You’ve probably seen the photos. A glowing, orange maw in the middle of a black desert, looking exactly like a portal to the underworld. It’s the Darvaza gas crater, and honestly, it’s one of those rare places that actually looks like the postcards. But here is the thing: almost everything you’ve heard about how it started is likely a myth, or at least a very educated guess that became "fact" through internet repetition.
It’s burning. It’s loud. It smells like sulfur and old matches.
Standing on the edge of the Karakum Desert in Turkmenistan, you realize the scale is what gets you first. It’s not just a hole. It’s a 230-foot-wide cauldron of fire that has been roaring for decades. Most people call it the "Door to Hell," a nickname that stuck so well even the local government eventually leaned into it for tourism, despite various attempts to rename it something more dignified like "Shining of the Karakum."
The 1971 Origin Story Might Be a Lie
The most common story you’ll find on Wikipedia or in travel blogs is that Soviet engineers were drilling for oil in 1971 when the ground collapsed. Fearing the release of poisonous methane gas, they supposedly tossed a match into the pit, thinking it would burn out in a few weeks.
Fifty-something years later, we’re still waiting.
However, local Turkmen geologists have a different take. Some suggest the collapse actually happened in the 1960s and it didn't start burning until the 1980s. There’s a strange lack of Soviet records regarding the specific incident, which isn't surprising given how the USSR handled industrial accidents. George Kourounis, the first explorer to actually go into the crater in 2013, noted that even he couldn't find an official paper trail. It's a mystery wrapped in a fireball.
The sheer volume of gas being wasted here is staggering. Turkmenistan sits on some of the largest natural gas reserves on the planet. While the Darvaza gas crater is a spectacle, for the government in Ashgabat, it’s basically a leaky faucet that’s been running for half a century. It’s a literal bonfire of potential revenue.
🔗 Read more: Why the Map of Colorado USA Is Way More Complicated Than a Simple Rectangle
What It’s Actually Like at the Edge
It is quiet. Then it isn't.
The Karakum Desert is incredibly silent at night, which makes the roar of the crater feel even more alien. It sounds like a jet engine idling. Or maybe a distant waterfall, if water was made of combustion. When the wind shifts, the heat hits you like an oven door opening. You can feel your eyebrows twitching from the temperature.
Basically, you’re standing on the rim of a massive industrial accident that has become a naturalized part of the landscape.
There are no railings. No "keep back" signs. No gift shops—at least not right at the edge. You just drive through the sand dunes, park your 4x4, and walk up to the burning pit. It’s one of the few places left on Earth where the "dangerous" thing is just... there. You have to be smart enough not to fall in. Interestingly, the sand around the rim is loose. It crumbles. If you get too close to the overhangs, you’re gambling with a very hot ending.
The George Kourounis Expedition
In 2013, explorer George Kourounis teamed up with National Geographic to see if life could exist in such an extreme environment. He went down in a heat-reflective suit, looking like an astronaut on a lava planet.
- He found bacteria living at the bottom.
- These weren't just any bacteria; they were extremophiles thriving in the high-temperature, methane-rich soil.
- This discovery was actually huge for astrobiology, helping scientists understand how life might exist on planets that don't look anything like Earth.
It turns out the Darvaza gas crater isn't just a tourist trap; it’s a laboratory.
💡 You might also like: Bryce Canyon National Park: What People Actually Get Wrong About the Hoodoos
The Repeated Threats to Close It
Every few years, the President of Turkmenistan goes on state television and orders the crater to be extinguished. It happened in 2010. It happened again in 2022. The reasoning is always the same: it’s bad for the environment, it’s wasting valuable resources, and it’s affecting the health of people living nearby (though the tiny village of Darvaza was actually dismantled years ago).
But put yourself in their shoes. How do you actually put out a fire that big?
You can't just dump sand on it. The pressure of the gas would just find a new way out, potentially creating smaller, more dangerous leaks all over the desert. You could try a "nuclear plug"—a method the Soviets actually used to seal runaway gas wells by detonating a sub-surface nuke to pinch the pipe shut—but that’s a PR nightmare and a logistical mess. For now, the "Door to Hell" stays open because closing it is a Herculean task that no one has quite figured out the budget for.
Getting There: The Logistics of a Hermit Kingdom
Turkmenistan is not an easy place to visit. It’s often ranked alongside North Korea in terms of visa difficulty. You usually need a Letter of Invitation (LOI) and a mandatory guide.
If you’re serious about seeing the Darvaza gas crater, you have to commit. Most travelers take a bumpy, three-hour ride from Ashgabat—the capital city made almost entirely of white marble—into the desert. The road is riddled with potholes that could swallow a small car. You’ll likely camp in a yurt nearby.
Eating dinner while watching the desert sky glow orange on the horizon is an experience that stays with you. The contrast is wild. One minute you’re in a city that looks like a futuristic sci-fi movie set, and the next you’re in a tent eating shashlik (grilled meat) by the light of a perpetual methane fire.
📖 Related: Getting to Burning Man: What You Actually Need to Know About the Journey
The Environmental Reality
We need to talk about the methane. Methane is significantly more potent as a greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide. While burning the gas (flaring) is technically better for the atmosphere than letting raw methane leak directly into the air, having a giant open-air burner for 50 years isn't exactly "green."
Environmentalists have pointed out that the crater is a massive point-source of carbon emissions. However, the leak isn't just at the crater. The entire region is "leaky." Turkmenistan has been under international pressure to modernize its aging Soviet-era gas infrastructure to stop these massive leaks. The crater is just the most visible symptom of a much larger industrial problem.
Myths vs. Reality
People love to say that birds fly into the crater and get cooked mid-air. I've heard that one a lot. While it's true that the heat creates significant updrafts, you don't exactly see a rain of roasted sparrows. Most animals are smart enough to stay away.
Another misconception is that the crater is the only one. There are actually three craters in the area.
- The Water Crater: A collapsed sinkhole filled with bubbling water.
- The Mud Crater: Bubbling gray mud with a faint smell of gas.
- The Fire Crater: The one everyone talks about.
If you go, make sure your guide takes you to the others. They aren't as dramatic, but they help you understand the geology of the region. The whole ground is basically a honeycomb of gas pockets and shifting sands.
Actionable Steps for the Intrepid Traveler
If you’re planning to visit the Darvaza gas crater, don't just wing it.
- Secure your visa early. This is the biggest hurdle. Use a reputable agency like StanTours or Owadan Tourism. They handle the LOI which is 90% of the battle.
- Go in the shoulder season. Late spring (April/May) or early autumn (September/October) are best. The Karakum Desert is brutal in the summer (110°F+) and surprisingly freezing in the winter.
- Pack a high-quality mask. Not for COVID, but for the dust and the occasional sulfur fumes. If the wind turns, the air quality at the rim drops instantly.
- Check the news. Since the President has a habit of "ordering" it closed, check the latest travel reports. While it's unlikely to disappear overnight, access rules in Turkmenistan can change on a whim.
- Bring a tripod. If you want those "National Geographic" shots, you need long exposures at night. Handholding a camera at the rim usually results in blurry orange blobs.
The Darvaza gas crater is a monument to human error and the raw power of the earth. It shouldn't exist, yet it does. It's a reminder that sometimes our mistakes take on a life of their own, burning bright enough to be seen from space, long after the people who lit the match are gone.
Whether it burns for another fifty years or someone finally finds a way to snuff it out, it remains the most honest tourist attraction in Central Asia. It doesn't pretend to be anything other than what it is: a beautiful, terrifying, accidental hole in the world.