Meet the Team: Nazrin Garibova
Regional Trail Manager, TCT Azerbaijan
Born in Baku and raised in Virginia, Nazrin was looking for some solid hiking routes in the Greater Caucasus of Azerbaijan, when she stumbled upon the TCT website. She became instrumental in getting the project off the ground in Azerbaijan during the Covid years. She recently returned to the TCT after earning her MA, and now resides in a little mountainous corner of Azerbaijan. As she says, “Indecisiveness has led me astray in the most exciting of ways.”
When she’s not scouting (and re-scouting) trails for the TCT, Nazrin can still be found out in the mountains! She’s an avid trail runner and a member of Azerbaijan’s ski mountaineering team. The winter season not only brings skiing as a bright spot to Nazrin’s days, but the start of citrus season is perhaps even more of a highlight. She doesn’t know many people who can down as many mandarins/tangerines/clementines in one sitting as she can — she can often go through several kilos a day!
In Nazrin’s Words:
Why did you want to join the TCT?
Because developing a long-distance hiking route across the South Caucasus mountains is so cool! It’s an amazing opportunity to contribute to such a project, and to highlight the best parts of my home country of Azerbaijan within it.
Favorite part/section of the TCT:
Crossing the Greater Caucasus Mountains between their northern and southern faces must be the coolest (prospective) sections of the TCT I’ve gotten to explore. These routes in the remote, backcountry areas between Guba and Gusar in the north and Ismayili and Gebele on the southern side, are magical. It feels like traversing between two separate worlds, and the “in-between” space – the isolation, altitude, and sheer distance from the ordinary – feels otherworldly.
Memorable moment:
Back in late fall of 2021, I found myself in a moment of utter frustration and mounting pressure as we were racing against a deadline to submit a trek proposal to the Tourism Board. It was a 100-kilometer route, winding through some of the most awesome terrain in Azerbaijan’s Gakh region, including an incredible 40 kilometers along a ridgeline. There was just one issue: there was no known way to safely descend. For months, we’d scoured maps and consulted locals, and explored multiple conceivable exits from the mountain. Each attempt left us empty-handed as every potential descent proved too dangerous to recommend.
On a particular day in late November, it was my last chance to find this missing piece of the trail. I’d planned a potential route to the best of my abilities and resources, and set out with a local guide to finally find this elusive path. But hours ticked by, our hopes dwindled, and the dreaded realization that we’d hit another dead end began to heavily dawn on us. Dusk began to settle over the mountain, and gave in to the weight of forty wasted kilometers and a looming deadline pressing down by slumping dramatically to the forest floor, giving in to the mountain that seemed to have won against us.
Minutes later, soft, deliberate footsteps broke the silence. Stepping delicately, slyly through the forest, was a beagle. A beautiful, curious dog appeared out of nowhere, wagging its tail as if to teasingly ask what could possibly be the problem that’s got us so down. Petting and playing with this random new friend calmed our frayed nerves a bit.
And then the dog turned around to perform a miracle. The beagle started walking down the mountain, clearly knowing exactly where it was going through its deliberate movements; so, intrigued, and out of other options, we decided to follow. A few hundred meters later, we appeared on a trail, obscured by fallen leaves. The trail became clear and navigable as it winded down toward the village of Mamrukh in Zaqatala.
The descent we’d been searching for all these months had been right there, waiting for a guardian angel in the form of a dog to show us the way. We reached the deadline with time to spare and submitted an epic 100-kilometer section along the southern face of the Caucasus. I’m still so grateful for the beagle for saving our project that year (if I may be so dramatic).
Most special part of the TCT:
The work we do for TCT gives us the opportunity to contribute meaningfully to the development of outdoor recreation in the region. In Azerbaijan, we have placed a strong focus on working towards accessible hiking to the local public and instilling confidence in exploring and enjoying the incredible landscapes of our region (both through physical hiking information, and through outreach and seminars that my colleagues Abu and Gunay have spearheaded). I also admire that the TCT is about laying the groundwork for a trail development infrastructure that can empower local youth in rural areas to take ownership of the trails.
Why should people hike or get involved with the TCT?
Because… why wouldn’t you?! The trails of the Caucasus hold adventure and entertainment for the history buff, the geology nerd, the humans and communities lover, and, this goes without saying, anyone who loves an impeccable view of some amazing landscapes.
I think another really powerful part of the TCT is its ability to take its hiker along a journey that will break down the predisposed misconceptions of someone visiting a region so deeply embellished with stereotypes and bad raps. Just a few kilometers along the trail will teach you more about the land and its communities than countless sensational headlines about violence and hatred ever could.
