D+97: High times

After an unrelenting progression of checkpoints, I crossed the border into Kyrgyzstan.  Almost immediately the presence of a more open trade economy was everywhere – Adidas, Gucci, stretch Hummers, loud western music – smell the capitalism. At a designated guesthouse in Osh, I finally met up with a few members of my China crossing group; frankly, it was a miracle that after 3 months of wildly galavanting across Europe and Central Asia, I’d managed to get here in [mostly] one piece.

Didn’t hang round long, heading out on a quick 3 day tour of the Fergana Range, up to Song Kul lake. The route was mostly an unsealed, gravelly, muddy affair, but great fun!  I really felt like I improved my off-road riding skills and high-altitude management during this time – a few mods to the intake and exhaust, adapted throttle control style and up on pegs stance saw Rosie and I fording water crossings, perilous mountain switchbacks and clearing 3600m passes. She’s gonna drag up at 4700m for sure, but I have confidence in her and myself to get there.

The Fergana Range provided an amazing backdrop to my training. Several of the mountains exhibited diagonal stripe markings, like they had been drawn on. Parts of the track reminded me of a crude open cut mine, whilst other sections were so unearthly, I thought I was exploring Mars. High view points offered vistas of grassy plains, desert ranges and snowy mountain peaks all in one. Song Kul lake was strangely warm, still and dead silent, with near golf course perfect grass, glassy waters and countless cows, sheep, goats and horses (plus all the droppings they entailled).

I wanted to take an alternate route back to Osh, but this drew such a serious response of danger from the locals, that I acquiesced and took the same way back. Back in Osh I pressure washed the caked mud off the bike (she looked filthy, but awesome), completed a servicing, rechecked my gear, restocked on spare parts, stripped as much dead weight as possible, in preparation for the high altitudes in the next couple of weeks. 

In an epic looking 6 motorbike convoy, we rolled out of Osh up to Sary Tash, drawing more attention than ever before – kids and adults alike were going bonkers (some really young kids even flipped us the bird!). We overnighted at the Peak Lenin Base Camp and whilst it felt like cheating riding a motorbike up to a mountaineering base camp, it was well worth it. The night was cold but the frosty morning greeted us with an amazing sight of pristine, snowy-white 6000-7000m mountain range. Unfortunately one of the group was suffering altitude sickness, so we returned to Sary Tash as soon as we packed up. I’ve spent a week up at altitudes between 2000-3600m but fortunately have gotten away without any ailments.

With the entire group assembled and readied, we crossed over to China. Being in a long convoy of motorcycles silhouetted against snowy mountains, the thrum of the motors, the bracing wind, knowing where I started, where I was now and where I was going, is a moment that will stay with me forever. The group is composed of 3 English, 1 Irish, 3 Australians, 1 New Zealander and 1 Spanish, on a mixture of dual sport bikes. A really good crew, with lots of different backgrounds and experiences, the trip is going to be great. Additionally, a majority of the group members I will meet up with again to cross Burma.

Repeated checkpoints, customs and baggage control consumed several hours; pretty sure one of the checkpoints stopped us simply so they could get photos. We eventually cruised into Kashgar and rumbled into the courtyard of an inner city hostel, practically overrunning the place. Not that it took much, the place was already a noisy, confusing menagerie of people, cultures, languages, animals, machines and laundry.

Kashgar is a curious blend of Muslim and Chinese, new and old constructions and western and eastern shops. Armed police and military stand guard, while nearby, groups of locals perform dances or calisthenics, all whilst electric scooters run rampant on the sidewalks; it seems like almost every bicycle (which I expected to see hordes of) has been replaced by these silent, deadly instruments of destruction in an attempt to reduce pollution, but certainly not pedestrian safety. 

We have had three days to tour the new and old parts of the city, taste the amazing street food and day trip to the immensely impressive Shipton Arch, the world’s largest natural arch. Had an interesting exerience refuelling with a kettle, due to motorbikes being prohibited from entering petrol stations for some reason. I was half hoping some Mandarin would come back to me, but I’ve been as useless as tits on a bull. Today we start on the Karakorum Highway proper, up to Issyk Kul lake – cant wait.

A few of the lads helped me tighten up a loose steering head bearing, whilst the sagging luggage rack and half-stripped sump plug hole will need tending to in India or Nepal. Everything else is as readied as can be, so ill see you on the other side.

Cheers
– Kenny

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