Yaksha is a name on the map of the Komi Republic, a scatter of forest settlement on the upper reaches of the Pechora, in a district where the population is counted in handfuls per hundred square kilometres. The nearest proper town is Troitsko-Pechorsk, some way to the north, and between the two lies taiga: spruce, fir and pine in long dark ranks, broken by bogs, rivers and the occasional logging clearing.
The geography is the story. The Pechora rises in the northern Urals and runs a long way north before it turns to the Arctic, and in its upper course it is fast, clear and full of fish, with grayling, taimen and salmon in the colder reaches. The valley is lined with old river terraces and low hills, with limestone outcrops in places, and in autumn the larch turns a pale, burning yellow against the dark spruce. This is Komi country, and the Komi have lived off this forest for centuries, hunting, fishing, gathering berries and mushrooms, and herding reindeer to the north. A fair number of the older settlements have shrunk since the Soviet years, when logging camps and forced-labour settlements dotted the region, and what remains is often a handful of houses, a store and a school.
Riding here is serious. The roads are mostly forestry tracks and rough local routes, gravel and dirt, with long stretches of washboard and mud, and rivers crossed by simple bridges or fords. A dual-sport bike is the right tool, and you should expect to go slowly. There is almost no traffic, so a breakdown can mean a long wait, and mobile coverage is patchy or absent. In summer, mosquitoes and midges are ferocious, and a head net is a basic necessity. Weather can turn cold and wet in any month, and snow can arrive in September. The best window is late June to early September, though July is the buggy peak.
Fuel and supplies are the real challenge. Tell someone where you are going, and keep a paper map.
Spend a little time just listening. The only sounds are likely to be wind, water, and the odd bird.