Marching About

 Some people, on finding out that I am from the US, will ask for my opinion on Biden vs. Trump. I cannot have any meaningful political conversation in Russian, and even Google translate is woefully deficient when trying to explain things like threats to democracy, checks and balances and the erosion of separate but equal branches of government. My interactions are purely anecdotal, I don’t know what kind of news these people consume or if their views are at all representative of any segment of the population. They are just people who would talk to a random westerner riding his bike through their country. But some themes have emerged through these conversations: When they ask how Biden is as president, they ask if he’s not too old and feeble to be president. I can only point out that he is better than the alternative and even if he did nothing in a second term, it would be preferable to backsliding. They said they like Trump because he tells it like it is and is straightforward, cit...

  Although the ride from Ayni to Iskanderkul was only 30 miles, it was also in the mountains. That means that I had a lot of climbing to do, a total of 5100ft, in a relatively short distance.   Where the Iskander meets the Zarafshon I rode along the main rode towards Dushanbe for about 10 miles before turning off at a village. This spot was where the Iskander river met the Zarafshon river, along which I had been riding since Panjakent. The Zarafshon is very brown and cloudy, while the Iskander is a bright emerald green. The joining of the two rivers was remarkable because of the clash of colors as they rushed to blend together, ultimately resulting in the Zarafshon’s minerals taking over, leaving the water dark and obscure, rushing down the valley.   I began the climb to Iskanderkul. I was surprised at how developed the area was. It felt remote, yet there were many houses and small villages, and even a couple of small convenience stores. After about 8 miles, th...