
Life up in the Tusheti mountains, in the north-east corner of Georgia, hasn't changed much in hundreds of years. Sheep outnumber humans and modern life has barely scratched the harsh surface.

The area is home to some of Europe’s most dangerous roads and most inhospitable environments – and one of the continent’s most incredible animal migrations. Every October hardy shepherds, fuelled by the local liquor, 'chaca', risk their lives as they drive hundreds of sheep from the mountain peaks to the lower plains of Kakheti.

To do so they have to navigate the 2,800-metre-high Abano Pass, one of the most dangerous roads in the world. It claims lives, both sheep and human, each year.

The incredible annual feat has been captured by Radio Free Europe photographer Amos Chapple who, in a shoot filled with drama from start to finish, travelled with the shepherds and produced this captivating set of images of the breath-taking descent through the mountains, which sit on the border with Russia.

Up and over: Tusheti in Georgia is known for its herds of sheep. There are over 1,000 in this herd coming down the mountain

Chapple has captured one of the lesser known animal migrations in Europe. This image shows the plain they will graze on before heading back up into the mountains

Mammoth woolly migration: These paths through the mountains aren't often seen by outsiders. The landscape is some of the most pristine in Europe

A bulldozer battles its way against the woolly tide to clear the snow off the higher parts of the Abano Pass

Dato Chkhareuli, pictured, is one of six shepherds who manage a flock of over 1,000 sheep through the tough landscape

The idea for the adventure came to him during a drone photography shoot.

He said: 'I was in Georgia over the summer and spent two days up in the Tusheti mountains. I was on an assignment to shoot the whole country with a drone. So my time in Tusheti was limited, but I was just blown away by the landscape and when I heard about the shepherds who need to migrate through those mountains I knew there was a great picture story to be had if I could get back there.'

And get back there he did, but it was quite an ordeal.

He said: ‘I had a driver, George, who helped get me up to the mountains but the vehicle we had took an absolute hammering.

‘Over three days up there we busted five tyres, had one wheel get torn off the car, then rocks smashed into the roof of the jeep and - finally - he was following a big Soviet truck up over the pass and it lost traction and slid backwards into him.

‘Everything except the wheel getting torn off happened when I was with the shepherds but it really messed with my shooting because once George got rescued by a colleague, he had to urgently get to the police to file insurance reports.’

Chapple had to be careful not to scare the sheep while he took pictures of them on the dangerous pathways in case they fell, so he kept a low, slow-moving profile

The sheep stretch out like a white ribbon through the Georgian landscape. They have to stick to the path or they could be lost

Low tech: The Georgian shepherds move down from the snow capped peaks of the Tusheti mountains each October and herd their 1,200 sheep with just sticks and dogs

The rocky paths aren't built for cars. Chapple's driver went through five tyres before being hit by a Russian truck that lost its grip on the road

Chapple was driven by a Georgian called George, whose car, pictured, was given an 'absolute hammering' on the mountain. The photographer said: 'Over three days up there we busted five tyres, had one wheel get torn off the car, then rocks smashed into the roof of the jeep and - finally - he was following a big Soviet truck up over the pass and it lost traction and slid backwards into him'

Chapple tagged along with a group of six shepherds who were moving their flock down from their mountain village, through the Abano Pass, which is about 200km from the Georgian capital, Tbilisi, to the relative safety of the plains, before the harsh Georgian winter took hold. It's a journey that people here have been making for centuries.

The Abano Pass represents one of the most acute dangers of the journey. It's a road that's well deserving of its deadly reputation.

It takes 12 hours to drive and many more to walk and snakes around stunning Alpine lakes that few people ever see.

High life: The weather changes thick and fast up in the remote Tusheti peaks. Up here the sheep graze between 3,000 and 5,000 metres above sea level

The dangerous descent takes the Georgian shepherds three full days in perilous conditions

Young puppy Georgik is carried down some of the Abano Pass as it's too frightening for him

Before tackling it, the men had a simple lunch of bread and local sheep’s cheese and made a toast with their glasses of ‘chaca’, a Georgian liquor made of grapes. They took a moment to remember a late friend who died only a few days ago in a car accident on the rocky road. On the way down, Chapple came across the friend’s concertinaed wreckage being transported off the mountain.

Other vehicles sharing the road with the shepherds include road-clearing bulldozers.

The fact that they were at the base of the pass wasn’t considered a good sign for the group - it meant heavy snow was blanketing the path ahead.

Chapple said: ‘Arguments often break out between locals and shepherds who block the roads of the Kakheti region while on their migration.’

Traffic jam: Sheep meet bulldozer as the machine battles to get up to the higher sections of the pass to clear the first snow

Chapple shared the shepherds' food of bread, local sheep's cheese and local liquor 'chaca' while he shot their traditional descent to the warmer lower slopes

It takes 12 hours to drive the Abano Pass and weather conditions can change quickly. Each year people die in car accidents. Pictured is a truck carrying the wreckage of a vehicle driven by a friend of the shepherds that they toasted during the descent

Sheep meets jeep: Many different people use the Abano pass, not just the shepherds. Sometimes that's a problem on the narrow roads

The group were one of many driving herds down to the lower slopes. Their leader, Sulkhan Gigoidze, 29, prefers the remote life compared to towns or cities.

‘I didn't want to be around people,’ he told Chapple.

Chapple continued: 'When I came down the mountain face with the shepherds it was very sketchy. Some patches of ground sloped steeply away towards empty space.

'With snow on the grass everyone was being very cautious.

'The shepherds had heavy sticks that they used for traction but I didn’t have anything, so for much of that descent I was on all fours, just shooting the occasional photo with mud all over my hands.'

Steep slopes and treacherous ground means that getting down safely is a priority for the shepherds

Dato Chkhareuli and his friends don't mind spending most of their days away from people on the remote slopes

To add to his plight, Chapple couldn’t communicate with the shepherds without his driver. The 36-year-old New Zealander speaks some Russian but no Georgian, so he had to try to not get in the way.

It was imperative he didn't slow them down and didn't interfere with the process. Any quick movements could have spooked the sheep, who could have bolted down the mountain and been killed in a fall. Each Tusheti sheep is worth $60 to the shepherds, who raise the flock for its rich meat rather than wool.

He said: 'I just had to be careful in my own movements so I didn't scare the sheep off the trail. If I stood up on a rock or something I could disrupt the whole flock so I kept a pretty low, slow-moving profile.'

The Abano Pass through the Tusheti mountains is considered one of the most dangerous roads in the world

Two by two: It's a long journey for the sheep as well as the shepherds

As well as the shepherds, Chapple had another companion, a three-month-old puppy, Georgik. He was rejected by his mother but adopted by Gigoidze and his friends.

This was the dog’s first migration and he had to be carried over the more frightening, steep sections. The shepherds use an ancient breed of Georgian sheep dog, bred to blend in with the sheep. They do this so the wolves that roam the hills can’t tell sheep from dog and keep their distance.

After two days of walking through drizzle, sleet and snow, the herders emerged from the harsh upper parts of the path. From here Chapple discovered, they needed to beat the sun, so the sheep and the men headed straight down the steep slopes to the warmer valley below. In three days the shepherds lost eight sheep - a typical migration for them.

He said: ‘If the sheep stop to rest from injury or exhaustion they soon die of exposure, are dragged into the darkness by wolves, or are taken straight to slaughter by passing locals.’

His master's voice: Georgik, the abandonded puppy, became a quick favourite amongst the shepherds

After his dramas getting up into the mountains and a dangerous descent, Chapple was relieved to think about a shower and a beer.

He said: 'It was a great feeling to share in the shepherds’ collective relief and sense of accomplishment. I made sure to follow through on my promise to buy them a kickass meal on their safe arrival to the plains and give them the photos I took.’

But for Chapple, the drama wasn’t quite over. He still had to deal with his pre-pass car troubles.

He continued: ‘When we made it down to the plains I needed to go with my driver to a police station where it turned out the guy in the truck who had crashed into our vehicle was claiming my driver had crashed into him. George was distraught so I was too caught up with that whole situation to feel much relief.

‘After that situation was cleared up - the police eventually revealed the guy to be lying - I was able to get in my own car and cruise down to get the last photos of the shepherds on the plains. It was a great feeling, and what I love about really tough travel assignments – once you’re through it every beer tastes crisper, every shower feels better.’

One of the shepherds gestures as the gigantic herd moves past him in the wet and cold landscape

The shepherds look forward to a hot shower and a cold beer once they're back on the lower slopes

Despite the tough circumstances, Chapple is thinking about doing it all again and documenting the reverse migration back up the mountain in the spring.

He said: 'It seemed as if they didn’t think I would be able to make the return journey. It’s a big ask.

'On the return journey if someone gets hurt or exhausted, it can mess things up to the point they can lose their livelihood, if the sheep get too cold or hungry when the march slows down.

'I would need to make sure I’m super, super fit.

'The march down was very tough, but the march back up is much, much tougher.'

The Tusheti mountains are on Europe's north-east border with Russia. In summer they are breathtaking, in winter they can be deadly

It's important to get down the mountain before the really thick winter snow sets in

Baa-rilliant: It takes dogs, horses and six men to ensure the sheep reach the safety of the lower slopes