We took our nine-month-old son bikepacking in Vermont and the nice folks at bikepacking.com picked up our story. You can read it here: https://bikepacking.com/plan/going-gaga-over-vermont/
Coin Toss Forum
I randomly introduce and study development interventions in poor people's lives. My spare time follows a similar random walk, with activities such as climbing, running, cycling, mountain biking, traveling, and learning new cultures. This aptly named forum will drag you through some of my (random) thoughts and adventures.
Tuesday, August 17, 2021
Sunday, December 6, 2020
Writing About Failure -- Postscript to the Atlas Mountain Race
Hike or bike -- the choice is yours |
Writing about failure is not easy. It has taken me 10 months to finally pen down some thoughts about my failed attempt at the Atlas Mountain Race this past February.
I've read too many race reports by athletes who underperform and then write a litany of excuses for why things went wrong. This blame train typically begins by underselling the athlete who showed up at the start -- "too many meetings," "too many commitments," "didn't have time to train," or my favorite "wasn't treating this as a race." This is usually followed by somewhat exaggerated tales of bad luck and misfortune during the race.
I've never liked reading these types of reports. Why can't people just say sh** happened and leave it at that. I suppose at some alert or subconscious level, we all tie a little bit (or maybe a lot) of our self-worth to athletic performance. The drawn out justifications are then deemed necessary not only to satisfy others, but perhaps more to appease one's own pride.
So it came as a shock to me that after quitting the race, all I wanted to do was scream about all the things that went wrong and convince my friends that I was still a good bike rider. The behavior in others I so despised finally made sense...
But I suppressed that hypocritical urge. I've waited 10 months to write anything so I (hopefully) don't sound like an excuse train running on high steam. Things went very wrong for me at the race, but most of it was my own fault. Let me begin at the start.
Trying hard not to do this |
A bit of background. I'm a decent athlete and have been racing bikes for many years now at the local level with some moderate success. I also love bikepacking and this blog is filled with tales of adventure that my wife and I have embarked on over the years. So a bikepacking race made all the sense in the world and the Atlas Mountain Race was to be my first.
I trained hard over the winter in DC, didn't race cyclocross so I could go on 5 hour training rides instead, consulted about training with a few experienced hands, and showed up in Morocco in good endurance shape. I've been in better condition in the past and since, but I showed up confident that I could handle 715 miles of laden riding. I also spent inordinate amounts of time thinking about my bike and gear, which I wrote about in a separate post here. Many of these decisions came back to bite me during the race, so its instructive to elaborate on those first.
I carried way too much gear, plain and simple. If you see my pack list, it reads like I'm getting ready for a winter excursion and not a jaunt through a hot desert. Hindsight, of course, is perfect. Part of the reason for packing extra was that I had only ridden bikes in a desert once before and that was in January in San Diego on the Stagecoach 400 route. All I remember is how cold it got at nights. Morocco, in contrast, was a daytime frying pan that stayed lukewarm at night.
Sums up the weather |
The other main reason was sheer inexperience. I had never done one of these races before so packed too many extra things just in case I needed them. Importantly, many of the things I find indispensable for bikepacking were simply too heavy or unnecessary in a race setting -- e.g. water filter (tablets would have worked just fine, less space and weight), poop digger (not heavy but takes space, plus who has time to poop in a race?!), pillow (jacket does just fine), extra clothes (I'm used to sitting around at camp), etc. Do a google search on Jay Petervary's bike or Sofiane Sehili's bike. Granted those two take races a lot more seriously than I do, but still the contrast is telling.
What I didn't realize at the start is how much small things like a moderately heavy bike play on your mind as the race wears on. By day 3, I was in a deep mental hole and likely spent hours fussing about why I carried a titanium poop shovel that weighs just a few ounces. But that is where the mind goes when it is stressed.
So heavy! |
Not to dwell on the negatives too much, on the plus side I believe I brought the right bike with the right gearing. Basically, I found the lightest hardtail mountain bike frame I could find and equipped it with excellent lightweight components, a non-rigid fork, fast rolling mountain bike tires, and lots and lots of gears. I still don't understand why people under-gear their bikes for these races. Even James Hayden rides a 30T ring with a 10-51 cassette and he's an ex-pro who almost won this race. I managed to spin up many climbs that others could not. Yes, I walked many but at least had the option to ride. I would make the same gearing decision in a heartbeat.
The other good decision I made was on pacing. I spoke a few times with Kurt Refsnider as I was training for the race and he insisted that I should ride at the boundary of zone 1 and 2 power for most of the race except maybe the first hour or two when everyone goes out hard. Just to clarify, boundary of zone 1 and 2 is very very slow, painfully so. Think how fast your grandparent would ride, then ride slower.
As the gun went off, I kept up with the front peloton for the first couple of hours and we were moving at a fair clip. At that point I made the conscious decision to fall back and drop down to that ascribed slow pace. I have to say physically I felt great all day. By the time we reached checkpoint 1 after the first (and biggest) climb of the race, I was way back in the pack but also feeling quite fresh. After a quick meal, I kept on riding and started passing people. This was surprising because if it wasn't clear yet, I wasn't riding very fast and they were obviously riding even slower. I suppose Kurt was right -- I had to treat this race like a tortoise rather than a hare.
I also greatly appreciated some suspension in my fork (I rode a lauf) and wide MTB tires, which really helped at night when I couldn't see very far ahead and this setup was fairly forgiving. If I could change two things on the bike, they would be (a) switching to a drop bar, and (b) switching to a flexy seatpost. Yes, flat bars are more stable off-road, but there are several wide drop bars on the market now with shallow flared drops for more control. Plus having multiple hand positions isn't only beneficial for those with hand numbness, its actually a real treat to just be able to hold on in different ways over long events. And a flexy seatpost is a great benefit for the hours and hours spent sitting on a narrow saddle. Many companies now make seatposts with some intelligent give (e.g. springs, elastomers, air) and some frame manufacturers are even starting to incorporate suspension in the rear for gravel-oriented bikes.
Early slopes of the first big(gest) climb of the race |
Back to the race, I have to say riding at night in the desert with no one around and just my narrow bike light for company was very calming. Unlike some others who have reported back feeling scared or spooked, I really enjoyed riding alone at night and much preferred the nighttime to the burning daytime sun. At some point 95-100 miles in, I decided to stop and get some sleep. One cool trick I employed throughout the race was to order two meals at every restaurant, eat one, and pack the other one in a large empty potato chips packet. The foil was perfectly waterproof and even kept the food moist and a bit warm -- just use a rubber band to seal it. This worked really well for the countless omelet sandwiches consumed at this race! So after stopping, I had a quick second dinner and setup my bivy and sleeping bag.
This salt bomb bag served double duty as a free/reusable/waterproof omelet sandwich carrier |
All the omelets |
Here is the start of my biggest mistake in the race -- sleep. I simply could not go to sleep. My mind would not turn off and I tossed and turned for three hours without a single minute of sleep. Turns out a big part of the problem was that I believe I was overdressed for sleep. Some of the elite racers likes James and Jenny Tough decided it was too hot to bivy so they just slept on top of their sacks. I did not have the same brilliant idea -- in fact I was inside my sleeping bag in a bivy and wearing a few layers of clothes. Also, I made the awful choice of not stripping out of my chamois to let the southern bits dry out. Once again, James wrote in his debrief that he sleeps stark naked in these races. Smart choice indeed!
After flailing around for another 30 minutes, I gave up on sleep and started riding again. My slow pace meant that physically I was still going strong and one night of missed sleep wasn't holding me back yet. I made a lot of ground even before the sun came up. In my mind, I pictured catching up to near the front of the pack by the end of the race with my slow-and-steady approach. I believe if things had worked out differently I could have gotten there but there is no way to know and its too arrogant to assume.
Some magical sunrises |
Sometime close to sunset I caught up to Jesse Blough on a steep hike-a-bike climb. I was still feeling pretty good and he happened to be in a hole at the time. So I stayed with him for a bit to walk and chat. I've gotten to know Jesse a bit and he's a stellar guy and I'm glad we got to go back and forth for a couple days in the race. Soon, I went on ahead and rode this amazing desert plateau in the dark.
My sleep woes, however, continued and night 2 sleep was no better than night 1. Once again, I did not sleep a wink and now I was worried. Of course, Sofiane didn't sleep at all and he won the race but (a) he's Sofiane; and (b) he planned and trained to race that way. I didn't and when my sleep failed, my mind went in the gutter.
As a result, day 3 was a slog. It started off well enough with a fantastic long and fast downhill towards a desert oasis where the nice host invited me in for tea. I should have taken him up on that offer but instead kept plodding. What came next was a horrible steep road climb with lots of traffic, a blazing hot sun, and a determined Jesse riding on a strong second wind bumping up my rear end. Everything fell apart for me on that climb, especially when Jesse passed me. I literally had to stop and calm down, take a few deep breaths, and suppress the urge to hail down a taxi and call it quits there and then. My bike felt incredibly heavy, my legs were wobbly, and my mind was on the verge of giving up.
Thankfully, my wonderful wife must have received my telepathic communique because she sent me a lovely note just then that cheered me up and I decided to keep going. I took a long break at the next omelet stop and caught up a bit with several other racers. I overheard a few of them talk about the next big town -- Taznakht -- where there were hotels, and a real bed sounded like just what I needed to reset and catch some sleep. So I kept on.
At this point for me, the race turned into a pure mental game rather than a physical one. My legs felt fine and I could pedal at the intensity I needed but for a lot of the time I simply didn't want to. My previous poor decision on clothing was also starting to bother me as I developed a pretty bad saddle sore and couldn't stay seated for too long. Nevertheless, the hotel bed beckoned and after many hours I reached the outskirts of town and found a large number of fellow racers sprinkled throughout the town's restaurants and hotels. I did manage to get a room and after a hot meal fell in bed. Here's the deal, I still could not go to sleep. I've since spoken to a few sleep experts and very likely my circadian rhythm was completely out of whack with abnormal levels of hormones but who knows. I cant imagine my situation was any different that others so perhaps I need to train my sleep better before attempting such an endeavor again. In the end, I think I did manage an hour of sleep but woke up in a panic as I thought I had slept through to the next evening as it was dark out. Took me a minute to realize I had only been sleeping for an hour!
Once awake, sleep was a distant memory and I made the decision to pack up and leave. In hindsight, I should have persisted and tried to get a few more hours but the pressure of seeing folks I was mingling with ride away in the distance was too much to bear. I suppose that is the downside of live tracking -- you can see how far everyone else has moved while you are just sitting around. So I started riding again while it was still dark out and was surprised that I felt kind of alright. That feeling didn't last, however, as I began to hallucinate on the bike when the sun came up. Or at least I think thats what was going on. Basically I would doze off and wake up startled probably within a second or two. This is where I finally gave up, about 30 miles into the day. Whatever I was doing didn't seem worthwhile and I just wanted to be done. I messaged my wife and she offered the sage advice that I should just take a nap at the next town and then restart once I'm rested. Of course, this was the logical choice but I had already given up and my mind couldn't return to the bike no matter how hard I tried.
So I managed to get a taxi to the finish line where everyone was awaiting the winner. I really felt like an outcast, as if I didn't belong, as if I didn't deserve to be there. So quietly and quickly, I escaped back to Marrakesh along with another rider in a shared taxi.
Got to see James finish not very far behind Sofiane and ahead of Jay. All great riders |
Back in Marrakesh and in stellar company |
That was a wrap for me and the AMR 2020. Will I do a bikepacking race again? If you had asked me in February I would have said hell no. I've come to realize that what I really enjoy is exploring by bike with good company (i.e. my wife and friends). Riding alone for hours and hours with only distance and speed as goals doesn't sound super appealing. But I am also very stubborn and the sting of failure has not subsided. I've read reports by several accomplished athletes who also suffered setbacks in early races only to return with experience and put down great performances. Also, the mental high that comes from competing and finishing is not lost on me. So now, ten months later and with some direction on the weaknesses I need to work on, I believe I probably will give this off-road bikepack racing thing a try again.
Wednesday, February 5, 2020
Atlas Mountain Race 2020 -- What You Brung?
I've done a fair bit of racing in the past years and quite a lot of bikepacking as well. But this will be the first time I'll try to bikepack with a race mentality. One of the biggest attractions for me is that these races are not about watts or who is the strongest -- I've done my fair share of those and know how far I can get. Here, those who do well are both physically and mentally strong, ride a smart race, know their limits, optimize their sleep and eating, remain healthy, and occasionally have some good luck thrown their way.
One of the coolest aspects of dirt ultras is that a lot of strategy and planning goes on prior to the race, with a huge variance in what people bring in terms of bike and gear. Racing on an ultralight bike with minimal gear is definitely faster but leaves little margin for error, while loading up a steel monster with pannier bags may maximize comfort but will most certainly not be fast. The balance is somewhere in the middle, and every racer finds their own optimum.
For me, a lot of thought went into what type of bike and gear to bring. Some difficult choices were made but given this will be my first bikepacking race, I've mostly erred on the side of caution rather than ambition. In general, I'm fairly comfortable being uncomfortable so we'll see how my gear decisions play out. What I'm certain of is that I'll learn a lot from this first foray into the small but ardent world of being a dot on a map.
The Bike
- Open Cycles One+ hardtail carbon frame (880grams -- light as f***)
- Lauf TR Boost fork w/60mm travel
- Enve M5 flat bar w/ Ergon GS3 grips & bar ends
- Vision Trimax carbon J-Bend aerobars mounted on a Fred Bar
- Enve zero offset carbon seatpost & Ergon SM Pro saddle
- Nox Composites Skyline 29er 32-hole carbon rims, custom laced to I9 Hydra rear and SON dynamo front hubs, XT 180mm(front) / 160mm(rear) rotors
- Schwalbe Thunder Burt 2.25" tubeless tires, Stans sealant
- Shimano XTR Trail hydraulic disc brakes
- SRAM XX1 Eagle 10-50 drivetrain w/ Kogel ceramic pulley wheels
- SRAM XX1 DUB crankset w/ Kogel ceramic BB, Power2Max PM, 30T Absolute Black Oval ring
- Shimano XTR pedals
- Wahoo Roam (main navigation)
- Garmin Etrex 30x (backup navigation)
- Yelling and screaming (second backup navigation)
- Sinewave Beacon headlight & USB
- B & M Secula Plus dynamo rear light
- King Cage fork mounts
- X-Labs carbon fork cages w/ two 1-Litre SIS bottles
- King Cage Many Things cage (Voile straps) on downtube w/ 1-Litre nalgene (several layers of duct tape wrapped on nalgene)
- Rapha Brevet wool jersey
- Assos Cento Evo bibshorts
- Rapha overshorts
- gloves & socks
- Rapha cycling cap
- POC Octal helmet & prescription Oakley sunglasses
- Specialized 2FO ClipLte MTB shoes
- Nemo Siren 30 Degree UL sleeping quilt
- REI Flash UL sleeping pad
- Sea to Summit Aeros UL pillow
- Zpacks down socks/booties
- Outdoor Research Stargazer bivvy (alternative location is seatpost bag)
- Sea to Summit UltraSil dry sack
- Headlamp
- Charging cables (incl. Beacon to USB cable) & wall adapter
- Voltaic V50 powerbank w/passthrough (12,800 mhA)
- Extra lithium AAA & AA batteries (for headlamp, etrex, and Spot tracker)
- Pump w/several layers of gorilla tape
- Poop digger titanium shovel (leave no trace)
- Collapsible 2-Liter water bladder
- Steripen Ultra UV water purifier & backup iodine tablets
- Osprey UL stuff pack (for extra food on long stretches, or bike breaks and need to hike)
- Hygiene gear: toothbrush, paste, tp, glasses, wet wipes, hand sanitizer, lighter
- Tubolito spare tubes (x2), plugs, patch kit, small bottle of stans
- First aid kit & chamois cream
- Emergency blanket
- 2 extra straps & extra ziplocs
- Craft windproof midweight gloves
- Pearl Izumi cycling mitts
- Outdoor Research waterproof overmitts
- Passport, travel insurance, brevet card, other docs
- Small face towel
- Food, gels, bars, etc
- Pearl Izumi WxB rainpants
- Pear Izumi Summit AmFib Lite windproof pants
- REI Drypoint GTX Goretex rainjacket
- Rapha windproof full sleeve jersey
- Patagonia down sweater
- Arcteryx full sleeve merino top
- Fleece hat, buff, windproof skullcap, knee warmers
- Shower Pass waterproof merino socks
- Pearl Izumi PRO Barrier waterproof MTB shoe covers
- Backup powerbank & cables
- iphone
- Headphones
- Day wallet
- Chapstick and sunblock
- CrankBros M19 multitool
- Leatherman
- Toolkit & Spares: chainlinks, Wolftooth wrench, schrader adapter, extra valve core, extra bolts, extra cleat, electric tape, chain lube, extra shifter cable, variety of zip ties, extra deraileur hanger, extra resin brak pads (1 set), rag
- Snacks (whatever I can find)
Let the party begin! |
Friday, January 31, 2020
Grading the Gear -- What's Essential and What Not to Bring for Bikepacking
Here's a list of some of the gear we've used on our bikepacking trips, from what we found essential to what was disappointing. We do not have sponsors so these views are independent of such influence.
On either end of the scale I've explained why these ratings are warranted, with less words for the middle of the scale items.
First, the scale:
A+: Better than expected
A: As expected, flawless
B: Under-performed a bit. Minor issues
C: Under-performed a lot. Major issues
F or below: Failed miserably. Avoid at all cost
THE OUTLIERS FIRST:
Steripen Ultra USB Rechargeable UV Water Purifier: A+
This little gadget is the best thing since sliced bread. And it is USB rechargeable (you can get one with batteries too). This purifier eliminates both bacteria and viruses, while your clunky filter just targets the former. Its what your water authority uses to purify the city's water supply, only in portable size.
We've found this purifier indispensable, and have used it all around the world, from Tajikistan to Kenya to Switzerland, and never once gotten sick. It just works. The charge lasts a long time and can easily be topped off with your dynamo hub or USB battery pack. Its also tiny and weighs less than any filter out there.
Some people make a fuss about needing clear water, yeah you do, but that's what your t-shirt is for. We never leave home without it, its that good.
Finish Line Tubeless Tire Sealant: F-
Friday, August 31, 2018
"What is Your From??!!" -- Two Wheel Adventures in the Pamirs
This is a three-part blog post about our cycling trip across the Pamir Mountains in Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan in July/August 2018. Part 1 is a trip report; part 2 evaluates and grades the gear we used; and part 3 details the logistics, maps, places we stayed, reviews, and tips for anyone planning a similar ride.
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I want to start by addressing the senseless attack on cyclists that coincided with our trip. The tragedy hit close to home as two of the riders were from DC, and even more so because we met and cooked dinner and breakfast with them just a few days prior to the attack before heading in opposite directions. We shared stories of adventure, laughed, and bonded over mutual complaints of tired legs, overbearing heat, and lack of showers. The subsequent news rocked our world and stopped us in our tracks for a couple days. Our own experience with the people of Tajikistan had been nothing but positive and we tried to make sense of it all. While the shock slowly subsided, the sadness remained but we collectively decided not to give into fear and got back on our bikes. Jay, Lauren, Markus, and Rene, may the tailwind always be on your backs wherever you travel next.
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Yes we were actually there |
Our trip started in Dushanbe, the capital city, where we landed after what felt like several days on an airplane. Thankfully our bikes made it safely and were expertly strapped on top of a decrepit taxi, which surprisingly could move, and transported to our hostel where we met up with our friends Jerry and Carolyn. J & C are in the middle of their world tour on bikes and had snaked their way to Tajikistan all the way from London over several months. We took the modern route and flew.
J & C in their element. Yes, that is ALL they are carrying for a year of cycling around the world! |
And yes, it was going to be cold up high and indeed it was, but the story of the first week was the heat. Oh man the heat! My garmin read 125 degrees Fahrenheit (52 Celsius!!) at one point on day 2. So, so uncomfortable. Surprisingly, no one had warned us about the heat. No previous blogs, no trip reports, nothing, nada; weather was a non-factor in our minds coming in. Maybe it was the global heatwave that coincided with our trip but I have never experienced that kind of heat before. Ultimately, it was too overbearing and we resorted to waking up before 5AM and taking extended afternoon breaks to escape the harshest part of the day. Note to others who want to do this route: the weather IS a factor, account for it. Dushanbe isn't that high and the altitude gain is gradual so the first week can be brutal in July. Perhaps consider skipping the first week entirely and hitching a ride to Khorog -- the best riding is after that anyway.
Its gettin hot in here... take off all your clothes -- yeah literally thats what we did! |
The heat taking its toll... |
...and bringing out the crazy! |
And then there is the amount of stuff... oh so much stuff. Most of the people we met were carrying four full panniers front and back, rack bags, handlebar bags, all filled to the brim. I'm so curious what exactly it is that they carry because Natasha and I went fairly lightweight (I didn't even carry panniers, only bikepacking bags) and didn't particularly yearn for anything that we didn't have. We even tried to think of what else we'd need on a year-long trip and couldn't come up with much more. Maybe an extra t-shirt? Even more compelling, J & C are touring an entire year with just two front pannier bags each! Go figure.
The highlight of the first evening was a bunch of us cyclists trying desperately to watch the Tour de France stage with dodgy internet and limited cell signal. Eventually we rolled into a local bar and convinced them to stream the livefeed for us, but even that managed to cut off at the crucial last few kilometers of the stage. We then resorted to clustering around a small cellphone screen which miraculously was still streaming.
Le grand depart |
With Froome's demise all settled, bright and early the next morning a healthy peloton of 8 (4 of us and 4 new friends) hit the Pamir highway heading East out of Dushanbe towards the mountains. The early miles are really nothing to write home about -- mostly you're on a busy paved road leading out of the city with limited views and screaming traffic. The plan was to ride about 45 miles and it took about four and a half hours of ride time to accomplish that. Some of it was the heat but mostly the pace. Yeah, bike touring is pretty darn slow especially when you've committed to riding with a group. At one point Natasha took off on her own up the road so I followed, but soon we were stopped at a convenience store cooling off with a soda and ice cream.
Setting off from Dushanbe. My pushbike was keeping up just fine |
Foreshadowing the snickers |
Group dinner prep |
One of the main challenges of the entire trip was food and getting adequate calories in. Note, we did not eat the aforementioned dead cow! We'd heard that the food wasn't that great in the region and there were reports of many cyclists getting sick. I'm sorry to say that our experience was similar. Everyone in our group including Natasha and I got pretty badly sick within the first week, basically throttling us for an entire day. Not much you can do when you're running to the loo every few minutes and have zero energy. Thankfully for us we'd splurged that one day on a hotel so had a proper toilet to sit on rather than the usual hole in the ground.
Natasha and I were a bit food adventurous the first few days and tried whatever was available in the local restaurants including various forms of meat, but after our sickness -- which we blame on a chicken lunch -- we became vegetarians for the rest of the trip like most of our fellow riders.
Lunch was pretty unglamorous each day, basically two boiled eggs (boiled the night before), some stale bread, and a cucumber and tomato salad if we could find some at a roadside restaurant. And snickers bars -- lots and lots of snickers bars. These were available pretty much anywhere, even in the remotest villages where there wasn't much else but there were snickers bars!
Here's the good stuff or perhaps the only stuff |
The trip was roughly divided into three legs, the first week being the boiling trek from Dushanbe to Khorog, the second through the Wakhan valley all the way to Langar, and the third in the high plateaus beyond Langar and into Kyrgyzstan.
The road surface in the first week was pretty terrible. Natasha and I had gravel bikes and ride off-road a lot so enjoyed the terrain, but most others in our group were not so happy. J & C in particular had standard road bikes with slick tires and caliper brakes, so they were struggling both on the uphills and downhills. I don't blame them though because the gravel really wasn't like anything we'd seen before. Its not like the US where the gravel roads are graded and there is some predictability on what you'll get. Here it was a total mashup of everything -- babyhead rocks for a kilometer followed by deep gravel and then some random stretches of heavy sand sprinkled here and there. Overall it was quite the adventure just navigating our lines.
What didn't help at all was the abject and absolute failure of our tubeless sealant. I will have a somewhat detailed review of the new Finish Line "Forever" sealant in part 2 of this blog, but needless to say it gets an F- for quality. I think if we had put milk in our tires we'd have a higher chance of sealing pinhole punctures as perhaps the lactose would be a better sealing agent than this crap. As you can tell I have some strong feelings about this product -- its been a few weeks since we've been back but it still riles me up to no end how unprepared for the market this product really is and how everyone should run (not walk) away from it... more of my rant in part 2.
Puncture number n+1 |
The repairs continued well after the bikes were put away for the day |
This resulted in a mad search for spare tubes that involved me stopping at almost every shop and animating a bicycle tube in hand gestures, much to the amusement of the shop owner. Russian is spoken across the land with little to no English (though this is changing with the new generation as English is now taught in schools), and unfortunately none of us speak a lick of Russian! Nevertheless, improvised sign language and offline google translate worked alright most of the time.
Sagirdasht Pass |
Back on Sagirdasht, we all marveled at the landmine warning signs near the summit and wondered if they were just there to discourage tourists from wandering into the grazing fields. But turns out there are still active landmines buried in the area and one was just recently discovered not that far from where we had stopped. Thankfully, none of us had to run to the loo at the top else there may have been exploding poop everywhere, literally!
Nah I think I'll hold my pee, thank you very much! |
Bus shelters are great lunch spots! |
The top of the pass. Yes, another bus shelter. |
The descent from Sagirdasht is no joke. It is incredibly steep and the terrain is pretty loose so you cant' really let go of your brakes that much. We were pretty tired at this point but it still took us a couple of hours to descend all the way down to the town of Kalaikhum, where we thankfully bedded down in a hostel bed. Funny experience here was that the town actually has a fancy hotel and we first walked in there to ask for a room. The receptionist sized me up in my dirty bike kit and politely reminded me that this was a "five star" hotel and maybe a bit expensive for us. After seeing the price sheet and visible luxury status (not!) of the place, I agreed! So we ended up in a hostel nearby which worked out just fine.
The town had several good markets so we stocked up on food supplies here. What the town didn't have was any place that sold sunscreen. In her infinite wisdom, Natasha only brought a small tube of sunscreen for the both of us and it was already nearly empty. We'd eventually end up rationing our limited supply for the next few days till we arrived in Khorog where thankfully a beauty shop did have some, albeit expired but we didn't care!
Kalaikhum is the town where the North and South route out of Dushanbe meet up. This is also where you pick up the Panj river on your right and it stays with you for the next several days. Of note, on the other side of the river is Afghanistan! Over the next week and more, we exchanged numerous hellos across the flowing water, and politely declined a few genuine invitations to wade across where the river was narrow and calm. Mostly though the river was a mad gush of sediment and sand filled water and anyone dropping in there would have an express ride for miles and miles downstream!
On the other side of this river is Afghanistan |
Peering into Afghanistan |
I think we go thataway |
The Khorog market where we did a huge resupply |
Packing it all up! |
Jerry making new friends |
It took us a while to find a suitable camping spot this evening. Eventually we settled on this little shelter right next to a water source. |
Another lunch spot |
At some point we decided to pedal the 5 kilometers to Langar and reassess our plans for the rest of the journey. Personally, I didn't take the news well and just wanted to stop riding. In fact, it took a good two days for me to even consider getting back on the bike. I guess its different for everyone and the other folks we were riding with were on a year-long trek and didn't consider stopping. Natasha and I, on the other hand, were just riding for a month so the decision dynamics were different. But I'm glad we made the decision to keep going rather than to give into fear.
What Natasha and I did decide, however, was to forego the ride into the Zorkul Reserve along the Afghan border and get a taxi further North. Again, a personal call that we made. Everyone's risk tolerances are different and the two of us just felt more comfortable away from the border. Sadly we had to say goodbye to J & C and our other new friends as they all wanted to ride through the reserve. So early the next morning, we loaded our bikes onto the taxi and climbed up and over Khargush pass and into the high altitude town of Alichur at nearly 4,000 meters (13,000 feet). Here, we geared up our bikes again and started riding on the paved M41 highway. Soon, we came across a few "Yurt Hotel" and "Yurt Fast Food" signs so we decided to give a Yurtstay a try for the night.
Turns out it was one of the best overnights we had on the trip! Our host family was incredible and made us a delicious dinner of pasta and potatoes along with an endless stream of warm tea. The matriarch of the family, the grandma, also fired up the dung-fueled yurt stove so we would stay warm in the cold night and set out several warm quilts for us. The highlight of the night was a visit from a random feline companion who jumped into our bedding in the middle of the night and started purring loudly. Good thing we both love cats, else it might have become a scene! We quite enjoyed the company and the cat obliged with her slutty purrs all night long.
Inside the yurt |
Happy kitty |
The thin air at this altitude really does play games with you. I've had problems at altitude before but was confident that our gradual climb over the last couple of weeks would serve as good acclimatization, and it did. I didn't feel any symptoms of altitude sickness, but what I did feel was the lack of oxygen! I have a power meter on my bike for kicks and it was incredibly hard just to push normal endurance pace, let alone tempo or threshold. Going into tempo on some steep stuff felt like anaerobic efforts. After a week+ over 4,000 meters, I'm pretty sure my supply of red blood cells is the highest its ever been!
It be very high |
Murghab is one of the larger towns in the area, a collection of maybe 50-60 buildings and of course a giant portrait of the president (who btw was featured every few kilometers on our journey through the country). Murghab also features a nice lodge, the Pamir hotel, which offers a decent place to sleep though we'd heard not so great things about their food. So we decided to cook our own meals and they were kind enough to let us use their kitchen. Good decision in hindsight because we later discovered that one of our friends got badly sick after eating dinner there. As did 23 out of 28 riders in a group that we'd met earlier!
The incredibly humble president. His posters are only plastered say every 2-3 kilometers |
Ak Baital! |
Once over the Ak Baitel pass, we made a rapid descent and started looking for an appropriate place to camp. Given the heavy wind, we were hoping to find some protection and found this abandoned building right next to a confluence of several streams and called it home for the night. There was all kinds of nastiness inside the walls but we made do and slept soundly after a nice freeze dried dinner.
Campsite for the night. Out of the wind is all that mattered! |
Nice and cozy inside the tent |
The homestay was very comfortable and even had a "tourist" toilet, which got Natasha in a tizzy as she went all conservationist on them and wondered why every toilet wasn't a tourist toilet. Over the years I've learned to listen when she's on a rant. Just listen. And nod.
The views in the early morning the next day were just out of this world. We awoke very early so we could make it over the two border passes before the wind kicked up, and the early riding was stunningly beautiful. We stopped a lot to take pictures, perhaps a bit too much because the wind did start to pick up after the first of two 4300 meter passes. In fact, we turned into what was likely a 35mph headwind climbing uphill to the border. It was so bad that I couldn't even breathe properly because the wind was going straight up my nose! And my frame bag acted like a sail so I had to keep wrestling with the bike just to keep it upright. But the higher we went, the more snow-capped mountains came into view and it ended up being worth the effort.
Early morning in Karakul |
Tash had the right idea on how to resist the wind blowing out your nostrils |
Marco Polo sheep at the top |
Once past the border, we entered a 20 kilometer stretch of no-man's land, something that we later discovered is common between Central Asian countries. Unfortunately I had another puncture right as we started descending and poor Natasha had to climb back up to me as she was worried something bad had happened. The views in the valley though were mind blowing. You could see all the high peaks, with Lenin peak above 7,000 meters visible from where we stood. We were in absolute awe as we descended down the road.
Here, we rain into a NZ couple and carried out some economics with them by exchanging Tajik Somoni for Kyrgyz Soms. They alerted us to some nice camping spots not far away and sure enough we found an amazing spot off the road and next to a clear running stream where we pitched our tent and cooked a nice meal. It was surreal sleeping in no-man's land, its as if we were not on planet earth and the scenery certainly contributed to that ambiance.
The next day saw us pass through the Kyrgyzstan border where the guards were completely the opposite of the Tajik guards -- super friendly and congenial. One of them said that in the winter it snows up to 8 meters here, yet they still maintain the border even in those conditions!
The descent into Sary Tash was again quite stunning, with scores and scores of wild horses running around the fields and incredibly lush green landscape. This was quite a contrast to the dry and barren moonscape that we'd seen just on the other side of the border. Natasha, of course, was especially pleased to enter this town and claimed I'd have to do everything she said that evening as the town was named after her. Of course the irony is that's how things run pretty much every evening.
Horses roam free in Kyrgyzstan |
La jefa |
The descent |
We found bike boxes! |
We played tourist for a day in Bishkek and ate some more, though we most certainly did not try the local specialty pictured below.
I would have quite a bit of trepidation ordering this dish! |
Sit down. Take it all in. |