I’m in Siberia for winter temperatures of -25C (it goes down to -40C here) for the second time in three years. Normally I really hate the cold, to the point where I don’t even ski although I know it’d be a sport I would like. But for Siberia, winter is actually my favorite (and in my opinion, the only) time of year to see it.
I’ve landed in Novosibirsk, Russia’s third largest city after Moscow and St. Petersburg and the unofficial capital of Siberia. It’s actually mid-March and still -26C in Novosibirsk, but given the last time I was in Siberia I rode a motorcycle over frozen Lake Baikal in February’s -20C air temperature for 3 days, standing air temperature of -26C isn’t too bad.
It’s a good thing I’m here solo and don’t know anybody around because I look ridiculous. After my first trip to Siberia in winter I am properly equipped this time, mostly with stuff I accumulated on the first trip. Layering is non negotiable, I honestly think you would just not survive if you didn’t. It’s not “slimming” but 3-5 layers of cold weather athletic gear has kept me functional. Ugly waterproof, rubber Ugg boots. Puffer jacket on top is also pretty non negotiable. And the most valuable piece in my Siberia arsenal – the Russian fur hat. I think this hat is undervalued and underappreciated, especially outside of Russia. It looks comical but WOW the word “magical” is not an overstatement… These hats usually have an outside leather shell that keeps the wind out and 3 flaps of fur hanging off – one large wide flap on top that is usually secured up with a button (but you can bring down to form a low brim when needed), and two on the sides over your ears. What a lot of non-Russians may not know is that you can button these on the BOTTOM under your chin and it WRAPS your head all in fur, around your jaw and over your neck. It is honestly amazing. I have a couple of these if people would perchance like to test them back at home. My friends from Moscow say nobody “cool” wears these hats anymore, it’s mainly for old people and people in the boonies (like Siberia). But – I’m in Siberia, and I don’t really care if I look cool. The last time I was in Moscow in December (it was only -10C), my friend told me that I looked like a little boy when I was bundled up. But again… I don’t care! As my friend Dmitry reminds me, “it’s Personality Season.”
In addition to things you wear to insulate yourself against this ungodly climate, a couple other tricks up my sleeve include little crack-to-activate heat packs which fit nicely in gloves and boots and a thermos that supposedly keeps hot liquids hot for 12 hours. And you never want to skip a meal or try to “diet” in Siberia… you really need all the fat you can get on yourself. I sound like a grandma but give Siberian winter a go just one time and you’ll see what I mean.
I have to be down in the Kazakh steppe in about a week. For one reason or other, much to my delight it was easier to fly into Russia and train around and over the border rather than fly into Kazakhstan directly. I’ve been asked if I’m “on the Trans-Siberian” – actually in Russia, there is no train called the “Trans-Siberian”, it’s just a network of trains that we refer to that connects Moscow to Vladivostok in the most general definition. Given I’ve already been to the two terminuses of this route (Moscow and Vladivostok), as well as what is generally considered the highlight of the route and the one place to stop (Irkutsk and Lake Baikal), I’m not as compelled to take this route right now. But I’m going to carve my own Siberian rail route starting in Novosibirsk and somehow ending in Kyzyl-Orda in Kazakhstan in 8 days. Yes, Siberia actually does extend into both modern-day Kazakhstan and Mongolia in addition to the territory in Russia. And while I have been to Kazakhstan before it was only Almaty and there some very interesting Soviet history and Weird and Wonderful to explore in the other regions of Kazakhstan.
You could say I don’t mind the odd little adventure…
The Little Rover 