I was finally on my way and able to compare their attempt at a Snickers lolly which was terrible not a peanut in sight.
It soon became apparent that the President is not camera shy as his picture adorns the border crossing and can then been seen about every 100 metres thereafter. I love this one where he looks to be taking the credit for the sunshine and cherry blossoms!
There were also lots of messages on this route about the friendship with Uzbekistan.
I soon arrived at Panjakent which was my target for the day but it had been a good ride with a pretty new smooth road surface and tailwind making progress fast.
It was only 3 pm so I set about trying to get some money and a sim card which I managed to do so pressed on and could see the mountains approaching which stood between me and the capital Dushanbe.
It was 6 pm and I was approaching 60 miles so started looking for camping sites and thought I might break open the Smack noodles I’d been carrying with me since Hungary but access to the land was limited again by irrigation ditches. I found and side road led into an orchard but as I was about to turn in there was a tractor coming the other way that stopped at the junction one guy got off and they were having a right old chinwag with the driver so I decided to keep going.
That was a good decision as in the next village was a good looking bar where I rehydrated and had a couple of large chicken kebabs, the noodles lived on!
Having polished off my food I headed off again and managed to find a route into the next orchard I came to. I spent 5-6 minutes waiting for the coast to clear of people walking passed then managed to get my bike over the dry ditch and away from the road.
I had just selected a spot for my tent when I saw a guy about 50 metres away cutting grass with a sickle. Bugger I thought so much for a secluded spot and I’d better ask permission. I used my Point To book for the first time strolling over with my picture of a tent, shook his hand and got the OK.
I had finished putting my tent up when the guy appeared and gestures that I should stay at his house. I really was looking forward to camping after 9 days in hotels and hostels. The weather was also perfect so I politely declined. He offered again and I signed that I had eaten and had everything set up here and he accepted.
Apparently if he offered again then I had to accept or he would be offended.
We made small talk along the same lines as normal.
Where are you from?
England , Manchester
Manchester United?
Yes good team (i.e. thumbs up)
Wayne Roody?
Yes good player.(thumbs up)
And he was off.
The next morning I hit the road relatively early as I had to dry my tent due to condensation it got a bit chilly in the night so had to use my sleeping bag and in the morning remove slugs from here and there which I had not seen since God knows when.
Single most popular car in Tajikistan Vauxhall/Opel Astra
Soon I crossed a wide river and started climbing up the valley which would take me to nearly 9,000 ft.
I was soon high above the river on the road that cling to the hillside as the sides of the valley started to converge.
It was a difficult day with lots of climbs and drops as I gradually gained more height and after 40 miles which was my required daily average I found myself in the town of Ayni. I was outside a combined supermarket and hotel so with no other realistic prospect of accommodation further on called it a day, got a room and a good shower luxury!
I had no joy finding an ATM I could use having been restricted to drawing out just less than £100 yesterday but that should be enough to get me to Dushanbe as the hotel was £15 and dinner £5.
I thought the photo a pointed at was a pizza but what turned up was more like a vegetable lasagne made with yogurt not cheese.
I did my best but could finish it which was probably for the best as I had some mild food poisoning that night!
The next morning I was still not feeling great but made a start and a quick internet search suggested that apples and plain biscuits of which I had, were best to eat so made an early start before the sun had got into the valley and thought I’d see how far I got. I found a nice spot 5 miles in I had breakfast by the river.
I continued my climb with a shop shown another 8 miles up the road where I could restock.
This shop was not required though as approached the town there was a bustling market at this bridge where I was able to buy not only apples but bananas and a melon as well. I managed to carry away the melon in my helmet to a spot of shade where I could demolish in one go.
As I climbed I was passed by many many of these orange trucks which were undertaking extensive works on the route some had numbers on the side and the highest I saw was 135. A Chinese operation no wonder they get things done at an impressive speed!
I was feeling much better and plugged into my phone the next target which was the first cafe after the big climb which was only 6 miles away but they were a tough 6 miles of unrelenting climbs with just a couple of flat spots where I could polish off more fruit along the way.
I made it to the cafe and ordered tea and a cold bottle of water and had these with apples and biscuits whilst watching an overdubbed Jason Statham movie. Not hard to follow though car chase, gunfight boy meets girl etc. etc. suddenly the dubbing stopped and it was in English! They changed channel and I headed off.
It wasn’t too far to the next and last cafe on this side which was my target for the day which I got to by 5 pm. At the summit of this climb was the Anzob Tunnel more commonly known as “The Tunnel of Death” which is a 5 km long unlit, has no ventilation and so badly maintained that people have broken down in there and suffocated. The advice is not to attempt to cycle through it but to hitch a ride and I took that advice.
My plan was to flag down a truck or van here where there was room to pull in and get a ride through the tunnel but if not get some food at the cafe, camp there and try again tomorrow but with three hours of daylight left I was confident I would be through today.
The first few likely vans I could see were lumbering up the hill and gestures that they were full and unable to assist which was nice. Then a pickup again was making slow progress with a heavy load so I didn’t bother to put my hand out but he stopped anyway and my bike and panniers were loaded on the back with help from his son and off we crawled.
There was about another 1,000 ft climb to the summit and about halfway there progress slowed as the clutch started to slip and I though adding a fat man his bike and luggage to an already overloaded truck was probably not a wise choice! Some on-road maintenance to adjust the clutch pedal and we were off the boy laughing as I crossed my fingers.
As we approached the tunnel I could see the fumes escaping from the black abyss we entered and thought what a wise choice I had made.
We gingerly made our way through and came out smiling on the other side.
I thanked the driver and asked him to stop but he thought he was taking me all the way to Dushanbe as we had discussed where I was going on route but I explained it was just the tunnel I wanted to avoid so I was off loaded. I tried to give him the equivalent of £5 for a meal but he was not having it so we all shook hands and with the road cut into a barren mountain I was ready for some descending to find a place to camp.
Then disaster struck!
The route down was punctuated by a number of short tunnels which I didn’t think justified my high viz or helmet light but as I entered at speed into the first one I was plunged into darkness!
My dynamo lights on the bike were not working I could see nothing ahead and there was a foot deep open gutter at the sides which I would fall into before I hit the tunnel wall so screeched to a halt.
I was a sitting duck where I was so didn’t have any time to dig out my helmet light and was weighing up whether to walk on or back out when a car entered the tunnel in front. This gave me a target to aim for so I gingerly rode towards the light with my speed increasing as more of the tunnel ahead became visible. Then as the car passed the entrance came into view and I was out! I pulled onto the side of the road and detected the fault which was that the front wheel looks like it had come loose in transit and had pulled out the dynamo wires. These restored and helmet light on I continued.
At the valley floor I could see a patch of grass to camp on by the river. This was opposite a compound where the busy orange trucks were stockpiling tarmac but beggars can’t be choosers. I hoped even the industrious Chinese might not be running a 24 hour operation which was right as the noise and dust died with the sunlight.
I was awoken at 5 am with a bang as the first load of the day arrived on the opposite bank and lorries like big yellow elephants being washed in the river. I was up and moving but had to dig out my down jacket as despite yesterday's big decent I was still at an altitude higher than Scafell pike and it was a bit chilly.
I had about 40 miles to go to Dushanbe and didn’t think it was going to take me long. The first obstacle was a kilometre long tunnel and this time I was more prepared.
I made great progress down even overtaking a couple of heavily loaded lorries on the way and at 9 am thought I was likely to arrive at my hotel when they were still serving breakfast. I looked around for somewhere to stop but there was no signs of life from the many cafes across the river.
I stopped to take this photo and they guy gestured drink at me which I gave the thumbs up to and he ushered me in.
I took a seat by the river where he studiously ignored me for 20 minutes while he sprayed water about with a hose then I gave up and set off again a surreal experience but at least it killed a bit of time in the process. I arrived in Dushanbe by late morning where I was to stay for a few days before pressing on.
I spent 4 days in Dushanbe not really much of a tourist destination unless you like looking at portraits of the President that were ever present.
I did on my last day take a cycle tour round the city the highlights of which are below:
I was continuing to have problems with my rear tyre which was not exactly round and a further inspection on Sunday morning revealed that the side wall was starting to fail so I asked Chris to include one of the replacement tyres he had to what he was bringing out and hopefully it would get me to the rendezvous at Qala-I-Khum or (Kalai-Khum there seem to be many spellings!).
So I set off on would be on of the highlights of my year to start The Pamir Highway.
Pamir Highway is a unique sight of Tajikistan stretching for more than 1500km and connecting the capital of Dushanbe and the city of Osh in the south of Kyrgyzstan. The highway that is a part of an international road M41, lies via high-mountain region of Pamir. Pamir is a mountain range with peaks over 7000 meters that takes up most part of Tajikistan; its name is translated as “Roof of the world”.
My first section would be taking the longer southern route via Kulyab which was less climbing and a better road surface. On the way out of the city I chatted with an English couple in a Ford Fiesta who were doing the Mongol Rally which is an annual event where competitors race to Mongolia in cars over 10 years old scrapped cars with a maximum of 1,200 cc. These would become a regular sight over the coming weeks.
The first days ride was pretty straightforward on a well surfaced road the MapsMe app took me down dome unmade tracks for a while but I managed to get back on the good road and made reasonable progress covering 35 miles which was not too bad for a mid morning start.
I as not under time pressure so as the road started to climb up and embankment towards a tunnel I decided that was enough as camping spots would be hard to find pulled over and pitched my tent for the night.
The next morning I donned all my tunnel gear and climbed up to a plateau overlooking what was called The Blue Sea which was a large reservoir. Here I found a few market stalls so I had a second breakfast of a banana and fanta whist a couple of kids practiced their English I gave them a sweet each then continued on my way.
Further along the road I came to a memorial that marked the location where in 2018 four cyclists were killed and two others injured following an attack by Islamic militants.
I noticed on my ride what a great reception I got from the people on route and I think they are pleased to see that this tragic incident has not dampened peoples enthusiasm from riding the Pamir Highway.
I was making good progress with the early start a good road and a tailwind combining to reach over 60 miles when I had a front puncture. I could find no cause and put a new tube in then looked for a suitable place to camp.
I saw a field next to an irrigation ditch off a side road which was not well concealed but I fancied a cool down so unloaded my bike and carried everything over the ditch. Whilst I was doing this a couple of kids arrived and had a swim in the water then when they were gone I sat down and mended the puncture with my legs cooling in the water.
After talking this photo a guy arrived and started drinking the brown water! I had 6 litres of bottled water with me which was more than I needed so gave him one of my big bottles which he was very grateful for.
He was still hanging around and it occurred to me that he probably wanted to wash.
I had decided this spot was too busy to camp but had seen a patch of uncultivated land next to an electricity pylon so started to move my gear there and sure enough once I was out of the way he stripped down and plunged into the water. We don’t know how lucky we are and as I fished out some food for dinner I also gave him some pasties which a shop keeper had given me which I was not going to be able to eat as well.
My plan was to break the ride to Qala-I-Khum at Kylyab but that was now only 20 miles away so I decided to push through and get the big climb out of the way.
I did however stop for some tea in the city and had a cheeky donner kebab as I don't really eat well on the road so some protein was required.
The climb up the hill was 5,000 ft and was pretty relentless combination of switchbacks where you could see traffic which had passed you appearing again thousands of feet above and knowing you had a big day ahead.
The road was relatively good and mostly ride-able except for a section like the one below which had been washed away and I had to push the bike up the steep temporary link that had been built.
It was hot work and I stopped at a spring on the way to cool down.
The top section was unmade which made the last few miles even more difficult. I celebrated with a summit photo but my now the sun was low so unfortunately it did not come out well.
I went through a military checkpoint, the first on the route where they wrote down all my details in an exercise book and a short decent later I arrived at a hotel and a welcomed pot of tea. I was still at over 6,500 ft elevation so the thick socks came out!
The next morning there was no sign of breakfast at the hotel so I looked in a store that sold lots of things I didn’t need. I bought some out of date apple juice but that tasted vile so I just binned that and pushed on.
After a long decent I got my first sight of Afghanistan through the morning haze. This was over the river which I would be turning left and following for the next 230 miles as it slowly climbed up the valley.
I stopped for a rest and some Afghans on the other bank were having a picnic and riding motorcycles along a dirt track that ran along their side of the river. They shouted and waved and I waved back.
I was definitely on the best side of the river road wise the Afghan track looked quite a challenge and maybe a prelude of what is to come for me.
I then passed a small suspension bridge which was a border crossing with military compounds on either side but there was no signs of any traffic.
There were shops and restaurants marked on my route which I used as milestones along the day but unfortunately when I arrived most were closed which was a shame. I was not short of supplies though and was able to get water from the many streams that I passed. With no stops especially for a pot of tea which is a good break, I finished the day about 5 pm with another 60 miles done and just 30 left to go to Qual-I-Kam.
Instead of camping I stayed in a basic hotel with a great spring they tapped off to make a refreshing shower and a chiller for drinks. I settled down and had some meat dumplings for my dinner.
Right the last push I got a good early start in the morning which was nice and cool as the sun had not got over the mountains
Then after 10 miles I stopped next to the river made a coffee and cooked up some porridge now using water and powdered milk.
Unfortunately, when I went to clean my pan in the river I slipped and jarred my back which started to trouble me throughout the day. With 15 miles to go the road deteriorated and became a dirt track which slowed my progress and didn’t help my back with a few choice words as I dropped into the many potholes and ruts.
Eventually, I made into Qala-I-Kham in time for lunch at the homestay overlooking a mountain stream, mine is the one with the bay type balcony. I was a day early, so had to stay at Grandma's house tonight but this gave me three and a half days to wait until Chris arrives from the UK and hopefully this will give my back time some to recover.
I was rapidly running out of things to do in Qala-I-Kham but my back was improving. I did some servicing on my bike and replaced the brake pads which had lasted from the UK which was impressive but didn’t have much meat left on them for the challenge ahead. On the Saturday, I got a message from Chris that he had been prevented from boarding the plane. He had to change carrier in Moscow so would have to go through passport control which he couldn't do without a visa so they would not permit him to fly.
He had bought a new flight but would not now arrive on Sunday afternoon as planned but hopefully in the evening if he was able to get transport from Dushanbe. I had just finished dinner at about 8.30pm when he appeared having not slept for 36 hours so had some food a beer and described his journey here in a clapped out Opel Astra then off to bed.
The next morning Chris assembled his bike and I fitted the new back tyre he had brought out and we hit the road.
The road up the valley soon deteriorated and was punctuated with lots of short climbs and descents which slowed our speed combined with the late start meant that by 6.30pm we had only covered 37 miles and called it a day and set up camp.
We were on a pretty tight timescale for getting through the Pamir Highway in time for Chris to make his flight. This was based on the advice of leaving a day for food poisoning and a day for altitude sickness.
I had hoped that we could make the 150 miles to Khorog in 3 days so to get back on track we needed a big one tomorrow with 55-60 miles that need to be covered.
However, this was not to be. We got away early by 7 am but still the road conditions were against us and despite and explosive start by 3 pm we had only again covered 37 miles and were struggling.
So I made the call to abandon the three day strategy, we would make it in four days and with a long way to go it was important not to push ourselves too hard.
We then checked into a homestay 5 miles down the road where we slept outside under canopies situated next to a flowing stream which was nice but you did get the odd drop of water on your head from time to time!
The bikes were taking some stick as well as us from the poor road conditions. One of my front pannier racks broke but luckily Chris being a resourceful guy had brought a nut that was the right size to fix that. One of Chris’ pannier bags broke and had to be tied up with string and then his rear rack cracked but he was able to effect a good temporary repair/bodge with a spanner, zip ties and more string.
On day three we came across a section where the river opened out and the road was flat smooth tarmac from about 20 miles which made a huge difference and definately lightened the mood.
With Chris’ sleeping mat having sprung a leak we found a homestay about 20 miles short of Khorog to stop for the night with a delightful shower and long drop toilet which were both open to the Afghan side of the river!
Despite propositions from the 17 year old daughter when she found out I was not married, we headed off from the homestay in the morning and arrived at Khorog, the capital of the Pamirs by about 12 noon.
We had a quick look about town at the fast food options then had a beer or two to celebrate our arrival.
I don’t know what they put on the beer but we ended up having a Mac Doland’s which was an interesting culinary experience!
We checked into our posh hotel which was probably our last bit of luxury for the next week and then to the supermarket to stock up for the road ahead pasta and super noodles seem to be the meals of choice!. Another luxury was a pizza that evening at a rooftop restaurant then it was off to bed ready for an early start in the morning.
We pushed off and said goodbye to Afghanistan as we turned left up the side valley and through the rest of the city. We were now taking the east route out of Khorog, the pink route on the map above.
We past the hospital funded by the Aga Khan and the University. The Aga Khan is the head of the religious sect common across the country and has continued his support since their departure from the Soviet Union.
We had a quick steep climb and then arrived at a goat statue that signified the official start of the Pamir Highway from the city and handy signpost.
After this it was a downhill run down to the river and a day of ups and downs to come.
Turning into the side valley resulted in a dramatic change in the river into a light green colour with a few dodgy bridges!
I had allocated 40 miles per day for this section as it was steeper but we made good progress and had a late leisurely lunch and a pot of tea at an open air restaurant before after 45 miles finding a riverside field to camp in with a stream running through it.
Chris asked the farmers permission and his two sons gave us a hand setting up.
The target for the next day was Jelody where I had found a hotel with hot springs and again we had a relatively comfortable ride and were approaching the village by early afternoon. About 10 miles out, there was another hot spring baths and I suggested as we were ahead of schedule we stopped there for a break and at 50p for an hour it was rude to say no so we took the plunge!
Suitably refreshed we peddled on to Jelody ready for another late lunch but there were no cafes in the main village only across the river which would mean a 1 mile detour. We decided to press on and see if the hotel did food only to find after we had ridden for a mile that it didn’t exist just a pile of rocks where on the map the hotel should be!
We decided at this point to ride back to the cafe across the river, which was a strange cafeteria within what looked to be a community centre.
They had basic accomodation at the centre but I had by then found on the map a guest house with hot springs nearby so we headed there. That place was full but fortunately another next door had a room free so we booked in and had our second thermal bath of the day luxury!
Next day was the the big climb to get up onto the Pamir plateau and we got an early start on the 19 miles to the top of the first pass at 4,280m elevation.
We stopped after 12 miles to filter water watched by local with rather threatening black face mask but he took it off when we offered him a biscuit. We made steady progress climbing to the summit and at the final steep unmade section we were passed by a flat out Robin Reliant from the UK which was in the Mongol Rally called “Only Fools and Hummus”. How surreal was that!
We made the summit by 11.30 which was a great result and could see why this is called the highway over the roof of the world!
We entered into a barren landscape with no signs of life which was a dramatic contrast to what we had experienced on the route so far.
After this we then had a 10 mile downhill roll and a celebratory snickers. Plan A was to camp here but we had lots of time in hand and felt good so decided to climb over another pass.
I nearly wiped out on the way down coming close apparently according to Chris to taking out a mammot in the process which I didn’t see as I my eyes were fixed on the road ahead.
We were done for the day now and at the junction with the Whakan Corridor road, which is the route on the map which heads south from Khorog. This was also a turning point for me as my route to the south through Afganistan and Pakistan was not safe so we pointed the bikes north towards Almaty in Kazakstan where I would then fly to New Delhi and carry on.
We then headed towards a small brick building down a rough track which was shown as a homesay on MapsMe.
The house got more run down as we approached and I said let’s not eat here but make our own food. We were greeted by a large hairy man in a vest and were relieved when I asked if this was a homestay and he said no. He did give us some water though to keep us going.
It was 15 miles to the next town which we didn’t have in our legs so we pushed our bikes back up to the main road and camped at a spot we found near a lake but was not quite warm enough to take the plunge.
Unfortunately the mosquitoes were out so at about 6.30 we retreated to our tents to stop getting eaten alive.
As darkness fell I looked at the sky as I had only rigged my mosquito net and listened to the geese on the lake. It was a cold night and the next morning we found our pan scrubber was frozen.
Next morning it was 10 miles left to get into the town, we had tea at the first cafe we came to then headed into the village to do some shopping.
We came across a shop that had everything you wanted and eggs ...oh but no Magnums.
Chris bought some glue for another attempt to fix his sleeping mat whilst I took photos of cute kids.
We continued to have a steady climb on a wide plain and soon came to a yurt hotel where we negotiated lunch of pasta with beef (well yak) and yak yogurt . We also had lots of fun with a traditional Pamir hat!
As we progressed we came across a crashed lorry. This didn’t show any signs of a collision or mechanical failure so looked like the driver had probably just fallen asleep at the wheel and driven off the road.
We continued to climb up the plain and passed a large area of flooded grassland where as far as the eye could see there were people busy with hand scythes collecting winter feed for their livestock.
As we progressed there were ominous clouds in the distance and it looked like I might get rained on for the first time in about three months.
A bit further along we heard a cry and saw more mammotts this time not trying to dodge a crazy cyclist on the road but by their burrows so stopped and took a few shots.
We arrived at the next summit at 4,100 metres and found a mountain lodge that didn't exist. I have to say MapsMe or rather it’s contributors were not proving reliable in this part of the world.
As we were weighing up our options a guy in a Land Cruiser stopped shook our hands and gave us three litres of water pointing to another two cyclists who were riding up the other side of the hill to share it with. We decided to give them a Tour De France summit finish and as they approached.
We rang our bells and shouted encouragement. Allez Allez Allez!
They turned out to be two Japanese guys who were cycling to Samerkand so we gave them two of the bottles as we were OK for water. We started our descent to a homestay which was also on the paper map we had about 7 miles downhill and as we dropped into the valley in started to rain.
We were welcomed into the homestay and asked the price we were referred to the Grandma who said £10 for the two of us. The house was a basic four room building where three generations of one family.
We put our stuff on the room we were to sleep in and were invited into another for tea which was more high tea with what is best described as bread and butter pudding with yak cream and yogurt were served, as well as the obligatory bread.
We spent a couple of hours route planning for the days ahead, up dating this blog (of course) and sorting photos but were also able to have a look around the farm and see what life on the Pamir was like.
Dinner was served which was all of the above less the pudding but plus soup. We just had the soup and bread as we were starting to overload at this point so as light was fading made our way to bed.
The next morning we packed up our stuff and I took some photos of the yaks being milked.
Then we had breakfast and made to leave we paid them £20 for our stay which had been great instead of the £10 they asked but then….my phone was missing.
I checked the bedroom and where we had breakfast but no joy and retracing my steps but remembered leaving it in my handlebar bag next to the door when we went for breakfast. I said to our host that my phone was missing and there then followed a search of the house by both us and the family which I hoped would lead to it being “found” as I was convinced it had been stolen.
After about an hour we confronted them that if it was not lost it was stolen but no one cracked although the Grandma did offered us our £20 back which we refused (we didn’t think it was her). There were however, another two culprits who had left early morning with the flock. Eventually we threatened to go to the tourist police in Murgab but again no phone was forthcoming and the reception was getting decidedly frosty.
Eventually phoneless we made our way to Murghab and stopped at another military checkpoint on the way to have our details entered into another exercise book.
We arrived and parked up with some fellow bikers at a cafe where we had some kebabs which was a welcome alternative to soup and headed to the bazaar to stock up for the road ahead.
The bazaar was a collection of shipping containers and unfortunately most of the shops were closed but we were able to buy what we needed. This was apart from Chris who was after a new sleeping mat having now super glued his valve shut so by making his issues even worse!
We did not find any tourist police to report the stolen phone so at 2 pm eager to get going, we headed off to start the big climb up Ak-Biatal Pass to 4,650 metre finding thankfully the second signpost to Osh to confirm we were on the right route.
The plan was to split the climb over two days and see how far was can get that afternoon then attempt the rest tomorrow.
Having stayed at around 4,000m last night we had no issue with altitude sickness so would see how we got on.
We followed a long straight road along the plain and past the airport then came to a wall of stone and sand which we had to push over as the bridge had been washed away.
As we entered the valley which we would follow up to the pass a strong headwind started to develop and so we took turns to lead out whilst the other tucked in behind to shelter from the wind.
We managed to cover 20 miles from Murgarb 50 miles in total for the day which was less than I had hoped due to the late departure caused by the loss of my phone and being hampered by a headwind. We called it a day and found a good spot to camp next to the river with a few mammots for company.
As we set up camp the sky turned grey as bad weather moved up the valley and just after we had cooked up some noodles we then retired to our tents as it started to rain.
The next morning I awoke to the sound of rain and anticipation of what lay ahead up the pass, especially as there was new fresh snow on the mountains ahead it looked like it had the making of a grim day to come.
I put on every piece of clothing I had but when I climbed out of my tent the sky was clearing as I made a brew and some porridge.
We had a big day ahead with 26 miles left to get over the pass but then another 40 miles to the next village of Karakul which we hoped to stay at tonight.
As we progressed we could see the mountains of China in the distance and eventually the border fence came into view and ran close to the road for most of our approach to the pass. This fence must have been from a bygone era and there were no patrols along it.
In some locations sections were missing and even a gate left open to we jumped off the bikes and ran through for a bit of
light trespassing!
As we climbed the weather improved and layer by layer I discarded all the clothes I had put on and was down to my base garments when we reached the start of the climb where it ramped up to the pass.
A little boy came running out of a cabin offering chai but we were focused on the climb which with the altitude was slow and steady going as with the lack of oxygen, any exertion soon had you light headed and panting for breath.
We made regular stops on the way but other than a couple of skids where I had to push I was able to ride to the summit where we met a Japanese guy coming the other way. He had been on his bike for three and a half years now having started in Alaska and took our photo on "The Roof of the World!".
It was about 1 pm when we left the summit and had 40 miles to go but mostly downhill. We had a great initial descent then Chris had a puncture which we stopped to fix.
Next we hit a 4-5 mile section of really bad corrugations which slowed down our progress and jarred our backs. We came across another yurt with a stooped old lady which seems common here listing the delights inside, food I mean. But with over 30 miles to go and progress slow we declined and pressed on.
Eventually, we were free wheeling again but then were met with a headwind that ment we were pedaling to go down hill! The road climbed through a gap in the hills and there was a bang from Chris’ bike as one of his spokes broke which buckled his wheel. He got in straightened a bit but could still not use his back brake. We pressed on into an increasing headwind but keen to make the town and not to have to put our wet tents up.
Our efforts were rewarded as we cycled past Lake Karakul to the village by the same name and found a lovely guest house where we shared and evening meal with six other cyclist and our stories of the Pamir.
The consensus was that we could make Osh in three days not the four I had estimated so we decided to have a day off the bikes and booked in here for another night.
We then had a day of make and mend with tents dried, punctures repaired and spokes replaced.
After that we had a walk through the village and found a shop where we bought fanta, crisps and a couple of beers then went down to the lake and put them in to cool.
We had a comical lunch in a canteen we found with a mad lady in charge (stooped of course) and then took our turn at the village pump.
We had an interesting evening meal that evening at the guest house with one of the new residents being a guide Ali who was driving a guest over the highway.
He was telling us of the drug trade and when he was in the Russian army he had to cross the river to rescue wives and daughters from Afghanistan who were being held hostage in lieu of payment for failed drug deals but as we had witnessed on our way here the border is much better controlled now.
He was also saying that the people in this region whether Uzbek, Tajk, Chinese or Afgan considered themselves to be Pamir and had a common Pamir language. He had nothing good to say about Kyrgyzstan describing his car as a pot of sugar and the police as flies around it. He recalled one incident when they wanted £20 bribe to cross the border which when he refused they increased to £30. So he turned the car around and said “(insert expletive beginning with F) your country here is your guest you find him a driver!” He now just drives to the border and arranges for a Kyrgyzstan driver to pick up guests on the other side.
The next morning feeling refreshed we headed off round Lake Karakal and then climbed the pass which will take us to the next plain and onto the Kyrgyzstan border and a chance to take some last shots of the mountains we had traversed.
After a nice 10 mile downhill where Chris nearly wiped out and damaged two of his bags we arrived at the final climb to the border which was tough going with the winning combination of being steep, unmade and pushing a headwind. Eventually we made it to the border post where we were able to change money with the guards mostly into dollars but at least we had a usable currency.
After another mile of toiling up the track and we eventually came to the summit and entered Kyrgyzstan.
Winter is coming. The Pamir is a hard place to survive each years 10-12 people are killed by wolves, last year the temperatures dropped so low that many of the Yaks died as their eyeballs ruptured
