Darvaza Gas Crater - Door to Hell

In this episode, we leave behind the marble perfection of Ashgabat and head north across the Karakum Desert on some of the worst roads we've ever driven - zigzagging past camels, craters and ancient gas rigs en route to one of the world's most surreal destinations: the Darvaza Gas Crater, or as locals call it, the Door to Hell. With roadside kebabs, feral Alabai dogs and flaming geology, this leg of our Turkmenistan expedition is as thrilling as it is bumpy.

Missed the previous leg of the journey? Catch up on our travels through Turkmenbashi, Yangykala Canyon, Balkanabat and Nokhur in [Episode 2].

Out of Ashgabat: The Road North Begins

Ashgabat, glimmering white under the desert sun, was a stark contrast to the journey we were about to undertake. The city, polished and pristine, feels like a meticulously arranged mirage - marble monuments, gold-plated domes and streets so clean they could be operating rooms. But within minutes of leaving the capital, the veneer begins to peel.

Our route north (MAP) started with a familiar landmark: the sprawling Altyn Asyr Bazaar. This was no mere market; this was a logistical circus of humanity, camels, textiles, sheep, dried fruits, auto parts, carpets and rumors. If there was an unspoken national pastime, it was storytelling and haggling over apricots. We stocked up on snacks (including a few questionably dated tins of Soviet-brand sardines) and headed out.

We soon passed by the entrance toll plaza for the Turkmen Autobahn, a pristine, eerily empty high-speed motorway linking Ashgabat to Turkmenabat. Its lanes were smoother than most European motorways. Alas, it did not lead us to our fiery destiny, so we waved it goodbye and with a dramatic metaphorical drumroll, turned onto the Dashoguz-Ashgabat Road. We will return to the Turkmen Autobahn later in our trip when we are back from Darvaza and head towards the epic historic Silk Road cities of Merv, Amul and the stunning Dayahatyn Caravanserai, but that story is for the next episode.

Now, this road - the Dashoguz-Ashgabat Road (?ol Dasoguz-Asgabat), officially known as Atamyrat Nyýazow Saýoly, was once a proud Soviet infrastructure artery. Today? It resembles a road only if you've been gaslit about what roads are. Think of it as a series of asphalt memories. Potholes so deep you could baptize a toddler in them, ruts that would make a mountain goat reconsider and occasional detours over dunes because even nature felt sorry for our tires.

Yet this stretch is not without charm. The sheer madness of it becomes funny about halfway through. We found ourselves high-fiving every time we didn't scrape the undercarriage. It became a game of wits: Who could spot the road beneath the road?

Camels on the Highway: Welcome to the Karakum

Camels on Dashoguz-Ashgabat Road to Darvaza Gas Crater

Just before Bokurdak, we saw them. Camels. Dozens of them. Much more than we saw on the road to Yangykala. Meandering along the highway like bored supermodels on a desert runway. Some foraged for spiny cactus and dry desert flora, some strolled on the highway like they owned it and others just stood there, chewing slowly with the gaze of philosophers. There were no herders, no markers, no fences. Just camels, being camels.

Camel Caravan on Dashoguz-Ashgabat Road to Darvaza Gas Crater

In the unforgiving Karakum Desert, these creatures are as integral to survival as shade. Owned by nomadic families or small desert communities, they serve as transport, currency, milk providers and when all else fails, meat. The Turkmen nomads who still move through this arid landscape follow rhythms as ancient as the Silk Road. They set up camp near seasonal water sources, breed resilient goats and rely on ancient oral traditions passed from grandfather to grandson. They are protected by legendary ancient Alabai dogs.

Camels along Dashoguz-Ashgabat Road to Darvaza Gas Crater

While modernization has crept in, with solar panels and cell phones popping up in the odd yurt, the soul of the lifestyle endures. You survive by knowing the land, not by resisting it. You trust the stars more than Google Maps. And you absolutely respect the camel, even when it spits!

The Mud Bridge Oasis: A Desert Surprise

North of Bokurdak, the desert gave us another odd gift: a lake! Yes, a real, blue, glistening body of water. Was it a mirage? No. It had birds.

Unexpected blue lake with birds in Karakum desert on Dashoguz-Ashgabat Road to Darwaza

Crossing it required inching over a tragic excuse for a bridge: a mud-slathered, pockmarked structure that looked like it had survived several wars and a few angry herds of goats. But the lake itself was stunning. Birds bobbed gently across the surface, diving for insects. The water shimmered turquoise, framed by nothing but emptiness.

Its origin likely lies in ancient subterranean water pockets or perhaps artificial runoff from irrigation efforts in more fertile eras. Whatever its source, the effect was magical. For a moment, it was as if we’d driven into an impressionist painting.

Unexpected blue lake with birds in Karakum desert on Dashoguz-Ashgabat Road to Darwaza

We parked and sat in silence, listening to the chirping and occasional plop of diving birds. If you ever want to feel like the only human left on Earth in the most peaceful way possible, find this lake. Just don’t drive over the bridge too fast unless you want to start swimming.

Welcome to Erbent: Gas, Kebab and Canine Royalty

A couple hours of careful dodging and suspension-abusing later, we reached the village of Erbent and pulled into the glorious oasis of civilization: ??? TN? ?134. A gas station. A literal temple to fuel. It had everything - a pump that worked, a mini-mart selling lukewarm soda and best of all, guys grilling kebabs.

Karakum Desert at gas station ??? TN? ?134 near Erbent on Dashoguz-Ashgabat Road to Darvaza

Murad, the kebab guy, deserves a Michelin star. Or at least a medal for making the juiciest lamb skewers in a 200-kilometer radius. As we inhaled the meat, we noticed we were being watched. Three enormous Alabai dogs stared at us from the shade.

The Guardians of Nowhere: Karakum’s Feral Alabai Desert Dogs

In the vast, sun-bleached emptiness of the Karakum Desert, where the heat shimmers like a mirage and the nearest village might be a hundred kilometers away, the feral Alabai dogs of Turkmenistan reign as unlikely monarchs. These aren’t ordinary strays - they’re tough, self-sufficient descendants of ancient Central Asian shepherd dogs, with thick tawny coats, lupine ears and eyes that still are of the great Grey Wolf (which all dogs are descendents of) holding the patience of the desert itself.

Feral Alabai Dog at gas station ??? TN? ?134 near Erbent on Dashoguz-Ashgabat Road to Darvaza

After rigorous genetic mapping across the world, scientists have concluded it was in Central Asia, perhaps 35,000 years ago, that the Grey Wolf decided to befriend a completely unrelated species - humans - instead of eating them.

At lonely fuel stops along sand-choked trails, these dogs emerge from the shade of rusted trucks or concrete slabs, trotting over with cautious curiosity. They’re neither fully wild nor truly tame, surviving in a symbiotic limbo with the handful of humans who pass through:

Truckers, station attendants and occasional vagabonds like us toss them scraps of lepyoshka (bread) or leftover meat and in return, the dogs stand sentry against snakes, scorpions and the desert’s unseen dangers. Some follow nomadic caravans for miles, loping alongside camels before returning to their chosen outpost. Others claim a single pump or ruin as their kingdom, napping under the skeletal remains of Soviet-era machinery.

These dogs don’t beg; they assess.

Feral Alabai Dog at gas station ??? TN? ?134 near Erbent on Dashoguz-Ashgabat Road to Darvaza

Approach slowly and you might earn a wary sniff - then, if deemed harmless, a slow-motion tail wag. Share a bite of your sausage and you’ve sealed a temporary alliance. One traveler swears a particularly shaggy alpha male escorted his jeep for kilometers, guiding it around a hidden sinkhole before vanishing back into the dunes.

Their ancestors likely prowled with Mongol horsemen or guarded Silk Road caravanserais. Today, they’re a living thread to Turkmenistan’s past - four-legged historians of the desert, their howls echoing under stars unspoiled by city lights.

In a land of extremes, these dogs are the quiet witnesses to the Karakum’s secrets - proof that even in the harshest places, life finds a way to endure together.

Soviet Fossils: The Ghosts of Exploration

As we continued, signs of the Soviet past began appearing more frequently: broken derricks, rusting pipelines, skeletal machinery that hadn’t moved in decades. This was ground zero for 1970s gas exploration.

The Soviets, in their eternal quest to poke holes into the Earth, were drilling for natural gas in Darvaza in 1971 when disaster struck. A rig collapsed into a gas-filled cavern. With methane leaking and danger rising, geologists made a practical decision: set it on fire to burn off the gas. Fire was supposed to last a few days.

54 years later, it is still burning.

The result? The Darvaza Gas Crater, unofficially known as the Door to Hell. Geologists didn’t name it that. Locals did.

Craters and Dunes: The Final Approach

As we got close to Darvaza, we stopped at two other craters not far from it - the Water and Mud Craters. Each was like a trailer for the main event.

Water Crater

We stopped at the Water Crater - a peaceful blue pool in a collapsed cavity deep in the heart of Karakum Desert, close to Darvaza Gas Crater.

Water Crater

This striking turquoise pool, surrounded by golden sands, appears like a mirage, its vibrant blue hues contrasting starkly with the barren desert landscape. Unlike its fiery neighbor, the Water Crater is a tranquil yet enigmatic sight, formed by natural gas exploration that collapsed into an underground aquifer, creating a stunning oasis of mineral-rich water.

Water Crater

Vagabonds like ourselves who brave the remote journey are rewarded with an otherworldly spectacle - a serene, almost surreal, swimming hole in the middle of one of Earth’s harshest environments.

Mud Crater

Then another surreal wonder: the bubbling, ever-shifting Mud Crater, still steaming slightly, (relatively) smaller flames whispering tales of forgotten heat, not far from blazing Darvaza Gas Crater and the dazzling Water Crater.

Mud Crater

This lesser-known marvel is a hypnotic spectacle of gurgling gray mud, constantly churning like a witch’s cauldron in the middle of the desert. Formed by the same natural gas forces that created its famous neighbors, the Mud Crater hisses and pops as methane escapes beneath the earth, turning the ground into a thick, viscous soup.

Mud Crater

The landscape feels alive here; cracked clay stretches around the pit and the air carries a faint sulfuric tang. Adventurers who overland across the Karakum Desert to witness this eerie phenomenon are rewarded with a glimpse of nature’s raw, untamed power - where the earth itself seems to breathe. For those seeking the road less traveled, the Mud Crater is a hauntingly beautiful stop on Turkmenistan’s trail of otherworldly wonders.

We then left the tarmac entirely, veering off towards right onto a desert trail that would make Indiana Jones sweat. Over sand dunes, past half-buried pipes and collapsed rigs, we finally reached a ridge.

We crested it.

Darvaza Gas Crater

And there it was. The only permanently burning gas crater on the planet.

The Darvaza Gas Crater.

Darvaza After Dark: Fire, Myth and Madness

We checked into a nearby yurt camp, perched on a hill just west of the crater beyond Mount Darvaza. Our hosts served sweet tea and flatbread as we sat under the open sky.

Yurt Camp at Darvaza Gas Crater in Karakum Desert, Turkmenistan

When night fell, the crater came alive. Flames danced within the giant pit, casting an amber glow across the landscape. From the hill, we could see the fire reflecting off Mount Darvaza in surreal, almost hypnotic patterns. It felt like the mountain was alive, blushing in the firelight.

Mount Darvaza glowing in reflected light from the inferno of Darvaza Gas Crater

Walking to the crater at night is a full-body experience. The wind carries heat toward you before you even reach the edge. Then comes the roar - deep, constant, primal. It sounds like the world is exhaling.

The crater is 70 meters wide, 20 meters deep and filled with fire. It defies reason. You don’t just see it; you feel it. Your skin tingles, your hair sings, your breath shortens. It is sublime and terrifying. You question whether this was a Soviet mistake or a carefully laid trap for the curious.

Myths, Legends and the Unexplainable

In local lore, the crater is cursed. Some say it’s the grave of a djinn who challenged the Earth itself. Others say it was a Soviet experiment gone wrong, a punishment for hubris.

Darvaza Gas Crater

The more scientific among us would say it’s an accidental geologic event. But even scientists, standing at the edge, tend to go quiet.

In a nation known for tightly controlled narratives, the Door to Hell is a glorious, chaotic outlier. It is unsanctioned awe. And ironically, it may be the most honest thing the Soviet Union ever built.

Locals refer to it with nicknames evoking hell or the underworld, drawing parallels to its fiery, otherworldly appearance. "Jähennem derwezesi" (???????? ?????????), the Gate of Hell. Or "Jähennem çüygi" (???????? ?????), Hell's Pit. Or "Seytan derwezesi" (?????? ?????????), Devil's Gate. While the "official" Turkmen name remains Derweze.

Though some guides jokingly call it "Turkmenistan'in jähennemi" when entertaining tourists.

Traveler Rituals at the Darvaza Crater

Vodka, Sand and (Bad) Decisions. The Darvaza Crater’s hellish glow inspires unofficial pilgrim traditions - some poetic, some reckless, all bizarrely fitting for a place nicknamed "The Door to Hell."

Darvaza Gas Crater

Here’s what really happens when the guides look away.

The Vodka Toast to the Djinn

Every tour group seems to have that one Russian or Ukrainian traveler who insists on pouring a shot of vodka into the crater "for luck." Guides roll their eyes but rarely stop it - partly because someone usually follows up by chugging a shot themselves. Rumor has it a drunk German backpacker once tried to urinate into the flames; his pants allegedly caught fire.

Stealing "Cursed" Sand"

Despite warnings, tourists pocket blackened sand from the crater’s edge as souvenirs. Locals claim this invites "desert nightmares," but that doesn’t stop anyone. Please note: Ashgabat International Airport Security has confiscated jars of "Hell sand"; apparently it’s "suspiciously flammable."

Midnight Naked Photos

A shockingly common flex among daredevils: Stripping down for a hellfire-backed photo op. Guides pretend not to see, though one told me: "Last year, an Italian man burned his ass sitting too close. Darwin Award nominee."

Darvaza Gas Crater

The "Gate of Hell" Marriage Proposal

Yes, really. At least three couples have gotten engaged at the crater’s edge since 2020, lured by the "romance" of eternal flames. All three marriages are reportedly still intact; so maybe the djinn approve?

Overnight Camping (and Existential Dread)

Sleeping in a tent 30 meters from a fiery pit sounds insane, but it’s popular. Visitors report: "The flames hiss like a thousand snakes", "You’ll wake up sweating, unsure if it’s heat or terror", and "At 3 AM, you will question your life choices."

Why Do It? As one Australian backpacker put it: "It’s the closest thing to standing on another planet - except you can get drunk while doing it."

The rituals are nonsense, but they prove one thing: Humans can’t resist flirting with the infernal.

Final Warning: Don’t try to cook over the crater. Your kebab will end up in the fire - and so might you.

The Joy of Getting There

Was it worth the cracked shocks and endless zigzagging?

Darvaza Gas Crater - Door to Hell

Absolutely.

The journey to Darvaza isn’t just about arriving at the crater. It’s about everything that happens before: the camels, the kebabs, the shepherd dogs, the nomads, the jokes about potholes big enough to apply for citizenship. It’s about sharing canned sardines in the shade of a sand dune, watching fire reflect off a mountain and standing before a roaring hole in the Earth, whispering:

"Well, that escalated."

Bucket list: checked. Memories: seared in. Eyebrows: slightly singed.

Darvaza is unforgettable and will remain a part of us till it is our time to cross a door. Hopefully not this one.

Here is a little video summarizing our expedition to Darvaza:

If you are interested in craters, check out our adventures at a completely different type of crater - the Ngorongoro Crater which is the world's largest Caldera (Tanzania, Africa)!

Next up - exploration of the Turkmen part of historic Silk Road trade route and some of the largest cities and best preserved caravanserais at Nisa, Merv, Amul and Dayahatyn and greeting the legendary Amu Darya river (Oxus river) that whispers numerous tales of humans and civilizations and the rise and fall of empires. See [Episode 4: The Silk Road’s Beating Heart - Nisa to Merv].

- The Vagabond Couple