Kyrgyzstan

​Kyrgyzstan (above following the Kyrgyz horses into Osh)

Many hours in the Tararuas in my early days taught me never to trust alpine weather. Those peaks were 1500 to 1700 metres. In high country which has the highest peak north of the Himalayas (7400m) Kyrgyzstan has that effect amplified. Sitting in my cowshed camp at nearly 3000 metres, it was spectacular watching the storm sweep up the valley which minutes earlier had been bathed in sunshine. The temperature plummeted 20 degrees and visibility dropped to 20 metres. Ahead was an even higher pass with a 200 kilometre off road trail with much of it over 3500 metres. For once wisdom prevailed over stubbornness and next morning I did my first U-turn. The downhill blast back down to Lake Issyk Kul was a fast blast, with sprays of mud from the heavy rain.

My first impressions crossing into Kyrgyzstan had been set by the easy border crossing, requiring nothing but a stamp in the passport and a “Welcome to Kyrgyzstan”. The main road towards Karakol  set the tone for the hard roads ahead. Fifteen degree slope over gravel the size of small boulders. An unfortunate young boy was directed by his Mum to lend a hand. Two kilometres of hard pushing earnt him a cake of chocolate and my very grateful thanks (he was not so happy with his Mum when they collected him in a creaky old Lada at the top of the climb).

Kyrgyzstan also has discovered tourists (or vice-versa). After encountering 3 cyclists in the previous 6000 kilometres, I met 5 on my first day. A French/German couple had been on the road for 3 years. They offered a lot of good advice for my route ahead ( including a useful note that a couple of roads on my route didn’t exist). Karakol was a shock, from being sole tourist I was now amongst hundreds. Karakol has become a centre for hiking and dozens of groups were coming or going from various hikes in the area. Tourist talk abounded, have you been there, you must see this.

I found excellent food in Karakol to supplement the daily pasta and canned fish. Lighthouse Cafe was also congregation point for passing tourists including a Belgium couple. They were able to solve the first of my Tajikistan permit problems with a credit card that worked on the government e-visa site. The conversation also resulted in a reroute over the 3800 metre Arabella pass (boldly attempted but resulting in the U turn described above). The final route used a 3020m pass but at least on a tarmac surface. Enjoyed a few days cycling the shores of Lake Issyk Kul, where I added two Belarusian cyclists to my growing list of cycling nationalities.

I arrived in Naryn in time to coincide with the international Silk Road bike packing race. Unfortunate to miss Kiwi Joe Nation who eventually won the race, but encountered a number of drop outs from this incredibly tough race.

From Naryn to Osh believe it or not the road had two huge passes to conquer. On the first I was lucky enough to find a sheltered camp site half way up with magnificent evening and morning views. Midway between the passes was Kazarman which had a guest house whose owner assured me he had driven the main highway to OSH 5 times on “good road”. Off I set on another route diversion. I began to get nervous with almost no traffic on the route. I stopped a downward headed car and the driver assured me “OK to Osh” (at least thats what I took from the Russian/sign-language exchange). Four hours of climbing later I was confronted by a very aggressive road worker, this time there was no uncertainty, road closed turn around and go on the gnarly dirt pass road. The compensation was the flying 40 kilometre downhill that fooled my track followers into believing I had jumped on a truck.

The next climb was hampered by stomach problems and slipping gears in the 3 vital lowest ratios. Seven kilometres from the summit I was reduced to a slow walk and gladly accepted a ride to the top. The day ended in a beautiful bush camp, sheltered from the strong wind if not the rain. Two days later I emerged onto the plain leading to Jalal Abad and onto Osh. Landscape turned very urban. In Jalal Abad I had a long pleasant conversation with a local welder. Great to have Google translate to have a little depth in a conversation with no common language, although I am beginning to remember some Russian.

Kyrgyzstan has been impacted by tourism. There is a noticeable increase in cost for similar accomodation I have stayed. Local children have picked up some habits (blocking the road asking for chocolate or money and most dangerous, little ones grabbing at handlebars). Fundamentally the people have been kind and generous, with a sense of fun. On Monday I cross the border to Uzbekistan.

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First morning Kyrgyzstan

Lake Issyk Kul

And the mist rolls in towards Arabela Pass

Following the lake shore on route option 2

A very empty Otta Tokay reservoir on the way to Kochkor

Donkey corner on the climb over the pass to Naryn

Nomad Kyrgyz stalls along the gorge leading into Naryn

Racing some friends down the Naryn River valley

Camp sunrise  Naryn River valley

Kazarman babushkas

Andijan Reservoir across the Uzbekistan border approaching Osh

Beautiful park camp heading into Osh

And into Osh city