ok - now it's getting proper hard core!!
Gael warning on the Pamir Highway
- Thread starter simondippenhall
- Start date
Sounds like Gary's hardwired to his inner chimp 
This looks like a fantastic trip and you are providing a great write-up Simon - thank you.
It must be massively frustrating starting out so late, you have more tolerance than I think I would have. Although equally I understand the desire to travel together and although Gary comes across as being rather selfish (anyone else think his grin looks like The Joker?) maybe it’s the price you have to pay to be able to do the route you are on.
Keep safe and enjoy the rest of your trip.
It must be massively frustrating starting out so late, you have more tolerance than I think I would have. Although equally I understand the desire to travel together and although Gary comes across as being rather selfish (anyone else think his grin looks like The Joker?) maybe it’s the price you have to pay to be able to do the route you are on.
Keep safe and enjoy the rest of your trip.
Simply splendid write ups Simon, thanks for sharing and being so candid!
Safe onward travels, please keep sharing so we can keep living vicariously (whilst planning a detailed trip to Tesco or two…!).
Safe onward travels, please keep sharing so we can keep living vicariously (whilst planning a detailed trip to Tesco or two…!).
who needs sleep ? oh yeah , i do
hmm i wonder if gary will ever read this ?
hmm i wonder if gary will ever read this ?
Thanks for all the interest in the wanderings of a couple of OAPs.
Yes we both recognise the value of travelling together (despite our different personalities and outlooks) - whether fixing a puncture or picking up laden dr650s from snow, mud or deep sand or medical emergencies (all of which we have experienced so far!).
Altitude, effort and tiredness all have a bearing on how we experience each other and I am sure there are times when G finds my cautious outlook (
) frustrating.
Anyway, here’s a few more shots of the big day over the ‘impassable mountain’.
The Master works on his bike before tackling the big landslide
Off he goes
Post ride picnic
After leaving Song Kul lake we took a great dirt road which led us over the ‘33 parrots’ pass- so called not due to parrots but for the number of switchback turns as you go down the mountain.
Photos to follow…I was concentrating on the road ahead!
We arrived early in Naryn and sought the best hotel and are having 2 nights of luxury (at a modest price) with an outing planned for today on local trails to the South.
I used the free afternoon to get some chain lube ‘, and found this little shop which had what I needed.
Also the usual statue of ‘big guy/‘liberator’
Clearing out my Magadans pannier pocket i discovered my emergency protein tin of fish had leaked….yeuch!
So after hiding out the pocket (fortunately an external one) I dined on the contents which, with a 3 day old banana I found squished in my backpack () did me nicely for dinner.
And so to bed!
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Yes we both recognise the value of travelling together (despite our different personalities and outlooks) - whether fixing a puncture or picking up laden dr650s from snow, mud or deep sand or medical emergencies (all of which we have experienced so far!).
Altitude, effort and tiredness all have a bearing on how we experience each other and I am sure there are times when G finds my cautious outlook (
) frustrating.
Anyway, here’s a few more shots of the big day over the ‘impassable mountain’.
The Master works on his bike before tackling the big landslide
Off he goes
Post ride picnic
After leaving Song Kul lake we took a great dirt road which led us over the ‘33 parrots’ pass- so called not due to parrots but for the number of switchback turns as you go down the mountain.
Photos to follow…I was concentrating on the road ahead!
We arrived early in Naryn and sought the best hotel and are having 2 nights of luxury (at a modest price) with an outing planned for today on local trails to the South.
I used the free afternoon to get some chain lube ‘, and found this little shop which had what I needed.
Also the usual statue of ‘big guy/‘liberator’
Clearing out my Magadans pannier pocket i discovered my emergency protein tin of fish had leaked….yeuch!
So after hiding out the pocket (fortunately an external one) I dined on the contents which, with a 3 day old banana I found squished in my backpack (
) did me nicely for dinner.And so to bed!
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We had some funny "dinners" in the wilds of Kaz and China.I dined on the contents which, with a 3 day old banana I found squished in my backpack (
Vacuum bags of cooked chicken and cheese were one of my fav's
Today we rode SW from Naryn to visit the ancient caravanserai at Tash Rabat…a really pleasant outing even if our ultimate goal, of finding a trail across to Baetok, was frustrated by an unclear trail and a thunderstorm
We met this young German cyclist en route, headed for Singapore- I liked his bike which had a belt drive and Rohloff hub so he had obviously thought this through!
After looking around the caravanserai, we had tea and bread in a caravan cafe run by this sweetie’s mother
In our search for a trail we roamed some steep high meadows - great fun but no trail evident
.
So we decided to head for the China border leading to Kaxgar….getting within 30 kms before we hit a special permit zone where I met this cheery and helpful bus driver
So we did an about turn and bombed back towards Naryn, getting a good pace on the excellent highway but being battered by rain and alarmed by lightning flashes.
We agreed we would break for tea and some food - I pulled into a benzene station only to find it was out of use.
But…..in place of the pumps were massive clay ovens in which samsa were being cooked….so after I hugged the oven for warmth (to local amusement) we sat down and ate what I regard as the best samsa of this trip (although G gave it equal marks with the one outside Bishkek which I found in a rainstorm ).
The samsa is prepared for decapitation
And here is the delicious result - piping hot and full of flavour, just what a cold and tired adventure pensioner needs
Fellow samsa consumers responded well to our arrival
Yet again, when I mentioned my nationality I got joyous cries of ‘McGregor! McGregor!’. Seems the Tajiks and Kurds are fairly pugilistic and big fans of Conor McGregor and mixed martial arts!
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We met this young German cyclist en route, headed for Singapore- I liked his bike which had a belt drive and Rohloff hub so he had obviously thought this through!
After looking around the caravanserai, we had tea and bread in a caravan cafe run by this sweetie’s mother
In our search for a trail we roamed some steep high meadows - great fun but no trail evident
.
So we decided to head for the China border leading to Kaxgar….getting within 30 kms before we hit a special permit zone where I met this cheery and helpful bus driver
So we did an about turn and bombed back towards Naryn, getting a good pace on the excellent highway but being battered by rain and alarmed by lightning flashes.
We agreed we would break for tea and some food - I pulled into a benzene station only to find it was out of use.
But…..in place of the pumps were massive clay ovens in which samsa were being cooked….so after I hugged the oven for warmth (to local amusement
) we sat down and ate what I regard as the best samsa of this trip (although G gave it equal marks with the one outside Bishkek which I found in a rainstorm ).
The samsa is prepared for decapitation
And here is the delicious result - piping hot and full of flavour, just what a cold and tired adventure pensioner needs
Fellow samsa consumers responded well to our arrival
Yet again, when I mentioned my nationality I got joyous cries of ‘McGregor! McGregor!’. Seems the Tajiks and Kurds are fairly pugilistic and big fans of Conor McGregor and mixed martial arts!
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Last edited:
I don't suppose it would be this young lady (Nazira) running/caretaking Tash Rabat Simon? She was there in 2005 when Sue and myself visited.
Last edited:
Stunning Simon....just stunning. Other words fail me 
I don't suppose it would be this young lady (Nazira) running/caretaking Tash Rabat Simon? She was there in 2005 when Sue and myself visited.
Micky: don’t think so or else she has aged very badly since
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Thanks Simon .... it was nineteen years ago this month!Micky: don’t think so or else she has aged very badly since
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Carry on, ride safe. A great report with stunning photographs
Another excellent day today, the second with a start around 9 am which makes such a difference to the day!.
We took a circuitous route (sorry about lack of focus!) and did about 200 kms of very varied trails from rocky climbs to muddy rutted descents
without issue (other than the cold at altitude and the occasional rain (which became fresh snow on the hills beside us!).
As usual I will let the pictures speak for themselves. After a couple of hours we needed tea and stopped to ask a villager who said: ‘chai - Nyet!’. But we knew how to play this game by now so asked someone 200 metres later who took us to their home and fed us tea, bread and jam and then offered kumis (fermented mare’s milk) - definitely an acquired taste!
Taking a local kid hostage for some photos- his dad loved it!
More boringly spectacular views
Kumis
Our morning tea host
Yawn….more beauty
Once we cleared the varied trails, it was time for a freshly fried fish lunch: two beautiful fish, copious tea and bread and onion….for £1.80 each in the restaurant!
Meanwhile the usual vast flocks of sheep trickled by
After lunch we rejoiced into he tarmac which led us to Kolchor and a hotel which met our joint standards ( we were both rather tired after 240 kms of pretty intense concentration in the cold)
As we unpacked I noticed G had shed a spike in his front wheel….the curse of his Africa Twin (which shed spokes at will across Uzbekistan!) had returned!
Next door was a little supermarket with an old Soviet era car in the cashier area (seemingly normal??)
Also, to my surprise, zero beer…but I conclude I need something with a bit more ooomph - even if it’s still Bud!
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.We took a circuitous route (sorry about lack of focus!) and did about 200 kms of very varied trails from rocky climbs to muddy rutted descents
without issue (other than the cold at altitude and the occasional rain (which became fresh snow on the hills beside us!).As usual I will let the pictures speak for themselves. After a couple of hours we needed tea and stopped to ask a villager who said: ‘chai - Nyet!’. But we knew how to play this game by now so asked someone 200 metres later who took us to their home and fed us tea, bread and jam and then offered kumis (fermented mare’s milk) - definitely an acquired taste!
Taking a local kid hostage for some photos- his dad loved it!
More boringly spectacular views
Kumis
Our morning tea host
Yawn….more beauty
Once we cleared the varied trails, it was time for a freshly fried fish lunch: two beautiful fish, copious tea and bread and onion….for £1.80 each in the restaurant!
Meanwhile the usual vast flocks of sheep trickled by
After lunch we rejoiced into he tarmac which led us to Kolchor and a hotel which met our joint standards ( we were both rather tired after 240 kms of pretty intense concentration in the cold)
As we unpacked I noticed G had shed a spike in his front wheel….the curse of his Africa Twin (which shed spokes at will across Uzbekistan!) had returned!
Next door was a little supermarket with an old Soviet era car in the cashier area (seemingly normal??)
Also, to my surprise, zero beer…but I conclude I need something with a bit more ooomph - even if it’s still Bud!
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So after a pleasant enough night at the Olive Hotel in Koshkor I resolve to rise early and visit the Saturday livestock market - I get there by 0630 when the inspection and haggling is well under way
Note the prolonged handshake whilst terms are negotiated…once the handshake ends then the negotiation is over
Watching is all-important
Very much a male event
The fatty rumps of these local sheep are particularly appreciated in Kyrgyzstan (from a gastronomical perspective!).
Then back to the hotel for breakfast (G says he prefers his bed to such events as a livestock market).
To day is an uneventful and boring ride east to lake Issu Kul through tons of roadwork diversions into dirt tracks.
Fortunately the beauty of Issy Kul and a delightful swim makes up for the tedious earlier ride.
Below one of MANY gorgeous beaches on Issy Kul
Spectacular sunsets and a backdrop of 4,000 metre+ passes (and even higher peaks!) make this a gorgeous place and since this is really before the season starts we see only a few locals on the beach.
So contentedly to bed - G has been hatching plans this evening to ride along the Chinese border ‘because I know people have ridden along here’. I look briefly at a local guide book and end up raining on his parade:
I awake the next morning and as I gather my stuff I hear G in the phone to an official in Bischek (at 0700 on a Sunday morning!!) to see if she can obtain us a permit that day.
It emerges in conversation that the permit needs 4 different departmental stamps of approval so no way can it happen before Monday evening.
But consistent with the spirit of this trip, we decide to set off anyway and see how we get along
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Note the prolonged handshake whilst terms are negotiated…once the handshake ends then the negotiation is over
Watching is all-important
Very much a male event
The fatty rumps of these local sheep are particularly appreciated in Kyrgyzstan (from a gastronomical perspective!).
Then back to the hotel for breakfast (G says he prefers his bed to such events as a livestock market).
To day is an uneventful and boring ride east to lake Issu Kul through tons of roadwork diversions into dirt tracks.
Fortunately the beauty of Issy Kul and a delightful swim makes up for the tedious earlier ride.
Below one of MANY gorgeous beaches on Issy Kul
Spectacular sunsets and a backdrop of 4,000 metre+ passes (and even higher peaks!) make this a gorgeous place and since this is really before the season starts we see only a few locals on the beach.
So contentedly to bed - G has been hatching plans this evening to ride along the Chinese border ‘because I know people have ridden along here’. I look briefly at a local guide book and end up raining on his parade:
I awake the next morning and as I gather my stuff I hear G in the phone to an official in Bischek (at 0700 on a Sunday morning!!) to see if she can obtain us a permit that day.
It emerges in conversation that the permit needs 4 different departmental stamps of approval so no way can it happen before Monday evening.
But consistent with the spirit of this trip, we decide to set off anyway and see how we get along
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From the lakeside beauty of Barskoom we shall ride ever upward over 3-4 passes (highest about 4050 we think) to Kara Say, the last habitation in Kyrgyzstan before the China border
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one hell of a trip,From the lakeside beauty of Barskoom we shall ride ever upward over 3-4 passes (highest about 4050 we think) to Kara Say, the last habitation in Kyrgyzstan before the China border
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Simon,
I thought I'd ridden in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan. Reading your reports I think I will have to revise my opinion. It's clear I just passed through...
I thought I'd ridden in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan. Reading your reports I think I will have to revise my opinion. It's clear I just passed through...
We got away quite early and refuelled in Barskook, delayed only slightly by G mislaying his bike key and then a wadge of money, displaced while he searched for the key.
We climbed steadily on dirt roads (which were well tended as they lead to the massive Kumtor mine. Unfortunately they were also being regularly watered to reduce dust and make them nice and muddy.
At each pass we spied another higher one. My photos cannot convey the vastness and emptiness of the high altitude meadows and prairies . We added layers as we climbed.
Not photographed are the gnarly river crossings and patches of snow and rock as our minds were on other things then!
Today was also the only unpleasant local interaction in a month on the road. I stopped to say hello to a 12/13 year old shepherd boy who promptly tried to grab my iPhone from the Ram mount. When I told him No he then thumped me on the back of the head with a big rock he had in his other hand. Fortunately he hit my helmet and I managed to accelerate clear but it was a shock nonetheless and I think reflected a mentally ill child rather than anything more sinister…especially as all the Kyrg and Tajik people have been so friendly and hospitable, even the uniformed ones (in the main).
Eventually we gat to Kara Say after riding 91 kms up from the lake across vast plains.
As expected there was a barrier and a demand for a ‘probska’ (permit, I imagine) which we were unable to circumvent, despite lots of long conversations. It was clear few tourists passed through here (and indeed it was on the list the bike hire guy gave us if roads ‘not to be ridden - you will be punished mercilessly!’ (His words not mine).
So we sat in the sun and had a companionable lunch (we had brought with us) alongside the solitary young soldier..and then turned around to retrace our steps.
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We climbed steadily on dirt roads (which were well tended as they lead to the massive Kumtor mine. Unfortunately they were also being regularly watered to reduce dust and make them nice and muddy
.At each pass we spied another higher one. My photos cannot convey the vastness and emptiness of the high altitude meadows and prairies . We added layers as we climbed.
Not photographed are the gnarly river crossings and patches of snow and rock as our minds were on other things then!
Today was also the only unpleasant local interaction in a month on the road. I stopped to say hello to a 12/13 year old shepherd boy who promptly tried to grab my iPhone from the Ram mount. When I told him No he then thumped me on the back of the head with a big rock he had in his other hand. Fortunately he hit my helmet and I managed to accelerate clear but it was a shock nonetheless and I think reflected a mentally ill child rather than anything more sinister…especially as all the Kyrg and Tajik people have been so friendly and hospitable, even the uniformed ones (in the main
).Eventually we gat to Kara Say after riding 91 kms up from the lake across vast plains.
As expected there was a barrier and a demand for a ‘probska’ (permit, I imagine) which we were unable to circumvent, despite lots of long conversations. It was clear few tourists passed through here (and indeed it was on the list the bike hire guy gave us if roads ‘not to be ridden - you will be punished mercilessly!’ (His words not mine
).So we sat in the sun and had a companionable lunch (we had brought with us) alongside the solitary young soldier..and then turned around to retrace our steps.
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Vast emptiness everywhere
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