Marching About

 I was out bright and early. It was supposed to be 110 today, and it was already in the 90’s when I left at 5:30AM. I made a quick stop after about 20km for a breakfast of sunny side up eggs and Russian sausages, or possibly hot dogs. I just asked for “завтрак”, Russian for breakfast and that’s what I got. It was the only thing available and I needed to eat to keep myself from bonking. This was my third straight day riding and I was about to finish up 200 miles on this stretch. The road is ok, a little stressful because I’m still on the highway. The distances between villages are very long and I’m riding with the vast prairie on my north side, and the mountains to the south. I rode into Taraz at about 10AM and went to the center of town where I met with my Couchsurfing host, Alexander. Alexander is 51 and owns several local businesses; a couple of supermarkets and a restaurant. His demeanor in general is a bit nervous and distracted - I think he might have a slight addiction to online

 I tore down all of my stuff in the morning, ate some more plov, and was on the road by 5:30.    Cows coming through my campsite as I tore down my tent I was only 5 miles from the border so I didn’t want to lose too much time. Fortunately, I was early enough and avoided the lines, this crossing didn’t take more than 20 minutes. Although they did insist on scanning my bags, which they hadn’t done at the last stop, but other than that I sailed right through and was back on the road. Crossing the border back to Kazakhstan  I stopped at a store for a quick refresher of iced tea and energy drink and started riding. On the maps I couldn’t see a whole lot between the border and Taraz. Some dusty towns, but I figured I would just ride as much as possible and close the distance.  I stopped for lunch in Lugovoy and even had lunch in an air conditioned yurt. I ate some manti but sort of dozed off in the air conditioning until the owner came and said something about me sleeping there, so I changed

 I left Bishkek early, although I had to prepare my stuff and bring everything down from the 9th floor, so I ended up leaving around 7. Riding out of the city was nice and easy, since Olesia and Artëm live close to the foothills, I had a nice 5-mile descent as I left. Outside of Bishkek were endless suburbs. This is pretty nice riding, because the cars are cautious and slow. I still had the nice view of the mountains to the south, and I rode straight through to Kara-Balta, about 75km from Bishkek. Kara-Balta is the crossroads between Bishkek and Osh, another important Kyrgyz city. I had opted not to go to Osh when planning this trip, just to give me some more time to get used to riding before tackling those very intimidating mountains. Arrival in Kara-Balta There wasn’t a whole lot going on in Kara-Balta. I hung out in the main park downtown until it got unbearably hot. Then I went to an air-conditioned cafe and ate some more Ashlyan-fu and waited out the heat. It was scorching hot eve

 I decided to spend an extra day in Bischkek to finish calibrating and recover a little bit from the previous long rides and the heat. Alessia and Artëm had to work, so I took their suggestions and rode my bike around the city for most of the day. My first stop was what they described as either “the great emptiness museum,” or “the museum of the great void.” It was located back along the foothills of Bishkek in a random neighborhood with dusty, pothole-ridden streets. Although I was following the map, I was becoming very skeptical that I would find, something resembling a museum in this area. Arrived at the address, I was surprised to find a concrete bike rack where I could attach my bike. The rose of houses looking for something that might resemble a museum. Alessia had described it as a very, very very strange place. There was a house that had a bunch of Kyrgis writing on the walls. It appeared as if I had arrived at the museum, but it wasn’t entirely apparent that it was open. I tri

 My hosts in Bishkek are Artëm (pronounced Art-yom), his wife Olesia, his son of about 6, Vladimir and their Maine-coon cat, Chester. They live on the 9th floor of one of the high-rise Soviet block apartments that comprise the 12th micro-district of Bishkek. It’s on the far south side of the city, up against the hills near the edge of the city.  View from my room There are probably about 12-15 identical buildings, only some of which are numbered (and sometimes the numbers are plastered on a random spot on the building, but certainly not over any doors). The first time I arrived, I had to ask several people which building was “house-9” and even then, I had to ring at multiple entrances until I found the right one. Fortunately, I could fit my bike into the elevator! Our first day together was Sunday. It was extremely hot and we didn’t really start until 11AM. Just as well, I was wrecked from my ride the day before and was happy to hang out in bed. I had my own room, most likely displacin

 I woke up at the crack of dawn - about 4AM. I slept hard, but was about as rested as one can be after sleeping next to a highway with trucks rolling by all night. I gathered my things, ate some of the bread and an apple that was brought to me the night before warming up and heading out. I was hoping to beat the heat and get into Bishkek by around noon. Leaving the Almaty Oblast (like a province) and entering the Jambyl Oblast in Kazakhstan My legs were not as fresh as the day before. Actually they were already feeling like jelly when I started. I rode the gravel on the side of the highway for about 10 miles before I hit the construction zone, after which the road went back to 4-lanes on cement blocks. This was the last leg of the A-2 until I got to Kenen, the turn-off town for Bishkek. I was very happy to get off the highway and onto a road with 90% less traffic. Of course, heading south, I had to cross the mountain range separating Kazakhstan from Kyrgistan. It was probably the lowes

I got up early to start my ride. Elmira (Murat’s mom) and her husband saw me off. They were very generous and tried to give me a bunch of road snacks as I left. They gave me a large bag of “khurt” (қүрт), which is dried, raw cow’s milk in candy form. For some reason it’s very salty, and I’m not a big fan, but I accepted it and headed out. I beat the rush hour traffic out of Almaty. When I had previously looked up the cycling route, the suggested route was very roundabout and wound its way through the countryside. I was a little intimidated by both the distance, and the fact that there didn’t appear to be a lot in these places and I was worried about finding somewhere to stay. After some googling I found a bike tour blog that claimed to have ridden on the A-2, the main highway out of Almaty. Riding out of Almaty Riding on the side of the highway wasn’t amazing, the road is pretty good so the cars were quite fast. But there was a shoulder, and the entire way to Targap was a 4-lane highwa

 Sometimes when I travel I come across interesting, and often comical, depictions and ideas of the west. Especially from people who have never been to the United States and may only have vague notions based on the news and films - in this case, Westerns. Someone who had never been to the US and did not speak a word of English told me about a goal that they have to open a  Western-Themed Texas BBQ restaurant in Kazakhstan. The restaurant has an origin story about how it was created.  Now, rather than paraphrase for you, I’ve taken the Google translate version from Russian. I think the diction helps tie it together. The story is about James, a cowboy from Texas: James was haunted by the dream of finding his goal in life. And he decided to go on a journey to know himself. One day, while in one of the many cities of his country,  James meets a girl in a gun store. Word for word, and the young people begin to feel sympathy for each other. Moreover, the young lady declares that the brave cow

 A popular activity in Almaty is to go to the mountains. They are right there, after all. There is a spot called Madeo (Мадеу) that’s very accessible from the city, you can even take a bus there. Of course, it’s easy to compare to Colorado, where I am most familiar with the layout of the mountains. What struck me first was the amount of development - even as we drove up, most of the way was dotted with houses and hotels. The Madeo itself is a large speed-skating rink with a bunch of other recreational activities available. Signs advertising skiing, hang gliding, and downhill mountain biking are all over the place. There is a little cafe outside of the skating arena and about 8 coffee stands.  Murat and I went on a “hike.” It was not a standard hike on a trail - it started out as a large staircase incline with about 850 steps, ending in a sort of dam structure. However, continued walking over the dam, where we walked alongside a very steep and windy road.  Murat taking the stairs straig