Day 11. Back to Dushanbe

The room was too hot to sleep last night, but all the best sleeping places over the river had been taken. Fortunately it cooled overnight so I did get some sleep by the time morning came.

Breakfast was set and the table was buzzing with anticipation for the day ahead - literally as bees had taken over one end of the table where the jams were placed. Honey production is a local industry and a good source of income for the locals, and across the river from the hotel there were scores of hives (which on my first visit here, I thought were houses! It was only until I saw kids playing this morning that the scale of the 'houses' became apparent). The bees had obviously found an easy source of sucrose and were gorging themselves on the various sugars on offer. What was interesting was how we were mostly content to eat breakfast with so many bees buzzing around us competing for the same food source, and when the table was cleared, the host treated the bees very gently like he was dealing with very young children.

The pristine asphalt awaited our chorus of single cylinder engines at full chat, paused only briefly by occasional breaks of gravel. The road is dramatic, sweeping and very fast, but care is needed on the corners with long drops awaiting an over ambitious right hand.

This part of the Panj river is framed on one side by Afghanistan and on the other by Tajikistan in a magnificent gorge that in places allowed the river to become calmer before erupting into full-on raging torrent.

We passed through the GBOA Checkpoint where our passports were once more checked and later stop for coffee and drinks next to a very wide alluvial plane created by a water runoff from our side of the gorge. 

Then more lovely winding and sweeping asphalt until eventually the road flattens out. But by now it's also very hot and like riding into a fan heater and do we need plenty of fluid to stay hydrated.

We stop for lunch at the same place we ate when we came in this direction. I remember it, and I remember not being very hungry because I was still very ill. This time I was on form and therefore enjoyed the soup and mantu (dumplings)placed before me. 

Then the fan heater was turned up to full power for the last blast on the flats. We thread our way past the traffic or at times are almost virtually barged out of the way by enthusiastically driven upmarket 4x4s.

At our last stop before Dushanbe there's a small boy who's obviously broken his leg at some point in the recent past. It's not healed well and his leg is deformed to the extent that he has difficultly walking. He seems happy enough, but you know this will blight his life. It's very sad to see. We are so lucky in the west, in so many ways.

Cary limbers up before jumping back on the bike.

Finally, we hit the outskirts of town and the first change of direction for a while at a roundabout. I notice my bike doesn't respond as I expect and the same again not long after. Looking down I can see the front tyre is very soft. I carry on, being even more cautious when slowing down or in corners. As I continue I can feel it getting worse; do I stop and wait for Anton in the Hilux or do I carry on hoping it stays inflated enough to limp home?

I opt for the latter and shift my weight to the back of the bike. Charlie thinks I'm just larking around. At highway speeds it's not so much of an issue as the tyre is kept virtually inflated by centrifugal momentum, but at low speed it becomes a handful wobbling and vibrating as I stop.

Finally we pull into the hotel but not before I nearly tumble on the last bend to the hotel road, it feels like the tyre nearly came off the rim. I push the bike the final few metres into the courtyard. Apart from the puncture, it has been supremely reliable. 

I forgot to start my watch when we left, so the tracking is 63km short 

Hugs and high fives all around, we've made it back in one piece - always a relief for us and the tour guides.

Before dinner Anton assesses the bike conditions, and the dents in my rims and the broken mirror warrant recompense. Apparently Andre feels bad about asking, but 115 dollars seems fair. Nobody else incurs a charge, but I do tend to ride a little harder than average - a Biker Dom afliction. 

Dinner is at a group favorite, Al Sham, middle eastern. But ice cream is also enjoyed. 

The Tajikistan ride is over, but the journey continues into Uzbekistan without our powered two wheelers, which are going back to Kazakhstan with Andrey and Anton.

Day 10. Dirty Danny's Dust Muff

So we're back on the road from Kharog to Kalaikhum a road that goes through small villages along the river, with Afghanistan on the other side. The valley floor is flat with small green farms channelled by the road, the river, and the steep sides of the valley. Freeze thaw debris from the solid rock creates an aluvial fan, a virtual river of rocks and stones flowing from the mountain side. They flow in slow motion over eons of time or occasionally, when accelerated by heavy rainfall, become landslides. 

The rocks on this road surface are smaller and less craggy than the gravel roads we rode yesterday, that was at times a pure gravel road, while this is more dirt road with stones and patches of old asphalt. It's been so dry of late that parts feel just like fine sand ready to catch out the lazy rider. The main characteristic of today is dust, it gets everywhere, and hangs in the air for tens of seconds after a rider or car passes. Vision is a real problem as the fine dust coats the inside and outside of all optical surfaces. For me wearing spectacles and having a sunshade in my helmet, that's six surfaces to clean. I carry a damp microfibre cloth and periodically clean all of them when we stop; otherwise a gloved finger suffices for the accessible front surfaces.  After cleaning with the cloth I hang back from the rider ahead to minimize the dust landing on my visor, but this strategy falls apart as soon as a car passes creating it's own dust cloud. And there are many cars and trucks traversing the road today, 4x4s loaded high with luggage and goods, some of these are the Pamir 'taxis' carrying tourists along the Pannier Highway.

Kids wave enthusiastically as ever, but they are becoming so bold that they edge out further into the road looking for you to slap their hands. It's not something I do and I think it's a danger to the kids and the rider, it could so easily go wrong.

It's time for a mid morning break and we have to stop anyway at what must be the only traffic light on this remote road in a town called Rushan. Charlie takes the lead to find a stop. About 10km beyond Rushan we find a very nice 'cafe without name'. We get coffee, cold drinks and some potato pastries to fill the gap in our stomachs. We get chatting to the lady serving and discover she speaks very good English. She learned this at school and then went to study and live in New Delhi for several years, and now she's about to start a masters in flora and fauna at Darwin College Cambridge. She started the cafe with her family three months ago as part of an aid package provided by USAid, but it still doesn't have a name. At ground level they also process and package mulberries to sell and they give us a bag full on the house. Delicious they were too.

We continue our ride through villages that punctuate the road.  The scenery changes as the road now clings to the side of the wide gorge, with the river running below. It's wild in places, but slows in others. At one slow point we can see kids on the opposite side jumping into the flow and drifting a hundred metres or so downstream before climbing out.

We stop for lunch at the 'sourdough cafe' and have bread with our soup, chicken or 'kebabs', but they're not like the kebabs we know, yet taste fine. We wash our buffs in the stream and then wear them wet around our necks - very refreshing. 

Yet more dramatic scenery, Taliban bases to observe and a Taliban camp, which through his long lens, Steve tells us it looks like they're getting ready for an execution. Or maybe not.

This road is twisty and challenging, yet we continually see articulated lorries plodding it's length. How do they even get through some of these bends? Later we come across one such truck negotiating a corner. Andre squeezes through the gap, but Mark, behind a car that stops, hesitates, also stops, and ends up falling next to the car, giving the car driver a real fright. Christopher in his effort to help Mark, also manages to topple. The mellee of bikes is quite a sight, but we're soon moving again and regroup just beyond the bend, where we get ice creams! Mark also walks over to apologize to the car driver and shakes hands; all good. 

We can really feel the heat today and we're all in minimal layers. When we stop we lose the cooling breeze and the sweat develops. But as soon as we move, that sweat helps to cool you. At our stop we notice some of us have developed dirty shadows around our eyes, we call these "dust muffs", and Danny and Steve have a good ones.

Not long to go now, but before we get to Kalaikhum we visit the site of an old civilization high up the side of the gorge. Andre rides with Anton as pillion, while Christopher joins me for the challenging ride up the hill. Andre does well with his load especially as the drop from the path we take is very steep. There's not much left city of Caron, but they are trying to discover and preserve what they can. The views into Afghanistan and along the river are impressive. The ride back down is even more challenging and local dogs chasing us, add to the drama. 

Arrival at the same hotel as a few nights ago, the lad who looks like the younger brother of the owner is the ever the welcoming host. He's very attentive and it's clear he takes his job very seriously despite being only about 15.

Dinner starts with a delicious collection of fruits, followed by soup and stew. Both very good.

After dinner and a few vodkas Charlie and Andre discuss the route for tomorrow, our last day of riding. We have two options, one is longer but faster, the other a bit unknown. They argue at length and I retire before hearing the conclusion. I'm sure both will be fun.

Day 9. Danny Goes Down

The day's riding starts with a blast along roads heading away from Murgarb. They're a mix of old asphalt and gravel as we climb in altitude to around 4000m. There are many potholes and large rocks mixed into the gravel, both of which are very unforgiving. The land is barren, no trees, no shrubs, maybe a few very small patches of stunted vegetation; it's hard to imagine anything surviving here.

When we stop, Andre points out a large dent in my rear rim. I don't recall hitting anything hard enough to have caused that, but it's fortunate that my tyre was not punctured. 

It's not long after we set off, and I'm following Danny. In this terrain you should never follow close behind another rider as you won't see what's in your path through all their dust.  What I do see, is Danny's rear wheel in gravel, I also see that it's kicked up a pointy rock, but for whatever reason I don't manage to avoid that same rock. Bang! That was a BIG impact hitting the front wheel. Boy do these bikes take a pounding.

Within less than a minute I am suddenly struggling to keep control as the deflated front tyre tries its best to throw me off while I'm desperately trying to stop. Phew, that was close, I lost all control of the steering, but managed to not fall off.  Stopped at the side of the road, Charlie joins me and we wait for Anton in the Hilux. He's soon with us and his well calibrated stick supports the bike while he removes the front wheel to fix the puncture. 

We see two heavily ladden bikes coming the other way. But these are no ordinary bikers, they are traveling with three dogs on the back of their BMW F650 bikes. They stop and we get chatting while they unload the dogs, put leads on them and let them stretch their little legs. The Australian couple have been on the road for eight years... Eight years! In that time they've visited 99 countries and plan to visit Pakistan and India before they finish their epic journey. They seem very glad to chat and we take a few pictures. (Later I discover they are quite famous and are well known on the Internet. My biker buddy Gerard even met them on the road in Armenia in the spring.)

Barren gives way to greenery as we drop 1000m from the plateau at around 4000m. The scenery becomes less harsh and more picturesque. 

Despite the lovely scenery we struggle to find somewhere to eat, as everywhere is either closed or has no supplies. Cary gets an honourable mention for a graceful horizontal dismount when we finally find somewhere open, fortunately neither she nor the bike were harmed. But there's no food, so we end up with a Snickers and RC Cola lunch. 

At this point Andre ducks out and loads his bike onto the Hilux; he's been suffering from a stomach bug and feels it's safer to sit the ride out. There's only one direction to go and Charlie takes the lead with Steve as sweeper backed up by Andre and Anton in the Hilux.

We keep up a good pace, stopping periodically to take pictures of the magnificent scenery. 

We've been following the Gunt river for some time and it's bright blue water makes any picture come alive. There's a suspension bridge across the river and Christopher and Danny cross it. I'm proud to read that this bridge was funded through an EU programme, one of many aid projects in this area. 

I see the group stop ahead and there's a crowd gathered. A local family tending their garden have invited us in for tea. We kindly decline as we know it would take some time, but not before both sides have taken plenty of pictures of each other. Cary has found some new friends, they must be inspired by our female biker.

Later through one village the dusty road takes a bend to the left where the surface is covered in loose gravel. The sudden change of direction and the surface takes Danny by surprise and I see him ahead in a crumpled heap. First things first, he's ok. Next priority, pictures! Begrudgingly he accepts the natural order of things on our trips. We help him get his bike upright and he dusts himself down. On we go.

Our arrival back in Khorog is cut short as the road is closed for a concert. We take a detour which sees us crossing the river twice and going through the far side of town. Eventually we get back on track and refuel at the same place we did a few days ago. There's a group a Czech bikers there all riding Yamaha T7s. They're traveling the Silk Road in three phases over three years, flying back to the Czech Republic in between; seems like a strange way to do it, but I guess not everyone can take three months off work at once.

Room allocation at the hotel is chaotic and it's the first time I've seen Charlie almost lose his cool. We've booked rooms, but they are not available, instead we're offered a set of rooms either without facilities or with double beds instead of twins. Eventually it gets sorted, somehow Danny ends up in the presidential suite, while Christopher and I get a room with no hot water. 🤷

A run follows and I relish the thicker air. At 2000m it's still a challenge, but much easier than at 3600m yesterday. I run towards the Afghan border, only stopped by the Panj river. 

There are not many restaurants open but Andre finds a good one. We enjoy the best kebabs of the whole trip. 

Day 8. Day Trip to Karakul Lake

Today will be the peak of our trip in altitude terms as we traverse the Akbaytal Pass on our way to Karakul Lake for the day and a lunch stop. At 4600m we won't go any higher on this trip. 

Mark won't be joining us today as he's still recovering from a bug, plus previous visits to altitude have resulted in hospital stays for him, so he has been advised not to venture above 3500m or so.

Before we can go anywhere we need fuel. Opposite the hotel is set of storage tanks and we line up while a bucket is filled with highly inflammable liquid, which is then poured into our motorcycle tanks using a large funnel and a glass jar. Fuel overflows, gets spilled and drips everywhere. We leave high on fumes. 

Setting off from Murghab it's a long slog on what was once asphalt but now is a large, long jigsaw with lots of pieces missing. The gaps are filled with gravel at the bottom of varying pot hole sizes. In between the asphalt sections are 'washboard' surfaces formed from the hardened dust. We've seen similar surfaces before in Bolivia, they're very punishing for bike and rider. Andre advises us to ride fast to get a rhythm that counteracts the vibration - well that's the theory. We end up at between 90 and 120 kph, which is a bit alarming at first, especially when you hit your first gravel rut which makes the bike shimmy, but the speed of the wheels gives the stability to carry on in a straight line, just don't fight the handlebars. 

It's noticeably cooler as we climb, so much so that even the famous Mr King dons an outer layer jacket! We're all gobsmacked as he's normally a t-shirt man whatever the weather. 

This is desolate terrain, devoid of significant features in the valley between high mountains on either side. The evidence suggests water flows here when it rains as the gravel fields on either side of the road have formed what look like water channels. One can imagine the greenery that blooms when that happens. There are a few creatures too, I see a red marmoset and there are also a few birds of prey patrolling the skies above. 

We come across a pair of true bikers, a Dutch father and son on bicycles. They are also heading for Karakul Lake and ultimately the Kyrgyzstan border. They tell us the highest point in the Netherlands is 300m, but they seem to be coping very well with the altitude and the inclines. 

Andre suddenly diverts off the road onto the dirt and rides through a break in a long and secure looking fence. He tells us this is the Chinese border and we've crossed it! We play around taking photos, but question the lack of any border guards. Checking our GPS position on a map reveals the actual Chinese border is some 20km away! But it is a security fence so must be a hangover from Soviet times. 

We stop at the Akbaytal pass for photos, the views are impressive. 

Setting off again, we drop down from the pass to around 4000m and eventually the lake comes in to view. From a distance its deep blue colour is spectacular, especially with the white capped peaks behind. 

Turning off the asphalt highway onto the gravel we head towards the lake. At the very edge it's marshy and Charlie cakes his rear tyre in mud before he reaches our group parked up just above the marsh.

This is our lunch spot, but not before Biker Dom has his obligatory dip in the lake. At just under 4000m high, the large lake is cold, but there's a relatively shallow area that is a little warmer. The water near the edge is bareable, while further out it is freezing. Five minutes is enough, I'm out. Lunch is a picnic and I eat while drying off using the Hilux as a windbreak. Lunch is yak dumplings, chips, a boiled egg, prepared by the hotel and some watermelon brought by Andre and Anton. While we're eating lunch we see motorbikes in the distance, the first we have seen apart from ourselves. 

On the way back to the hotel I experiment with filming the others on my helmet cam while riding along. I'm darting about in between and the sides and behind Danny, Christopher and the others and they are puzzled until realising they are being filmed. The results were pretty good, I'll do more of that tomorrow. 

We're back by 4:30pm and refuel to save time tomorrow morning as it's a long day. 

I torture myself and go for another run at 6pm, taking it a little easier this time, but it's still hard work. I see a few local sights and take a few pictures which are nice recovery breaks in between panting.  

Steve, Danny and Cary take a walk into town to find the bazaar. They find a bazaar collection of products in the local shops and buy a few sweet treats.

After dinner, Charlie shows us where we've been and the intended route tomorrow. We have three days left and all look tough - just the way we like it!

Day 7. A Room With a View

After a fun evening in the hot spa, waking up and seeing a view like this from the toilet is bonus. 

Another great technical ride awaits, this time from the hotel back down the mountain. Lots of gravel and sharp bends. The first petrol station we find has no petrol, the next one does, but it's double the price we saw in Dushanbe, but we need fuel so have no choice. The filling technique would have the health and safety people apoplectic. 

Mark is not feeling well today, but bravely joins us, he looks almost as bad as he feels but hasn't given up yet. The option to ride in the Hilux is still there if needed.

Lots of gravel as we continue to follow the river along the border. The river has widened, the land has become flatter and there are many farms growing wheat and other crops along the way. Like wherever we go, children hearing our bikes run out to wave gleefully at us and we happily reciprocate, while they also yell the ubiquitous "hello, hello!" at us. Nearly everyone I wave at, waves back: children, women, men, grannies, soldiers, lorry drivers, police and even the hard to reach teenagers. Tajikistan has a very high score on the old wavometer, around 96% I'd say; up there with India. 

The terrain changes and the river seems to become smaller, giving you the impression that you could wade across it at some points. Of course it's very deceiving because the river is still flowing fast and it's depth is not clear. Even so, along all the border roads we've seen plenty of border guards watching out for the bad guys; yet without fail and belying their tough military exterior and AK47s, they always wave back to us.

We see a group of brown dromedary camels grazing on the other river bank, of course we stop to take pictures. There's no sign of a herder. I ride right down to the river's edge; At this point I'm not sure if this is still Afghanistan on the other side.

Later where the river has cut its way through the mountain to create a gorge we stop for some group photos with the dramatic mountains in the background. We've gained elevation back up to 3500m from around 3000m lower in the valley and having moved away from the Afghan border. 

The riding gets more challenging. Gravel, but more dips, more corners, hairpins, steeper parts and sections of dreaded sand! Small water courses have cut small valleys, and there are small bridges over the streams. A bigger bridge had been washed away and we take a detour further up the small valley. There's a challenging crossing further along where bigger rocks and stones have to be negotiated before crossing three large pipes set into road that channel the water. The pipes are not flush need care, ideally raising the front wheel first to get over the first (a skill I don't have yet).

Eventually the road flattens out and becomes faster, and we're still climbing. We stop and gather at a checkpoint and Danny and Christopher arrive; Danny is buzzing with excitement saying how much he enjoyed that blast. We show our passports and GBAO permits needed for this region and then we're off again. The road is more of the same and we keep climbing, eventuality reaching 4310m. 

The scenery here reminds us of the Altiplano in South America, quite flat, barren and windy. There's more gravel roads, which we all enjoy and then we hit the asphalt, but not before Mark has a little sit down to recover. He's done well to get this far. 

Apparently the asphalt road was build by the Soviets about 60 years ago, the fact that it's still here is testament to its solid construction back then. It is not in perfect condition, some potholes could swallow a motorbike wheel, so we have to be careful as they are sometimes difficult to see. But generally we can make fast progress. The scenery is looking more and more like Patagonia and when we stop for lunch in a rundown high altitude, spread out and a little rundown settlement we all say the same thing. 

More riding on fast roads, this time Mark leading, and he's in his element in the mostly good asphalt. We wave at ask the lorry drivers and some toot back.

Eventually Andre takes the lead again. Another pass at 4100m and we begin to lose altitude. Its now after 5pm and the light is getting tricky; the mountains shade sections and the low sun is also in our eyes. With dust on our visors it's very difficult to see ahead clearly; I flip my visor and my sunshade up and rely on my specs, which works better.

I pass a new fence construction and speculate on its purpose, the angle of the top suggests its keeping things in - a prison comes to mind. 

We arrive in our destination town Murghab at 3600m and again have our passports and permits checked and recorded. We learn while there that the fence is actually going to be a zoo... There's also a mini theme park near the checkpoint, complete with bicycle racks; and a new hotel is being built, but it seems some distance from the centre, or indeed anything. 

There's no WiFi/Internet at the hotel, but there is some glimmer of hope from a cell tower next to our hotel. At dinner, Steve becomes a tech support guru for Christopher...

Before dinner I go for a run. At 3600m I really suffer and the kids in town laugh as I pant by. It's the hardest 2.7km I've run outside of Tibet, but I didn't expect this altitude to be so tough.

Speaking of tough, our Suzuki bikes have been excellent and even though mine has over 84 thousand kms on the speedo, its still on the original engine, clutch, shock absorber and other major components, only the bearings and other consumables have been changed - that's tough!