I ride through a “town” in the late afternoon and take notice of the local wells. As I walk towards a pump, I ask a woman for some water. She takes my bottle in and fill it up. Riding further on, past all the buses, the trucks, and the truck drivers washing up from the well water…I stop to fill all my bottles up.
By the looks of the trucks and buses, I have a feeling this may be the last stop for awhile. I debate on eating but decide to continue on.
As I ride out of the truck stop, a big rig pulls over and the driver is filming me riding. He is smiling, waving, and encouraging me to continue riding past him. I do as the director says and he passes me later with a friendly honk.
An abandoned “kofe” on the outskirts of the truck stop…the only life I saw were donkeys hiding in the shade.
Within a few kilometers, I find myself in the Steppe. The headwind picks up just a little, but not too bad yet. But the lack of life…is…well…stunning. I’m beginning to question if I’m headed into a desert…AGAIN! As you know, I notoriously have problems with desert dwellers.
As I begin the final climb up onto the Steppe, it’s getting warm and I’m hungry. I think I can continue on without a bite to eat but I finally give in to resting in a bus stop and cooking some pasta. The wind has picked up and there is a small village about 3 kilometers away.
As I begin to set up my stove a car pulls up. There is a Russian driver and a Kazakh man in the back seat. The passenger stays in the car and we make small talk through the window. After the basics, he offers me a cigarette. No thanks. Then gum. He really wants me to have the gum.
He knows I’m preparing to cook something and the next thing that comes out the window is 1000 dollar note. Whoa!? Really? He’s very, very insistent I take it. I actually didn’t know how much it was until after he left because it was folded up and I just put it in my pocket. After 3 days in Kazakhstan, I have more money than I started with.
Then I’m offered his cell phone to call my mother in the US. I tell him she’s sleeping but thanks so much for the offer. He seems harmless enough, and his driver is pretty jovial. We continue to chit chat for a little longer then he goes on his way.
I have another visitor a little later and he’s just making sure I’m okay. He returns about 15 minutes later with an ice cold 1L Pepsi. He tells me that there is a “magazine” in town where I can get something to eat. I can’t be bothered. The Pepsi had been opened, with a sip. I try not to think about germs and enjoy my Pepsi with my hot pot of pasta.
The full stomach and wonderful kindness of strangers motivates me to continue up and over onto the Steppe. It’s still a little hot and the sun is beating down.
As I’m nearly up there, I see a truck driver give me a hand signal of a “snake”…a WW motion. Shit, I know exactly what this means…up and down up and down. And with a headwind, it means I’ll be putting in work even going down.
Near sunset I make it onto the Steppe. I’m in awe of how far I can see…am I seeing the curvature of the Earth?
I begin to hunt for camp and there is nothing to hide me from the road. I’m not really fearful of truck drivers as I have gotten encouragement from all of them. More smiles, thumbs up, and waves than China! These guys are fairly harmless.
I push off about 500 meters from the road and I am beginning to notice the mosquitos. My lazy self makes an attempt to sleep without the tent. After about an hour and near dark, I jump up choosing a few words to come out of my mouth and throw the tent up. Christ, the mosquitoes! …And it will only get worse.
This photo shows a curvature in the opposite direction because of lens distortion…and I’m limited with photo editing software right now.
Kazakhstan May 12 2012 July 6th, 2012WanderCyclist
Another awesome camp…great sleep, feeling awesome.
I take a half day, with doing laundry and washing myself next to the river. The water is ice cold so I would boil some water or let it sit in the sun for awhile.
Then I begin the ascent to the first pass.
Honey.
I distinctly remember this route of Honey too. About a kilometer up, there were two dogs neck deep in a thawing horse. I figured they were too occupied to bother me…but of course within a few meters of passing they’ve given up their taste for frosty horse for a much better looking meal.
I’ve had enough. I get off my bike, throw it down and starting running at them barking. Top of my lungs, screaming and barking. It got rid of them.
77% of an incline?! I must be a complete beast!
View looking South before setting up camp. It has gotten a bit chilly at this point.
April 24 2012 Osh to Bishkek (part vi) June 22nd, 2012WanderCyclist
Great thing I had a good view to start my day off, because I ripped my tent floor, about 3cm. Luckily, I have some special tape for tent/gear repair. I guess, traveling like this has really made me refrain my tantrums. When you try to conserve energy and no one is to hear you swear anyways…usually all I give out is an inside voice “damn it” followed by a big sigh maybe then followed by, “you’re such a sausage/idiot/dumbass” or some other self-deprecating insult.
It’s getting hot. I’ve descended from the mountains and nearing the reservoir. Nothing like melting in the sun, in a graveyard. But a pretty awesome graveyard.(I hate photographing in this bright light, ruins nearly everything.)
Today was fun. I had 2 boys on single speed bikes escort me up a mountain. They even waited for me when I was filling my fuel tank for cooking. They couldn’t have been more than 10 years old. It’s always fun to have some innocent kids making sure I’m safe. No communication, they just wanted to ride with me. This is the same hill/mountain that had a trailer from a truck, broken and shattered down the side. I bet that was fun for the driver! Speed kills, folks.
Bike is modeling in the direction I came from.
Camping on the lake. I had to set up away from the 2 rotting cows on the side of the hill. When I see fresh water like this, I always get a bit bummed not having a buddy around. I don’t know, it’s not the same hanging out in a lake/river alone.
April 22 2012: Osh to Bishkek (Part iv) May 30th, 2012WanderCyclist
I slept like a baby, on top of a fresh green bed of clover. It’s one of those bright mornings with the sun blaring down on me. Of course, the sunshine reminds me of waking up when I was touring with Brandon. Seeing his scraggly face peeking out of his tent wearing sunglasses. Yes…he was wearing his sunglasses in “bed”. That dude still cracks me up.
It’s going to be a warm day, but I’m well rested and fairly well fed.
Look, it’s the Kyrgyz and Uzbek border! Don’t cross over that dirt mound, you’d be breaking laws.
After this mind numbing stretch that borders Uzbekistan. I begin to ascend over some mountains towards the reservoir North of Kara-Kul.
This is proof to my brother that I’m not hanging out with “savages”. Christopher, they DO HAVE HOUSES here!
The sun is setting and it looks like a bit more up and up. It’s a winding mountain road…and the scenery is pretty pleasant.
I decide to stop and set up camp. I like to end a little early when I can to enjoy the scenery and have some thinking time.
April 21 2012: Osh to Bishkek (Part iii) May 29th, 2012WanderCyclist
Okay, so here I go, recounting the worse April Fool’s Day joke yet. And, the second most fearful time of my life. (The first being a pretty bad car wreck, where I saw my life flash before my eyes…before being thrown into the backseat headrest from the front passenger seat.)
I shove my head outside around 8am and exclaim to the tent next to me, “Oh my god, this may be the most beautiful sunrise ever!” I race out of my tent with my camera and tell the boys to chill for a little while, I’m working.
View from my tent at around 8am:
Campsite, around 8:30am:
Other images won’t be posted here, sorry. Also, no more large res images loaded – too much download activity on this site.
When I put on my frozen socks and take a walk outside. My boots are so stiff from the water freezing in the soles. This is going to be an awesome day!
The boys push off about 15 minutes before me. We can see the pass winding up the hill, black speckles (the trucks) coming down the pass.
We are estimating about 15km to the pass.
The wind begins to kick up. The sun is bright, beautiful clouds to our West.
There is a new hand signal from the drivers today. They continually make a throat cutting gesture from behind the driver’s wheel. What, death? Do you mean “death” as you slice your throat?! Okay, whatever, lets move on.
The roads are getting worse and worse. The wind picking up. Big clouds moving through the sky.
10:43 AM
11:31 AM
We sit on the side of the road before ice wall’s so the traffic can pass. Then we hustle the best we can over the ice to get to a clearing.
11:45 AM
I distinctly remember this driver. He was expressing to Matt about the skies and the road ahead and urging us to go faster. He did the same thing to me and pushed my bike past his truck. He showed a genuine concern for us and kept pointing at the clouds looming ahead.
To the right of the truck, you can see the pass leading up the hill. We have about 10km left.
We’ve been dealing with ice wall’s for awhile now. Today is the worse day. Traffic is stopped and we try to help one another throw our bikes up onto the snow…digging in the best we can. We stick close together, one will throw their bike in and then run to assist – usually me. Again, my bike weighs considerably more.
This is an example of the ice wall. Again, continually getting truck drivers cutting their throats at us.
Around noon, we are still on the 8 and half incline up the pass and the trucks are passing through the single lane. Lucas is well ahead and it’s just Matt and I.
I pull my bike out of the snow, as it’s about a half meter up the ice wall from the previous truck. I had climbed the wall and Matt had shoved the bike on top of me. I had snow in my boots and mittens but I was a safe distance from the truck.
Not 5 minutes later there is another truck coming towards us. Matt runs up with his bike and throws it up in the snow. I don’t have time. I press bike against the ice wall and then me.
Matt: “Are you sure you want to be there?”
Me: “It’s ok, I haven’t got a choice.”
The next place would of been exactly where I had been.
I make eye contact with the driver, at nearly eye level. I’m watching the tail end of the truck. It’s coming closer and closer and closer AND CLOSER…I’m in between the bike and the truck. The truck is a couple centimeters from my handlebars and bags and I envision myself getting pulled in with the bike under the wheel well….
The second loudest scream on tour as I envision my bowels being cut open by the truck. Or the bike being clipped and pulling me into the wheels, with me in between.
Lesson Learned: When a riding partner doubts your decision in life or death moments…DOUBT YOUR DECISION.
12:41
We take a break after the death ice wall, Matt shares the story with Lucas and the decision has been made to have lunch at the top of the pass…about 3km away.
12:46
It’s beautiful, isn’t it?
1:00 PM
Something strange is beginning to happen. You can see the ice begin to fly from behind me. I had jumped over an ice wall to block the wind and get out of the way.
I begin to bundle up but then realize my zipper is broken on my jacket and my mittens are shoved with snow. Ducking into the ice wall, Matt comes back and tells me we have to get going…there’s a storm coming in.
Within seconds it’s a complete white out. The pass is about a kilometer away. I’m slipping in strength and I look back at Matt, “Just go on without me, I can’t keep up” as I’m blinded by blowing snow and ice. “Don’t be stupid, Ellen”, was stated very calmly and with a bit of love and concern.
We make it to the peak, a little over 3700m high, in the midst of a storm. Pressing our bodies against an ice wall, we have no idea what we should do. We are all silent. Waiting, freezing…knowing this is really bad.
A car comes by, after a couple of minutes arranging prices, they say they will take us to Sary-Tash for 100USD. No one has USD on them so we convince them to take 100 Euros. Little do they know they are getting more money out of it.
1:54 PM:
Bikes loaded.
As we were preparing to get in the car, I brushed my hand against my face. Something felt very weird. I touched my face again…what’s going on with my skin? (Later in the car, the boys would tell me my face was frozen and it was the scariest thing they had seen in their lives. My skin was beginning to turn blue, according to them. Ever since this day, I go by the nickname, “Ice Face”. Tough…eh?)
We load into the tiny car and as the seat in front is lowered, I can feel pressure on my frozen toe. We all begin screaming to get the passenger up. I didn’t nearly lose my toe from the storm, but by an old car seat being lowered onto it.
They begin towards Sary-Tash. There are a few trucks pulled over and everyone waving around the “X” symbol. The road is closed. We can’t continue. They tell us we have to go back to the town on the border.
SHIT! 3 DAYS AND WE ARE GOING BACK TO WHERE WE STARTED. No choice. No option.
As the car turns around and we head back, the driver points to the left. Lucas and I gasp as there is a frozen horse upside down, hooves mid air – in the midst of a run. What is going on?
The blizzard lasts for close to 2 hours, complete white out. The passenger will get out to help the car around. Sometimes both getting out to help oncoming traffic get through.
We have all moved our boots and socks. I’m repeatedly told I’m going to have to have my toes cut off. The boys shove theirs in their sleeping bags and mine are shoved in my hat…heels exposed.
It’s a tight fit in the car, and I’m sitting in the middle. I can see the gas gauge, nearly empty.
The driver is miming to us that we may have to sleep in the car. Every time both of them leave, the 3 of us are trying to figure out if it means we are sleeping there for the night.
I start my prayers of “oh mani padme hum”…the sky begins to break…I see sunshine…….I shove my head out the window with the loudest “Hallelujah” you’d ever hear.
The storm is over after nearly 2 hours. It takes us 6 hours to make it to their home. Where will be fed and cared for.
This will be an unforgettable April Fool’s Day, uniting the brothers of North East South West by Bike and the Wander Cyclist for ever.
April 2nd,
The driver will give us a ride to Sary-Tash. Where from there, we are able to hire a van to Osh. We are exhausted…we are on time lines…we nearly died – and me twice.
The daughter of the driver is attached to me. She loves having her photo taken and even struts as if she is on a catwalk at one point. She’s darling and also really wants my ring. I let her play with my eyeglasses instead. She stayed by my side during most of the visit and during our breaks on the car ride.
My mom recently asked me, “What were you thinking before the car picked you up?”
Honestly, I don’t know…nor do I remember. I just know I was really concerned about my soaking wet, cold feet. The boys and I did a tally on how many toes and fingers would of been lost if we hadn’t been picked up. We are pretty sure there would of been at least 3 lost – probably all mine.
I love you Matt and Lucas. Really.
Day 8: Kashgar to Sary-Tash (w/NESW by Bike) – April 1 2012 May 8th, 2012WanderCyclist
March 28th 2012 – PLEASE NOTE THE DATE AND THESE POSTS ARE OF THE PAST.
Good Morning!
The day starts off well. Matt is feeling better and the roads are still paved, for a little while. The weather gets pretty damn warm during the day too.
We stop for lunch on the side of a little river. I, “Auntie”, cooks for the group. That’s the woman’s job, right? After eating we have a delightful visitor.
In just a few kilometers we will lose tarmac…this will be just the very (easy) beginning to a horrific ending.
Traffic
Later in the day, the ice melt causes all the roads to become mud. Thick, slushy mud. We are either pushing our bikes through 4cm of mud or slipping on snow and ice. As the sun begins to set, we know we are going to have everything freezing back on us.
The descent into the border town. Roads here are in exceptional condition. The boys bikes are caked with mud, mine not so. Thank you Soma Saga…I love you.
We make it to the border right before sunset. Kyrgyzstan! Tomorrow…or so we think…
The border town is shit. There is no where to buy supplies. We all decided to go to bed after finding some naan to eat. Nothing wrong with a little hunger, knowing we are out of China tomorrow…again, or so we think.
Sleep well, as the room is flooded with the smell of wet socks and boots. Damn it Lucas…I wish you had done laundry…Bangkok to Bishkek without a single piece laundered. You stink!
*If you enjoy reading and looking at my photos, I hope you’ll take a moment to view my Kickstarter campaign. If you can’t pledge, I understand…perhaps just spread the word. I, and all the people I photograph and speak with, thank you.
We had to end early on Day 2 because Matt had fallen through the snow and had soaking wet feet. The road was flooded out and all bikes had to be pushed off road through about 2′ of snow. Matt going first, he fell into the water under and Lucas and I managed to just take a little dip.
Saving time and reserving some warmth in the tent, we all cuddled up in the boys tents. Oh god, the smell…never, in my life. We didn’t sleep very well…sardines in a cold stinky can.
But then morning arrives…
Poor Matt, is still ill. The boys spent a half an hour digging the stakes out of the ground and I spent the time digging my poor stove out of the frozen sand. Sucked.
This will be the last of tarmac…for a very very very long time.
We head on and it’s freezing. All the water from the day before is frozen. I cross the ice first, bust my…um…lady parts on my top tube. I alert the boys to what I’ve done…after I crawl out from under my bike and across the ice.
Then…not 15 minutes later as I’m pushing across some more ice, I slip and smack down on both knees. I’ll feel that for days…more like a week. ‘F you ice!
Turned out the be the wrong way, so we are fortunate enough to turn around and go back over the ice. This time I don’t bust my vah-gine.
My favorite part of the day…break time. And look at me…showing off my Spanish skills! Oh, sister…paleeeeeeeeeeese…shut up! I’m eating these jelly orange slices (candy) that Brandon and I were addicted to last summer. The brothers didn’t love them as much as I (and Brandon) do.
We finish up the day having good fun.
Then trying to find supplies in this shit hole of a town. Where this local tries to rip us off letting us sleep in his extra room. Instead, we go back to the restaurant for an extra bowl of noodles and set up camp in the dark on the the outskirts of town.
Riding solo has advantages, so does as a team. I work more when I’m solo…I laugh more when I’m with others. Perhaps stay a bit more sane with company too.
Day 3: Kashgar to Sary-Tash (with NESW by Bike) April 28th, 2012WanderCyclist
