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.

Fellas, some general rules when you meet that babe on a bike.

I feel that most of these rules can also be applied to daily life, on and off tour. Also, ladies, you can apply a lot of these rules to your own actions. Thank you.

First, approach with chivalry, a stoked attitude, smile, a beard of any type, and offer a beverage or snack. (A babe will NEVER think lesser of you for kindness.)

– Do not bitch about how she can not ride as hard or fast as you. Do not complain about having to wait up for her. If you have a problem, offer to take some of the weight in exchange for volume. Honestly, if someone offered to take my weight, I would probably say, “no”…but we’ll see how I handle that in any future situations.

– We are still women/ladies even though we may live like a beastly animal and be a babe. Please remember this and treat said babe as you would your sister or mother. We still have feelings.

– Approach the flat repair with care. If the babe is having a “bad day” she may snap if you offer help bc she may feel you are doubting her babe ability. If sheis having a good day, perhaps offer to change the flat but if she is a real babe, she can do it herself and as quickly. Depending on the situation. This is tricky…perhaps only offer help if the babe is getting frustrated and you can approach the situation without insulting her. Such as feeding a baby bear…

– Do not expect the babe to do the cooking and clean-up…you will get bitch slapped.

– Privacy for the daily “activities” is always appreciated. No PEEKING!

– When chillin’ in the hot springs/lakes/rivers…keep your eyes to yourself and behave. A little curiosity is okay, but don’t let the babe catch you. Don’t kid yourself and think the babe isn’t thinking about sneaking a peek.

– When we use our lady appeal to get situations taken care, freebies, or just takin’ care of business…please give us some thanks. Realize that we may feel like a cheap prostitute using our babe powers to get what we want. We will, in return, thank you when you whore yourself out as well.

– When said negotiating is taking place and the babe is responsible because of language skills DO NOT throw tantrums on the side line about the price. First, you will embarrass yourself and just frustrate the working lady. We have too much to deal with and we don’t need you over there behaving like a 7 year old. If we wanted to travel with kids, we would.

– Do not expect the babe to work her babe skills for negotiating/etc just b/c she is the babe. Although, if she is awesome, she will take up the challenge without a second thought. Both should know their skills and when to use them in the appropriate situation.

– NEVER EVER EVER…AND I REPEAT…NEVER…CAN I SAY THIS AGAIN…NEVER EVER doubt our map reading or navigational skills. You will see hell. (Ladies DO NOT LET ME DOWN…if you plan on riding…please rep us well.)

– When the babe tells locals that that you are married, for safety issues and just because it’s easier…please do not tell them you are not, later on while pointing in said babe’s direction giving a disgusted look and waving your hands around. (Locals do questions why a “couple” have separate tents. Now, I’m not sure what my reason was for that but I told them something. I experimented with all different situations of who we were, husband/wife or brother/sister seems to work the best.)

– If the babe has the language skills and is pulling your weight, do not give her shit in a restaurant or bus station when her reading skills are limited. How about this, for anyone, man or woman…show a little gratitude and thanks when someone is doing the best they can to take care of the team. This goes around for bike touring and life…again, don’t be a selfish jerk.

– Do not flirt with the local women so obviously (and borderline vulgar) in front of your partner. That makes her look like dog shit to most locals – it’s just down right insulting. Sure, we understand you have desires and wandering eyes…but just don’t do it so blatantly next to the lady. How about this, just be a damn gentleman to the local woman…that will take care of this point all together. Don’t be a douchey perv.

– Please await our arrival up the pass…and not to sell babe power short, the babe will await your arrival too!

– It is okay to spend the day riding alone, please don’t be hurt if we want some alone time. Check your cell phone for texts.

– Grow a beard.

– When you arrive to the 3rmb “shower place” – do not be an asshole because she took 20 minutes. (Alert: We are still ladies and enjoy a hot 50 cent shower every now and again.)

– Again, don’t be a jerk.

– We are women, there are things we physically can not do. Do not be an ass about it. (Women, get some muscles.)

– Again, DO NOT EVER, EVER…AGAIN…NEVER DOUBT her babe skills. (Ladies, do not ever emasculate a man on the road.)

– Granted, some of us babes are not the best mechanics. It’s much appreciated when you sit with us and guide us through hub maintenance and spoke repair. Do not just throw a tool in our hand and say, “do it”! and walk away. Seriously, wanna turn on a lady…help her with mechanics. Talk her through it and it’s a great time to show off your manly skills. Again, greatly appreciated.

– When setting up camp, aka squatting in parks or cities, take turns doing the beer run. Should be a 50/50 endeavor. Hey, actually, everything should be a 50/50 endeavor…anytime, anywhere.

– Compliment the babe’s bike. It means the world to her, as your’s does to you. If she offers you to give it a ride…you have made it to “buddy” level. Don’t be snarky about anything about her bike…ladies, be sure you return the compliments.

– Try to offer good conversation. It is also nice if you listen every now and again. Camp conversation revolving around you can get boring at times. Yeah, while we are on that one…be a good listener. In general…when it comes to discussing route/etc. Please do not be a “know it all”.

– Bottom line: Don’t be a douche, don’t doubt skills, do not expect the partner to take on more than 50% of responsibility…this goes for BOTH riders!

And ladies…don’t EVER expect a man to take on more than his responsibility. Don’t be a twat and be well prepared. Do not expect extra muscle power from him, do not expect for him to take on duties because he is a man. Do not whine, do not bitch, do not nag (he probably is running away from that shit at home) and keep your crying to a minimum…and hopefully somewhere private. In all reality, the crying is just because you need some private/deflation time. Men, do not joke the lady if you see her crying – again – you must realize we are different creatures.

Also, ladies, be sure to help the dude not use his beard as Tupperware. Don’t be afraid to offer help for picking knots and the beginning of dreads out of your male partner’s hair. It will probably be appreciated. Just be a lady, it’s as simple as that.

Comments are greatly appreciated, especially rules for babes meeting that dude on a bike.

A lesson I allowed myself to learn (the first of many)

Don’t be scared to ask for help and graciously accept when assistance is offered.

(Unless the “helper” is a Mongolian rascal that lives in Hulun Buir and drives a motorcycle with a blue fuzzy seat cover with the Beijing Olmpic’s icons on it and has a ring finger with gout.)

I don’t know what happened or how I developed an awful habit of not asking for help.  Maybe I thought it was a sign of weakness or a true character flaw if you couldn’t use resources to figure it for yourself.  There are some people that truly do think this – I have met a couple.  These are the same type of people that don’t seem to try anything new either – maybe for fear of failing because they refuse to ask for a helping hand.

When I first began planning this trip, May of 2009, I thought I could use all the books and maps and resources possible to get concrete answers and just move along my way.  Sure, maybe I’ll have to ask for help on my ride, but heck, I can figure this out…right?  WRONG!!!

Within a week or so I had sent out dozens and dozens of emails.  Hey! – you cyclists that think I have it “easy” because I have gear sponsorship – think again….hundreds of emails…HUNDREDS!…many go unanswered.

It’s not the most awesome feeling to ask for financial or additional support.  Especially coming from a Western culture where money is not discussed.  Here, in good ol’China – people just come right out with it.  No taboo or qualm about it at all.

In my very VERY early 30’s – I have this idea that I shouldn’t have to ask for financial help from friends and strangers…shouldn’t I be self sufficient.  Well, if we want to play the “be normal” game…shouldn’t I be married, own a home, and be on to my second child.  Yeah, don’t even let me meander down that road…………………..

When I first started along, I was a little shy about asking.  That shyness broke real fast!  I was traveling along the Grand Canal taking roads that weren’t even 2 meters wide and I’d be lucky to even see a bicycle pass.  I just followed the compass in one direction until I hit a populated area.  Stopping to check a compass became too time consuming so I just began to read direction by the sun – or by the which side of my calves were burning from the late afternoon sun.  (For some reason, the giant blue work trucks will throw the compass off if you are too close.  You can watch the needle swing like a pendulum as the trucks drive past too).

Rolling up into a small town or village, some will run right up to you and ask where you are going.  And in China – EVERYONE likes to give their opinion and advice.  Within in seconds people are pointing and debating which way.  Often times looking at my map and telling me what I already know.  How difficult can it be to ask for help in a country where nearly everyone WANTS to help you.

It’s kinda AWESOME and really helped teach me that it’s okay.  It’s really okay to say, “Wo milu. wo yao qu ….” 我迷路。我要去。。。

(Traveling in China…DO NOT ASK cops for help…more trouble than it’s worth.  UNLESS, you find yourself in a village of about 30 people in Hulun Buir and he is strolling along the dirt road.  Those coppers enjoyed posing me with some other coppers and taking a photo together examining my Passport/Visa.)

Besides asking for help, I’ve always had a difficult time accepting the offer of a little assistance.  Why?  Heck if I know…maybe I think it will make me lesser of a person…weak, inferior, etc.

Well, when you are exhausted, hot, hungry…you learn to accept all the handouts you possibly can.

There is one major exception – MY BIKE!  At first, I was a little tolerant of people wanting to help hook up the panniers.  But then it just got out of control with big ol’ man sausage fingers being stuck in between my spokes (that sounds a little perverted).  Finally, I broke…the biggest sausages and the most aggressive stranger to approach outside a hotel to “help”.  I pushed his hand back firmly and looked him straight in the eyes and said, no I can do it!  (No quotation marks because it was in Chinese).  Usually I let girls and women give it a go because they are less aggressive and harsh with things.  The last thing I need is a broken bag.  AND, females pay MUCH closer attention to how I do it so they do it nearly perfect themselves.  The men…oh THE MEN………….OH….they have their own way to handle.

(Dear Reader, can you sense the feelings I have for the opposite sex here?  This is for another very VERY long essay in the future.  In small towns and especially villages, the men are generally harmless and kind…but start getting into “cities” – it’s a whole ‘nuther story.  That will be also included in my “Rules of the Road – Women Edition”.  I’d love to write a research paper on this subject but I think it may be a little one sided as 90% of my sources would be women.   Does the problem lie with the fact that there are no men in the education system as teachers?  Children are raised my women generally, where the boy is coddled beyond belief?  Where are the role models?  Probably working, making money to support their family…I don’t know – it’s stuff that swims in my head every single day.)

I don’t know if “solo” is the right word for my trip.  The amount of help and advice I have been given, and still receive, is beyond belief.  Every day, for nearly 5 months, someone offered me help of some sort.  Whether it was handing me water out of a car window, offering me a ride (no way), route advice, etc.

What I’ve really realized is that when you, me, us, ask for help – we open up ourselves to others.  And with this relationship wonderful things can happen and evolve.  Sometimes, after riding for hours without any human contact or communication, I would pull over and ask a question I already knew just to see where it would lead me.  Okay, yeah yeah yeah…once it lead me to a dangerous place…but you get what I’m saying.

So, I went from being afraid to ask for help to just going up to strangers with questions that I didn’t need answered just for human interaction.

I have more about all this written in my journals, which probably sounds a little more poetic, but I thought I would share now.

Every day I wake up wondering where I would be…I check the weather every evening to see how cold it would be getting in the NW.  Every time I get on my cruiser or road bike here, I get butterflies in my stomach.  When I road Lieutenant home from the train station a couple weeks back – I have a feeling towards it that I have never felt towards an in-animate object in my life.  She/He has a life of it’s own and when I gaze at her/him, I feel like he/she is gazing back with the same thoughts, memories, and experiences.  Weird, bizarre, crazy…maybe…it’s kind of my best friend and an extension of myself.

I would love to hear from you!