Tajikistan 2 – A Dreamworld made of Stone, Snow and Water

 

The first part oft the Pamir highway M41 connects Dushanbe and Khorog. Principally there are two options, a northern and a southern route. Many times one of them is blocked due to landslides. On our way to Dushanbe we met some members of the American embassy who warn us about issues on the southern route. When we arrive in Dushanbe, rumours go round that the northern route is blocked. It is impossible to gather safe and more important recent information. As we are a bit in a rush because we already planned a three week visit in Germany to visit our families and apply for the Chinese visa, we decide for the northern route. Not only is it the shorter option and we have to climb less, but also we read that it provides more scenic views and we have to climb less. On the way to Khorog there are still a lot of villages so we don’t have to carry too many supplies.

 

 

We pick up Armin at his hostel and start together. The great tarmac of the road leading out of Dushanbe shows us what we are going to miss on the following 1200 km. Despite we enjoy sandy roads, washboards and gravel in different varieties. Unfortunately we never found out whether the Tajik people have as many words for gravel as the Inuit use for types of snow.

 

 

Thus not only the uphill parts are tough but even more the downhill ways. After two days our shoulders burn and we have to slow down a lot. After two days Armin and we split because he gets along even worse with the conditions than we do. Not taking care of your health might get risky in these areas. Being able to admire the stunning landscape is worth all the effort: Breathtaking mountain panorama, narrow canyons, wild mountain rivers, idyllic villages, remoteness, ... Briefly, we love it here! We can feel natures force everywhere.

 

 

This applies when we come to help one of our countrymen to pull his motorcycle back out of a river he tried to cross. One day later we meet the misadventurer again, when a landslides blocks his way. We are lucky that we are able to push our bicycles over it.

 


 

One day later we arrive at the mountain pass at 3252 m above sea level. So far our personal record, but we are aware that we are going to break it soon. Snow fields appear as well as mine signs, nothing where we like to spend too much time. Serpentine by serpentine we slowly approach the Afghan border. Before nomads invite us and provide bread and tea. Passing by villages big crowds of children surround us, jump in front of our bikes, try to grab the handlebars just to say hello. Quite dangerous, as most of them have no idea about our speed and come too close.

 

 

Just after Khalai Khumb we meet 4 cyclists coming from the opposite direction. After a little chat we realize, they are from Halle, where we lived the last decade. What a nice surprise, it’s hard to stop talking and go on cycling. Similarly surprising and nice is the next encounter: During one of our breaks at a kiosk we get invited by an English teacher to join his class and talk to his students. We happily agree and have fun during the lesson.

 

 

During the last 235 km to Khorog the road follows the river Panj, which represents the border to Afghanistan. It is not recommended to camp directly at the river, as occasionally there are rumours of gunshots during the night. With this in mind we always choose hidden places on the opposite side. Our main focus at this time, however, lies on another phenomenon: WE have to deal with an increasing number of flat tires and need to repair them almost every hour. Annoyingly many times we cannot find the cause. When we run almost out of pacience and of our garage sized pack of patches we intensify the search for the cause and discover a huge amount of tiny wire pieces hidden in the outer tires, almost impossible to see or feel. We guess we had collected them already back in Iran, where the remains of burnt car tires were lying round everywhere. On the good roads they barely caused trouble, only now with all the potholes they occasionally hit through.

 

 

During this misery a red Mercedes bus slowly overtakes us. They look at us, we look at them – then we realize: Valentin and Heidi from Darmstadt who we met in Oman before. Quite some time had passed since then and we decide to look for a common campsite to chat. Of course they are a bit faster than us and when we arrive, they already prepared pasta – wow! We talk until very late at night and as all of us go to Khorog we plan to meet again at Pmir Lodge. Two days later we all arrive there, just in time for the very exciting Afghan market. The normal market, supermarket and restaurants turn out to be more interesting to get enough food and fresh big packages of bike patches.

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