Until Friday, April 18th 2014, I am making a newly published eBook available for free! It’s an electronic version of “Life on the Tibetan Plateau”. This e-version has an added bonus of the text that was printed in the Brooks Bugle.
You can download from here: Life on the Tibetan Plateau
Also, last week a collection of 139 Uyghur photographs were published into an eBook as well. You can download by visiting: Uyghur
14 year old Uyghur girl in Awat…self-taught.
…dinner was being prepared in Kashgar.
Must Read:
As of January 2012, you must get your Passport Exit Stamp approximately 160 km East of the China border. The city is called “Wuqia” and you must go through the Exit/Entry Station. This is for cyclists crossing FROM China to Kyrgyzstan.
If you arrive at the border without your Exit stamp, there is NO alternative but to return the 160km. The roads have been reported as patchy but I would report that they are some of the worst road conditions I have experienced. This was late winter/early spring with snow, morning ice, mud, iced mud, and roads being flooded out because of the melt. They are currently “working” on a new highway. When I say “working” it means everything has been torn up and some patches completed but I didn’t see ONE PERSON working on it during the week out there.
Wonderful camping opportunities, safe, and sparse population…and hundreds of wild camels.
Please pass this information along to others and repost on as many sites as possible.
The crossing is also closed on the weekends and there is very little to purchase in regards to supplies at the border. I suggest that you stock up on 7 days worth of supplies in Wuqia. This should get you to Sary-Tash Kyrgyzstan if the weather is GOOD. If the weather is bad, the Tajik truck drivers coming from Sary-Tash will give you breads, cookies, cans of tuna, or whatever they have in their truck. You won’t starve…but BE PREPARED.
No photos.
Short day.
Snow.
Slipping on ice, more awesome 180 dances on the ice.
Same shit, different day.
This place was a bitch to find a place to stay.
The first place, before going, I saw some local jump on the roof of the awning and climb into the window of the second floor. Okay…not there….
Second place next to the bus station, no response.
Third place, 130rmb! Bullcrap.
Fourth place, spankin’ clean new room with even a water kettle. Safe place for the bike and gear on the first floor. Under a 100 over 50…whatever.
No police visits. Good rest…actually, super good rest.
I woke up to a quite cold and dimly lit room. Still, complete silence except for the faint sound of ice cracking in the trees in the back.
Without getting out of bed to look out the window, I can make a weather assessment. Being raised in the Blue Ridge/Appalachia Mountains, I can already tell what it’s like outside by the light coming through the window and the silence with the faint “crack”.
I pack up, eat the remainder of the bread, and drink the last bit of hot water (“kai shui”) in my instant sugar coffee. Again, it’s great staying in places like this because it’s super fast and easy to pack up in the am.
I vow to not take anymore photos with my point and shoot (quit being lazy) unless they are snapshots of me suffering in the elements or I have no option because of situation (i.e. police). Only for video, from now on, Jan 20, 2011.
It’s going to be a very white and cold ride today.
As I exit the building, I see Mario and Luigi taking care of the daily chores. Cow feeding and milking. Yep, I think Mario and Luigi may be a couple. This, I find, AWESOME. They get extra thanks and smiles from me…world love, dudes.
It’s about 10 am’ish. It’s foggy – frozen fog. Not too bad with a few kilometer visibility ahead. Once I get going, I’ll warm up and it won’t be too much of a problem.
10:42 am
The trees all have silver icicles on the tips of their limbs. I am doing okay at this point and enjoy passing the lone cowboy on his horse and my eyes dashing around the landscape. There still seems to be a bit of an incline, or my eyes are just giving me that “false” appearance. (I hate it when I have a false flat and barely pushing 15km, way to make me feel like a baby.)
Little girl’s potty break, although I didn’t use the structure for privacy. I nearly didn’t make it off the saddle in time. (Nothing like wet cycling shorts and an additional odor to add the lovely potpourri I wear around). You can gawk at this if you want, but any one that rides, especially women…one second off the saddle and that’s when it hits with full force.
When there is no traffic, I really just take care of business anywhere. Ladies, don’t be shy when nature calls. Tuck the head down and keep your face from traffic to keep the attention off of the fact that you aren’t “physically” a man. I really have lost any sense of shame. What happened? I guess, you just quit giving a damn and morphed into a true womanimal.
12:30, losing visibility. It only gets worse and worse from this moment on.
Boys get ice beards girls get ice braids. (How fitting for the nickname I picked up years ago, “Ice Princess”)
The balaclava got used after this, and I’m not posting a photo of that because I look like a monster.
I eventually end the day on about 3 meter visibility. Turning on my red blinky because of the fear of getting taken out by a car.
It’s an early day to Mori.
I finally have my gear loaded on my bike so if I take the back rack bag off, I can carry the bike fully loaded up stairs. Yes, I’m a g.d. beast. Well, beastly skills up 3 EXTREMELY LONG and narrow flight of stairs, nearly breaks my neck. I regained my balance before taking an awesome tumble down steps with bike in hands. (Mental note: save beast skills for at least a meter wide staircase, without white sheets covering the carpet, and a larger landings…and just not so many.) Christ! Laziness and short cuts are going to be the death of me. There was a naughty influence with me this summer and some bad habits have stuck.
(The beastly womanimal needs some sleep as I had a delightful 4 hours last night. Jan. 23, 2011)
As soon as there was rustling about and the room was lit with sunlight, little sister and I went out back to the “cesuo” (toilet). I hate this type of morning, when my sides ache from the pain of holding my bladder. It feels as if it gets all blocked and takes a few minutes for my body to realize it’s time…to relax.
I can’t help but gazing towards the mountains during these few minutes. It’s cold and I can see the peaks of the little mountains. Damn, if it wasn’t so cold, and I was a little more insane, I’d ride my bike up there to take a look. Disappointed, as I imagine what that range looks like in the Spring – probably a fairly easy day ride with a nice camp. Not now, on December first.
Little sister and her husband wash up for the morning. Afterwards I’m led back over to her in laws for tea and hard breads. As she and I get ready, I get a couple of “how much did that cost?” Please, please…lets not play that game. It’s such a typical Chinese thing and I don’t find it among the minorities so much…please, don’t do this.
Her brother in-law is asleep in the corner. Three additional Kazakh men enter to join us for breakfast. They are quite nice and we go through all the basic questions and comments again. I still can’t get over how adorable her father in law is. Just adorable…in his thick army green pants.
The bread chunks are hard and you have to let them soak in the tea. The tea is different here. They add a yogurt to the milk tea. So there are little chunks of yogurt floating on top of the tea. Watching little sister, I see her scoop up the yogurt with the hard bread. I mimic, delicious.
We all head out, as it’s time for the family chores to be taken care of. Her husband heads out on his motorcycle, father is moving the sheep out of the stable, and mother begins her milking duties.
There is a litter of puppies behind the house. I can’t get over how adorable they are, with their snorting and crying. It’s hard for me not to ask if I can buy one. It’s too cold and they are too young…just would be cruel.
I spend some more time with little sister and I get a few more “how much did that cost?” questions. Okay. I can’t do this anymore.
She asks me if I’m going to stay another day and I just get a strange vibe that maybe I should go on. I know I’m welcome to stay but decide to tell her I will leave and see how she reacts. “No, I really should get going, it’s getting late.”
Not receiving a response that I sometimes get when people REALLY don’t want me to leave. I pack up and set out around 12am. With one final “how much did your bike cost?” Please, little sister…don’t do this to me……..
I give her a hug good-bye and push off. The mama dog decides NOW she wants to attack me. Hearing the barking getting louder I stop in my tracks and see her running towards me. Little sister runs to hold her back.
A wave from the tarmac and I’m off. Within a kilometer I pass her husband on his motorcycle, after putting the sheep to pasture, and I wave goodbye. Good-bye Mr. Handsome!
It’s a long day of riding up. Cold. Very little traffic.
I see the first sign of life around 3 in the afternoon. It consists of a tire fixing place and a restaurant.
Pulling the bike up to the restaurant, removing my sunglasses, and sliding my hat off, I make eye contact with the little toddler in the doorway. I say “Hello!” in my cute child voice for her. She smiles and goes in.
Two older Kazakhs walk out and they are very friendly looking at me and the bike. Harmless, wonderful, people.
I enter into a very old room with a small table and 4 chairs. The cooking area takes up half the space. There is a room to the right that has about 8 Kazakhs and children around a large table. The t.v. is on and some are sitting on the old iron framed bed.
The color palette of the place is browns, reds, dark yellows, and greens. Just a very dark place but I feel warm and the people seem welcoming.
I have a hard time communicating with the woman that’s cooking. I order fried noodles. The folks in the other room ask where I’m from. “I’m American”.
“Ohhhhh, American!” With smiles, nods, and just a feeling of acceptance.
The toddler and I are playing hide and go see around the table and other general child games of looking at each other.
A young man enters and takes a large tray of beef into the small room. When I say “tray of beef”..I mean…it’s basically broiled/roasted whole cow with the skin and organs removed. It actually looks and smells quite delicious.
About 5 minutes later he brings a big chunk out, about 12mm x 12 mm, sets it on a clean plate and drops it in front of me. He smiles, “Chi!”
The cook turns around and smiles while handing me a knife. Well, I guess I just go at it. I’ve had some training in Inner Mongolia and I try not to destroy such a beautiful hunk of beef.
As I cut into the meat, the juices drip down my hands and steam rising from the fresh cut. It may be one of the most delicious meals I’ve had.
My noodles are served with chunks of beef and hot green peppers.
I try to converse with the woman but there is a language barrier. She tells me that the road is mostly flat to the next city. I know to never really believe this stuff completely.
The place is warm and the people are kind. I take a deep breath and relax for a moment. Then filling up my water, I say thank you and head on my way.
From the km count she gave me, I will not be making it to the city unless it’s all downhill.
It’s not. I have a pretty damn good mountain pass to get over. Is it the cold? These climbs just drain me, not like when the weather is fair. I think about how this would of been nothing 4 months ago…but maybe the weather really does drain someone more than you would imagine. I push Nelly the last kilometer.
I’m holding the top of the pass for the remainder of the day…once again, as usual, racing for light.
I don’t know why I do this. Sometimes I think I should just set up camp in the snow but there is a part of me that just says, “keep going keep going, you’ll find something”. At the top of a pass, a nice 20rmb room sure does sound nice.
There is a truck stop on the side of the road. The only “zhusu” has all the windows broken out. I avoid staying where there are truckers like that anyhow. I take a little road down a hill towards a village. No luck. Power back up the hill, past a police station, see 2 officers taking a stroll and I pull clothing over my face. Less trouble.
The pass is a good 15km and I’m not really enjoying it. “Keep the eyes on the prize keep the eyes on the prize keep the eyes on the prize”
Towards sunset I begin the descent. I hate descents in the winter and at sunset. It’s just so damn cold, although the sky is always the most beautiful. I’m trying to get to somewhere warm, take photos, and just not freeze. It’s quite a balancing act.
I’m freezing, it’s near dark and there is no traffic. Luckily, this helps me hold onto my night vision.
With about 10 minutes left of residual light, I spot a hand painted sign with something about “zhusu” and “1.5km”. Oh hell yes!
I pick up the pace and I see a restaurant with “zhusu” attached to it. It’s tucked into a wooded area with only an outhouse and some cows.
Of course they see me and greet me at the door.
“30rmb!? Really? Well, I guess I don’t have an option. Okay.”
We roll my bike into the room and they reassure me it will be warm, safe, no other company…and the sheets are clean. Okay.
In the restaurant, I order a couple of dishes. As I’m sitting there and I notice that these two men are not typical Chinese men. They remind me of 2 people, with their mustaches. Oh, it’s Mario and Luigi! of the Super Mario Bros. fame.
They don’t have rice so I’m given some breads. Cold bread. I only eat one but they insist that I take all the breads, “a gift”, for breakfast. I’m beginning to think that these men have a relationship – they are not brothers.
Sure, not going to turn down free breads.
Back to my room, it’s dark, I have only one candle to last me the night.
I curl up on top of one blanket and cover with 2. It’s silent. For the past couple of nights, all I hear is silence. I love it. The light begins to flicker, as the the flame extinguishes I can hear the sizzle.
Goodnight.
