Thursday, July 16, 2009

UP AND OVER THE PASS












We rose at sunrise but the day got off to a bad start. There was no sign off the horse. Apparently it has a habit of breaking free and fighting with the other horses in the valley. At least we would have a feisty animal (when we find it). Ali was particularly impressed with our breakfast. Whatever we gave him to eat, he was very interested in where it was from. We had tea from Uzbekistan, nutella chocolate from Osh and biscuits from 20KMs down the valley. He seemed genuinely surprised that such biscuits could be found just down in the valley. In fact, when he heard Receed wake up in the yurt, he quickly heated up the sheep soup and brought it in to him. He then returned to us and continued eating biscuits. It was pretty obvious to Markus and I that he didn't want his sheppard buddy to know about the tasty biscuits that were been devoured just outside the yurt. Once all the biscuits were gone, Ali helped us with our bikes up the pass, while Receed went off to look for the horse. About 2 hours later Receed arrived on the horse and took our bags on up the hill. Ali took a particular fancy to my bike and was happy to carry it uphill, as long as he could pedal it on the flat parts. It was about 11am when we finally made it to the top of the pass. The relief. And the view across the other side. The altimeter read 3065M. We walked along the top of the pass, following the 2 guys until they found a suitable point to start the descent down the other side. We boiled up some tea and we all had a fine picnic of bread, chocolate and honey. These guys just helped us because its in their nature to help anyone that they can help. Anytime Marcos and I started laughing at something, the 2 guys would laugh along too. They hadn't a word of english but just enjoyed the novelty of hanging around with the unfamiliar sight of 2 guys bringing bikes up the side of this mountain. There was just a 'happy-go-lucky' sense to this whole part of adventure. After the picnic, I literally picked up my bags and threw them over the other side and let them slide down the frozen snow. I'd find them later. Ali hopped on my bike and rode it down the other side. I truly have no idea how he managed it without falling off and breaking his neck. Receed and I reached the top speed of the day by sliding down the frozen mountain snow on my tent bag. We used our elbows as brakes, and now 10 days later, I still have a large scar on my elbows. We said our goodbyes on the other side of the pass and Markus gave them a torch that the lads took a particular interest in. It can be recharged by winding it up rather than using batteries and that would be a big bonus to these sheppards, who rarely leave the mountainside.In the very distance we could see a path and this is where we needed to aim for. The sheppards directed us to the valleys we should aim for, while also pointing out the valleys we need to avoid. It was great to be finally rolling downhill rather than pushing and dragging the bike uphill, but downhill is more dangerous. I've walked up and down glaciers before, but I've always wore crampons (a shoe attachment made up of steel spikes that you place on the sole of your shoes to give you extra grip). Now picture two cyclists skiing down glaciers, with our fully loaded bikes sideways. One hand on the handlebars, one hand on the saddle. The braking system was simple and effective; we would tilt the bike towards us causing the pedal to lock into the ice. It was probably the craziest thing I'd ever done, (but it was still only early in the week). Once out of the snow line things got a bit easier. The priority was always to get into the right valley. As we dropped altitude, we came across a nomad family that were in the process of skinning a goat. We were welcomed in and it was amazing watching how the whole family worked in harmony to prepare the goat for dinner. The father skinned the animal, the two sons prepared a camp fire and barbequed the head and hoofs, the mother and daughter remained mostly inside the yurt boiling up water and herbs and preparing the different parts of the beast as the father cut them out. And the guests are not left too long to sit around staring and taking photos. We were quickly signalled to roll up our sleeves and help the boys barbeque the head. And so lunch was a fine lump of meat from a goat that spent the morning grazing on mountain grass that has never seen a pestitside. It doesn't get more organic than that. We continued down the valley. The path became very difficult to track. We were up to chest height in vegetation, pushing the bikes with a lot of force because of the resistance caused by the plant life. Later we got another invitation into a yurt, this time for a bowl (followed by another bowl) of fermented horse milk. It doesn't taste too strong but it goes straight to the head. An hour later we were running parallel to a small river and we had a definite horse path. It was a good day. In fact it was a great day and we set up the tents beside the river and got a big campfire organised for the evening.

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