Karabash was once on lists of the most polluted places on earth, and the hills around it still carry the scars. For most of the twentieth century, the copper smelter at the heart of the town poured sulphur dioxide and heavy metals into the air, killing the forest on the surrounding slopes and leaving bare, eroded, orange and grey hills that look like another planet. By the 1990s, the town had a notorious reputation, and in 2006, an environmental group named it among the dirtiest places in the world. The old smelter has since been shut down and replaced, and the town has been trying to recover, with replanting efforts on the hills. The change is gradual, but real.
The history of Karabash is one of mining. Gold was found in the area in the nineteenth century, and copper followed, and the settlement grew up around the works. About fifteen thousand people live here now, in a mix of old wooden houses and Soviet blocks, on the edge of a small lake. The town is not pretty, but it is honest, and the people are used to being the subject of curiosity. A small museum and a memorial to the workers sit in the centre.
What makes Karabash interesting for a rider is the contrast. A few kilometres away, the Southern Urals offer the opposite: clean lakes, pine woods, granite cliffs, and old mountains, and the famous Lake Turgoyak, one of the clearest in Russia, is not far. The roads here wind through low hills, with a mix of good tarmac and patched sections, and the traffic is moderate. To the east, the plain stretches away toward Chelyabinsk. The weather is changeable, with hot summers and cold winters, and in spring, the snow melts quickly and leaves mud.
Practical matters are straightforward. Karabash has petrol stations, shops, and cafés, and it is a handy place for a stop, though Kyshtym, about thirty-four kilometres off, is the bigger centre. Accommodation is limited, and most visitors stay in Miass or at the lakes. Dust from the old tailings can be a nuisance in dry weather, so keep windows and visors closed on windy days.
If you stop, look at the hills and think about what a century of industry can do. It is a strong lesson, and it is also a hopeful place, because trees are beginning to grow back.