Medeu is a place where the air feels thinner and the mountains loom closer, a high-altitude rink carved into the gorge above Almaty. Sitting at nearly seventeen hundred meters, it’s the largest outdoor speed skating rink in the world, its ice stretching over ten thousand square meters. The rink opened in its current form in the early 1970s, but its reputation was built long before that—on the kind of ice that only exists here.
What makes Medeu special isn’t just its size, but the way it’s made. The ice is flooded with meltwater from the surrounding peaks, so pure and smooth that it’s almost frictionless. Combine that with the altitude, where the air offers less resistance, and you have the perfect conditions for speed. Over a hundred world records have been set here, earning the rink its nickname: the factory of records. For decades, it was the place where skaters came to push limits, where every lap could rewrite history.
Just above the rink stands the Medeu Dam, an engineering feat built in the 1960s to protect the city below. The construction was dramatic—controlled explosions shaped the gorge, and the resulting structure has held back more than one deadly mudflow. The most famous was in 1973, when a wall of water and debris threatened Almaty; the dam stopped it cold. Today, the dam is as much a part of the landscape as the mountains themselves, and the staircase leading up its face has become a local challenge. Eight hundred and forty-two steps, give or take—no one counts the same way, since the height varies and some skip the last flight entirely. Climbing it is a rite of passage, a way to test your lungs against the altitude.
In winter, the rink is open to everyone. You can rent skates at the entrance and glide across the same ice where champions once raced. Even in the off-season, when the rest of the city thaws, Medeu often keeps its ice a little longer, clinging to the cold. Summer turns the area into a different kind of escape. The air is crisp, the views unobstructed, and the mountains feel close enough to touch. Locals come up for picnics, hikes, or just to sit and watch the clouds drift over the peaks.
From Medeu, a cable car climbs higher, toward Shymbulak, the ski resort that shares the same ridge. The two are usually visited together, a natural pairing for anyone wanting to experience the mountains. The ride up is short, but the change in scenery is dramatic—one moment you’re surrounded by the hum of the rink, the next you’re in a quiet alpine valley.
Getting here from Almaty takes about half an hour by bus, though the weather can shift unexpectedly. The city might be mild and sunny, while up here the wind carries a bite and the snow lingers in patches. It’s a reminder of how quickly the landscape changes in these parts. On weekends, the parking lot fills up fast, and the buses become the easier option. The road winds up the gorge, past cliffs and pine trees, until the rink comes into view, a bright expanse of ice against the dark rock.
Above the dam, a trail leads deeper into the mountains, toward a waterfall and a small mountain hut. It’s a popular route for day trips, especially when the city heat becomes oppressive. The path is well-trodden but never crowded, winding through forests and past streams that rush with snowmelt. The higher you go, the quieter it gets, until the only sounds are the wind and the occasional call of a bird.
Medeu isn’t just a rink or a dam or a starting point for hikes. It’s a place where the city and the mountains meet, where history is written in ice and stone. Whether you come to skate, to climb, or just to breathe the thin air, it leaves an impression. The altitude stays with you long after you’ve descended, a quiet reminder of how small we are against the scale of the land.
