That's right, 2992km. Just arrived in Oskamen, or Ust-Kamenogorsk, depending on which map you look at, and if it uses the Kazakh names or Soviet names. On the approach to the city, the houses somehow started looking different. They are small wooden houses with steep pitched roofs and shutters of varying colors. There are still potatoes growing in the yard and cows roaming about, but it just looks very different than the earth and mud houses we have been seeing throughout the rest of our trip. It definitely feels much more Russian.
Ok- so that posting failed because all six of the staff at the internet cafe had to go on break for half an hour and none of them could give us more time on the computer. Really.
Now, we are in Shaminaikha, a town only 23 km from the Russian border! Foreigners are not allowed to use this crossing though, so we have to go down the road another 150 km or so to enter at a different border point. It feels pretty wild that we are about to enter a new country, and even more incredible that a whole month has gone by and we are now half way through our trip! Kazakhstan has gone by even faster than Kyrgyzstan.
Similarly to Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan has sort of divided itself in two parts, in terms of our trip. Steppe/desert and taiga/rainforest. Since writing from the "apple people's" house, we got into a stretch of country that is "The Vast and Endless Steppe". On the map this area had a bunch of funny little symbols, that I now realize mean desert! A Czech couple had warned us about this area of "nothing". No people, no water, not even a tree for shade. I have walked and biked across a few stretches of desert, and we were sort of girding up for some harsh conditions. Perhaps because of this, it wasn't that bad. It did look vast and endless, with far away hills shimmering in the distance, hovering above the horizon, and only the train rumbling by to separate time and space.
We got ourselves into a program of waking up at five, so we could bike when it was still cool, and carrying four gallons of water at a time. There did end up being a few shrubs to hide under for shade, and there were enough towns or random cafes to get water at, that it was tolerable. I adopted a new mantra during this stretch, 'tailwinds', only focusing on what I want.
This was the program up until the town of Georgievka, which we reached ten days ago. From that day until today, there have been thunderstorms and it has poured rain, at least once a day. It has gotten greener, lusher, and more Russian feeling the farther north we go. We are now in the land of mushrooms and strawberries! There are people everywhere harvesting these coveted items. More than once, while setting up the tent by the side of some field, a rough looking man has wandered through the woods by the tent. At first it was a bit unnerving. Are these the drunks people warned us about?
The rain has put us on its program. Sleep later if it pours first thing in the morning, take a long lunch and hide until it stops, make camp before it storms again. So, this morning when we awoke to red skies, I took warning. The rain held off long enough to pack up, but then it kept on till noon, when we reached town and a gazebo to eat our lunch under. I think we fit right in at the park, amongst the kids driving mini-cars around the playground with blaring music, and the girls learning to rollerblade.
This town is pretty much blessed in my book. It is always the towns you expect nothing in that are the best. Our bikes got a shower, we got a hot shower, and the kind manager of the hotel is letting us use her computer.
I like to think that by biking we are making everyone happy. When they see us out their car windows in the pouring rain they think, 'at least that's not me'.
Hope you are all feeling blessed as well. Peace out, Adrianne and Tyler
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Sir, They Are As Dumb As We Thought
While riding past a firing range for large armored vehicles, we spotted a fine campsite, but we decided to keep pedaling. The hunt for good camping occupies a large part of our time, from examining maps looking for rivers, to scanning horizons searching for clumps of trees far enough from the road to discourage curious folks from visiting our campsite in the middle of the night.
Here in Kazakhstan, finding a good spot is easier in some ways and more challenging in others than it was in Kyrgyzstan. There are fewer people here, and a whole lot more space. But much of that space is peopleless for good reason, as it is also free of flowing water or trees. It was the presence of a few trees that made the firing range spot so desirable. It was fun to imagine some Kazakh soldiers discovering a journal filled with a string of very bizarre Russian words. "Today, gas station woman give melon and chocolate and almonds. She very nice. We very tired. We smile big." Here is the evidence, sir. The tourists are absolute morons.
The little bit of Russian we do know is proving very useful and is leading to some amazing interactions here in Kazakhstan. Almost every day, we have been given gifts by the very kind folks who live here. After they get a handle on their disbelief that we are from the US and that we are riding our bikes to Mongolia, we are presented with treasures.
Just the other day, we were making a pretty standard resupply stop in Taldikorghan, a small city in eastern Kazakhstan. The plan was to purchase; bread, cheese, almonds, meat stick, cucumbers, snacks and a few other treats to fill up our food bags. By the time we were following the very friendly man on the motor scooter guiding us out of the city in our mini parade, we had been given pounds of treats; 1 plastic comb, 3 cans of beef and barley, 2 cans of mackerel, 2 cans of sprats, 1 pound of raisins, 1 pound of dried apricots, 1 package of wafer treats, 1 large box of assorted cookies, 2 green t-shirts, and 1 five ruble note from 1909.
We are having a pretty wonderful time, and look forward to telling the stories in person.
This post is being written from the home of some very friendly folks who were selling apples on the side of the road. We did not have a chance to buy any apples before we had been invited in for tea, and dinner and showers and a place to spend the night. Amazing.
Thank you for the continued good thoughts and prayers. They are working.
Take care-
Tyler and Adrianne
Here in Kazakhstan, finding a good spot is easier in some ways and more challenging in others than it was in Kyrgyzstan. There are fewer people here, and a whole lot more space. But much of that space is peopleless for good reason, as it is also free of flowing water or trees. It was the presence of a few trees that made the firing range spot so desirable. It was fun to imagine some Kazakh soldiers discovering a journal filled with a string of very bizarre Russian words. "Today, gas station woman give melon and chocolate and almonds. She very nice. We very tired. We smile big." Here is the evidence, sir. The tourists are absolute morons.
The little bit of Russian we do know is proving very useful and is leading to some amazing interactions here in Kazakhstan. Almost every day, we have been given gifts by the very kind folks who live here. After they get a handle on their disbelief that we are from the US and that we are riding our bikes to Mongolia, we are presented with treasures.
Just the other day, we were making a pretty standard resupply stop in Taldikorghan, a small city in eastern Kazakhstan. The plan was to purchase; bread, cheese, almonds, meat stick, cucumbers, snacks and a few other treats to fill up our food bags. By the time we were following the very friendly man on the motor scooter guiding us out of the city in our mini parade, we had been given pounds of treats; 1 plastic comb, 3 cans of beef and barley, 2 cans of mackerel, 2 cans of sprats, 1 pound of raisins, 1 pound of dried apricots, 1 package of wafer treats, 1 large box of assorted cookies, 2 green t-shirts, and 1 five ruble note from 1909.
We are having a pretty wonderful time, and look forward to telling the stories in person.
This post is being written from the home of some very friendly folks who were selling apples on the side of the road. We did not have a chance to buy any apples before we had been invited in for tea, and dinner and showers and a place to spend the night. Amazing.
Thank you for the continued good thoughts and prayers. They are working.
Take care-
Tyler and Adrianne
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Stop, Please Stop
"Akyuda!"
All throughout Kyrgyzstan, whenever we were spotted by the locals, this question often preceded hello. It made little difference whether we were spotted by folks in the same tiny store, or by people on very distant hillsides. "Where are you from?" is the question everyone was asking. Sometimes we would hear the question shouted by people from impossible distances. We have grown quite accustomed to yelling back to unknown interrogators, "Amyerika!"
It was therefore quite startling to be riding along a smooth Kazakh road in the middle of a very hot day and hear a small voice from the other side implore in English, "Stop. Please, Stop."
What else could we possibly do, the voice had said, "please". We stopped, and the young man who had made the request made his way across the narrow highway. In what way is this person hoping we can help him? We were wondering if he needed medical attention or help moving something, but it was not quite like that.
"I have a lake. It is very hot. You are cycling. Would you like to swim? Please come swim."
What else could we possibly do, he had said, "please", and also at that precise moment, there really was nothing that we would rather have been doing, than swimming in his lake. He might as well have descended on a cloud, But we are pretty sure he wasn't an angel, because angels could probably understand our funny accents. "I am sorry, your American accent is very difficult to understand. Could you please speak with a British accent?" We were making things difficult for him by saying things like, "thirdy four", instead of "thirtea four".
After we had sufficiently cooled ourselves in the lake, he asked, "What else can I do for you?"
We thanked him, and continued on our way to Almaty.
That has pretty much been the way of things with people in Kazakhstan. Machines are a different story for another time.
Be well-
Tyler and Adrianne
All throughout Kyrgyzstan, whenever we were spotted by the locals, this question often preceded hello. It made little difference whether we were spotted by folks in the same tiny store, or by people on very distant hillsides. "Where are you from?" is the question everyone was asking. Sometimes we would hear the question shouted by people from impossible distances. We have grown quite accustomed to yelling back to unknown interrogators, "Amyerika!"
It was therefore quite startling to be riding along a smooth Kazakh road in the middle of a very hot day and hear a small voice from the other side implore in English, "Stop. Please, Stop."
What else could we possibly do, the voice had said, "please". We stopped, and the young man who had made the request made his way across the narrow highway. In what way is this person hoping we can help him? We were wondering if he needed medical attention or help moving something, but it was not quite like that.
"I have a lake. It is very hot. You are cycling. Would you like to swim? Please come swim."
What else could we possibly do, he had said, "please", and also at that precise moment, there really was nothing that we would rather have been doing, than swimming in his lake. He might as well have descended on a cloud, But we are pretty sure he wasn't an angel, because angels could probably understand our funny accents. "I am sorry, your American accent is very difficult to understand. Could you please speak with a British accent?" We were making things difficult for him by saying things like, "thirdy four", instead of "thirtea four".
After we had sufficiently cooled ourselves in the lake, he asked, "What else can I do for you?"
We thanked him, and continued on our way to Almaty.
That has pretty much been the way of things with people in Kazakhstan. Machines are a different story for another time.
Be well-
Tyler and Adrianne
Friday, June 28, 2013
Sabaka in Shangri-la
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
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
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)