Yangykala Canyon: Crocodile's Mouth

Into the Wild: Desert Roads & Camel Highways

Have you ever driven into a Martian canyon in the middle of the desert while dodging camels?

In the last episode, we explored the white marble city of Ashgabat and took a night train to Turkmenbashi (see Neo-Monumentalist Ashgabat, Caspian Sea Port city of Turkmenbashi & Turkmen Overnight Sleeper Train Ride). We now leave Turkmenbashi's Caspian Sea coast behind, plunging into the Karakum Desert, where the "roads" dissolve into cracked asphalt and sand-drifted trails. Our 4x4 lurched like a ship in a storm, slowing only when a caravan of dust-caked camels claimed right of way - their languid strides a reminder that here, time moves on desert terms. We head to the fabled Yangykala Canyon and then on to ancient Nokhur (aka Nohur) village via the city of Balkanabat. We will stay overnight with a local family in Nohur and share a traditional dinner, visit the tree where Noah's family found shelter, climb down 350 steps to a deep underground thermal lake, taste some fabulous Turkmen kabob and continue our Turkmenistan adventure in this episode.

If you thought driving in Turkmenistan was a breeze after cruising through the gleaming streets of Ashgabat or the eerily empty highways of Turkmenbashi, think again. This episode, dear readers, is a Toyota Hilux-powered rollercoaster into the wild west of Central Asia – where camels roam free, ancient Central Asian dogs in endless desert sand dunes strike friendships, the tarmac fears commitment and the rocks tell stories older than time.

Turkmenbashi to Yangykala

Yangykala Plateau scenic overlook at desert trail to Yangykala Canyon (40°21'30.5"N 54°22'33.4"E)

We set off from Turkmenbashi with high hopes, a full tank of gas and Google Maps (this MAP) laughing quietly in the background. The first leg toward the Yangykala Canyon winds northeast through a police checkpoint on to the sleepy town of Orfa, where time appears to have taken a sabbatical. The road - if we can generously call it that - was more pothole than pavement. Somewhere near the ??? TNÖ ?61 gas station, a lonely fuel stop and minimarket in the middle of nowhere, we paused for tea and a stretch. The attendant waved us off with a knowing grin that said, “You have no idea what you’re in for.”

He was right.

Beyond Tersakkan, the road deteriorated from “bad” to “did-the-Soviets-build-this-during-a-lunch-break?” The tarmac vanished altogether. What remained was a rutted, washboard track that bucked and kicked the Hilux like a wild horse with a grudge. Sand dunes began to creep onto the path, trying to reclaim what humans once dared to tame.

Yangykala Plateau Mesas and Buttes: Rock Formations along desert trail to Yangykala Canyon (40°27'00.1"N 54°38'03.8"E)

The mesas and buttes of Yangykala Plateau rise like crumbling citadels from the Karakum Desert - their stratified cliffs banded in burnt sienna, bone-white and rust-red, revealing 50 million years of geological drama. Wind-sculpted into fortress-like formations with sheer drop-offs and narrow ridges, these eroded remnants of an ancient seabed glow with unearthly intensity at dusk, resembling a Martian landscape dotted with the occasional hardy desert shrub clinging to the parched earth.

And then - the camels.

Camels at Yangykala Canyon, Turkmenistan Photo credit: Tripadvisor

We kid you not, actual camel caravans, ambling across the desert as if auditioning for a Nat Geo documentary. No fences. No humans in sight. Just stately beasts with slow, purposeful gaits, like they owned the place (and honestly, they probably do). They stared at us with the bemused expression of creatures who’ve seen generations of clueless travelers try to navigate their backyard.

We dropped tire pressure and shifted into low gear. The Karakum Desert was not playing around. The trail to Yangykala demanded concentration, grit and a bit of blind faith. The Hilux, bless her desert-born soul, grunted her way over the dunes and rocks like a true nomadic steed.

Yangykala Canyon: Relaxing at the Crocodile's Mouth

And then - just when we were ready to give up and start herding camels for a living - we crested a ridge and bam, there it was: Yangykala Canyon.

Holy mother of erosion! Yangykala isn’t just rock - it’s the fossilized spine of an ancient dragon, its rust-red ribs glowing under the Karakum sun.

Crocodile's Mouth, Yangykala Canyon

Sprawled across the horizon like a Martian badland, Yangykala - meaning “Fortress of Fire” in Turkmen - lived up to its name. Jagged cliffs blazed in hues of rust, rose, gold and chalky white, as if someone had taken a cosmic paintbrush to the Earth. Wind-carved walls dropped off into labyrinthine chasms, some rising like cathedrals, others curled like sleeping dragons.

We have experienced numerous canyons of the American Southwest, including the Grand Canyon of course, on our epic 9,000-mile trans-America overland road trip. We have also explored canyons on other continents, the Todra Gorge in Morocco, for example. But Yangykala holds its own surreal, otherworldly twist. While the Grand Canyon astounds with its sheer scale and layered geological history and Todra Gorge impresses with its narrow, vertical cliffs perfect for rock climbers, Yangykala mesmerizes with its vivid, almost unnatural palette of fiery reds, chalky whites and deep purples, as if painted by an abstract artist - think Artists Palette at Death Valley. Unlike the Colorado River’s patient carving of the Grand Canyon or the Todra River’s relentless erosion, Yangykala’s formations were shaped by an ancient sea and then sculpted by the relentless winds of the Karakum Desert, leaving behind a dreamlike landscape of jagged mesas and isolated buttes that glow like embers at sunset.

Yangykala Canyon

The most iconic of all? “Crocodile’s Mouth”, a massive, gaping ridge that juts into the canyon like some prehistoric beast about to snap shut. We sat on its snout, not having courage to dangle our legs over the abyss, but close enough to munch on sunflower seeds and watch shadows stretch across millennia.

Yangykala Canyon

Here's the mind-blowing part: this whole place used to be underwater. Yep. Around 5 to 20 million years ago during the Miocene and Pliocene epochs, this area was part of a shallow inlet of the Caspian Sea, now known as the Garabogazköl lagoon.

Ancient seashells at Yangykala Canyon

Marine sedimentation sculpted the kaleidoscope of sedimentary layers we see today. You can still spot seashells - yes, actual seashells - embedded in the rocks and scattered across the Yangykala Plateau and canyon floor like forgotten whispers from an ancient ocean.

Yangykala Canyon

As climate shifts and tectonic movements played their age-old game, the lagoon receded, leaving behind salt pans, wind-eroded cliffs and the mighty, silent storybook of Yangykala. In the 20th century, Soviet engineers even tried redirecting Caspian waters, only to speed up the drying process and confuse the region’s ecosystem.

Yangykala Canyon

Locals speak of fire spirits that once guarded the canyon’s cliffs, of a slumbering giant turned to stone and of the glowing red walls being stained by the blood of fallen heroes in ancient battles. You hear stories of a goddess who wept seas of saltwater, now lying fossilized in the desert dust. It’s hard to argue when the place looks like it belongs in myth. By sunset, the entire landscape turns molten. It isn't just a canyon - it is a living canvas. 

The lonely Yangykala Canyon Viewpoint

Remote and rarely visited, Yangykala thankfully lacks the crowds of its famous counterparts, offering a raw, solitary grandeur that feels like stepping onto another planet.

No cell signal. No tourists. Just us, the Hilux and an ancient seabed that now wears a crown of fire.

Yangykala Canyon, Turkmenistan

After a soul-stirring experience and boxed lunches at Yangykala Canyon, it was time to pack up the Hilux, brush off some very confused beetles and hit the road again - or whatever loosely stitched collection of gravel, rock and mirage passed for a road.

Our next destination: the mythical mountain village of Nokhur (Nohur). But not before a long, long drive through the wild, wind-whipped western heart of Turkmenistan.

Across Dust and Time: From Yangykala to Balkanabat via Ak Kuyu, Komsomol & Tasharvat

From Yangykala, we took a wide arc south, passing through the hamlets of Irkli, Ak Kuyu (meaning “White Well”) and Komsomol - sleepy villages where life moves with the sun, the wells are deep and satellite dishes oddly pepper the mudbrick homes like futuristic barnacles. Local kids waved as we rattled by and herds of goats eyed us suspiciously, clearly unimpressed by the Hilux’s dust trail.

We stopped briefly near Oglanly for a quick break and a look at the sweeping emptiness of the Karakum plateau. Somewhere near Tasharvat, a cluster of ancient-looking ruins whispered secrets we couldn’t quite decipher. No plaques, no signs - just crumbling stone, sun-bleached and forgotten. Maybe a lost caravan post? A ghost town? A mirage? We’ll never know. That’s the beauty of this country - half the adventure is in not knowing.

Eventually, we rolled into the city of Balkanabat. After what felt like hours of relentless bumping and dodging potholes that could hide a camel, a paved road under our wheels felt like luxury. We parked near the main square, found a charming little café (serving surprisingly good espresso, thank you ex-Soviet chic), stretched our sore backs and watched the world go by. Balkanabat itself doesn’t scream tourist hotspot, but there’s a quiet charm - tree-lined avenues, faded murals and the lingering scent of Soviet ambition.

A Late-Night Arrival in Nokhur - Mountains, Myths & a Dinner Fit for Khans

As the sun dipped low, we started the climb into the Kopet Dag mountains, a rugged range that forms the natural border with Iran. Our final destination, Nokhur Village (Nohur Village) is nestled in the highlands - one of the highest inhabited points in the Kopet Dag (confirmed: ~1,100 meters elevation) - and hands-down one of the most enchanting places we’ve ever visited.

We rolled into Nokhur just before dinner time, headlights dancing off stone walls and sleepy donkeys. Our host family welcomed us like long-lost cousins - Turkmen hospitality is something else. Before we knew it, shoes were off and we were ushered into a big warm room, where a low raised table (sofra) sat surrounded by plush carpets and floor cushions.

Then came dinner. And oh, what a dinner.

The Full Turkmen Feast Experience ???

Traditional Turkmen Dinner with locals in Nohur, Turkmenistan

Course after course arrived with practiced grace:  

- Chorek (freshly baked flatbread) still warm, torn by hand.  

- Shurpa, a clear lamb broth with chunks of carrot and potato that hugged the soul.  

- Plov - golden rice cooked in lamb fat with raisins, chickpeas and slivers of fried onions.  

- Ichlekli, the famous meat pie of Nohur, stuffed with spiced ground meat and herbs.  

- Kuurdak, sizzling lamb chunks with potatoes and cumin.  

- Sweet gok chai (green tea) flowed like wine, followed by fresh fruit, honeyed pastries and sweet halva for dessert.

We ate till we couldn’t move. Literally. Then our hosts laid out mattresses on thick carpets, layering us with plush blankets and soft pillows that felt like clouds. No joke - we slept like royalty. And not just because of the food coma.

Lada Niva 4x4

In the morning, we admired our host’s pristine Lada Niva - a 2016-ish model in mint condition. Sleek lines, boxy soul and that unmistakable “I can climb a cliff” attitude. These rugged machines are everywhere in Turkmenistan, often parked nonchalantly in spots where even our Hilux had second thoughts. Respect.

The Spiritual Heart of Nokhur: Of Sufis, Greeks and Goat-Horned Graves

Nohur isn’t just a village - it’s a living legend.

The name “Nokhur” is believed to derive from “Noah’s People,” and many locals claim descent from soldiers of Alexander the Great, who settled here with Persian wives. Others trace their roots to early Greek tribes or Biblical figures. Add to that Sufi mysticism, Zoroastrian whispers and Islamic reverence and you get a cultural stew as rich as their plov.

We started our morning at the village cemetery, a peaceful plot under open skies. Each grave is topped with goat horns - a sacred Nohur tradition said to ward off evil spirits and guide the soul to heaven. The place felt ancient, sacred and somehow timeless.

Then we climbed to Giz Bibi’s Cave - a shrine tucked high in the rocks, dedicated to the mythical virgin saint Giz Bibi, a protector of purity and women. Her story intertwines with that of the Paris (fairy beings) in local lore. Pilgrims still visit her cave, leaving scarves and offerings, seeking blessings for fertility, healing and protection.

Nokhur (Nohur) Village view from slopes of Kopet Dag Mountains

From there, we hiked to the foothills of the Kopet Dag Mountains - specifically the Childuhtaron Range - and stood gazing at the expansive emerald cradle of Nokhur. Surrounded by forested slopes, stone terraces and wild pomegranates, it truly earns its spot on the list of the top 100 most romantic places in the world. We don’t know who made the list, but they nailed this one.

Of Ancient Plane Tree with gigantic Hollow and Lovers’ Mountain

Nokhur Plane Tree

Our next stop? A gigantic ancient plane tree (Platanus orientalis), hollowed by centuries, said to have sheltered Noah’s family during the great flood. You can literally step inside it - up to eight people fit within the tree’s living cathedral. Locals still revere it, hanging prayer flags and selling medicinal herbs, wild honey and healing roots near its base.

Nokhur Plane Tree

Gnarled and towering, its massive trunk and sprawling roots are draped in offerings - colorful cloth strips, animal horns and trinkets - left by pilgrims who believe the tree holds sacred power. Local legends claim it sprouted from the staff of a sufi saint or that its roots guard a hidden spring blessed by fire-worshippers. Unlike the manicured plane trees of Persia or Turkey, Nokhur’s tree feels wild, untamed - a relic of pre-Islamic Central Asia where nature was divinity. It is a rare surviving link to Zoroastrian tree-worship, later absorbed into Islamic Sufi traditions. Villagers tie cloth strips to transfer ailments to the tree’s spirit - a practice echoing Silk Road shamanism. Thriving in Nokhur’s harsh climate, it symbolizes resilience, its roots gripping the mountain like fingers.

On our way down the winding mountain road, we stopped at Lovers’ Mountain - a cliffside lookout where generations of Nohuri lovers have carved their initials into the stone. The view of the valley below, kissed by clouds and birdsong, was… well, romantic doesn’t even begin to cover it.

A Dip into the Earth’s Hot Heart: Köw-Ata Underground Lake

The road wound us eastward, past farmlands and grazing pastures, to one of the weirdest, coolest places in Turkmenistan: Köw-Ata Underground Lake.

Stairs leading down in cave to Kow Ata Underground Lake

Beneath a craggy hill, a steep staircase (350 steps each way!) led us down into a cavernous abyss deep below the ground. First birds and then bats scurried around us as we climbed down deeper. The sulfur-tinged air grew humid and thick, the light dimmed into pitch-black darkness punctuated by colorful LED lights along the stairs' guide rails. And then - we reached the lake. Turquoise, slightly sulfurous and steaming gently, Köw-Ata ("Father of Caves") is fed by underground hot springs, maintaining a toasty ~33–38°C year-round.

Kow Ata Underground Lake

As expected in a place like these which has also been continually inhabited since ancient times, this Father of Caves is steeped in legends that blur the line between earth and spirit world.

One legend says the lake was carved by a primordial giant who soaked here to heal his wounds, leaving behind sulfur-infused waters with curative powers. To this day, pilgrims bathe in its 35°C (95°F) depths, believing it cures arthritis and sorrow alike.

Another older Zoroastrian tale whispers that the cave was once the den of a fire dragon, its breath heating the waters. Some claim to hear echoes of its growls in the cave’s drips and rumbles.

The steep, 60-meter descent into darkness led ancient shepherds to believe it was a portal to Duzakh (hell), guarded by jinn (spirits). Offerings of coins were tossed into the lake to appease them.

Kow Ata Underground Lake

The lake’s endemic, translucent blind fish (like all deep cave lake fish, these fish never evolved eyes in total darkness) are said to be cursed souls transformed for trespassing in the sacred waters. Eating them is taboo - a sure invitation to misfortune.

This isn’t just a tourist site - locals celebrate weddings, birthdays and life milestones here. Some even believe the waters have healing powers, good for bones, skin and the soul. Though we did not take a quick swim, we wet our legs up to our waists in the therapeutic water, dodging fish and basking in the strange serenity of being inside the Earth’s belly.

Kebabs being grilled outside Kow Ata Underground Cave Lake

Climbing back up the stairs was a cardio workout we hadn’t planned for, but the kebabs grilling outside made up for it. Charcoal-seared lamb, flatbread, pickled onions and more green tea. Heaven.

Back to Ashgabat: The Marble Mirage

By late evening, we were back on the immaculate white highways of Ashgabat, our Hilux purring after the desert ordeal. The now-familiar skyline rose like a sci-fi mirage - gleaming towers, golden domes and palm-lined boulevards that made us wonder if we’d time-traveled.

Saparmurat Hajji Mosque, Gokdepe seen from M37 Motorway towards Ashgabat

Our next leg? Ruins of the historic city of Old Nisa,  ancient Silk Road ruins of Merv (Mary), Amul (Turkmenabat) and the legendary Dayahatyn Caravanserai. More crumbling backroads, more Turkmen Autobahn bliss and more mountains shadowing the Iran and Afghanistan borders.

TV Tower with World's Largest Architectural Star seen from Archabil Hwy into Ashgabat

But for now, our boots are off, tea is brewing and our hearts are full. Follow us on the next episode as we wander through the echoes of ancient empires, chase desert caravans and seek out the lost cities of the Silk Road (see [Episode 3: DARVAZA - Jähennem derwezesi (Gate of Hell) | The closest thing on Earth to an alien planet!]).

- The Vagabond Couple