In the middle of Turkmenistan’s Karakum Desert—where logic goes to die of heatstroke and GPS signals flee in terror—there’s a burning pit so infernal it’s been nicknamed The Door to Hell. This is not a metaphor. This is not a tourist gimmick. This is a crater of fire, over 200 feet wide and 100 feet deep, that has been burning non-stop since 1971. And yes, it was 100% caused by humans who thought they knew what they were doing.
Let’s be clear: this thing wasn’t discovered, it was created. On purpose. By scientists.
How It Started: Soviet Science Meets “Let’s Just Light It”
Back in the early ’70s, Soviet geologists were doing what they did best—drilling holes in the Earth and hoping oil or gas came out. In this case, they hit a pocket of natural gas beneath the surface of the desert. Unfortunately, the ground beneath their rig collapsed, swallowing the equipment and leaving behind a yawning cavern of methane.
So what did they do? Cap it? Fill it? Back away slowly?
No. They set it on fire.
The logic? Better to burn off the gas than risk a toxic leak.
The expectation? A few weeks of flames.
The reality? It’s still burning over 50 years later.
No one knows exactly how much gas is still down there. At this point, the pit may be tapping into some eldritch energy source that just hates silence and un-scorched earth.
The Vibe: If Mordor and a Gas Stove Had a Baby
Standing near the crater is like staring into the world’s angriest fireplace. The ground rumbles. The air warps from the heat. The smell is a mix of brimstone and your worst barbecue accident. There are no safety barriers, no warning signs, and definitely no common sense. You can walk right up to the edge if you want—just try not to sneeze too hard or you might fall in and become an offering to the flame gods.
At night, it glows like a portal to another dimension. The kind of place where you’d expect a cloaked figure to appear and demand a blood sacrifice or challenge you to a riddle.
Tourism, But Make It Apocalyptic
Despite—or because of—its reputation, the Door to Hell has become a magnet for the curious, the thrill-seekers, and the deeply unwell. Backpackers pitch tents a few feet from the edge like that’s a normal thing to do. Instagram influencers dangle over it in flip-flops, smiling through the sweat of existential dread.
Turkmenistan’s government once considered extinguishing the crater to reduce gas waste and make the area “safer.” Then they realized no one was coming here for safety. They were coming for fire. For chaos. For the chance to roast marshmallows on the breath of Beelzebub himself.
Science? Geology? No, This Is Vengeance
Geologically, this whole thing is a side effect of poor planning, unstable earth, and a casual disregard for the limits of nature. It’s a slow-motion disaster that never stopped being spectacular. No fence. No supervision. Just a giant burning hole that hums like a demon’s microwave.
But in a way, the Door to Hell is honest. It’s a glowing, roaring monument to human arrogance. A reminder that sometimes, when you mess up just right, you leave behind something too hot to handle, too cool to ignore, and too cursed to ever be fixed.
Final Thought: Let It Burn
In a world full of sanitized travel experiences and curated safety, the Door to Hell stands as one of the last raw, untamed spectacles of our species’ ability to make a mistake and then watch it burn forever. It’s not a natural wonder. It’s a manmade scar. A fire pit of shame, awe, and questionable decisions.And it’s beautiful.
In a “we probably shouldn’t be this close to it” kind of way.
Featured image: By Tormod Sandtorv – Flickr: Darvasa gas crater panorama, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=18209432
