If you’re visiting Kyrgyzstan and craving an unforgettable adventure, horse trekking to Koltur Lake from Bishkek should be on your list.
It started with a three-hour drive from the capital, heading deeper into the mountains of Kyrgyzstan. The farther we drove, the more the city faded into memory. The scenery changed fast—flat roads gave way to winding mountain paths, and the air got crisper with each turn. We eventually arrived at the trailhead: a quiet, open clearing that looked out toward distant peaks. There was no sign of other people. Just us, the wind, and the wait for our guide.
Eventually, our horse guide arrived with a small herd of mountain horses. No introductions or long explanations—just a simple gesture to mount up. We got on our horses and began the journey. That’s when the real adventure began.


What It’s Really Like Horse Trekking to Koltur Lake
The terrain was tough right from the start. There was no smooth trail—just dirt paths, rocks, and steep inclines. As the horses moved forward, I could feel how carefully they chose each step. It was slow and deliberate.
We rode up and down, through narrow passes and slanted hills. Some sections were so steep I leaned forward over the saddle just to stay balanced. I’m not an experienced rider, and I honestly felt like I might fall off at certain points. The horses didn’t rush. They knew the trail better than we did.

When the Horses Get Tired Too
It wasn’t just hard on us. The horses felt it too. As we started getting closer to the peak, they began to slow down, breathing heavier. One of the horses in our group, carrying another rider, simply stopped. It refused to go any farther.
Our guide didn’t fight it. He got off his own horse, gave it to the rider, and continued on foot, leading the tired horse by its reins. That moment stuck with me. Even these strong animals have their limits.



The Scenery Starts to Shift
As we climbed higher, everything changed. The forest behind us turned into a sweeping view of green valleys and sharp peaks. Every time I looked back, the scenery took my breath away. Layers of pine trees stretched behind us, and you could feel the altitude in your lungs. The air was thin. My chest felt tight, but not dangerously so—just enough to remind me how high we were.
Then came the wildflowers. Yellow, purple, white—scattered across the trail like confetti from nature. The higher we went, the more they seemed to multiply.


First Glimpse of Koltur Lake
Fog started rolling in around the peaks. It drifted over the trail in patches, hanging low in the air. Then, through the mist, I saw something blue in the distance. At first I thought it was just a reflection, but as we got closer, it came into focus: Koltur Lake.
We got off the horses and walked toward the shore. The lake looked untouched—bright blue, surrounded by mountain cliffs and wild grass. The water was so clear I could see all the way to the rocks at the bottom, even several meters out. I knelt down, touched the surface—it was freezing cold. A few people in our group jumped in completely, laughing and shouting from the shock of the cold. I stayed dry but couldn’t stop staring at the water.
There was almost no one else there. Just our group, the fog, the silence, and that stunning view.
Resting by the Water
We stayed for about an hour. We let the horses graze while we sat by the lake, snacking, breathing, resting. The silence was heavy but peaceful. It didn’t feel like a tourist spot. It felt sacred. Earned.
I could feel the altitude—breathing was more work than usual—but it was still manageable. I was tired, but more in awe than anything else.




Descending After Horse Trekking to Koltur Lake
Eventually, we had to leave. We got back on the horses and began the descent.
Going down was honestly harder than going up. The slopes felt even steeper from above. I had to lean back, grip the saddle, and brace with my legs just to stay balanced. Every step down jarred through my spine and into my legs.
By halfway down, my inner thighs were burning. My knees were sore. I could feel every movement in my hips and lower back. The group was mostly silent—we were all just focused on getting down safely.
It took a full hour of steep downhill riding before we reached more level ground. By that point, I was wiped out. I could barely sit up straight in the saddle.


Finally Back on Solid Ground
When we reached the starting point, I slid off the horse and nearly collapsed. My legs were jelly. Everyone else looked the same—sore, tired, but smiling. No one had expected it to be that hard.
Over the next few days, I was sore in places I didn’t even know could get sore. But it was the kind of soreness that makes the memory last.
What You Should Know Before Horse Trekking to Koltur Lake
If you’re thinking about horse trekking to Koltur Lake, here’s what to expect:
- It’s physically demanding. Even if you’re not walking, your body will be working the whole time. The uphill climb and downhill descent are no joke.
- You don’t need to be an expert rider. But you do need to be okay with discomfort. There’s no smooth path, no shortcuts.
- The scenery is unbelievable. Forests, fog, wildflowers, and that unreal blue lake. It’s one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen.
- It’s quiet and remote. No crowds, no shops, no noise. Just nature.
- You’ll feel sore. But it’s the kind of pain that makes you feel proud.
Horse trekking to Koltur Lake isn’t easy—but if you’re looking for something raw, authentic, and unforgettable, this is it.
