Gael warning on the Pamir Highway

Although the border is closed, the tensions evidently continue (given this was only a week ago) although the people met were relatively relaxed
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So we turned around and the Senior guy indicated we should sit down whilst he continued his harangue on his little Nokia old school mobile- which he had to continue from the highest point in the compound where there was signal.

After a tantalising wait he told us to take our passports to the colleague in the immigration office, who stamped them (which made us feel some progress might be coming ).

He shared some nuts with us, plentiful in Tajikistan. We read this as that he was relaxed and things might come good.

We used the time to check our oil levels and lube our chains but then were twiddling our thumbs.

Eventually Gary walked up to the barracks but was chased away with the explanation that they were now waiting for customs officers to arrive from a functioning border post since this one was closed and un-staffed.

By this time it was past 6 pm but eventually two young customs guys arrived in a SUV. They didn’t even look at our bags but sent us on our way, telling us that they could not give us the documents yet as the system was not functioning but would WhatsApp them to me when printed.

So we were now 112 kilometres from Khujand where we wanted to stay. Everyone said ‘you will get there fast because you have off-road bikes!’ From which we concluded the road must be terrible .

And indeed it was! Sensible people would have stayed somewhere locally so of course we didn’t and ended up riding rough and mud roads until 9 pm when we finally got to the lovely Khujand Grand Hotel in its interesting surroundings
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We got to enjoy a beautiful sunset before night fell and our 1 candle power Suzuki lights left us struggling .
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Decent size room with bike in sight!
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Needless to say, we were both knackered by the long day, with another one (to Dushanbe) on the morrow. I bought a yoghurt, banana and bread for dinner.
 
Gary and I met for breakfast and had a frank talk. The previous night during our ride to Khujand we were stopped at a checkpoint to see our papers. I stopped to ask the officer where there was fuel available on the road. Gary heard me and said “F@&k I am not going out of my way to get petrol” and took off As his Sena had not been properly charged, we had no contact so there was little I could do except count to 10!

Fortunately there was supposedly a station somewhere within range of our tanks which were getting low.

And indeed I found Gary at that station some 20kms away - without local currency but fortunately I had some USD which did the job. I explained to G the next morning why I was checking fuel availability (I did not want to be stranded in the dark with no fuel) and that I did not appreciate his behaviour. He was man enough to apologise.

This done, we set off for the big ride to Dushanbe including the infamous Tunnel of Death.
A decent breakfast and some local bread
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Always good to have supplies
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This donkey was towing a big cart of human manure

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We get hints of the mountains ahead
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And the massive ravines around us
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We go through a long unlit tunnel, with only the feeble motorcycles lights in the dark which are no use! Terrified we emerge but congratulate ourselves on surviving- only to discover this was only the warmup act for the real 5 kms tunnel. In order to avoid total disorientation we follow a car through but G falls back a little and I can hear his dismay on the Sena.
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The real thing! Not to be repeated. We meet this French cyclist who is wisely going to hitch a lift through the tunnel- it would be fatal for a cyclist
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So much better to have a chat than let things fester.

Looks stunning country and not many westerners get there
 
So much better to have a chat than let things fester.

Indeed! And more such discussion would ensue over the next 24 hours, which Gary wanted to be a rest day as he was still suffering effects of his heavy cold.
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I was slightly concerned as I knew Gary was itching to ride the old Pamir Highway, having seen some gnarly off-road videos he had sent me, rather than this the standard route
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so I suggested we needed time discuss this during the rest day so we had an agreed route for our departure.

Over the next day we chatted and met up a guide who advised against the old road, especially in spring when there were many landfalls.

We went to and fro in our discussion; it’s clear that G is a ‘go for it and deal with the consequences’ person whereas I am an ‘assess the risks, build contingency plans’ sort of person. I realised also that I was clinging to the safety blanket of having Marat’s group somewhere behind us on the circuit, should we have a major mechanical we could not solve by ourselves.

(Gary’s mechanical-strewn progress through Kzh and Uzbekistan, where he and his Africa Twin did 1,000 kilometres in the back of a Sprinter van, meant he was more relaxed about securing local help - although that would be scarcer in these remote spots).

I too was bothered by having to run to a demanding schedule to keep ahead of Marat when we ourselves had lots of time to stop and enjoy the environment.

So by the end of the rest day we had agreed we would go on the Old Pamir Highway and suck up the consequences . However I have made 3 conditions to my going with him (what Gary calls Simon’s Ten Commandments ):

“If we go that route the deal is
- we stick together (no impatient riding off)
- ⁠if someone wants to stop for the day then both stop
- ⁠no riding in the dark
You might also want to reflect on those overnight.

Sleep well, see you 0700

I also used the rest day to get local cash from ATMs (challenging with a Mastercard!) and shopping for a warm hat for the high mountains

Typical ATM refusal message- it’s a Visa town (fortunately I also had a Visa card)
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Stocking up on wet wipes and hand spray to defer the supposedly inevitable ‘Pamir belly’

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Decided I was OK for warm socks

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By chance in the old ‘Central Department Store’ I met these two Kazakh bikers we had run into on the road from Khujand…they have a Tiger 859 and another bike and will also follow some of the Pamir Highway but not the gnarly section we are to do.
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Great marketing:

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Now to remember to use it frequently
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Not bad for a fiver and it was all they had that was wool
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As well as its standard dictator capital city massive monuments, Dushanbe had lovely arched garden pathways reflecting the Persian links/ roots of the Tajiks.
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Fred Flintstone lives
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Food on the road will be basic so G decided to store some calories….and the rest of the steak will serve as his dinner the next day.

Other rest day achievements were to get the ignition barrel replaced in G’s 650 as he had been finding it difficult to move - Marat’s crew swung by and did it in 10 minutes, but refused to attach his heated jacket lead to the battery- Nyet. This theme of the weak battery would recur, although Gary was skeptical. (I think his learning style is from experience rather than being told, and I am starting to understand that better ).

So we agree to meet at 07h00 (I have arranged for early breakfast, to G’s chagrin, but to his credit he is up for it.


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Looks like it's a top trip again Simon.

Rather than riding the Pamir highway, if time allows how about going further south into the Waken Valley and along the Panj river? The ride up to the Yamchun fortress and the views across the Hindu Kush from the top are some of my best memories from that area. Khorog is a decent oasis for a rest day too - great curry house IIRC...
 
Looks like it's a top trip again Simon.

Rather than riding the Pamir highway, if time allows how about going further south into the Waken Valley and along the Panj river? The ride up to the Yamchun fortress and the views across the Hindu Kush from the top are some of my best memories from that area. Khorog is a decent oasis for a rest day too - great curry house IIRC...

That’s the plan, Richard. Watch this space


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Looks like it's a top trip again Simon.

Rather than riding the Pamir highway, if time allows how about going further south into the Waken Valley and along the Panj river? The ride up to the Yamchun fortress and the views across the Hindu Kush from the top are some of my best memories from that area. Khorog is a decent oasis for a rest day too - great curry house IIRC...
That’s the plan, Richard. Watch this space


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excellent apart from one thing - you’re making me jealous :D
 
So we leave Dushanbe refreshed and with the old Pamir Highway as our route. We are careful to fill up as we leave town and ensure we have water as we are not expecting to see a lot of people.

Instead a quick pee stop brings some delightful puppy love
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As we gas up this fine fella in a reverse sheepskin jerkin gives us his views, sadly incomprehensible to me
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A bit random but tea is in the culture
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We can see we will have some decent mountains ahead.
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And, for now, the roads are wide and sweeping dirt
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As we pass the town of Naradabad around 2 I realise Gary has dropped behind but at the junction where we have to turn left a policeman waves me down and explains the bridge is down and it’s impossible to cross. He mimes chest high water.

He says we have to return to Dushanbe and try the other route. I sit and wonder where Gary has got to. Eventually I turn back and find him pushing his bike up a hill with the aid of two schoolboys so he can try to jumps start the beast. It seems that he wandered off for a lee which turned into a crap (too much detail I know) and of course flattened the battery.

The bike would not push start so once again we had to remove the saddle from G’s bike and I applied the trusty old power bank which did the job of starting the bike.
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The police man allowed us to go check out the crossing - the bridge definitely was defunct
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It doesn’t show in the photo but that’s a 4 foot drop to the river at least. Work was on hand trying to fix the problem so I went to recce alternatives and found a sporty route down into the river bed but we agreed that we would probably destroy the clutch or drop the bike starting to get out the other side.

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As Gary turned his bike he unfortunately dropped it and us two old guys were struggling to lift it. As we started to remove the heavy luggage , fortunately the Tajik army arrived to help out. Once it was upright I rode G’s bike up the rocky terrain and back to base where we regrouped
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We decided it would be a good few hours before the diggers had established a crossing and as were were zonked after a long ride, we rode back 5 km to the last village and had some snacks and asked if there was anywhere we could stay. All agreed there was nowhere (Nyet is a very effective word!) unless we rode a long way back - which we had no desire to do.

So I suggested to G that we cruise the little town and see what we could see. There were very few houses but I spotted a restaurant and asked if they could house us. Again, Nyet .

I was at my most supplicant and asked again and finally they said we could sleep on the restaurant couches
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Our room for the night
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the view was fabulous

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The toilet was disgusting but beautifully located
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This was great news: we now had some lodging (albeit one which, like all the town, had no running water) and in a place where they could sell us a beer.

The less good news, as we discovered later that night as we struggled to sleep as diners caroused around us, was that this was the local night club/karaoke joint and possibly knocking shop.

So more of a memorable than restful experience for both of us


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So we leave Dushanbe refreshed and with the old Pamir Highway as our route. We are careful to fill up as we leave town and ensure we have water as we are not expecting to see a lot of people.

Instead a quick pee stop brings some delightful puppy love
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As we gas up this fine fella in a reverse sheepskin jerkin gives us his views, sadly incomprehensible to me
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A bit random but tea is in the culture
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We can see we will have some decent mountains ahead.
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And, for now, the roads are wide and sweeping dirt
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As we pass the town of Naradabad around 2 I realise Gary has dropped behind but at the junction where we have to turn left a policeman waves me down and explains the bridge is down and it’s impossible to cross. He mimes chest high water.

He says we have to return to Dushanbe and try the other route. I sit and wonder where Gary has got to. Eventually I turn back and find him pushing his bike up a hill with the aid of two schoolboys so he can try to jumps start the beast. It seems that he wandered off for a lee which turned into a crap (too much detail I know) and of course flattened the battery.

The bike would not push start so once again we had to remove the saddle from G’s bike and I applied the trusty old power bank which did the job of starting the bike.
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The police man allowed us to go check out the crossing - the bridge definitely was defunct
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It doesn’t show in the photo but that’s a 4 foot drop to the river at least. Work was on hand trying to fix the problem so I went to recce alternatives and found a sporty route down into the river bed but we agreed that we would probably destroy the clutch or drop the bike starting to get out the other side.

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As Gary turned his bike he unfortunately dropped it and us two old guys were struggling to lift it. As we started to remove the heavy luggage , fortunately the Tajik army arrived to help out. Once it was upright I rode G’s bike up the rocky terrain and back to base where we regrouped
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We decided it would be a good few hours before the diggers had established a crossing and as were were zonked after a long ride, we rode back 5 km to the last village and had some snacks and asked if there was anywhere we could stay. All agreed there was nowhere (Nyet is a very effective word!) unless we rode a long way back - which we had no desire to do.

So I suggested to G that we cruise the little town and see what we could see. There were very few houses but I spotted a restaurant and asked if they could house us. Again, Nyet .

I was at my most supplicant and asked again and finally they said we could sleep on the restaurant couches
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Our room for the night
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the view was fabulous

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The toilet was disgusting but beautifully located
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This was great news: we now had some lodging (albeit one which, like all the town, had no running water) and in a place where they could sell us a beer.

The less good news, as we discovered later that night as we struggled to sleep as diners caroused around us, was that this was the local night club/karaoke joint and possibly knocking shop.

So more of a memorable than restful experience for both of us


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And that is how the best travel stories are made, involve a possible knocking shop, beer, dropped bike, mad route - you're there
 
When we leave early from our nightclub/lodgings we both crave breakfast to keep us going. I find a little cafe which is cooking its daily load of plov (pilaf) but it needs another hour of cooking so we settle for eggs and sausage and lots of tea.


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Then it’s off to brave the river crossing which is now only nadgery as opposed to yesterday’s impassable condition.

We settle into our stride and really enjoy the fabulous scenery and limited traffic.



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I shoot by a phalanx of villagers standing motionless before a coffin - by the time I turn around they are loading it on a truck so we decided to keep ahead of that melee.

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Horses are a big thing up here and this horseman is very confident
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There is occasional congestion- this must have been a thousand sheep so after the photo I quickly shot around to the right to off road past them
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Then we met our next obstacle…another fallen bridge and a very fast running river.

We debated walking the bikes across but After walking it a couple of times I felt it was rideable and took off, crossing without difficulty.

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We had an audience of locals who were keen to watch but not to offer any assistance

Then on we went, conscious we still had a long run to Kalaikhum this day and with iOverlander showing another challenging crossing a couple of hours later. In the meantime we revel in the fabulous views.
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We have seen no foreign travellers these 2 days but we meet a local guy on a Honda 200 who leads us to a diversion to avoid the impassable broken bridge. However this diversion is also very challenging with a strong river flowing through a meadow.

Fortunately this local guy runs towards and, shedding his shoes, helps G keep upright while he rides across the river . Tough feet or what??

He then holds my rack in support whilst I ride over, very helpful given the stony river bed

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As we climb up a series of narrow switchbacks, we meet three Spaniards in an SUV who are trying to find the diversion as the main track is closed . We direct them but I would dearly love to know how that big vehicle got on.

With the water crossings behind us (we hoped!) we now faced a major climb to over 10,000 feet. There was little to no traffic so we enjoyed swinging the dr650s around the curves
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I came across a selection of shells at the summit
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The two ends of the small town of Kalaikhum where we bagged very comfortable lodging in the best hotel, to make up for last night’s sleep deprivation.

Mosque and:
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Triumphant entry arch (confusingly, it’s also called Darvos
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We are ready for our rest but conscious we have diverged from the route Marat the rental guy wanted us to take. We have already had one ‘where are you?’ message from him which we ignore but then Gary gets a major missive (or rather, missile) from Marat which I shall share tomorrow
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Sorry for duplicate or missing photos but sketchy internet here


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Marat’s unhappy missive:

“Hi guys! Hope you are well.
Gary, what's the matter? Firstly, you had to go along our route through Kulyab.
Secondly, you should have ridden several days ahead of me.
You are breaking these agreements.
I think you were a man of your word! I hope this doesn't happen again. Tomorrow we leave Kalaikhumb at 8.00 am. Please make sure that I do not meet you on the way so that you leave Tajikistan within the timeframe established with me. As we agreed. This means that you must leave Kalaikhumba no later than 6 am. And also go from Khorog directly to Murghab. I hope you won't let me down this time.
Have a good trip”

We chose not to reply whilst we reflected (my defence is ready: “the big Yank made me do it@ ).

We think he may have trackers on the bikes which is why he supposed we didn’t follow the ‘tourist route’ but chose adventure.

Let’s see what happens. As we are not yet at Kalaikhum we will not be leaving at 06h00! Neither of us fancies being on a schedule anyway.


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What a shame you were given wrong directions and river advice and finished up off his chosen route!

At least you're doing you're best to get back on track :augie

Great opportunity though to get off the main routes
 
Simon - best hotel in Kalaikhum? Karon Palace? Stayed there in 2019 :thumby:

Khorog - excellent place. Great curry house - Delhi Darbar

Murghab - like a scene from Mad Max but best fuel “station” ever. The bods can create any measured quantity imaginable from their tank using just three jugs and an old coke bottle :D
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