Kazakhstan May 12 2012

I ride through a “town” in the late afternoon and take notice of the local wells. As I walk towards a pump, I ask a woman for some water. She takes my bottle in and fill it up. Riding further on, past all the buses, the trucks, and the truck drivers washing up from the well water…I stop to fill all my bottles up.
By the looks of the trucks and buses, I have a feeling this may be the last stop for awhile. I debate on eating but decide to continue on.

As I ride out of the truck stop, a big rig pulls over and the driver is filming me riding. He is smiling, waving, and encouraging me to continue riding past him. I do as the director says and he passes me later with a friendly honk.

An abandoned “kofe” on the outskirts of the truck stop…the only life I saw were donkeys hiding in the shade.

Within a few kilometers, I find myself in the Steppe. The headwind picks up just a little, but not too bad yet. But the lack of life…is…well…stunning. I’m beginning to question if I’m headed into a desert…AGAIN! As you know, I notoriously have problems with desert dwellers.

As I begin the final climb up onto the Steppe, it’s getting warm and I’m hungry. I think I can continue on without a bite to eat but I finally give in to resting in a bus stop and cooking some pasta. The wind has picked up and there is a small village about 3 kilometers away.

As I begin to set up my stove a car pulls up. There is a Russian driver and a Kazakh man in the back seat. The passenger stays in the car and we make small talk through the window. After the basics, he offers me a cigarette. No thanks. Then gum. He really wants me to have the gum.

He knows I’m preparing to cook something and the next thing that comes out the window is 1000 dollar note. Whoa!? Really? He’s very, very insistent I take it. I actually didn’t know how much it was until after he left because it was folded up and I just put it in my pocket. After 3 days in Kazakhstan, I have more money than I started with.

Then I’m offered his cell phone to call my mother in the US. I tell him she’s sleeping but thanks so much for the offer. He seems harmless enough, and his driver is pretty jovial. We continue to chit chat for a little longer then he goes on his way.

I have another visitor a little later and he’s just making sure I’m okay. He returns about 15 minutes later with an ice cold 1L Pepsi. He tells me that there is a “magazine” in town where I can get something to eat. I can’t be bothered. The Pepsi had been opened, with a sip. I try not to think about germs and enjoy my Pepsi with my hot pot of pasta.

The full stomach and wonderful kindness of strangers motivates me to continue up and over onto the Steppe. It’s still a little hot and the sun is beating down.

As I’m nearly up there, I see a truck driver give me a hand signal of a “snake”…a WW motion. Shit, I know exactly what this means…up and down up and down. And with a headwind, it means I’ll be putting in work even going down.

Near sunset I make it onto the Steppe. I’m in awe of how far I can see…am I seeing the curvature of the Earth?

I begin to hunt for camp and there is nothing to hide me from the road. I’m not really fearful of truck drivers as I have gotten encouragement from all of them. More smiles, thumbs up, and waves than China! These guys are fairly harmless.

I push off about 500 meters from the road and I am beginning to notice the mosquitos. My lazy self makes an attempt to sleep without the tent. After about an hour and near dark, I jump up choosing a few words to come out of my mouth and throw the tent up. Christ, the mosquitoes! …And it will only get worse.

This photo shows a curvature in the opposite direction because of lens distortion…and I’m limited with photo editing software right now.

Kazakhstan May 11 2012

One thing I love about Central Asia is the Soviet art work, found on the town signs and bus stops.

In retrospect, this little strip of restaurants, “kofe”s, and “magazines” will be the second to last stop before heading into the Steppe. Everyone is so friendly and waving to me. The wind is still strong and I can hear the aluminum roofs creaking and cracking. This family is very insistent on having my company, waving me over and inviting me for tea, naan, and “cmetana”. I can only stay for a short time as I have to try and make up time from the day before. After about a half an hour I say my thanks, show my gratitude, and move on.

I get back into a nice green area, little traffic, and the trees block the wind so it’s no problem.

1st flat, repair

2nd flat. . A wonderful babushka comes over to chat me up. She’s wonderful and I explain my problem. A shepherd comes over later and observes me, a nice fella.
Upon closer inspection I see I’ve blown out my first tire of tour. I was able to put about 12,000km on this tire, which is pretty damn good in my opinion. I’m wondering if the blizzard helped destroy it. I patch it with some duct tape, hoping it will work.
3rd flat, and I’m on the edge of the Steppe. I take shade and take care of the matter. I chuck the tube and the tire and put on my MTB 2.1 knobbies that I know will kill some of my progress. Trying not to think too much about and reassuring myself I can find a new one in Almaty.

Self-portrait after tire repair.

I pull off the road to make camp. No tent as the weather is great. I hear a shepherd whistling and a dog, so I stay still and hope they pass without seeing me. I begin to notice mosquitoes in the area, and it’s not too bad by wrapping myself up in my silk bag liner. “zzzZZzzz” “zzzZzzz” next to my ears.

Welcome to Ka Zak Kuh Stan May 10 2012

I’m writing this from a guesthouse in Samarkand, Uzbekistan. After having breakfast with 1 backpacker, 2 motorbike riders, and 2 other cyclists…we all used similar words to describe this country noted for it’s “hospitality”. Things like, “over-rated”, “disappointed”, “a waste of time”, “not worth it”. We aren’t really sure why everyone goes into Kazakhstan with hopes, and leaves shaking their heads. All cyclists and motorbike riders note on the friendliness of the Russians, which was so true for me as well…but for the “amazing hospitality of Kazakhs”…I didn’t find it so much nor have many other travelers. Okay, maybe I’m over exaggerating…I did have a lot of nice things happen when I’m on the side of the road and general friendliness…but NOTHING compared to Uzbekistan or other places I’ve traveled.

Who is in charge of this propaganda? As a solo woman, I would advise any other woman to be extremely, EXTREMELY cautious in this country. The Kazakhs will shit talk the Russians but I received nothing but friendliness and generosity from these minorities throughout the country. I always knew if I had problems, to just wave down a Russian truck driver or bus driver.

Granted…I did have some really great moments in Kazakhstan…and did meet a fair share of wonderful people.

Okay, so onto the first part of Kazakhstan, Bishkek to Balhash (to the North along the great Kazakh Steppe).

May 10
I leave Bishkek on the 10th and head for the border. I’ve decided to ride for a couple weeks as my generous host in Almaty is on vacation and thought to kill some time before heading to the city. It’s only about 15km to the border and the crossing is not a real problem at all. In retrospect, a breeze compared to Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan.
There is a Finnish family driving across, they work at the Embassy in Almaty. They even offer me a ride.

In my, “I’m tired of this shit” way, I am swarmed by truck drivers at the booth for my stamp and I give attitude to the a-hole that cuts in front of me. If you had found me 4 years ago in China, I would have been standing there for 5 hours letting people push ahead…but I don’t put up with that shit any longer.

The other drivers here my tone and English and insist I’m next. The basic questions come along…although not about children or husband. Just, “Where did I come from?” , “How many kilometers?” ,“Where am I going?”

As I begin to leave the station, I even get pats on the backs and signs/words of encouragement. I’m thinking, “Kazakhstan is going to be great.”

I’m not ripped off exchanging money either.

It’s not too hot and there seems to be a breeze. Within a few kilometers after passing the border I’m in flat countryside and I can see some mountain ranges in the far distance.
As soon as I begin to ride West I am hit with one of the worst side winds ever. I am reminded of the time in Inner Mongolia when I was riding with Jason. To test the force of the wind, he pee’d with his back to the wind and the stream must have nearly reached the other side of the road. This wind may even be worse. I can’t ride because it’s gusts and I’m being blown out into traffic. I get off to attempt to walk it and I can barely keep the bike upright and close to being blown over.

I’m beat so quickly and I pull over along some trees to see if I can wait it out.

A station wagon pulls over with one driver and no passengers. He offers to put the bike in the back, or something like that. No, I wave him off politely.

The car comes back about 10 minutes later with a passenger. The passenger exits and comes over to me and squats next to me.
Basic questions, name, husband, baby, country…

The wind is blowing strong and he is telling me that I have to be careful with the trees. Then he is saying something about his home. Okay? Am I being invited for a homestay? Then I catch him winking at the driver during this conversation. No, this isn’t going to work and I’m put on guard immediately. I may not understand the language but I understand men, I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday.
Then I have him wrapping his arms around me as if I’m cold from the wind, and it’s not concern…it’s just a basic sex pest that has some effed idea of me because I’m a white, Western/American woman, without a man around.

I push him off.

More winking to the driver and some stuff I don’t understand. I express over and over, now with impatience, that I don’t understand Russian and to speak English.

Then I have him shoving his hands up the back of my shirt. That’s enough. I push him off and get up. He continues speaking Russian and I continue with “I don’t understand, English!” Well, he manages to get some English out with screaming, “Sex Sex Sex!!!” at me.

It’s time to get out of there. There are no cordial goodbyes, he just gets in the car laughing with his buddy and they drive off to the town ahead.

I only make about 35km in Kazakhstan before I call it the day and decide to find a place to sleep. It will be impossible to set up my tent in this wind and I know the wind generally gets worse later in the day. So, I sleep in here.

There is a beautiful sunset as I can see the mountain ranges to the South. The unfortunate part about sleeping under the road is that there is a late wake-up call from the sun and I don’t realize that the next morning that the wind isn’t so bad because now I’m in a wind tunnel. On the road around 9:30, the view from my tunnel.

I’m Sorry, I May Have Lied…to myself.

Upon the turnback in Tibet and reaching my mileage goal (Which is a funny story. I thought I had told everyone it was 15,000 miles, so there was no celebration but more feelings of defeat) I was pretty set on resting the bike and getting a backpack for Xinjiang and the K’stans…because, well, winter is upon us.

If you don’t know anything about Xinjiang, it has 2 seasons…summer and winter. It’s famous for it’s wind and sand storms, i.e. blowing a train car of the tracks and I heard a story of a British cyclist being killed in a wind storm taking the Southern Route of the Silk Road (NW Qinghai) in no mans land.

Well, I have 2 weeks until I set off. In the meantime I’m getting a TB and Hep test…as I’m still physically not up to par. They recommend people that hangout with homeless people get tested. I WAS living on dirt floors with nomads. Also, TB kills a lot of people in Asia and Africa. I had a lot of Tibetans coughing near me, on me, snotty nosed kids sneezing and their mucous getting on me, or mixing my tsampa with their bare hands. (They also don’t use toilet paper)

Also, I’m having new wheels built, my repaired Brooks saddle is on it’s way from England, and…I bought replacement handlebars. The Soma Sparrow 560mm.

The idea of hitchhiking around Xinjiang is exciting because it’s different and the idea of walking around without worries of my bike getting stolen OR broken…is great. BUT, the idea of being in an automobile passing by nomads and locals…tears my heart apart. Also, I don’t have my get-away ride anymore and it’s a little more difficult to go meandering through open’ness or getting up mountains. The photos people love, and I love, are taken from when I was solo and invited in with people. Being in a car, bus…that’s not going to happen…or maybe it will?

I’ll be monitoring the weather conditions every day and there is a storm coming in, maybe I just stay put. Whether on bike or foot. My Work Visa doesn’t expire until Jan 28th, so in all reality…I could spend winter in Xinjiang, head into Kyrgyzstan (Jan 27th) and be in Kazakhstan in early March (that’s close enough to Spring to not freeze, right?).

I’m hoping someone out there, in cyber world, can offer some advice or wisdom…or an answer will come to me from the heavens.

In the meantime, I hope you take a look at the photographs for sale…I really really need some winter gear. Or you could mail me your old stuff.

Godspeed.

Ever since…

…Mongolia I have been wrestling with myself.  (Mongolians like to wrestle too).

A half a kilometer before crossing from China to Mongolia, it had been difficult.  One thing after the next.  It seemed THAT NOTHING went the way it was suppose to.  I know you should prepare for incidents like this…but seriously, never in my life had there been days after days of everything just down right sucking!

(I would have more photos but since that camera was stolen I’m missing some stuff).

We tried to ride North from Zamyn Udd but the road disappeared – literally.  I had been warned to NOT FOLLOW jeep/motorcycle tracks as they can lead you nowhere, or your death.  After attempting to talk to two truck drivers (from big Russian-wheelers), one woman, and a young girl in a pink silk dress – we asked them about the roads and he just pointed towards Zamyn Udd spreading his arms back and forth horizontally. (I understood this as saying the roads are everywhere).

This is where we tried to hitch hike.

Looking South towards China:

Looking North towards Ulan Bator (where we wanted to go):

This little girl was spending the afternoon before the Sand/Wind storm blew in throwing rocks at a horse.

We met some great people.  Thank god this little fellow could speak Mandarin and Mongolian.  We may actually owe our lives to him.

They make ’em stronger in the North.

We did finally make it to Ulan Bator, which was a complete fiasco and nightmare.  And where I killed my  budget getting back to China.

After a couple of days of finding maps, talking with people, weighing the pros and cons.  We did set out on a very cold and windy morning.  We passed truck after truck coming from the West, loaded sky high with dog? pelts.

It was so windy, barely making it at 8km/hour.  I was extremely sluggish (I ended up getting really sick that night).  It was gorgeous but I was freezing, slow, and just feeling really dogged.  Jason rode ahead of me but returned when he noticed I was not near.

We stood on the side of the road and watched a storm roll in.  Storms on the plains are amazing…this isn’t an uncommon experience.  You can see it in the distance and time it for duck and cover.  You can also get an idea how long it’s going to last.  This is where I sat, looking out, and made the decision to head back to China.  And this is the exact place where my dreams fell apart.  Take a note of the road conditions…um, I mean jeep tracks.

I’ve longed for Mongolia for years now.   There is something about the stories, the photos, everything…that has drawn me to this land.  Well, needless to say, it gave me a really good ass kicking.  Jason built his bike frame so I was also concerned about his bike holding up, along with his 25kg limit aluminum racks.  Do I regret turning back, probably not…but I regret trying to go North West when I would be face to face with wind.  And I’m talking about a wind you probably have NEVER experienced.

I think of Mongolia AT LEAST once a day and it’s usually when I’m lying in bed recounting my rotations and playing the “what if” game.

So, I threw out the idea to my pen pal, Ed, of the Torugart Pass from China into Kyrgyzstan.  I’m playing with the idea of just heading out of China and pass through the K’stans to get back into the North West side of Mongolia.  I could at least have a hell of a tailwind to Ulan Bator.  Can I handle eating all the boiled lamb…probably not.  But I think I could handle the non existent roads, and it will be a hell of a lot easier to hitch hike as a solo cyclist.  I just can’t be defeated and maybe I’ll get to see Lake Baikal after all.

One of my ideas was to catch a train in China to get to Lhasa.  But yeah, sounds like a super touristy place.  If you know me in the bit least…you know I go in the opposite direction of tourists.   So, what would I do once I get to Lhasa?  Go to India…then where?  I’m kind of getting stopped in those tracks…so it’s to the K-stans.  From there…I don’t know.  That Russia Visa is a pain in my butt!!!!  I may have some guanxi to use for this.

So now I’m thinking of doing a circuit into Ulan Bator or heck…just go to Europe.

Please stay tuned as I’ll be back on the saddle in about 2 months.  Just got my Visa renewed for another year…that’s the most important thing right now.

I would love to hear from you!