Pamir Highway Day 3

 

Stats

Today's Route 

Route So Far 

Travelogue 

After a night of little sleep but more than a little woofing and howling, I got up at first light. That's 4:30 to you.

I hiked down to the river and got some more water for drinking. The river water was clearer than yesterday but still not safe to drink in its natural state (especially with all those farm animals around) so it all got pushed through my water filter and into my cycling bottles. To kill any viruses that be lurking, I zapped both bottles with UV from my Steripen Ultralight. It's a great system. I'm writing this more than 24 hours later and having drunk litres of water from the river, I've felt no ill effects.

K1 was up a bit later and we chatted about the plan and options we might need to consider depending on how things panned out. Key was getting to the nearest village, Aligalabon, 8 km away. We might be able to find transport for us and our bikes there.

We set off at about 6 a.m. It took three and a half hours to travel the 8 km. I cycled and waited at corners for K1 who pushed his bike uphill in stages, resting whenever he needed to. I thought he seemed improved until he told me he'd vomited again. 

Eventually we started to descend and K1 was able to cycle. We entered the small village. It looked like a place where people don't have a great deal.

I was first to arrive as K1 was very sensibly being extra careful descending the rough road. As usual I was greeted by small children talking to me enthusiastically. One encouraged me (in Tajik) to move under a shady tree with him and his little friends rather than wait for K1 in the already hot sun. How kind is that?

There was little other sign of life at this end of the village.

K1 arrived and we cycled further into the village, hoping that something would present itself to us.

And it did. I saw a man standing outside what turned out to be the village store (you wouldn't have known). I prepared a question using Google Translate and approached him.

Another man got involved and there was a discussion between the men. We didn't know exactly what was happening at this stage but it seemed positive. People were trying to help us, that was clear.

We'd leant our bikes against the wall of a building. I went over and joined K1 to await the outcome of my attempt to find us transport.

A young man we'd not previously noticed came over to us some time later and also using Google Translate, told us a "taxi" had been ordered that would be big enough for the bikes and that it would arrive in one hour. We assumed he meant a truck rather than a car and were relieved to hear this. 

We waited and waited. It was already incredibly hot so we tried to stay in the shade. We were bugged and bitten by aggressive flies.

I went over to the man I'd first spoken to and used Google Translate to ask if there was a store in the village. He pointed at the open doorway into a dark and dingy room just behind him! 

The shop had a selection of drinks, cool enough thanks to the absence of windows, and a freezer full of ice creams! I bought drinks. K1 decided to try an ice cream. Apparently his stomach was happy with the choice as he bought another three while we waited for the taxi and ate them all. I didn't see these ice creams again, happily!

As always we found ourselves the centre of attention from loads of kids of various ages.

The kids on the donkeys made it very clear that they wanted a go on our bikes. We declined. But they were really, really persistent (in a cheeky way) and took a long time to tire of what was evidently a great game to them. "Go on mate, give us a go on your bike! Go on!".

There was a girl of about 13 who lived in one of the houses we were standing by, shaded by a tree. She kept coming by, grinning and saying something I couldn't understand. She also had a cheeky way about her! 

Eventually she went back into her garden which contained the tree that was giving us the shade we needed. She disappeared but shortly after, reappeared with a younger girl I assume was her sister. She spoke to me and I realised she was trying to say something in English though I couldn't understand the whole sentence. Eventually the girls' mum joined them. She was smiling too but had a very humble way about her. She tried the mystery sentence and I finally understood she was asking if I could spare some Somoni. I looked in my bag, found a 50 Somoni note (£4.10) and handed it to her through the fence. They all responded with what was clearly gratitude.

I turned away and went back to waiting for our taxi. But then I heard a voice from over the fence, trying to attract my attention. I turned around and the younger daughter handed me something wrapped in a black plastic bag. It was clearly a gift of something so I smiled and thanked her. She left and I turned around again.

I looked in the bag. It was a small piece of bread, torn off from a flat round loaf. I assume they'd given me what little they had to thank me. It was incredibly moving.

We continued to wait for the taxi long after the expected hour had elapsed, wondering briefly if maybe there'd been a misunderstanding but then telling ourselves that no, the taxi would come. We continued to have faith in these lovely people who were trying to help us and eventually our patience was rewarded.

The taxi arrived. And it was a normal estate car with a wooden roof rack. 

I took one pedal off The Mule so the bike could go on the roof without the pedal scratching it. The driver helped me lift the bike onto the roof and lashed it to the roof rack with cord. 

Meanwhile K1 removed his bike's handlebars and Donkey was loaded into the car with our bags.

K1 got into the back of the car alongside his bike. I got into the front with the driver.

We set off at speed along the road we'd cycled in on. It was quite alarming at first! But the driver was excellent and knew the road like the back of his hand.

His battered car had a few foibles. He stopped a couple of times to lift the bonnet. It was hard to start and he'd often bump start it by rolling downhill and then lifting the clutch. Once it was going though, it did the job.

Whizzing round bends in the style of a rally driver, there were times I thought I'd never see The Mule again but I needn't have worried. 

As we approached the end of the road around the reservoir we came to a water pipe we'd seen on the way up. The driver recommended we wash our faces to cool down. It was s great tip!

We eventually rejoined the tarmac road. The drive only took a few hours but it was very hot. On two occasions the driver had to stop and deal with police. He clearly explained that carrying a bike on his roof rack was not allowed. I assume he paid to be allowed to continue.

I booked a four star hotel in Dushanbe while we were driving. We deserved some creature comforts.

After resting a while we got organised. I listed things we needed to get done. K1, seeming better thanks to air-conditioning, booked flights home. Availability and price meant we couldn't get home until Sunday, six days away. That's perhaps as well because we're going to need to find or devise a way of boxing up our bikes and getting them and us to the airport, which could take time.

So that's it. Pamir Highway blogging probably ends here.

Pamir Highway Day 2

 

Stats

Today's Route 

This is not how we remember the terrain!

Route So Far

Travelogue 

After a comfortable night sleeping on mats on the floor of our generous host's room we got up at 5.00 once again, hoping to avoid some of the hottest part of the day.

We'd been asked to use an outside toilet rather than one in the house because our host's brother's wife was present (although we never saw or heard her). That was an experience. No intimate photos exist but here's the outside.

Beehives on the left.

We got our bikes ready for departure. I had my solar panel set up on The Mule to charge my UGreen 25000 mAh power bank.

Our host had insisted on providing us with breakfast but nobody seemed to be around. We didn't want to leave without at least saying another thank you. Eventually at about 8:00 we found Muqim outside, said our goodbyes and were on our way, aiming once more to cover about 90 km.

Muqim on the left with businessman brother right

It was already warm and of course we started climbing instantly.

I was still carrying the melon I'd been gifted yesterday so we found a place to stop where we could sit in shade and had melon for breakfast. Yum.

Onwards. We stopped at a store for drinks and snacks. We were carrying plenty of water, especially K1 who had brought a 3 litre camelbak as well as bottles. I had my bottles and strapped a large bottle to the bags at the back as well.

The scenery and environment evolved and we stopped to drink and take photos whenever we felt like it.

We cycled into a small but unbelievably busy town on market day. We were offered free melons again but this time managed to escape the delights of having a heavy gourd hanging from handlebars!

There was a livestock market at the end of the town's main street as well. The place was buzzing with activity.

Onwards. The road started getting rougher but was still predominantly tarmac. We just had to be careful the bikes weren't damaged.

We found ourselves on a very new section of beautiful tarmacked road. Beautiful but with a 10% gradient, eventually settling to a mere 8%, we earned every metre. Have I mentioned that our bikes are somewhat heavy?

I tend to lead, with K1 following. I glance back when I can to make sure K1 is at least still in sight but only when I can risk taking my eyes off the road in front. This is even harder when crawling slowly uphill as it takes concentration to keep the bike in a straight line at low speeds. Anyway, very soon a big gap was opening up between myself and K1. This would later prove fortuitous.

I climbed for 2 km often in bottom gear. At the top the road descended and I could see a new bus stop about 100 metres away. I cycled down the hill to it and sat down, awaiting K1.

I looked at the map to see what was ahead and realised we'd missed a turn and cycling 2 km up this hill had been completely unnecessary! Oooops! K1 is sure to find this funny, I thought..... But just in case he didn't, I jumped back on The Mule and cycled back up and then down to get to him before he wasted too much energy. Luckily he was way behind. Could have been worse. I don't remember him exactly laughing though :-)

We got back on route and continued.

Everywhere we go we encounter unbelievably cute and excited children. They always say hello and sometimes line up by the road with their hands out so you can slap them as you pass. It's a risky business and we've heard that slapping children in the head or running them over is frowned upon. We also don't fancy falling off as we execute the manoeuvre! But so far, so good. Which is as well because the kids here are awesome.

We arrived in the small town of Obigarm and bought some more drinks and some food. I bought a bag of bananas which the cheeky teenager who served me initially tried to rip me off over but luckily I'm now familiar with the currency and what things cost. I gave him my best skeptical look and he grinned and divided the asking price by 4 with an extra banana thrown in because he didn't have the right change.

Around the next bend we met some other cyclists; a group of three from the US and two German guys. We had a chat. The Americans had been given a watermelon and really wanted to share it for obvious reasons! We declined. We're experienced in the subject of melon transportation.

But then a local man from a hotel over the road presented the Americans with a bag of round, flat loaves of bread. We were happy to take one each, thinking it would make a nice part of dinner.

We left the town. The road started to get rough but we didn't yet know what rough was.

Rogun Reservoir appeared on our right. 

It's huge and the area is incredibly scenic. But tarmac was now a memory. The road now consisted of stones, gravel, sand, potholes, dips and ramps. Tough cycling requiring power on the uphill sections and technical skills throughout.

We stopped to admire a view and take on fluids when one of the German cyclists caught us up and gave K1 a fuel bottle that had dropped off his bike. The guy had chased after us to do this good deed!

It was hot, at least in the mid-thirties Celsius. My Thermodrop showed 38 at one point.

The road got rougher. And then it started to climb quite steeply, I believe with an 8% gradient which on that rough and unstable surface was tough going.

We weren't completely alone although there were no inhabited buildings anywhere. We were passed by a couple of adventure motorcyclists and the occasional local car but this only happened every now and again.

This guy was from Belarus 

K1 was seriously lagging behind and it was clear he was having a hard time. I kept waiting to allow him to catch up to make sure we stayed together but a substantial gap did keep opening up.

K1 is in the following three photos.

I cycled up this particularly tough section with effort but ultimately no real difficulty. The technical aspects, ensuring the front wheel didn't go sideways was the hardest part. But I trained really hard for this trip and it showed here.

I stopped to look back and saw K1 was off the bike and laboriously pushing it up the hill a few metres at a time. 

I parked The Mule and hiked 100 metres or so down the hill. K1 really didn't look good and complained of feeling sick. I was worried, if I'm honest. K1 was not confused and was still sweating (so, not heat exhaustion thank goodness) and given he's a doctor was able to tell me he thought he was dehydrated (despite all the drinking). This might not sound like a big deal but it can become serious.

I took his bike off him and pushed it up to where I'd left The Mule to allow K1 to rest.

We sat a while and K1 took on fluids but still looked bad. He's a determined guy though and we continued in the same manner. I cycled ahead to the next place I could stop. Again I hiked back and pushed K1's bike up the hill to my bike.

K1 was clearly deteriorating. We found a tiny patch of shade and he sat in it. I told him to take his top off. It was very hot and he needed to cool down.

We made a little more progress and sat on a concrete rampart to allow K1 a rest. He spotted a small flatbed truck coming up the hill and asked if I could flag it down. I got to my feet and was able to get the driver to stop. He spoke no English but with gestures I conveyed that my friend needed help and could he and his bike travel in the truck. The driver agreed and K1 and I hastily came up with a rough plan. K1 would travel up the road, ideally to the next village which was probably about 15 km away. I'd keep cycling and we'd meet somewhere on the route we were following. This all happened quickly. I helped get K1's bike and bags into the truck and then watched as K1 was driven away. It then hit me that I was now totally alone.

And there was no mobile network coverage here.

K1 disappeared. I pushed The Mule for about 50 metres through a very sandy section. A German motorcyclist reached me and we had a chat. He asked if I needed any help which was nice.

Through the worst of the sand, I remounted and continued to cycle uphill with effort.

My bike started to make a noise. Great. One of my fork bags had come loose, slid down and rotated on the fork so that it was in contact with the wheel. Not a showstopper fortunately. I took the bag off, repositioned and tightened the mounting bracket.

I reached the top with some relief it has to be said. My legs had been heroic and hot though it was, I felt fine. But I was glad the effort needed now reduced.

I cycled on the flat for a little while and then started a technically hard descent. At the bottom I found K1 literally lying in the road in some shade, his head resting on one of his bags. If it hadn't been for that last detail I'd have been seriously alarmed.

K1 told me he'd vomitted. Things were not improving and all I could think about was getting through this safely. 

K1 said he could continue and I helped get his bike ready. We rolled down a hill and over a bridge. Around a bend we saw a car parked on a flat grassy plateau above a river. I checked the map. We were about 8 km from a village but we'd need to climb 450 metres (I estimated) to get there. This was too much. K1 needed rest, shade and fluids.

The plateau was reached via a steep ramp. I rode The Mule down carefully. K1 stayed up at the road sitting on a wall. I put my tent up and K1 walked down without his bike but with his tent in its bag. He put the groundsheet down and lay down.

I finished sorting out my tent and suggested we share. I said it would be easier but really I wanted to keep an eye on him. My feet must smell really bad because K1 opted to have his own tent. I took over, put K1's tent up and then got his bike and other bags down to the plateau.

K1 was vomiting again whilst simultaneously assuring me he was ok. I wasn't so sure but rest, shade and fluids seemed the only possible response. And patience.

There was a lot of foot traffic on the path from the road to the river. Animal herdsmen, kids and fishermen. I still have no idea where they came from but there was a small road that branches off from our route so presumably there was a hamlet not shown on the map up there. Everyone showed a lot of friendly interest in us. Apart from "hello" from kids, nobody spoke any English.

I walked down to the river and washed my face and hands in the cold, fast flowing waters. It had been a tough day. I was covered in dust from the road. It felt good.

I went back to check on K1. No real change. I checked my water situation and thinking ahead realised I should get more especially while I had a nearby supply. I finished my big bottle of coke and hiked down to the river again. I filled the bottle from a point upstream from where the animals were crossing. The water looked brown and full of sediment.

Back at the tents I used my water filter for the first time. It removes particles, bacteria and protozoa. The river water emerged from it crystal clear which was amazing.

I'd decided to cook and would initially use this water for that. Boiling it would finish anything off that still lurked.

K1 and I talked about our two days on the Pamir Highway and how it had gone. It was a frank but amiable discussion. 

I said I didn't think K1 should continue and that we should look for a way to get back to Dushanbe. I was very concerned about how K1 would cope with the much harder climbs ahead of us and about even more remote parts of the country we'd be in where a passing flatbed truck might appear once every day if that.

K1 agreed without hesitation. He asked if I was going to continue alone. I said no. In truth, I wanted to so much. I felt very fit and the heat had not been a problem for me. I've dreamed about and planned this trip for years. But there was no way K1 could travel unsupported and at this stage we didn't know how we'd get back. More cycling in the heat might be our only option.

So that was it.

The trip was over. The dream was dead.

K1 vomited again. I felt sure we were making the right decision no matter how hard it was. 

After rest, more fluids and with a very empty stomach, K1 was feeling a little better and decided to try a little of my dubious camp cooking. If it's not already obvious that he's brave....

Dinner was oatmeal cooked in boiled water with a couple of salty stock cubes. K1 had a very small portion. I had a large helping and added a generous handful of shelled pistachios. It hit the spot.

Despite the exertion and heat of the day, I was grateful that I felt fine and quite energetic and fit. Thank you Box Hill in Surrey (my training hill!).

A man and his two small sons appeared, returning from fishing, a tiny live fish in a plastic bottle. 

Three young men back from fishing got into nearby car and left.

We sat for a while in our excellent camping chairs. It was quiet now with just the sound of the river and birdsong for company. 

We retreated to our tents as the sun went down and tried to sleep. I had a lot to think about so sleep didn't come easy. Should I find a way for K1 to be driven to Dushanbe and continue solo from here? Would he be ok? How would I feel in that situation if our roles were reversed? What if I travelled back to Dushanbe, got K1 settled in a hotel with return flights booked and then started cycling again on my own? Would cycling the Pamir Highway alone ever be wise? My brain wouldn't shut up. I didn't want to abort but K1 had to come first and I wanted to make a sound decision for myself as well.  Starting again from Dushanbe having lost a week or so wasn't appealing either. Eventually I slept. But not for long.

A local dog found us. Apparently it wasn't happy to find tents pitched on its territory. There was loud, semi-aggressive barking getting closer and closer. And howling. This summoned another couple of dogs. They joined the barking and howling. It was a little scary to be honest!

Sleep. But the dogs came back.

Brain. Thinking. Worrying. Eventually I got up at about 3 am and paced about outside under the stars.

Eventually I had to accept that the only acceptable course of action was to abort the plan and get home. 

I went back to my tent with my thoughts settled but thoroughly depressed.

But that's life. And with K1 ok, I'll get over it :-)

P.s. my Ugreen 3 port 25000 mAh power bank and solar panel do not like each other and the power bank actually lost charge. Bummer.