on my guardian, make us a beautiful mushroom It's concrete Ah it does not move on my side Less a little though I'm going to scratch, I'm going to put my brooch in addition What we can do is to pass the ropes I put them If the mushroom breaks the brooch it takes the relay Ah but it's good there In the crystal! Come on guys Go easy at the beginning you are wary of the ice Yeah the first 20 meters Yannick for the team Do not forget that we are still in the middle of Mongolia so go easy 3, 2, 1 Gorgon, go! Thank you Cam 8h.5 200m it's well ridden, easy 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 Thank you It's the best thing I've ever wished Oh God! but it is only one part of the whole what truly matters lies elsewhere in the shifting light across the valleys in unfamiliar voices that grow familiar in learning to embrace the unexpected this pilgrimage becomes a space for transformation shaped by slow discoveries and suspended moments each turn, each encounter each silence weaves the invisible thread of this experience and at the end of the path it's not the summits they will remember but what they lived in reaching these are the timeless memories they came to find memories only they will truly be able to tell they've walked a million walls but you never let them show come on, it's time to go oh yeah you oh you know how this will end and you know he's in the sun for all that you've done for you and your children no longer you always worry just ask and you'll receive beyond your own and you oh you know yeah you know this will end