Day 8: Kashgar to Sary-Tash (w/NESW by Bike) – April 1 2012

Okay, so here I go, recounting the worse April Fool’s Day joke yet. And, the second most fearful time of my life. (The first being a pretty bad car wreck, where I saw my life flash before my eyes…before being thrown into the backseat headrest from the front passenger seat.)

I shove my head outside around 8am and exclaim to the tent next to me, “Oh my god, this may be the most beautiful sunrise ever!” I race out of my tent with my camera and tell the boys to chill for a little while, I’m working.

View from my tent at around 8am:

Campsite, around 8:30am:

Other images won’t be posted here, sorry. Also, no more large res images loaded – too much download activity on this site.

When I put on my frozen socks and take a walk outside. My boots are so stiff from the water freezing in the soles. This is going to be an awesome day!

The boys push off about 15 minutes before me. We can see the pass winding up the hill, black speckles (the trucks) coming down the pass.

We are estimating about 15km to the pass.

The wind begins to kick up. The sun is bright, beautiful clouds to our West.

There is a new hand signal from the drivers today. They continually make a throat cutting gesture from behind the driver’s wheel. What, death? Do you mean “death” as you slice your throat?! Okay, whatever, lets move on.

The roads are getting worse and worse. The wind picking up. Big clouds moving through the sky.

10:43 AM

11:31 AM

We sit on the side of the road before ice wall’s so the traffic can pass. Then we hustle the best we can over the ice to get to a clearing.

11:45 AM

I distinctly remember this driver. He was expressing to Matt about the skies and the road ahead and urging us to go faster. He did the same thing to me and pushed my bike past his truck. He showed a genuine concern for us and kept pointing at the clouds looming ahead.


To the right of the truck, you can see the pass leading up the hill. We have about 10km left.

We’ve been dealing with ice wall’s for awhile now. Today is the worse day. Traffic is stopped and we try to help one another throw our bikes up onto the snow…digging in the best we can. We stick close together, one will throw their bike in and then run to assist – usually me. Again, my bike weighs considerably more.

This is an example of the ice wall. Again, continually getting truck drivers cutting their throats at us.

Around noon, we are still on the 8 and half incline up the pass and the trucks are passing through the single lane. Lucas is well ahead and it’s just Matt and I.

I pull my bike out of the snow, as it’s about a half meter up the ice wall from the previous truck. I had climbed the wall and Matt had shoved the bike on top of me. I had snow in my boots and mittens but I was a safe distance from the truck.

Not 5 minutes later there is another truck coming towards us. Matt runs up with his bike and throws it up in the snow. I don’t have time. I press bike against the ice wall and then me.

Matt: “Are you sure you want to be there?”
Me: “It’s ok, I haven’t got a choice.”

The next place would of been exactly where I had been.

I make eye contact with the driver, at nearly eye level. I’m watching the tail end of the truck. It’s coming closer and closer and closer AND CLOSER…I’m in between the bike and the truck. The truck is a couple centimeters from my handlebars and bags and I envision myself getting pulled in with the bike under the wheel well….

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The second loudest scream on tour as I envision my bowels being cut open by the truck. Or the bike being clipped and pulling me into the wheels, with me in between.

Lesson Learned: When a riding partner doubts your decision in life or death moments…DOUBT YOUR DECISION.

12:41

We take a break after the death ice wall, Matt shares the story with Lucas and the decision has been made to have lunch at the top of the pass…about 3km away.

12:46

It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

1:00 PM

Something strange is beginning to happen. You can see the ice begin to fly from behind me. I had jumped over an ice wall to block the wind and get out of the way.

I begin to bundle up but then realize my zipper is broken on my jacket and my mittens are shoved with snow. Ducking into the ice wall, Matt comes back and tells me we have to get going…there’s a storm coming in.

Within seconds it’s a complete white out. The pass is about a kilometer away. I’m slipping in strength and I look back at Matt, “Just go on without me, I can’t keep up” as I’m blinded by blowing snow and ice. “Don’t be stupid, Ellen”, was stated very calmly and with a bit of love and concern.

We make it to the peak, a little over 3700m high, in the midst of a storm. Pressing our bodies against an ice wall, we have no idea what we should do. We are all silent. Waiting, freezing…knowing this is really bad.

A car comes by, after a couple of minutes arranging prices, they say they will take us to Sary-Tash for 100USD. No one has USD on them so we convince them to take 100 Euros. Little do they know they are getting more money out of it.

1:54 PM:
Bikes loaded.

As we were preparing to get in the car, I brushed my hand against my face. Something felt very weird. I touched my face again…what’s going on with my skin? (Later in the car, the boys would tell me my face was frozen and it was the scariest thing they had seen in their lives. My skin was beginning to turn blue, according to them. Ever since this day, I go by the nickname, “Ice Face”. Tough…eh?)

We load into the tiny car and as the seat in front is lowered, I can feel pressure on my frozen toe. We all begin screaming to get the passenger up. I didn’t nearly lose my toe from the storm, but by an old car seat being lowered onto it.

They begin towards Sary-Tash. There are a few trucks pulled over and everyone waving around the “X” symbol. The road is closed. We can’t continue. They tell us we have to go back to the town on the border.

SHIT! 3 DAYS AND WE ARE GOING BACK TO WHERE WE STARTED. No choice. No option.

As the car turns around and we head back, the driver points to the left. Lucas and I gasp as there is a frozen horse upside down, hooves mid air – in the midst of a run. What is going on?

The blizzard lasts for close to 2 hours, complete white out. The passenger will get out to help the car around. Sometimes both getting out to help oncoming traffic get through.

We have all moved our boots and socks. I’m repeatedly told I’m going to have to have my toes cut off. The boys shove theirs in their sleeping bags and mine are shoved in my hat…heels exposed.

It’s a tight fit in the car, and I’m sitting in the middle. I can see the gas gauge, nearly empty.

The driver is miming to us that we may have to sleep in the car. Every time both of them leave, the 3 of us are trying to figure out if it means we are sleeping there for the night.

I start my prayers of “oh mani padme hum”…the sky begins to break…I see sunshine…….I shove my head out the window with the loudest “Hallelujah” you’d ever hear.

The storm is over after nearly 2 hours. It takes us 6 hours to make it to their home. Where will be fed and cared for.

This will be an unforgettable April Fool’s Day, uniting the brothers of North East South West by Bike and the Wander Cyclist for ever.

April 2nd,
The driver will give us a ride to Sary-Tash. Where from there, we are able to hire a van to Osh. We are exhausted…we are on time lines…we nearly died – and me twice.

The daughter of the driver is attached to me. She loves having her photo taken and even struts as if she is on a catwalk at one point. She’s darling and also really wants my ring. I let her play with my eyeglasses instead. She stayed by my side during most of the visit and during our breaks on the car ride.

My mom recently asked me, “What were you thinking before the car picked you up?”

Honestly, I don’t know…nor do I remember. I just know I was really concerned about my soaking wet, cold feet. The boys and I did a tally on how many toes and fingers would of been lost if we hadn’t been picked up. We are pretty sure there would of been at least 3 lost – probably all mine.

I love you Matt and Lucas. Really.

Day 7: Kashgar to Sary-Tash (w/NESW by Bike) – March 31 2012

What the hell can I say?

Morning camp, Matt eating breakfast.

Beautiful view, of course.


The road you see above, that’s frozen ice with the track marks cut through. Cold water will run through the tracks, soaking our feet, and then everything re freezing.

The day started off well, along with the first 5 km or so…then it’s just worse and worse.

Because I travel solo, my load and gear weighs considerable more than the boys. We traded off our bikes every now and again to split up the power consumption. Chivalry IS NOT DEAD!

We do try and make the best of the situation.

But we are losing patience and beginning to grow extremely tired.

Truck drivers are continually giving us hand signs of “X” but also pulling over and giving us food. If they hadn’t given us an extra supply of food…we would of starved.

We got cookies, chocolates, breads, and even a can of tuna. We sat on the snow and stuffed our little bellies the best we could.

One truck offers to give us a lift, but everything would have to be placed on top of the truck cab. The trucks are all locked because of the border control.

We are absolutely beat. Absolutely exhausted. I think we may have made a whopping 30km today…and I…look absolutely shameful. Not many women, especially me, would share something like this online, on their blog…but sometimes…when I man demands to help you, you just accept. My load is probably close to 20kg heavier. Also, the size, height of handlebars, and set up makes my bike very difficult to push. The brothers hate my bike…I still love her. She’s just a real c*$t to push up iced roads.

Now, to make up for this, I have been cooking for the boys. My stove works better and as they rest in their tent after this hard, cold, and wet day…I get to work boiling water for food (my food, to get rid of my weight) and water to drink.

(I’ve been meeting a lot of mid 20 something fellas…and the nickname “Auntie” has been sticking well. I guess it’s better than a “crazy cat lady”…but I’m still quite fond of “Ice Face”. That’s the story from the next day, April 1st.)

After dinner I snuggle into my tent and have 5 pairs of soaking wet socks hanging from my tent.

What have we gotten ourselves into?!

Day 7: Kashgar to Sary-Tash (w/NESW by Bike) – March 31 2012

What the hell can I say?

Morning camp, Matt eating breakfast.

Beautiful view, of course.


The road you see above, that’s frozen ice with the track marks cut through. Cold water will run through the tracks, soaking our feet, and then everything re freezing.

The day started off well, along with the first 5 km or so…then it’s just worse and worse.

Because I travel solo, my load and gear weighs considerable more than the boys. We traded off our bikes every now and again to split up the power consumption. Chivalry IS NOT DEAD!

We do try and make the best of the situation.

But we are losing patience and beginning to grow extremely tired.

Truck drivers are continually giving us hand signs of “X” but also pulling over and giving us food. If they hadn’t given us an extra supply of food…we would of starved.

We got cookies, chocolates, breads, and even a can of tuna. We sat on the snow and stuffed our little bellies the best we could.

One truck offers to give us a lift, but everything would have to be placed on top of the truck cab. The trucks are all locked because of the border control.

We are absolutely beat. Absolutely exhausted. I think we may have made a whopping 30km today…and I…look absolutely shameful. Not many women, especially me, would share something like this online, on their blog…but sometimes…when I man demands to help you, you just accept. My load is probably close to 20kg heavier. Also, the size, height of handlebars, and set up makes my bike very difficult to push. The brothers hate my bike…I still love her. She’s just a real c*$t to push up iced roads.

Now, to make up for this, I have been cooking for the boys. My stove works better and as they rest in their tent after this hard, cold, and wet day…I get to work boiling water for food (my food, to get rid of my weight) and water to drink.

(I’ve been meeting a lot of mid 20 something fellas…and the nickname “Auntie” has been sticking well. I guess it’s better than a “crazy cat lady”…but I’m still quite fond of “Ice Face”. That’s the story from the next day, April 1st.)

After dinner I snuggle into my tent and have 5 pairs of soaking wet socks hanging from my tent.

What have we gotten ourselves into?!

Day 6: Kashgar to Sary-Tash (w/NESW by Bike) – March 30 2012

March 30 2012

We get to the Exit Entry Bureau, I receive my passport and the boys get their stamps, a day before expiration.

It’s around 9:30 and we won’t be on the road until close to noon. Why? Let me share the story…

So, we have our stuff and we are ready to go. They wave us on and say something along of the lines of “go ride”. (Did you just hear the needle skip across the record too?)

No. This is not what is going to happen today. We begin discussing it through broken English and they tell us there are no empty trucks. Okay, I’ve lost my shit once before in China with authorities…it’s about to be my second.

In retrospect, it kind of weirded out the boys…and I DO NOT SUGGEST YOU DO THIS unless you’ve lived in China long enough to know the games. People always scream at each here, there is no shame…husband to wife, local to official…whatever. I know there is ALWAYS something that can be done.

I raise my voice, borderline shouting…okay, maybe I was shouting…in Chinese. Explaining how the guy up the mountains said we could get a ride back and now we are stuck. We didn’t know the rules, as they are new…blah blah blah…and then I storm out of the Bureau and let some tears roll down my face. A crying foreign girl usually helps the matter too.

The offer one bike to be put on the back of an unhitched big rig. No way in hell.

After 3 hours we finally paid a pick up truck to get us there. The officials even helped us get his price down. He wanted close to $150 USD but we got him a little under a $100. Those officials were trying their best to help us…and not to get ripped off.

Thank you Chinese officials…and foreigners…be careful when shouting at them. It’s a fine line and you really need to know what you are doing.

While loading the bikes in the back of the pick up truck, which is much safer than a truck…Lucas shows me something horrifying. His top tube had been against something in the truck and had been shaved away. As a member of the “Church of Steel”…I gasp looking at the aluminum shaved down. I drop the F bomb…dear god. It’s bad.

We are on the road by noon…we are racing the clock.

The roads are clear, considering we are ahead of all the trucks. The roads are still somewhat flooded and nearly a half dozen times all the passengers give a “Yae!!!” or “Whooo!” after successfully making the crossings. My jaw hurt from gritting so hard and the stress.

We make it to the border in about 4 hours. This is amazing. It was worth every penny.

I see my flirtatious buddy from the day before, but he’s not really as friendly as the previous day.

Riding through the border, I hit my 19,000th km. Of course this is an under approximation as my previous computer broke. I’m excited…this is my first ride over a border crossing. Exciting! There are a few border/passport checks and 7km later we are in Kyrgyzstan!

Black market exchange rate sucks.
Everything is muddy and slushy. It’s bleak. Trucks pulled over everywhere. Trailers spotted on the hillsides, selling SIM cards and food. We see a lot of snow ahead. A lot.

It’s going to be a short day of riding, with only a few hours left. We go on.

At Nura, about 3km from the border, all…let me say again…ALL the trucks are putting chains on their tires. They keep giving us hand signals of an “X” and pointing up to the pass. The tarmac still looks pretty damn good, and dry, and we just assume they don’t realize that we know what we are doing.

Ha! (Take note because we will be back in Nura in 3 days).

Within just a few kilometers this is our road conditions.

We are going up a mountain and I lose site of the boys around the corners. At a straight away, the traffic has been backed up. No traffic can pass. But what worries me is the boys are on the side of the road, bikes thrown over the ice walls, talking to locals. I see them looking at the bikes. Shit, what’s happened.

I push up and Lucas’ front left pannier had been ripped off by a passing truck. The truck did not stop. It’s just the clips that have been ripped. The brain child I am…I give them zip ties later to make the repairs and share the knowledge with them that these pieces can be ordered off the Ortlieb site. Yeah…German engineering.

We make it up the first tiny mountain and decide to call it the day. The sun is setting and we just want to set up camp. I boil up the water for noodles and the day is done, in Kyrgyzstan. With only one shitty thing happening today.

Day 4: Kashgar to Sary-Tash with NESWbyBike (arrive to the China/Kyrgyz border)

March 28th 2012 – PLEASE NOTE THE DATE AND THESE POSTS ARE OF THE PAST.

Good Morning!

The day starts off well. Matt is feeling better and the roads are still paved, for a little while. The weather gets pretty damn warm during the day too.

We stop for lunch on the side of a little river. I, “Auntie”, cooks for the group. That’s the woman’s job, right? After eating we have a delightful visitor.

In just a few kilometers we will lose tarmac…this will be just the very (easy) beginning to a horrific ending.

Traffic

Later in the day, the ice melt causes all the roads to become mud. Thick, slushy mud. We are either pushing our bikes through 4cm of mud or slipping on snow and ice. As the sun begins to set, we know we are going to have everything freezing back on us.

The descent into the border town. Roads here are in exceptional condition. The boys bikes are caked with mud, mine not so. Thank you Soma Saga…I love you.

We make it to the border right before sunset. Kyrgyzstan! Tomorrow…or so we think…

The border town is shit. There is no where to buy supplies. We all decided to go to bed after finding some naan to eat. Nothing wrong with a little hunger, knowing we are out of China tomorrow…again, or so we think.

Sleep well, as the room is flooded with the smell of wet socks and boots. Damn it Lucas…I wish you had done laundry…Bangkok to Bishkek without a single piece laundered. You stink!

*If you enjoy reading and looking at my photos, I hope you’ll take a moment to view my Kickstarter campaign. If you can’t pledge, I understand…perhaps just spread the word. I, and all the people I photograph and speak with, thank you.

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Irkeshtam Pass

3 cyclists are nearly killed by a blizzard at the summit of the Irkeshtam pass in Kyrgyzstan.

15 minutes before the storm, and 15 minutes after I was nearly pinned against a 2 meter ice wall by a cargo truck.

I’ll post the entire story later and photos.

What would YOU do at the “Center of Asia”?

I made yellow snow…well, not on the center…about a meter away. When nature calls…and well, there is an opportunity to say, “I pee’d at the Center of Asia!” – how can you resist?!

Both cameras are non-functioning in the cold. I was able to warm up the Nikon D700 to get a couple of shots and the point and shoot wouldn’t let me use the timer. Every time I would turn it off, and then back on, it would be reset.

Couldn’t help but think of my artist pal, Stephen Talasnik.

It was a ride down (then a climb) to the “Center” and even saw a frozen tear on my eyelash. No, I wasn’t that moved by where I was going…the wind was being mean to me.

I’ve been riding UP for the past two days, along the 216.
Yesterday was rough, I realized how out of shape I was.

Today, well…um.

So, after visiting the Center of Asia I continue South and I know I need to cut off to get off this route. There is no way I’m going to live through a 4000m pass in the middle of February. I am pretty sure I would freeze to death. My cameras can’t even handle this cold.

I got in close to 60km today and a hearty lunch and I’m looking desperately for the turn off. Something is very strange. There should be signs but I see nothing.

After a couple of baby climbs today, and then watching a crazy ass looking dog run a kilometer down the mountain to come eat my face off, I pulled over to the police checkpoint.

I gave in. The sun was setting an my options were bleak. I saw nothing ahead…except one or two dump trucks with coal. Not even locals.

“Excuse me, I need to find some accommodation tonight. Ahead or behind and how many kilometers.”

“Ahead, you can’t go, the road is very very bad. It’s not safe. You should go back.”

“How many km behind.”

“40”

Quick math…shit, that’s taking me back where I slept LAST NIGHT!

I can’t freeze to death…I don’t know if I could make it through the night.

“Okay, thank you.” Now, if I wasn’t freezing I would of gone on and said screw it…but this is my life I’m talking about.

As I begin to turn around.

“If you wait a moment, you can put your bike in the back of the pickup truck and we can give you a ride.”

Oh hell yes!

The bike gets thrown over some frozen vomit and I pile in with an officer and his two adorable children. Something is different about their appearance. The boy has brown hair. His name is Jerry and he is 6…Alice is 10. Their English pronunciation is fantastic and Jerry starts chatting in English from the beginning. Dad is giving Alice a speech in Chinese about how she needs to practice and she says she can’t and he repeats, very gently and even loving…”yes, you can do it yourself…you can.”

It turns out he is Hazu (Kazakh minority) and his wife, their mother, is Russian! Beautiful children.

We pass the road I should of taken to cut over and he tells me the road is bad. Still mountains and the roads are not paved. These are the roads I LOVE when the weather is warm and the locals spend their free time sitting about.

In winter…no one is around, no one to ask for directions, no one to sit with and have a picnic with. Right now, my mission is to get out of this cold. Especially when my camera is malfunctioning.

He gets me to last nights town and he offers to take me back to Urumqi…as the other route is “fangbian”.

It takes me 2 minutes to “cut my loss” and I say, “okay, lets go!”

So, here I am, on the Southern tip of Urumqi…where I’ve lived for the past 2 months.

I’ve been thinking all day if I should just cut my losses and turn back and do it. From the maps, it was showing no towns of any kind. Little villages along the way but not even restaurants.

I HATE backtracking…it’s probably my #1 of stuff I DON’T DO. But…I guess, we can say it takes more guts to cut my losses and realize I could die if I were to continue on that insane road up and over the Tianshan mountains.

Shepherd. He was looking at me strangely so I flash my big ol’smile and give him a nice American “Hello”. He returns the smile and “Hello” from his amazing 5 o’clock shadow.

I thought boys on bikes made me weak in the knees…Uyghur cowboys are a whole other story. I’ve told some people I can’t buy my naan from handsome men because I blush too much. Yeah, I need to get a hold on that one.

This is where I should of turned off to head East…this was across the road.

And, see, I told you “zhusu” walls are the best. This was next to my head. I’m trying to figure out if it’s homegrown porn and then what’s the deal with the foot print like 1 meter from the ground? Click on the photo for a larger image.

Maybe they were stomping the Hepatitis out!

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