Route profile

I classified the roads into: 'A' roads: asphalt, smooth, cycling speed >25 km/h. 'B' roads: rough asphalt or dirt roads, cycling speed <18 km/h. 'C' roads: gravel or potholed roads, cycling speed <14 km/h.

Ceste sem razvrstil takole: 'A' ceste: gladek asfalt, hitrost kolesarjenja >25 km/h. 'B' ceste: grob asfalt ali makadam, hitrost kolesarjenja <18 km/h. 'C' ceste: grob makadam, kamenje in luknje, hitrost <14 km/h.

Cycling data

Day Date Trip Alti Time   Speed  Climb Incline Total Accom Notes (daily end-stop) ***
                         Avr Max       Avr Max
    d/m   km   m   h:m  km/h km/h    m   %   %    km
0   5/8    0  720  0:0   0.0  0.0    0   0   0     0   a   to Bishkek by plane
1   6/8  119 1365  6:47 17.5 46.7  800   2  11   119   w   before the Too Ashuu pass
2   7/8   85 2260  6:36 12.8 61.5 2021   4  11   204   w   Suusamyr valley
3   8/8  112 1038  5:10 21.6 54.0  974   2  10   316   h   Toktogul
4   9/8  109  997  5:47 18.9 65.5 1345   4  10   425   h   Kara kol
5  10/8  133  644  7:58 16.7 54.1 1186   2  11   558   h   Kochkor Ata
6  11/8  104  998  6:15 16.5 68.4  981   2   9   662   f   Ozgon
7  12/8   57 1035  3:54 14.5 43.0  399   2   9   719   h   Osh
8  13/8   85 1556  5:40 15.0 43.0 1397   2  11   804   h   Gulcha
9  14/8  106 3036  7:56 13.3 46.0 2282   3  12   910   h   Sary Tash
10 15/8   67 2846  5:47 11.0 30.0  885   3  12   977   f   Nura
11 16/8   77 2459  4:50 15.8 58.0  678   3  11  1054   w   60 km after Chinese border
12 17/8  180 1301  8:04 22.3 60.0 1190   2   9  1234   h   Kashgar
13 18/8    0 1301  0:0   0.0  0.0    0   0   0  1234   h   Kashgar
14 19/8  143 2804  8:31 16.7 46.0 1706   2   9  1377   w   in the Ghez canyon
15 20/8  153 3037  8:20 18.3 51.0 1563   3   8  1530   h   Tashkorgan
16 21/8  102 3543  6:40 15.2 41.0 1131   2   7  1632   h   Kara kol lake
17 22/8  212 1309  9:34 22.1 66.5  520   2   9  1844   h   Kashgar
18 23/8    0 1309  0:0   0.0  0.0    0   0   0  1844   h   Kashgar
19 24/8    0 1331  0:0   0.0  0.0    0   0   0  1844   h   Kashgar
20 25/8  124 1350  6:12 19.9 30.0  154   1   2  1968   h   Kashgar-Yengisar-Kashgar
21 26/8    0 1340  0:0   0.0  0.0    0   0   0  1968   h   Kashgar
22 27/8   30 3363  ?:?   ?.?  ?.?    ?   ?   ?  1998   f   after Torugart pass
23 28/8  114 2038  7:46 14.7 35.0  366   2  10  2112   w   before Naryn
24 29/8   94 2372  5:34 16.9 46.5 1303   2   9  2206   w   before Dolon pass
25 30/8  102 1698  5:54 17.3 39.7  689   3  13  2308   w   before Balykchy
26 31/8  108 1459  6:43 16.0 43.5  346   2   6  2416   w   after Balykchy
27  1/9  142  881  7:17 19.5 45.0  286   2   6  2558   h   Bishkek
28  2/9   33  754  1:55 17.5 37.0    ?   ?   ?  2591   h   Bishkek
29  3/9    0  879  0:0   0.0  0.0    0   0   0  2591   h   Bishkek
30  4/9    0  654  0:0   0.0  0.0    0   0   0  2591   h   Bishkek
31  5/9    0  300  0:0   0.0  0.0    0   0   0  2591   a   to Ljubljana by plane

Days     Trip Alti Time   Speed  Climb Incline
                         Avr Max       Avr Max
          km   m    h:m km/h km/h   m    %   % 
32      2591  -  150:10  -   -   22202   -   -  Sum
23      2553  -  148:21  -   -   22195   -   -  Sum, cycling days
 -       212 3543  9:34 22.3 68.4 2282   4  13  MAX
 -        33  654  1:55 11.0 30.0  154   1   2  min
 -        81 1568  4:42 17.3 35.9  694 1.7 6.7  average per day
 -       111 1773  6:27 17.3 48.3  965 2.3   9  average per cycling day

*** Legend
12 17/8 - cycling day
13 18/8 - non cycling or rest day
Trip    - daily cycling distance
Alti    - altitude at the end of the day
Time    - daily cycling time (while in motion)
Speed   - daily cycling speed (while in motion): Avr - average; Max - maximal.
Climb   - daily cumulative altitude gain (registered by altimeter)
Incline - road inclination while climbing: Avr - daily average; Max - maximal
Total   - cumulative distance
Accom   - accommodation: a: airplane; h: ho(s)tel; f: at a family; w: wild camping

Travelogue

Bumm-Dumm-Tumm-PSSSSssssssss   or   A guide to anticycling in Central Asia

An old-time traveler could hide in shame if he got his wallet nicked in a picturesque market of some "third-world" country. Just as a hard-cored cyclist who gets his bike stolen while he's sending victorious e-mails about his successfully ended trip. What should the author of this article do then, when both things happend to him, and a dog bites him as a bonus? Now that several months had passed from his round trip in Kyrgyzstan and Xinjiang, it's best if he writes a story, as an information to others and a sign of reconciliation with the cruel destiny.
6.8.2004

A breather on a tough Too Ashuu pass.

The plane landed at Manas airport in Bishkek early in the morning. My luggage and bike arrived safely and I assembled it without too much attention of the Kyrgyz taxi drivers. I had a bit of jet-lag, but have decided not to waste a day and to start cycling into the mountains right away. During a short stop in Bishkek to send e-mails and to buy water, I saw that quite a few sewage covers had grating running parallel to the road or had been missing altogether. It'd be a quick end to my trip if I hit one of those, so I hurried outside of the city. Soon the temperature rose to 40 deg C and few hours of unpleasant ride on a bad road with heavy traffic ended the somewhat idealistic picture that I built about this trip.
At midday I was already dehydrated and stopped in a shady place to cool myself with water from the small stream. A women passed by and told me that last night someone had stolen the bridge over the irrigation channel! Not a good sign for someone planning to do wild camping in this land. In the afternoon the wind rose from the west announcing heavy rains, but to my surprise only a dry, dusty storm passed over me. Towards the end of the day I found a bit of flat space to lay the tent and went to sleep feeling pretty disillusioned.

Milking a mare.

7.8.2004
I rose to a wonderful morning. Ater the first easy 20 km the climb toward the Too Ashuu pass started and soon the gradients were not dropping below 7 %. To reach the tunnel at the top I had to stop several times, taking water from the streams along the way. A quick descent on the other side was ended by strong headwind and I gruelled against it along the Suusamyr river for the rest of the day. Two French cyclists flew in from the opposite direction, smiling, enjoying the tailwind blowing above the smooth road.
8.8.2004
The next morning the wind was gone, the road was climbing in a gentle inclination toward the Ala-Bel pass. The pastures with horses and yurts lined the road and a family invited me inside for a cup of tea and a demonstration of milking a mare. The descent on the other side through a narrow canyon continued for the rest of the day and despite headwinds I reached Toktogul by 4 pm. I found a cheap hotel, with no running water, but with a curious toilet with two holes: one in the ground and one in a chair, apparently a concession to those weak-kneed foreigners.

Toilet with optional equipment.

9.8.2004
The fine ride continued the next day with smooth road and spectacular scenery along the artificial lake. I stopped several times for a tea and fried fish, which was offered to me by two Uzbek businessmen. Soon after the start next morning, I ran into a road block due to a landslide and few km ahead I got my first front flat tyre - first one after cumulative 5500 km. Snake bite again - I really ought to buy a better pump. Apart from that it was a great day, not truly easy going as the road was undulating up and down all the way, but fine scenery and some speedy descents made up for the climbs.

Good road along the Toktogul reservoir with fine views.

Just before the dam a series of unlit tunnels with some deep potholes variegated the already interesting day. After the dam it was as if I'd hit the invisible wall: broken asphalt, potholes, gravel and road works suddenly reduced my speed to a half. I didn't know at that time, that it was going to last more or less to the chinese border. I stopped at a STOLOVAIA (restaurant) for a tea and pilmen (a soup with meat dumplings). A policeman from the checkpoint came in for a drink. He told me one German cyclist was here the day before, and then, as if that piece of information was invaluable for me, he asked me to give him a present. Strange. Or maybe he was just exercising his communication skills. He didn't stay long enough to ask me the usual questions: (1) why am I riding a bike? (2) am I getting paid for that? (3) why am I alone? (4) why am I not married? I had to deal with some of these questions though; they were posed by the bar-keeper, but since he invited me to share a watermelon, I made an effort to answer him politely. After Tash Komur came a 30 km stretch of roadworks. Gravel, clouds of dust lifted by passing trucks and mud where the trucks were soaking the road. It was evening already when I came to Kochkor Ata, a dirty place that I disliked immediately. I locked myself in the gloomy hotel room, made myself busy by patching the tube and fiddling with the handlebar, then went to sleep.

Rather fragile wheels don't hinder these Ladas to race on rough roads.

11.8.2004
The first part of the day went in pushing along on a rough road with innumerable Ladas beeping and zooming past me with incredible speed. I had a thought that maybe that's a religious issue. Maybe there's a sentence in Koran which says "Thou shall not see heaven if thou drive at 90 km/h or less". I had a break near Jalal-Abad, when an Uzbek company invited me to share the plov (a traditional Uzbek rice mix) - or what was left of it. The port-parole of the group questioned me thoroughly (see typical questions above), then gave me his address to contact him after I had arranged for his Slovenian visa. Then he would come to Slovenia to visit me and we shall eat lamb (which I as a host should provide and kill), drink vodka and generally have a good time.

Sharing a plov with Uzbek truck drivers.

A good road continued from there on, albeit with a tough climb, at the end of which I was, to my surprise, already in Ozgon. Finding a GOSTINICA (hotel) was easy, but finding an open one not so much. A nice guy in nice clothes came and invited me to stay in his office while waiting for a hotel manager to wake up. We talked a bit, I worked on his computer a bit, then he gave me 4 pages of his freshly started novel to translate it from Russian to English and send him the translation by mail. I had a glimpse at the novel's title: SHORPO (a lamb soup). Maybe that was a cookbook. Soon the company grew bigger, but not to my liking, since kids started squeezing certain parts of my bike and started cracking jokes when I tried to prevent it. I went on to find another hotel, and I found only a brothel. I had enough of this town. I jumped on bike and descended to the river in the direction of Osh. It was getting dark. Three young men were sitting by the river, waiting for something to happen. I asked them if they knew for a spot to put my tent. They led me to a wagon where a father of one of them was staying (as a night guard, as I understood). He suggested that I sleep in the wagon, but it was hot and swarming with mosquitoes inside, so I opted for a tent. They invited me for a dinner (a plov again, they were Uzbeks too) and tackled the question of Kyrgyzstan's poverty. Why did I choose to come to this poor land? A son would do anything to leave the country. Can I help him in getting the working visa? The plov get stuck in my throat. I'd rather pay for it and not listen to this. I'm slowly getting enough of this 'directional hospitality'.

Whenever I longed for some tea and nan (bread), I'd just step in one on these huts.

12.8.2004
The road to Osh was catastrophic. The 10 km section of roadworks was the culmination of evil. I was relieved when I saw the sign: Osh 3 km. There was an irrigation stream at the edge of the cotton field where I washed the dirt and sweat of the day, before entering the city. I sent some e-mails and then went for a hard earned beer.
13.8.2004
The road goes gently but steadily upwards. There's lot of opportunities to stop and refresh in the river that floats in the opposite direction. Around noon I stop for a watermelon which I share with two Kyrgyz men. Soon after that a uniformed men stop me, but he turns out to be a bored Russian ex-solder who is looking for someone to banter. Then there comes Chyrchyk pass, not too hard and with a bowl of kumis at the top waiting for me.

On the other side of Chyrchyk pass.

When I roll over the top, awaiting a splendid joy of descending, I encounter one of those stone sections where your downhill speed is about the same as the uphill one. I squeeze the brakes as much as I can and yet feel the jerk up my spine every time the tyre hits a stone, in fear of a flat. Midway downhill the rear rim starts to wiggle; I assume it went out of true in these rough conditions. Finally the road improves a bit and I coast towards Gulcha with temperature increasing every downhill turn. I got in hot and shadeless Gulcha around 3 pm. I found a GOSTINCA, very cheap and with two Kyrgyz girls who spoke excellent english. They were there on a 'Golden Goal' project, educating the Kyrgyz villagers about the procedures and risks of leaving the country to find work in Kazahstan or Russia. When I set about to re-true my rear rim, I found to my horror, that the rim was OK, but the tyre had worn down at one spot nearly to the tube, had twisted and that apparently was causing the wobble. I patched the tyre with duct tape from inside and with a tube patch from outside, hoping that it would last as long as possible, before I resort to my spare narrow tyre (700x20). The next day I rode carefully, inspecting the tyre every few kms, but it took the pounding just fine. That was a day of the Taldyk pass. Quite difficult climb with truly terrible road - a thick layer of dust covering pebbles and potholes. I'd say it would be an impossible ride in wet conditions. Fortunately this time the road was paved on the downhill side, so I let go off the brakes all the way to Sary Tash where I raced directly into the arms of GOSTINICA's owner who carried me and my bike inside a cozy warm room with hot tea and not-so-hard-to-break bread.

Glimpses of eastern Pamirs, the Tadjik border.

15.8.2004
The final stretch to chinese border was awaiting me today. By all accounts it was a section of bad roads, but after what I've been through in the last several days, I was not much impressed. A checkpoint at the end of the village, then a slow, careful ride, frequent glimpses on the white mountain range of eastern Pamirs and whistling marmots to make me company. I almost made it trouble-free, until 7 km from the border when the rear tyre finally blow out. I changed it with a folding spare and soon had another flat. I walked the final kilometer to the Nura village, where I got water to wash the dirt, a meal, a room and news in Russian on TV. I swapped the front and rear tyre, patched some tubes, then went to sleep, quite satisfied with that day. It was a quick ride to the border next morning, but not without trouble, for as much as I was careful, I had one more flat on front and I even fell, scratching my elbow and knee. Crossing the border was straight-forward and soon it was riding on paved, smooth, quiet Xinjiang highway. I loved the vast desert feeling about it and felt all my bike-related troubles were over.

A flat with a view.

17.8.2004
The road to Kashgar had more climbs than I expected, but it was an interesting day with some good chinese food in a restaurant with live fish swimming in the toilet, an hour of riding with the wind following the storm, encounter with two dutch cyclists, a Tour-de-France-like racing when I realized Kashgar was 50 km farther than I calculated, a ride on unfinished freeway, another front flat, a night search for a hotel in a surprisingly large town and finally a shower, clean clothes, dinner and a beer. After 12 days of cycling I took a rest day to try some site seeing and walking along the wide Kashgar streets. I tried finding a 700 tyre, and found one which was quite expensive, but fortunately too wide for my racing bike. One day of rest and frequent expeditions up and down the stairs to my room at 4th floor exhausted me enough, so that I decided to go cycling on KKH tomorrow morning.

Typical mud hut in Xinjiang.

19.8.2004
After about 80 km of good roads, not so good roads and frequent and unnerving bypasses due to road works, I came upon amazingly smooth road up the Ghez canyon. It was a true delight. I enjoyed the rest of the day pedaling along the gentle incline with beautiful views of the wide Ghez river bed, the steep rocks on the right and colorful mountains at the far left side. At the end of the day, when gradients become steeper, I found a place for my tent beneath the road in a valley with a lookout on Kongur shan massif.

Excellent road and scenery along the Ghez canyon.

The rain fell during the night and in the morning I saw my bike in water and my tent in mud. After a messy packing up I waited the sun to reach 'my valley', then continued up along the now rather steep but still excelent road. Soon I came on a barren gray plateau (Subash plateau I assumed) with a lake or a kind of marshes from which the Ghez river originated and floated. Good cycling followed up to Karakol lake. This place didn't impress me much, maybe because of a clouded day, and after a quick stop to get some oil for the chain, I continued further, up the unnamed pass (Subash?, Ulugrabat?), actually the highest point of my trip slightly above 4000 m. The pass itself was easy going, but I frequently looked back, keeping an eye on a dog, that followed me undecided whether to attack me or not. As I was on the top, black clouds started to gather from the Tadjik side and I hurried down towards Tashkorgan without much delay. The following 50 km were quite an adrenalin ride, since I was pushed by the strong wind preceeding the storm on the paved but potholed road. At times when I reached the wind speed at about 40 km/h, it was a strange and exciting feeling racing down in a complete lull trying to avoid frequent holes and stones. 25 km from Tashkorgan the road turned left along the mountain range then right into the secret passage through the mountains and along the peaceful river valley all the way to Tashkorgan. It was an amazing day, probably the highlight of the trip, and I celebrated it with a copious meal at a chinese restaurant and a room with TV.

Yesssss, I did it. At the summit of Ulugrabat pass, the highest point of the trip at 4098 m, between Karakol lake and Tashkorgan.

21.8.2004
As it frequently happens, the best day was followed by one of the lowest points of the trip. I set out to the return trip to Kashgar. Exiting the river valley and coming to the vast plane, I saw a kind of 'tourist resort' with few yurts and tables on the grass and decided to treat myself to a morning tea in a chair under the sunshade. As I parked my bike and turned to the stalls, a dog rushed silently from behind, grabbed my left calf, shook and grunted for a moment and then run away. It all happened so quickly, that I only noticed it was a white dog. It had seated its teeth quite deeply. I washed the wound with few liters of water, covered it with plaster, took some antibiotics (actually an anti-malarial drug) and eat and drunk something while waiting for the bleeding to stop. Then I just went on towards Kashgar. It was slow pedaling against the gradient and slight wind, and everything was worsened by the pain in the leg that grew bigger towards the end of the day. By the time I got to Karakol lake I was not able to walk properly. I arranged for accommodation with dinner and breakfast and I rode a bike for few tens of meters between the yurt and the huts, rather than limping that distance. The night in the yurt was warm despite the fact that it wasn't heated. I had some troublesome irrational dreams though, which was not surprising. I intended to cycle to Kashgar the next day, however at 7 a.m. it was gray, cold and rainy outside. As it often happens in the mountains, the weather changed abruptly, the sun was already shining at 9 a.m. and fortunately the pain in the leg lessened a bit.

Bitten by a dog or not, a ride in the Ghez canyon is always spectacular.

I packed in a hurry and by 9:30 I was already racing towards Ghez canyon helped by considerable tailwind. The ride down the Ghez canyon was as spectacular as two days before, downhill this time, even though with occasional headwind. Approaching Kashgar I somehow managed to miss the right road and ended up coming to the town from the north, on the same dusty road that I came the first time. This prolonged the trip for 20 km and I came to the hotel by night once again. This time I got a room on the 5th floor - this should be a good exercise for my leg.
23.8.2004
Some serious errands were waiting for me today - I felt not like being on vacation. First, I went for a breakfast - tea and meat dumplings with piquant sauce for 5 juan - this should give me enough strength for the rest of my businesses. Then a visit to the travel agency to arrange for the transportation to chinese border at Torugart. Unsuccessfull visit the first time. I returned to hotel where I got a chinese lady to write down a message for a doctor about the dog accident and my desire to get a rabies shot. The clinic happened to be near the hotel. The nurses and the doctor were all delighted, even amused, when they saw the note, they took a look at my leg, cleaned and bandaged the wound and gave me some antibiotics. This was not exactly what I was looking for, but it appeased me for the rest of the day, until I searched on the net under "rabies" and found some alarming news about the spread of this disease in China last year.

In Kashgar market.

Next morning I went to the clinic again, insisting that I get a vaccine. A number of translators with varying degree of the knowledge of english filed before me, until finally a men came up whom a connection between the words 'dog' and 'disease' was not unknown. The doctor and the nurses suddenly became enlightened, shouting at me that I should get a shot as soon as possible. After 3 hours they got the vaccine and gave me the first shot. I took the remaining 4 ampoules, after some bitter discussion and their unwillingness to give them away. Then I sorted out about the Torugart pass, bought two syringes in order to give myself two next shots and went for a dinner, quite satisfied with the way I arranged things. I had few days before the Torugart trip. Most of the time, I just walked up and down the same streets on a tour-de-Kashgar. One day I had enough of this and cycled about 60 km eastward. On the way back I stopped at Kashgar bazaar and got my wallet stolen.
27.8.2004
In the morning of the Torugart trip I gave myself the second rabies shot in the shoulder. This was the first time I ever did such a thing - it was not without trouble, but there was not much blood and I was generally very pleased about the 'professional' appearance of the whole procedure. The Torugart trip went smoothly with the guides on both sides assisting with border formalities. There was heavy rain on the Chinese part of the trip, few times a car barely passed through the torrential flow across the road and I was more than relieved I didn't have to cycle this part.

After the Torugart pass.

At the Torugart pass the rain stopped and I choose to cycle from there on. That was not the best choice, I guess. As soon as I started the rain started too, then turned to snow and it was not long since I was wet and cold, riding on bad gravel road full of puddles. As if someone was testing my limits (hey, you someone, show yourself!) I had a rear flat and after fixing it in rain, cold and mud, the front tyre went flat too. I pulled to the house nearby in search of a shelter to fix the flat, but after we exchanged few words, I decided to stay for the night for 100 soms (2.5 US$), including some tea and food. Again, not the best choice, I guess. The kids of this family (I nick-named them Frankenstein) started rummaging in my backpack as soon as I left it unattended and stole chocolates I brought from China. They even stole part of my tools, but it took me two days to find that out. Inside the house tea was served with nan and then vodka came to the table. Many people entered and left the room and I was not clear who the master was in this house. It turned out to be a very quiet man who only bacame aggressive when everybody left. For some reason he didn't like me and I didn't like him because he asked too many too personal and too provocative questions. However, I beard that company until we went to sleep. In the night I woke up to see the room lightened by a full moon on a clear sky. It meant the morning will be fine. I was relieved. In the morning the man was quiet, apparently his anger evaporated together with vodka during the night. Still, the housewife demanded the double of the agreed sum for their services. We settled for something in between and I left their home with declined esteem for the people of this land.

Just finishing the trip. The last days before Bishkek.

28.8.2004
The main adventures were behind me, so it seemed, and I routinely cycled on mostly rough roads towards Bishkek. I was skeptical about everybody, I didn't answer any more greetings, the 'hello' and 'tourist' shouts, I didn't look at people and I hastily threw stones at dogs that frequently ran towards me. There was another pass above 3000 m - the Dolon pass - and after that it was just rolling down, but in much colder and changeable weather than the one I started in about one month earlier. I also gave myself another rabies shot, a very messy thing it turned to be this time. After few days of rattling on rough surfaces I came to Bishkek and found a nice place to sleep. The next day I set out to investigate the city. I cruised on city streets, watchful for both minibuses that can pull in and out in front of you any time and the potential danger of falling into sewage grating. But I felt in control, victorious and self-confident. I should have known that that's about the time when most unexpected and bad things happen. And it happened: I went to send some e-mails and left my bike locked, but not locked to a tree, fence or something unmovable. From my computer I could even see the bike if I bent a bit. But after five minutes when I looked back, the bike was gone. My reliable, fast, beautiful bike.

Homage to my bike. I'll have a hard time finding a better one.

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Potopis

Daljši potopis je na voljo samo v angleščini - v slovenščini nameravam objaviti članek v kakem časopisu.