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.
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