This is one of the most perilous roads
in the world, the innocent-sounding M56. It's hell to drive on in summer,
as in winter. Summer has so much dust, you can't see the other vehicles
coming from the other way. The dust causes so many accidents
on this road. A dirt road
that runs for over 1,200 kilometers, linking Neryungri to Yakutsk,
a town isolated in the depths of Siberia. Constructed under Stalin, it's so cold here, with -65 Celsius
not uncommon, that tar won't grip, so thousands of tons
of stones were used instead, causing appalling vibrations,
unleashing a force that saps man's energy, and ruins even the biggest juggernauts. We have to pay taxes to maintain the road,
but there is no road. With the rains, the road dissolves
and the earth turns into mud, a thin, watery mud
that sometimes engulfs trucks all the way up to their doors. With no hope of rescue for days at a time,
it provokes massive traffic jams. Why are you armed? The local bandits who do as they please,
and block off the road to rob us. Some have made a good living from the road
be it through trade or robbery. The bear was coming at me on all fours,
and then he started to run. He was fast, like flying. I realized straight away
he was going to attack. Under the watchful eye of Lenin, the large Russian mining town of Neryungri
is slowly waking up. The last few rays of sunshine
before the big freeze to come. Neryungri is at the end of the world, the last stop
on the Trans-Siberian routes. Beyond there is just
the great frozen north. A much-prized commodity is being loaded up
at the Central station, beer. Millions of liters of beer. Up here, it's more popular than vodka. Igor, age 42, an Afghanistan war veteran, is making sure
his consignment has arrived. He's embarking on one
of the most dangerous roads in the world, and his merchandise is not even insured. Do many bottles get broken? You bet they do,
and it's me who has to pay for them. [Russian spoken audio] There, I've loaded 18 tons of beer, and I have 72 hours
to get them to their destination without breaking any
along this infernal road. Hi there, here is to good luck.. Okay, kid, don't let me down,
let's hope all goes well. Good. Yakutsk, here we come. In his old second-hand Japanese truck,
Igor prays. Dear Lord, make it all okay. Igor has 1,200 kilometers
ahead of him, alone, through the vastness
of the Siberian forests. It's 35 degrees and Igor
is soon engulfed by a plague of dust. The scariest thing is the dust,
it's just awful. You can't see the other vehicles,
coming from the other way. [Russian spoken audio] The dust causes so many accidents
on this road. It's hell for the drivers
and death for the forest. A combination of exhaust fumes
and dust settles on the pine trees, and it's a fatal cocktail. The dead trees
are called drunken pines here. A few hours into his journey, and Igor is looking anxiously at the skies
where a storm seems to be brewing. Dust and rain are his obsession. Whenever it rains, the ground liquefies,
and it becomes the road from hell. When the rains fall on the M56,
the dust turns into mud, resulting in furrows
that can be one meter deep. There's no escape, and in some places
the ground gets swept away, taking the road and trucks with it. The only way to get through
is not to stop. A drunken driver stuck fast in the mud,
caused a traffic jam of epic proportions, forcing a tailback of hundreds of trucks
stretching for 100 kilometers. This is truly the road of hell,
and of life. Life, because all the supplies
for the towns up north come this way, and hell,
since it's a roller coaster ride of fear, where we could tip over,
and lose our cargo any time. Igor is forced to slow down
to just 40 kilometers an hour. The road is a public scandal in Russia. Gigantic works were recently begun, 1 billion euro construction sites
to make it roadworthy year-round. To achieve that, a 1,000-kilometer stretch
had to be raised six meters to avoid the devastating spring floods. Hundreds of workers
have been hired for not much pay. They're known
as the dorozhnyye uchastniki, the seasonal road members. How long have you been working here? We're hired by the day, not longer. Are you from here, this region? No, we're from up north,
they made us come here. What do you do up in the north? We're shepherds, reindeer breeders. The workers are left to their own devices
when it comes to finding food. They hunt any animal
that ventures too close. [Russian spoken audio] Everyone here has a rifle In this case, a Saiga, a civilian version
of the notorious Kalashnikov. When there's no game to shoot,
they amuse themselves the best they can. [Russian spoken audio] The construction crews take part
in a shamanistic Yakutsk ritual, to ask the gods for protection,
and to ward off evil. The thousands of cubic meters of stone
being used to rebuild the road have been poorly broken down, and as a result,
they rip open the truck's tires. Igor will change
as many as 20 every month. The road is littered with burst tires. The usually overladen trucks
are transformed into mobile bombs that could tip over any time. Punctures are commonplace, so the unwritten rule
is to help those in need. Igor stops,
another driver has just punctured. Don't worry about it,
your tire has had it, throw it away. Abandoned tires are just dumped,
thousands lie along the roadside. It's not just the tires that suffer, the trucks too pay a heavy toll
along the rock strewn road. Further on, one unlucky driver
has been waiting for help for two days. His vehicle's chassis was torn apart,
unable to withstand the vibrations, and his container,
has ended up in the ditch. It means I'd have worked
for a month for free, because I'll need to repay
for the lost merchandise. It's all my earnings,
that's how it is out here. All the bosses do it. Igor knows all about the problems
caused by vibrations. He has his truck regularly inspected
by one of the improvised garages that have sprung up along the way. The mechanic does find a glitch. Here, look at these two cracks here. [Russian spoken audio] Igor asks for a complete inspection
of his truck. You found some cracks?
-Yes, a few. You see,
this is what the road does to them. This trailer is ripped up
all over the place. Everything's loose,
and the rivets are missing. It's all coming apart. The garage also has pumps,
but oddly, no one ever stops here for gas, and for good reason. The price of fuel
is three times higher than in Moscow. Cheaper fuel is actually available
just a few hundred meters away. Hidden from prying eyes,
state employed drivers, are selling their quotas of petrol
to other truckers at half the price. My state salary as a trucker is miserable,
the equivalent of 295 euros a month, that's why I'm doing this. [Russian spoken audio] You're siphoning off your own petrol
and then selling it? Yes, it's a black market
to boost my income every month, but if you film me,
I'll be immediately fired. It's only to make my life
a little bit easier. His stop at the garage
has made Igor lose valuable time. To make it up, he'll drive all night. However, he's superstitious, and there are plenty of horror stories
concerning this stretch of road. The remains of Gulags
lie abandoned alongside the road. Stalin sacrificed millions of prisoners
who died of exhaustion and the cold. Their ghosts terrify the drivers. When you're tired,
you'll start seeing ghosts. You could even think
the posts are running across the road. One time,
I saw a rock that turned into a turtle. At night, Igor's main concern
is not ghosts, but bandits. So there's no stopping
even for vehicles that may be broken down. Igor has now been behind the wheel
of his truck for 18 hours. To stop himself from falling asleep,
he listens to music at full volume. However, in the end, it's the shuddering
that forces him to stop. Exhausted, he gives up and pulls over. Quite by chance,
he stopped next to a cemetery for the victims buried near the site
of a fatal road accident. Woken by a passing truck, he notices the tombs
and quickly sets off again. He settles in later
with another group of truckers who have pitched camp,
and where it's safer. [Russian spoken audio] I've heard about the ghost
of a dead truck driver who tries to flag down passing vehicles. Yes, he was on this road
when his shaft drive broke. It's -45 and out he gets underneath
the truck to try to fix it. He's tightened it up again
and then throws his monkey wrench down. When wanting to get out
from under the truck, he realized his head was stuck
and the wrench was out of reach. So he stayed like that
for four days on his knees and all the passing vehicles
didn't see him underneath. Finally, one day,
someone stopped and found him, by then the poor guy
had frozen to death a long time before. The truckers sleep next to a quarry. The region is full of them,
as this is the land of yellow metal. The M56 goes through Aldan,
the city of gold. Mining companies rip open the ground
looking for the precious metal. Just six months ago,
this used to be a river. Siberia's Far East
attracts all types of speculators. The obligatory stop for all the truckers
is Rasim Asimov's bar. Originally from Azerbaijan,
Asimov came here ten years ago and has made a fortune. Here people like to show off their wealth. See, first, he'll take a sniff,
then he'll unwrap it and eat it. Do you go hunting, too? No, not me, I'm too scared. Show us your tongue. Rasim is more than just about bears. He has a mouth full of gold teeth
and many construction sites. I build apartment blocks. It's been a long time
since any were built in this region. Yes, that five-story building is mine. In the depths of Siberia,
Rasim's dream is New York, and a restaurant he's about to open. He's invested about 1.5 million euros,
and he's not short on ideas. Soon there'll be a uranium mine near here. There'll be lots of people arriving, lots of workers, twice as many people altogether. [Russian spoken audio] Will you make a profit
from all your investments, then? Well, there's no rush. However, gold doesn't bring everyone
in Aldan good fortune. Close by, the wives of the road workers
and truckers like Lena and Nadya, often live in reduced circumstances. Alexei, open the door. I'm expecting a baby,
so I went to see the mayor, and asked again for an apartment. I never received an answer,
so what can I do? I can't live out in the open. Here, at least
I've got a roof over my head. Life in Siberia is harsh
and the land often unproductive. The previous winter temperatures
fell as low as -63 degrees. This year's crop was very poor. Usually, the potatoes are much larger, but this time,
there was barely more than what I planted. The authorities do nothing to help? No, we live in a small town,
and the mayor's powerful, but I'd rather not get into that,
or I might get into trouble. Dust. Dust everywhere. After covering 1,200 kilometers
in less than 72 hours, a very tired Igor
finally makes it to Yakutsk. Yes, we're here, let's unload. Mission accomplished,
and none of the bottles have been broken, but the bottles still haven't reached
their final destination. There's no time to lose,
and Igor immediately sets off again in the opposite direction
without having slept. To keep himself awake,
he has a trick up his sleeve. Here's my secret recipe. When I'm sleepy,
I mix coffee and Coca-Cola. Nothing beats it for keeping you awake. The cargo of beer continues its journey
towards north east Siberia on a road even worse than the M56. It's the Kolyma Highway
heading towards Khandyga. Alexei Shabanov runs a freight company. He's hurtling down the slippery highway
at 120 kilometers an hour, because he wants to ensure
he can hand over his cargo to one of his drivers before he leaves
for the mountains in the Great North. The road is a 400 kilometer long ice rink. The marshes are extremely dangerous,
if you fall in, you'll never get out. Why? It's quicksand. Alexei is wary about crossing
through the village of Chukotka, a place that is often fatal. The local radio is playing a hit song
about bitumen and wonderful cars. On the way out of the village,
some truckers are sinking in the sludge. The van was like this,
it almost tipped over. The truck stopped to help. He tried to tow me out,
but he ended up getting stuck too. That's because it was sliding,
and my truck got sucked in gradually. See, it's clay, and it's full of water. It's like liquid now,
and my truck's too heavy. Thanks to our famous road crews,
we pay taxes to maintain the road, but there is no road. They don't maintain the road? All they do is put clay on top of clay. If it rains? Yes, if it rains, it's murder. Each hour I'm stuck will cost me money,
I'm going to lose 12,000 euros here. Come on, let's get some of these branches. Most truckers in Siberia
own their vehicles. They are responsible for their cargo,
and if damaged, they have to pay for it. This will give me more grip. The branches will stop the wheels
from sliding when I get towed out. Let me start up. [Russian spoken audio] No, it's still too slippery,
there's too much mud. They'll have to wait for a truck. How long will that take?
-Two days. We're the victims of our own roads. Okay, bye, guys. The region is not safe. Other drivers have been attacked,
but Alexei doesn't seem concerned. I've got a gun. What for? If there are problems. Do you often have problems? Sure, it happens. The locals here do what they like. They're bandits. They sometimes block the road. Really? Yes, sometimes,
especially when they've been drinking. So you've had problems yourself?
-Of course, more than once. Alexei is meant to be taking a ferry
at what looks like an unlikely spot. There's no indication
this is a makeshift dock out in the middle of nowhere. After a three-hour wait,
the ferry finally arrives. Okay, let's go. A gypsy family from Moscow
is making the 10,000-kilometer journey to the Great North, just to sell coats. Apparently, business is good. The river looks peaceful enough, but the currents are strong
and it will take the ferry two hours to cross the two kilometers
to the other side. When it's winter,
the river will be frozen solid and the vehicles can just drive over it. On board, the gypsies
negotiate their passage. Come on,
can I give you a coat for a ticket? No, I can't, my bosses check up on me. Go on, take a coat. All right, pay him, then. Thirteen hundred?
-No, it's 1,400. Come on, let me save some money for beer,
make it 1,300. I haven't had any for a whole day,
please, come on. All right, if you've got the right change. We're from Tambov, in the Moscow area. It's 400 kilometers from Moscow. We sell clothes. Would you like to buy a nice suede jacket? The next morning, Alexei Shabanov
catches up with Nikolai, his best driver. He's the only driver
willing to deliver goods to Topolinoye, a village in a mountainous area
inhabited by the Eveny people. The 300-kilometer journey will be in mud,
over mountains and through snow. That's a very tough route,
no one wants to do it. Only a truck like the Russian Zil, with its six wheel drive
can even make a stab at getting through. The road was abandoned after perestroika. Barely 20 years ago, prisoners from the Gulags
were still maintaining the route. It's an era that Nikolai still misses. This is the bridge over the Ula,
the inmates from the Gulags built it. They worked under armed guard. They built the road and the bridges. Let me tell you this,
if Stalin was still alive, this road would have reached
the Arctic by now. Nikolai has fond memories of the road
when it was as smooth as silk. Back then,
if the road wasn't perfectly flat, or a truck jolted because of a pothole, the whole construction crew responsible
would be lined up and shot. So at the time,
the road was as flat as a billiard table. What did they use in those days,
their hands? The prisoners built it
with the sweat from their brows, and with sledgehammers and wheelbarrows. During the winter they'd keep warm
in those huts over there, and even those they built themselves. Many of them died. An estimated 200,000 prisoners in this area
died from the cold and exhaustion. Nikolai knows fully well
that nature here is unforgiving. When it rains or when the thaw comes, the floods mean
you can no longer get through. You have to be very careful. Once a driver drowned
because he was in a hurry, and he wanted to cross over. The torrent of water
just swept his truck away. That stone is in memory
of a driver who was killed when he drowned in quicksand
out in the marshes. The only living soul in these parts,
is the watchman, who looks after the road crew's cabin. Hello, Boris. You're all alone? Yes, most have left now. How's the wretched Topolinoye?
-Not very good. Any bears around?
-Yes. When's the last time
you saw one, then? The day before yesterday,
it's a small one. I went out but it was late,
and I couldn't see much, the dogs barked and it left. Nicolai, have you ever seen
a bear up close? Yes, very close. The bear was creeping towards me,
then it began to run, and he was flying, he was going so fast. I knew straight away it would attack me. I hit it with my fist
because I wasn't armed, but it caught me
and I began hitting it as hard as I could. Then it ripped some skin off my face
and off my back too. It bit my hand and dislocated my shoulder. My testicles were hanging off by a thread,
he almost castrated me. I still don't know
how I forced him off me. I had to walk eight kilometers
to get back to my friend who drove me to the hospital. Was it a large bear? No, medium sized. Luckily, otherwise
it would have killed me. Nikolai is not just a truck driver. For the last ten years,
he's also a game warden in the forest. He knows animals well, but the reason
he was severely mauled by the bear was due to his own near-fatal oversight. You must never be too far
from your weapon. Never more than one or two meters. You must never put your rifle down
even for a moment, to go and do something elsewhere. Always take it with you. Because if you're surprised by a bear, you can forget
about having the time to get it. Hunted day and night,
the bears have become aggressive. In Nicholai's opinion,
it's the fault of the poachers. It's an open secret who the poachers are,
we know most of them. On the other hand, you have to be wary
about squaring up to them. The best time's when they've been drinking
and wake up with a hangover. That's when I arrest them. Otherwise, when they're sober,
they can be vicious. The only way to confiscate their weapons
is to take them by surprise. Then, you can arrest them
without too many problems. Yes. After patrolling the forest for two hours,
Nicolai sets off again towards Topolinoye. It's the last ascent, but he still has the snow
and ice-covered roads on the Verkhoyansk mount ahead of him. When it's windy, the snow freezes,
and it becomes slippery ice. This is the Molchan pass, and in winter, the wind is so strong,
that it can blow a lorry into the ravine. A lot of the bends here are very dangerous
when it's snowed over. At the summit, there's a strange altar
to honor a forgotten god. All travelers stop to leave an offering
in the hope of a safe passage. Well, if you don't leave something,
then the gods will rouse a blizzard and all the roads will become sheet ice. Before, once the temperature reached -60,
no one was allowed to drive. Now, though, we can. However, at our own risk,
because of these temperatures, the metal parts on a truck can explode,
and everything breaks down. Nicolai arrives in Topolinoye,
having covered 300 kilometers in 16 hours. It's September, and the temperature
is already zero degrees with a freezing wind,
an indication of a tough winter ahead. In a few weeks' time, the thermometer will drop
to as low as 65 below. The village was built during Stalin's day, to force the local Eveny people,
to give up their nomadic lifestyle. Nowadays,
some still move to the northern plateau to tend to their herds of reindeer. Whenever in Topolinoye, Nicolai sleeps and eats
with his friend, Garnier. This is it, here's my hotel. Garnier, hi. Here's your beer. Hey, how are you, kid? It's been a long time
that we haven't shared a meal. To celebrate Nicola's arrival, Garnier's wife has prepared
a festive meal of local trout, and as is the custom,
they toast their friendship with vodka. In these parts, people are reserved, but as tough as the country itself. Before Nikolai goes
to patrol the forest, his friend, Garnier,
has a special gift for him. The Eveny have an Aladdin's cave,
their Strongbox. Careful when you head back,
mind you don't slide or fall. In a hollow
in the permanently frozen mountain earth, the Evenies have stored
their greatest treasure, reindeer meat. The mountain is a giant refrigerator
that conserves the meat at -17 degrees in the summer, as in winter. There are hundreds of carcasses, a rich cache that guarantees
the community a huge reserve of food. It costs four euros a kilo. The present
that Garnier has set aside for his friend, is a virile,
and much prized in this region, a reindeer penis, which, when cooked,
is said to give strength and vigor. It's the day
when the reindeer herders head north, while the roads are still clear, and before the winter snows
make the region inaccessible. Several families are leaving to meet up
with their herds in the great North, as generations of nomads
have done before them. We're ready to go,
we're heading north, far, far away. Some of the Evenies
have already been up there for months. This is for the Evenies, and the geologists up north
haven't seen beer for a year now. They're taking their furs to keep warm,
and their weapons. Why are you taking all these weapons?
-There are bears and wolves up there. There are no roads here,
the only available transport is this ancient Russian half-truck,
a Vyshdirod. A versatile all terrain vehicle,
perfect for this sort of landscape. The journey
to the reindeer pasture lands, barely 100 kilometers to the north,
will take four days and nights. The Eveny, take an unmarked route,
and without the caterpillar trucks, the small expedition
would soon get bogged down. Suddenly there is a breakdown,
when one of the trucks comes undone. A breakdown in these conditions
could be catastrophic. If they get stuck it means pitching camp
in the frozen marshland, and dealing with bears. [Russian spoken audio] What's happening, then? Nothing serious,
just the truck that's come off. Will it take long to repair? Well, less than an hour. It will soon be dark. The Eveny decide to travel
with another group. The convoy
of two half-trucked vehicles is safer in case there's another breakdown. It's a new experience
for the younger Evenies. How old are you?
-Fourteen. A're you heading north too? Of course. Before heading off again,
the last bottle of vodka is drained as they toast freedom and nature. [Russian spoken audio] Russian vodka. Thank you, vodka. You understand? [Russian spoken audio] Nothing's lost. Often drunk and heavily armed,
gunshot wounds are not uncommon, as it's shooting first
and asking questions later. We're not afraid, we can kill bears,
no problem, we have all we need. [Russian spoken audio] On the overcrowded roof, men, women, and children,
will meet the night head on, and a wind so cold it burns the skin. Move your legs, I can't see anything. Ahead of them is three months
with their reindeer herds and temperatures
that never rise above 50 below. It was their ancestors way of life,
and their desire for freedom, that gives them the strength
to make this impossible journey.
