As the techno-pop blares from this internet cafe, and i have to hold the 'e' for a full second for it to register, horns blast on the street, shashlyk- meat on a skewer roasts over coals, bowl after bowl of chay (tea) is drunk, and every variety of meat filled pastries is fried, i am overwhelmed with where to begin. It has been a long time since i have really travelled, and there are so many emotions that go on each day. There is the beauty of travel, of seeing new and incredible places, meeting generous and kind people, experiencing different cultures, riding bikes in some of the most outstanding places i have ever been. At the same time there is almost being hit by cars because the people here all seemed to have learned to drive by playing Pole Position, drinking bowlfuls of fermented mares milk that tastes like drinking an entire horse, eating pepto bismal all day long because there are demons inside, having every child scream hello at the top of their lungs, and carrying rocks in handlebar bags to defend against chasing dogs.
SABAKA! This is 'dog' in Russian. It is one of the few words I really know, that i don't translate. Chay, 'tea', is another, and both have become obsessions since being here. The latter being what i really want, and the other that which i loathe. Anyone who has ever biked knows about dogs. There is just something about bikes that dogs hate. I have heard tricks, like spraying water from a water bottle, and throwing rocks, but most of the time it's really hard to do anything, especially when going downhill, so I have just tried to outrun them. It seems that most people here have dogs, and it seemed that at least once a day we would be charged. Not just barked at, but seriously close, dogs at the legs, adrenaline pumping charged.
I began to get really obsessed. I would daydream while riding about being attacked, about defending myself, about whether beating the dogs head in would be more effective or perhaps stabbing would be better. I decided to buy a knife i could strap on my leg, so that when the dog was latched on I could stab it. My senses would heighten at the approach of every building, looking and listening for any sign of SABAKA.
It really started to wear on me, but I didn't know what to do. In the town where i was going to buy my knife, we happened to run into a Kiwi couple, who enlightened us. Unfortunately, the guy was in the process of getting rabies shots because he had been bit, but they told us to stop and hold our ground. Instead of trying to outrun the dogs, which just gets them more fired up, stop, face them, and pretend to throw a rock, or throw it. Well, anything was worth a try, so the next dog we did it. Stopped, and the dog went from full sprint to dead stop. Its worked everytime! I think i've only thrown a couple of rocks. I also started noticing the way dogs are treated here, and they are pretty much pelted with rocks all day by their owners. Thank God- conquered sabaka!
In my mind, the trip so far has been divided in two parts. The cold, mountain part, and the hot, valley part. For the first couple weeks, we only had maybe 3 days without threatening skies, or rain. We went to Issyk Kol, the second largest alpine lake in the world. The water was almost as beautiful and clear as Tahoe, and I was determined to have a beach day, even though it was mostly windy and rainy. Supposedly it was like Cancun up the road, but our beach just had donkeys and a delicious tandoori oven bread shop!
We then headed to Song Kol. Tyler wrote a little about the climb to get there. Two days before we got there, it snowed, and the day we left, there were flurries. But on the day we arrived it was one of those absolutely perfect, clear, no humidity, color popping days. When we reached the top of the pass, at 10,000ft, navigating through snowmelt, horses, cows, and sheep, one of the shepherds came over on his horse. He was an older man, asked us the time and then offered us some sort of yogurt drink. It was tasty, and after offering us the whole bottle of it, he motioned for me to get on his horse! It was awesome to be on his beautiful horse in this amazing place, where it just seems to belong. As we rode down the pass in the late afternoon light, it was hard to get anywhere because it was so incredible! It is like Montana/Vermont/Switzerland- so green and lush, with big open skies, towering white capped peaks in the distance, and flowers that make fields of red and purple. Then, beyond the landscape, there are herds of sheep and horses, with no fences, and white yurts scattered about. It is so idyllic looking, its ridiculous. Shangri-La, truly.
After a few more passes, and yurt filled green landscapes, we began descending toward the Fergana Valley. Suddenly, there were watermelons, apricots, peaches, and tomatoes for sale along the roads! What a treat after bread, noodles, animal fat, and every assortment of dairy product imaginable. These lower elevations also meant heat. I do not love the heat, but I accept that it is involved while biking in Central Asia. Yet, it was now hot. I was sweating while at camp at 7 in the morning. This does not bode well for climbing and riding in treeless, dry areas. I felt like I was in New Mexico. By 2 o'clock it felt like riding in an oven. Even going downhill provided no relief. It jut moved the hot air around. I began to think it was not a good idea to keep riding. We ended up huddled under the shade of one bush on the side of the highway for almost 3 hours, as we waited out the heat to keep riding. We then began waking up at 5 AM, to ride early, and then taking a break in the heat of the day.
To recap- we've biked 1457 km. It's been 28 days since we left California. We've had 2 flats. We've drunk countless cups of tea and answered the question "where are you from?" countless times. Kyrgyzstan has been amazing and i have my fingers crossed that the rest of our trip can live up to this auspicious beginning.
Missing everyone and sending lots of love, adrianne and tyler
Friday, June 28, 2013
Topography and Talking
Kyrgyzstan has been amazing. We have been learning to expect the unexpected.
There have been some incredible days on the bikes and some very challenging days as well.
Part of the challenge is the topography. Kyrgyzstan is roughly the size of South Dakota, however there is quite a bit more relief here, so if it were flattened it would cover many South Dakotas. The distances we have been travelling may seem short to some of you, but when one considers that those 100 km may have been covered on dirt roads of every condition imaginable, and on slopes of 12 percent that last for 10 km while carrying food for a few days, and everything else needed for camping in potentially cold places, it makes the days more tiring than the numbers suggest.
When we made the climb up to Song Kol from the direction of Kochkor, we were fortunate to have a beautiful sunny day with pleasant temperatures. Which was good, because we climbed slightly uphill for most of the morning before getting to the real climb before noon. We then rode our bikes very slowly towards the pass which led to the lake. Including the break for lunch which was minutes long, not hours, our time riding up the 10km long steeper bit was just about three hours. At one point, while still pedaling and making apparently geologic progress towards the pass, the computer mounted to the front wheel indicated our forward speed was none. "I'm going zero!"
The mountains which make the riding challenging also make it unbelievably rewarding. Some of the most spectacular scenery either of us have ever seen has been seen in this short month in Kyrgyzstan. The pass described above was rewarding for the view with which we were greeted at the top, and also because the pass had a top. Others we have ridden since then have been a little bit soul sucking for their folds. Well certainly just around this next corner...no...just up here....what the....okay now for real...the road dips and follows a contour and somehow there is another shoulder of the mountain which must be rounded and climbed before the long-sought descent can begin. -- But some of the descents have been pretty nice, also lasting for all of a morning and a good bit of the afternoon.
Along with the topography, talking has presented a bit of a challenge. Our Russian has improved greatly since our arrival. It would have been nearly impossible for that not to be true given the extent of our Russian knowledge before arrival. And our Kyrgyz, astronomical improvements. We now know something approaching ten words. This makes camping much easier than during the first days outside of Bishkek. Those of you who have asked someone who speaks a language other than one with which you can communicate if you can camp on their land can appreciate the difficulty this presents. Some of our early attempts included heavy use of the dictionary and even greater gesticulating than normal.
"We...tent." pointing to our trailers indicating that there is a tent hiding somewhere inside the yellow BOB trailer bags.
This sentence being met by some sort of acknowledgement that the listener understands was then followed by the much more challenging sentence, "We...tent?" With lots of finger pointing between us to be sure the proper "we" was understood, then two hands joined at chest height in front of us then separated and sloping towards the ground to indicate the rough roofline of our tent, and pointing at the ground in front of us, or just over there in that field and very importantly raising our eyebrows enough to indicate that the second sentence is very different than the first and is in fact a question asking permission, and not a statement about our possessions.
Somehow, and as testament to the kindness of most of the Kyrgyz people we were able to communicate in this manner. We have had some wonderful conversations during which no individual word was understood, but a huge amount of information was communicated. It is amazing what can be understood when one has the desire to really listen to what another is trying to say.
One evening when we had set up our camp in a beautiful spot next to a little river in the hills just above the major cross-country highway, a local shepherd stopped by to see what we were doing. His summer home in the hills with his herds was a tent not too far from our own. Satisfied with a very brief exchange that we were okay, he came back later with the perfect gift of half a watermelon. In the morning, he came back and we had some very interesting conversations. We were curious how many sheep he had.
"You,...how many...baaaa?"
"Fifty.'
"Good....good."
"You, house here?"
"Just over there in that tent."
"Good ...good."
"Winter...snow...home here?"
"No, the snow is too deep for the horses."
-Good- seeming an odd response to this answer, no words, but head nodding to indicate understanding.
"You, winter house where?"
"Bishkek."
"Good...good."
More recently we were on our way to Arslanbob, where the world's largest walnut forest hides in the shadows of some magnificent alpine scenery. For those of you interested, the skiing is probably phenomenal (well pretty much all over the country it looks pretty spectacular, but in Arslanbob, there are some folks trying to get the backcountry yurt skiing going- Really hope it works out). Hyett described skiing through widely spaced walnut trees and made it sound pretty magical.
We had not quite made it to Arslanbob, as it had been another convection oven day with many kilometers covered. We were riding slowly uphill on a road that was not presenting many camping opportunities, because there were houses everywhere. Two women and a small boy sat on a little bench in front of their fence near the road. One appeared to be the mother, the other the grandmother. They were very pleased when we greeted them in the local language and smiled warmly. After a brief exchange, we decided to turn around and ask them, "Hello, excuse me, we have a tent. May we tent there?"
Well, as has been the case more than once, it did not work out as we expected. We were told we could set up the tent, but since we were having such a happy time talking to them, and they seemed to be having such a good time talking to us, they changed their minds. "Put the tent away, you should stay in our house."
It is very difficult to capture just how wonderful our hosts were on that evening. The family is ethnically Uzbek, but they have been living in that part of the world for many generations. (We met someone else who represented the 28th generation of his Uzbek family living there.) long before the country of Kyrgyzstan was created. We had tea, and bread and something very similar to dulce de leche, a delicious dinner, a wash in the river, washed some clothes, and had a great time talking long into the evening. Some sad stories were told of violence three years ago during which Kyrgyz and Uzbeks were fighting. The very sweet four year old boy who was keeping everyone entertained by wearing my glasses and waving the flags from our trailers around was one year old at the time. The family told us how they had hidden in the hills trying to keep him from crying so that they would not all be killed. -and most of this was told in Uzbek with a little bit of Russian, but it was very clear that this was the story. Most of the evening was lighter and there was a great deal of laughter. It was decided that we would spread the word in America that there is an awesome family on the way to Arslanbob where everyone must stop to visit.-(Those of you planning your trip, we can offer more details later.) We were instructed to take pictures of ourselves by the big waterfall further up the road, and after we spent the night near the walnut trees, we had to stop by their house in the morning and share the pictures. We did. And it was once again a delight to be near such warm and welcoming people.
Our time in Kyrgyzstan will soon be up as we now turn to the north and head toward Kazakhstan, Russia and Mongolia. It will not soon be forgotten.
Thank you for your continued thoughts and prayers.
Be well-
Tyler and Adrianne (aka Tylor and Adreeann)
There have been some incredible days on the bikes and some very challenging days as well.
Part of the challenge is the topography. Kyrgyzstan is roughly the size of South Dakota, however there is quite a bit more relief here, so if it were flattened it would cover many South Dakotas. The distances we have been travelling may seem short to some of you, but when one considers that those 100 km may have been covered on dirt roads of every condition imaginable, and on slopes of 12 percent that last for 10 km while carrying food for a few days, and everything else needed for camping in potentially cold places, it makes the days more tiring than the numbers suggest.
When we made the climb up to Song Kol from the direction of Kochkor, we were fortunate to have a beautiful sunny day with pleasant temperatures. Which was good, because we climbed slightly uphill for most of the morning before getting to the real climb before noon. We then rode our bikes very slowly towards the pass which led to the lake. Including the break for lunch which was minutes long, not hours, our time riding up the 10km long steeper bit was just about three hours. At one point, while still pedaling and making apparently geologic progress towards the pass, the computer mounted to the front wheel indicated our forward speed was none. "I'm going zero!"
The mountains which make the riding challenging also make it unbelievably rewarding. Some of the most spectacular scenery either of us have ever seen has been seen in this short month in Kyrgyzstan. The pass described above was rewarding for the view with which we were greeted at the top, and also because the pass had a top. Others we have ridden since then have been a little bit soul sucking for their folds. Well certainly just around this next corner...no...just up here....what the....okay now for real...the road dips and follows a contour and somehow there is another shoulder of the mountain which must be rounded and climbed before the long-sought descent can begin. -- But some of the descents have been pretty nice, also lasting for all of a morning and a good bit of the afternoon.
Along with the topography, talking has presented a bit of a challenge. Our Russian has improved greatly since our arrival. It would have been nearly impossible for that not to be true given the extent of our Russian knowledge before arrival. And our Kyrgyz, astronomical improvements. We now know something approaching ten words. This makes camping much easier than during the first days outside of Bishkek. Those of you who have asked someone who speaks a language other than one with which you can communicate if you can camp on their land can appreciate the difficulty this presents. Some of our early attempts included heavy use of the dictionary and even greater gesticulating than normal.
"We...tent." pointing to our trailers indicating that there is a tent hiding somewhere inside the yellow BOB trailer bags.
This sentence being met by some sort of acknowledgement that the listener understands was then followed by the much more challenging sentence, "We...tent?" With lots of finger pointing between us to be sure the proper "we" was understood, then two hands joined at chest height in front of us then separated and sloping towards the ground to indicate the rough roofline of our tent, and pointing at the ground in front of us, or just over there in that field and very importantly raising our eyebrows enough to indicate that the second sentence is very different than the first and is in fact a question asking permission, and not a statement about our possessions.
Somehow, and as testament to the kindness of most of the Kyrgyz people we were able to communicate in this manner. We have had some wonderful conversations during which no individual word was understood, but a huge amount of information was communicated. It is amazing what can be understood when one has the desire to really listen to what another is trying to say.
One evening when we had set up our camp in a beautiful spot next to a little river in the hills just above the major cross-country highway, a local shepherd stopped by to see what we were doing. His summer home in the hills with his herds was a tent not too far from our own. Satisfied with a very brief exchange that we were okay, he came back later with the perfect gift of half a watermelon. In the morning, he came back and we had some very interesting conversations. We were curious how many sheep he had.
"You,...how many...baaaa?"
"Fifty.'
"Good....good."
"You, house here?"
"Just over there in that tent."
"Good ...good."
"Winter...snow...home here?"
"No, the snow is too deep for the horses."
-Good- seeming an odd response to this answer, no words, but head nodding to indicate understanding.
"You, winter house where?"
"Bishkek."
"Good...good."
More recently we were on our way to Arslanbob, where the world's largest walnut forest hides in the shadows of some magnificent alpine scenery. For those of you interested, the skiing is probably phenomenal (well pretty much all over the country it looks pretty spectacular, but in Arslanbob, there are some folks trying to get the backcountry yurt skiing going- Really hope it works out). Hyett described skiing through widely spaced walnut trees and made it sound pretty magical.
We had not quite made it to Arslanbob, as it had been another convection oven day with many kilometers covered. We were riding slowly uphill on a road that was not presenting many camping opportunities, because there were houses everywhere. Two women and a small boy sat on a little bench in front of their fence near the road. One appeared to be the mother, the other the grandmother. They were very pleased when we greeted them in the local language and smiled warmly. After a brief exchange, we decided to turn around and ask them, "Hello, excuse me, we have a tent. May we tent there?"
Well, as has been the case more than once, it did not work out as we expected. We were told we could set up the tent, but since we were having such a happy time talking to them, and they seemed to be having such a good time talking to us, they changed their minds. "Put the tent away, you should stay in our house."
It is very difficult to capture just how wonderful our hosts were on that evening. The family is ethnically Uzbek, but they have been living in that part of the world for many generations. (We met someone else who represented the 28th generation of his Uzbek family living there.) long before the country of Kyrgyzstan was created. We had tea, and bread and something very similar to dulce de leche, a delicious dinner, a wash in the river, washed some clothes, and had a great time talking long into the evening. Some sad stories were told of violence three years ago during which Kyrgyz and Uzbeks were fighting. The very sweet four year old boy who was keeping everyone entertained by wearing my glasses and waving the flags from our trailers around was one year old at the time. The family told us how they had hidden in the hills trying to keep him from crying so that they would not all be killed. -and most of this was told in Uzbek with a little bit of Russian, but it was very clear that this was the story. Most of the evening was lighter and there was a great deal of laughter. It was decided that we would spread the word in America that there is an awesome family on the way to Arslanbob where everyone must stop to visit.-(Those of you planning your trip, we can offer more details later.) We were instructed to take pictures of ourselves by the big waterfall further up the road, and after we spent the night near the walnut trees, we had to stop by their house in the morning and share the pictures. We did. And it was once again a delight to be near such warm and welcoming people.
Our time in Kyrgyzstan will soon be up as we now turn to the north and head toward Kazakhstan, Russia and Mongolia. It will not soon be forgotten.
Thank you for your continued thoughts and prayers.
Be well-
Tyler and Adrianne (aka Tylor and Adreeann)
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
jalal-abad
Asalam aleykum- Peace be with you. Just wanted to let you know all's well. We're riding bikes, it's hot, few computers, no postcards, lots of dairy and melons. Love to all. More details to come.
Monday, June 3, 2013
Hello Friends-
We made it to Bishkek. Our itinerary suggested that we would arrive today at 3:05 in the afternoon. Our plan was to arrive with two bicycles and two duffel bags full of trailers and other gear. Two days later, the vision has become reality.
Our flight from Toronto to Moscow was especially exciting as it was the first Aeroflot connection between the two cities in over forty years. That is why there was so much confusion while we were trying to get our boarding passes. That is also why there were so many beach balls and inflatable airplanes and flowers at the ticketing counter and so many delicious finger foods, fruits, juices, pastries, flags of the two countries, and a podium for representatives to say "we are so glad to be here, and we are so glad you are here". Our plane also arrived at the gate taxi-ing through a double rainbow of water spouting from two fire fighting vehicles. Awesome. And to top it off, the stewardesses were straight out of 1960`s- complete with white gloves and little orange hats.
The arrival in Bishkek was a little less grand. It did involve a rather slight young man holding a sign with one of our names on it, which was nice. It got interesting when we had to strap our bike boxes and a large duffel on the roof. The boxes were the same size as the roof and they were tied on with only an 8 ft. piece of tattered parachute cord. We held onto the boxes with our arms out the window the whole way. We all made it in one piece, and spent the evening wandering around in a dazed stupor.
Thank you for the good thoughts.
Take care
Tyler and Adrianne
We made it to Bishkek. Our itinerary suggested that we would arrive today at 3:05 in the afternoon. Our plan was to arrive with two bicycles and two duffel bags full of trailers and other gear. Two days later, the vision has become reality.
Our flight from Toronto to Moscow was especially exciting as it was the first Aeroflot connection between the two cities in over forty years. That is why there was so much confusion while we were trying to get our boarding passes. That is also why there were so many beach balls and inflatable airplanes and flowers at the ticketing counter and so many delicious finger foods, fruits, juices, pastries, flags of the two countries, and a podium for representatives to say "we are so glad to be here, and we are so glad you are here". Our plane also arrived at the gate taxi-ing through a double rainbow of water spouting from two fire fighting vehicles. Awesome. And to top it off, the stewardesses were straight out of 1960`s- complete with white gloves and little orange hats.
The arrival in Bishkek was a little less grand. It did involve a rather slight young man holding a sign with one of our names on it, which was nice. It got interesting when we had to strap our bike boxes and a large duffel on the roof. The boxes were the same size as the roof and they were tied on with only an 8 ft. piece of tattered parachute cord. We held onto the boxes with our arms out the window the whole way. We all made it in one piece, and spent the evening wandering around in a dazed stupor.
Thank you for the good thoughts.
Take care
Tyler and Adrianne
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)