MY JOURNEY, MY RACE ……
Rolling out of Osh at midnight under a big full moon for the 4th edition of the Silk Road mountain race with a police escort was a surreal experience.
After the neutralised start all riders were let free and meandered into the hills in a southerly direction leaving the city’s comforts behind. Riders jumped to and fro with excitement and adrenaline to burn. I kept it steady, there was little chat among the riders, and everyone seemingly focused on themselves. Looking back at the weaving trail of headlights was a sight to behold on this warm night in southern Kyrgyzstan.
Many hours passed before I reached the base of the mountain and the real climbing would begin. I was feeling good, I was in my rhythm, alone in my thoughts, dwarfed by these mountains shadowing me. I was so happy to finally be here, to finally be racing this race that I entered first in 2020, but pandemic related issues meant I could only get here now. I did not care, this was perfect.
The first light of a new day arrived, the sun hit the peaks and still I climbed. The last two hours or more to the summit was gnarly Hike a Bike. The kind that involves pulling, lifting and scrambling across big rocks and loose scree with narrow channels that simply don’t have enough room for bike and human, every muscle fibre utilized to gain forward motion on this steep incline.
It was mid-morning when I reached the summit of Jiptik Pass at 4,185 meters elevation, the highest point ever included in the Silk Road Mountain Race. I was with Rodney, a Peruvian living in Italy, he took off down the mountain and I would not see him again. I took a moment and munched on some traditional Kyrgyz bread that I had strapped to my seat pack. A physically demanding start to the race, and now I was looking forward to descending.
Across the huge valley was Mt Lenin, a 7,000-meter-plus mountain sitting majestically on the border with Tajikistan.
Loose steep rock and scree on the downside meant it was not all rideable, for me anyways.
Soon enough though I was bombing down narrow singletracks, connecting valleys and river systems before eventually opening up into a dry arid landscape under a hot afternoon sun. Passing by Yurt camps and wild horses, riding alongside crystal clear mountain streams, I absorbed my surroundings with immense gratitude and felt the bubbling excitement of the adventure to come.
The longest sealed road section of the race came next, time to nestle into my aero bars and crank out the kilometres. It was very hot as I rode through this exposed dry section, thankfully the road was not too busy.
Where would my day end? Where would I sleep after already going through a night without rest?
A punctured sleeping mat ensured it was a below-adequate sleep high in the hills above the town of Gulcha, where many riders had stopped to get a guesthouse. I packed up and rode on in the darkness, but soon I was feeling super sleepy so I laid down under some trees for a quick nap.
Arslanbob was reached after a long hot day and gradual climbing, with a couple of steep pinches to sting the legs, 525kms into the race, this was checkpoint 1. As I left the checkpoint after some proper food, to get a guesthouse James Hayden rolled in. After a brief chat, I could tell he would not be stopping long, However, my mind was not swayed, I knew a good rest would be more beneficial for me at this point than chasing the front guys.
My early start meant I was riding through the biggest Walnut forest in the world under darkness. After some rugged trails and HAB, I was spat out of the trees as the first rays of light were manifesting behind the hills. Some fast roads to lower elevation and soon I was crossing a wickedly constructed bridge that hung magically over a big river gorge.
I made sure to resupply before heading onto the slopes of the next mountain as I knew it was a big one and the next town was well beyond this obstacle. Many hours passed before reaching the summit of the huge Kaidamo pass and a super fun descent followed. I enjoyed this fully rideable pass, I was feeling super good after my replenishing sleep last night. Three racers were ahead of me, I craned my neck looking up at the switchbacks above thinking I might see one of them, I looked down to where I’d come from, but nobody to be seen, I pushed on. A long fun descent, passing many more yurts and animals, and a few more climbs before eventually reaching Kazarman as the sun was dropping hazily behind the mountains.
I came to Kyrgyzstan 9 days before the race to acclimatise and I had been in Kazarman so I knew what was available and where to go. I had ridden here from the capital Bishkek over some high passes over 3 and a half days. I did not feel super great during these days, which i put down to adjusting to everything, the elevation, the food, the time zone, culture etc. I really feel these days helped a lot when it came to race time.
From feeling super good, suddenly the hours after dark were a slog as the gradual upward gradient and poor road surface drained the energy from my legs. It was a dark haul through what felt like a monotonous land, there was no lights, no sign of humans and I was curious as to what it would look like in daylight hours. Eventually, I crested this never-ending sluggish climb and after a time there were some lights of a small town.I spotted a shelter, that looked like a bus shelter, there was lots of horse shit all around. It had a bench so I ignored the stench and got inside my sleeping bag. I awoke with a jolt in a moment when I thought I was going to roll off the bench. That was it, my sleep was over as my heart raced. I got on my bike to ride for what felt like many more hours of darkness. How long did I sleep for?
Day after day, mountain pass after mountain pass this journey took my breath away.
High fives with mountain kids, Shepherds on horseback patrolling the land, Yurt camps nestled in high meadows, the mountains everchanging, enchanting beauty every day.
The high elevations and rugged terrain of this race certainly take their toll, all the hike a bike makes it a very physical endeavour. Still, I was feeling good, I was racing my race, taking it day by day and enjoying this adventure. The mountains and epic vistas give me power, nature is medicine and empowering and I m always happy to tap into this infinite source.
Limited phone reception meant that checking the tracker was not possible for many sections. My phone remained in Aeroplane mode for most of the race. I rode alone, but always, every moment I was with nature, Immersed deeply in the beauty of this land.
Another road section on Day 4, unfortunately meant some unpleasant encounters with Kyrgyz drivers. Like many Asian countries, road etiquette is a bit different to what I’m used to and I had to question my safety on these roads. Once past the town of Naryn, it was a lot quieter as I moved towards the mountains again. A stunning long climb up a green river valley amongst the peaks brought me to a very steep push after dark. I said to myself that I would camp up once I got over this big climb. Once over the top, I looked for a flat place to pitch my tent. In hindsight, I would have been much better going lower as it was cold and windy up there and my sleep was not the best. I was up and moving again after a few hours with all my layers on to repel the biting wind.
This was an epic day riding through the long expansive and remote Arabel valley, finishing with another pass to climb. The lower slopes of the descent had some river crossings, my bike fell into one, getting semi-submerged and water entering my top tube with all my electronics. Darkness once again quenched the light as I reached easier trails on my way towards Issyk Kul, and checkpoint 2 at the small town of Tamga.
Checkpoint 2 was at a guesthouse, on arrival I saw James Hayden’s bike outside, he was sleeping. I ordered food and decided also to get a room. On checking my electronics, my plug did not work anymore so I used one from the guesthouse. My charging cable was working and my power bank was good too. I could only however charge my Wahoo computer as I slept as I only had one USB outlet.
Leaving in the morning, James’ bike was gone and Rodney’s bike was parked outside the main entrance. Sofiane had continued after getting his stamp the previous evening for a nighttime ascent over Tosor Pass with an elevation of 3,893 meters
I was soon leaving the massive lake of Issyk Kul, heading inland towards Tosor Pass as the morning light hit the mountains before me. This was another long climb, and once again I was enjoying it, these are my favourite climbs. I was feeling strong as I concentrated on my breathing and rhythm. Hopes of seeing James up ahead did not materialise, I did not know how far ahead he was.
The imagined and hoped-for fast downhill soon turned to a strong headwind that would prevail for most of the day. Long exposed roads in this dry area with the hot wind blowing in my face certainly did its best to steal my energy and it was slow going.
Now I was about to enter the most challenging period of my race.
Noticing it was time to charge my Wahoo Bolt computer, Plugging in via my USB converter from my Dynamo Hub, nothing was happening. Tried to charge my phone, but nothing. My 3-way charging cable wasn’t working, was it water damage? it worked last night? Crap! This was a lesson learned. Bring spare cables!
I had a couple of hours of charge left, and I had a bit of charge in my phone. I continued into the headwind mentally focusing on a positive outcome.
My computer died so I was now using my phone to stay on track. Night fell and I decided to camp up some 50 km before Intersection Cafe, There was no point riding there as nothing would be open so I’d have to wait until morning anyway.
I awoke to see my phone was now dead, Fuck! I have no navigation. I had to do the work to quieten my mind, and remain calm.
I peered out from my tent to see my bike covered in frost, I layered up. Thankfully this section was a straight road, I remembered this from the course notes. It was a strange feeling to be riding and not following the line on my computer, that we rely on so much.
Intersection Cafe is a main road junction with a few restaurants. I went into the first one I saw and had an instant coffee whilst trying to ask the lady, was there a shop there, hoping I could find a new charging cable. She pointed down the road, I went but there was only another eating place.
Communication is a challenge but somehow I always manage. To make it more confusing both Kyrgyz and Russian are spoken. I ordered food and more coffee and plugged in, to my surprise the cable was working, although intermittently. Was this due to my cable recovering from a soaking or was it the dodgy loose wiring from the outlet socket I was using low under the restaurant table?
I was here for more than 3 hours as I waited patiently to simultaneously charge my Wahoo and phone. There was no phone reception in this area so could not even check on the tracking page., I watched people come and go. Outside in the searing sun, I changed my front brake pads and at the same time my tummy was starting to feel a bit queasy I had no idea where I was in the race, did someone pass me as I camped last night or as I waited for my devices to charge. Frustrated and feeling very average, and after hours of waiting, I was super keen to move on.
Coming into the race I learned that following a plant-based diet could have its challenges. Kyrgyzstan is very much a meat and Dairy consuming country. Restaurants would not have much that I could eat, and communicating would be a challenge and also a time waster. Shops did not have much either, however I was able to pick up fruit and bread at times. Traditional Kyrgyz bread, Nan, is widely consumed baked in a flat tandoor oven and adorned with patterns. It’s sometimes brushed with egg yolk and milk to create a shiny crust. This did mean I was not 100% plant-based, but I was prepared to have some flexibility here.
I brought food from New Zealand, even though it meant I started with a much heavier bike than I normally would, I believe it was the best decision and contributed greatly to my overall performance and experience. I carried a lot of Tailwind Nutrition, this is a powder supplement added to water that contains Electrolytes, Carbohydrates and protein. I also brought Nut butter in single-serve packets, Pics Peanut Butter and Roam Energy nut butter, two NZ brands. I also had a few dehydrated breakfast meals from Radix that just required cold water. By the finish of the race I had pretty much used everything so I was happy with how it worked out.
I also had three proper meals at the three Checkpoints which was really great.
Leaving Intersection Cafe into the mid day sun, as my stomach churned it was hard to get going. The tough climbs were punctuated with numerous roadside stops necessary to relieve the pain and upset I was feeling in my guts. Dropping into a deep beautiful valley lightened my mood as i rode alone in my thoughts towards Parrot Pass, once again I was losing light on Day 7. I aimed to get to Checkpoint 3 at the Yurt camp on the shores of Son Kul. It was dark as a motorcycle pulled up alongside me, the rider was an Irishman now living in Andorra. We chatted for 10 minutes or so, He offered me chocolate, and I declined he then offered me some whiskey which I declined also. I knew I would soon be at the Yurt camp with hot food and hot tea available. This was an oasis on this 3,000-meter mountain plateau, I decided to take the option of sleeping in a Yurt, A fire was put on, gratefully arranged by race volunteer Urmat and the Yurt was warm after 15 minutes thanks to its amazing natural insulation.
I had the best sleep here, although way too short as I was once again up and moving well before sunrise pulling myself away from the cosy Yurt. Thankfully I was feeling better and I enjoyed the early morning riding as Son Kul Lake glistened magically as light filled the sky. I traversed the punchy climbs for the next hours before eventually reaching the road that would lead me to resupply at Cholpon. At this stage, I had not seen another racer since briefly crossing paths with James at checkpoint Two on Day 2. It truly was a solo mission.
The last major obstacle ahead was Shamsai Pass, another high mountain that I wanted to get over before dark, I had to keep moving. A long exposed climb with a few Yurts here and there, the wind was picking up and the gradient was getting steeper. The Hike a Bike began, and I tried carrying my bike across my shoulders. This was made more difficult as I had lost my ultralight Apidura backpack that I normally stuffed with gear from my front Roll and let my bike rest on, easing the pressure on my shoulders. The strong wind also made carrying tough.
A long push up a rock-strewn gully against a very strong cold wind took hours, I had all my gear on as the temperature dropped and the cloud rolled over the pass above. Visibility was now only a few meters and an eerie darkness enveloped me, I’d reached the top, it was -7, too cold to linger and no photo opportunities, it was time to go down.
The downhill only had a few rideable sections for me, due to steep loose scree, hidden rocks in the tussocks, river crossings and darkness it was slow going and losing elevation felt like it was taking an age.
The river that I had to cross numerous times was running swiftly, so getting a solid foothold and a good bike carry was crucial. My feet and knee warmers were soaking, it was cold, and I wanted to get off this mountain.
As I reached another crossing point, I stood studying the river for a safe place to cross with my headlight. Suddenly I heard voices from my left, turning my head I saw two guys on horseback heading up the mountain. They were shouting at me with hand gestures to move back upstream. I backtracked a couple of hundred meters and sure enough, the river was less angry here. One guy, I’m sure was telling me off in Russian, probably thinking what the hell I was doing. I had to wonder why they were heading up the mountain towards the pass at that time also. I was grateful to cross the river again, then there was a large rockfall to negotiate.
Eventually, my speed increased as I hit a rideable double track, the river crossings continued, however, meaning it was soggy cold feet for the night. I was happy to reach lower elevations where it was not as cold and no wind, I continued, it was going to be a long night.
Civilization appeared in the form of distant lights from an unknown town bringing with it a sense of being closer to the finish. At 12.45 am I came across a shop that was just about to close, and just as I needed a morale boost, I bought bananas, Bread, water and lemonade. A few short power naps were necessary for the final 100 km as I became weary in the dead of night.
I did come alive again on the downhill approach to Bishkek as the sun began to rise over the city of twinkling lights. Nelson Trees, race creator and resident of Bishkek popped out and we rode the last km together. It was a perfect end to my ride as I cruised through quiet streets with memories flashing through my mind, a magical land imprinted forever.
I was done, 8 days 6 hours and 35 minutes of pure adventure was complete. James Hayden was there at the finish and it was nice to have a bit of a debrief with him, it was nice to be off the bike after that challenging last 26-hour push. I think I had processed most of my emotions through the long night on the final stretch to the finish, the gratitude and joy to be completing this massive adventure gave me goosebumps. By the end, I was just tired and a bit spaced out. I went for coffee and food before going to my guesthouse and crashing out for a few hours.
I remained in Beautiful Kyrgyzstan for another week, relaxing, sleeping eating and gathering my thoughts of the race.
My race went well. One period of feeling ill along with some charging issues meant I lost time, but I’m well aware it could have been worse. I had favourable weather, nothing extreme, just some cold temperatures and a fair helping of headwind. I had zero mechanical issues, my Binary Bicycles drop bar Havok was a dream. I had no injuries or niggles and felt good for most of the race. I had one minor incident after Naryn on Day 4. Cruising along a gravel road, suddenly my bike skidded and stalled throwing me forward and sideways onto the road. It was so sudden I had no idea what just happened, blood poured from my knee and I noticed that my food pouch was wedged in between my front wheel and suspension fork. The Velcro strap had come undone at the handlebars and fallen into the wheel and got sucked in resulting in an untimely and strange crash. Zip ties were attached to both Food pouches there and then.
Much Gratitude to Nelson and his team for putting this together.
