Cycling Day 14: Ayni to Iskanderkul

 

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, the road suddenly got much steeper, and the houses petered out. Now I was just climbing mountains, going around switchbacks. The road quality also quickly deteriorated, so not only was I regularly climbing steep, 12-15% grades, the road was full of gravel, sand and loose rocks. When I stood to power through some of the steeper pitches, I was often thrown back into the saddle when my back tire failed to gain any traction. The lack of forward weight on my bike made the front tire elevate off the ground, but I pushed it down each time. It was a slow and arduous ride, but I finally arrived at the top, and could see the lake extend below me, nestled inside the mountains. There was an equally steep descent to get to the lake along with slippery gravel and rocks that rendered my brakes useless in some areas. I was only thinking about how I would need to climb back up the following day. 

Just before the final descent to Iskanderkul

As I completed my descent, I was immediately accosted by a man in a uniform. His badge was surprisingly in English and it read “Tajik Forest Service.” He immediately began giving me a whole speech in Russian and shoving some documents in my face. I brushed him off, telling him I just rode my bike over the pass and was tired and needed to drink water. I stood there for a couple minutes, drinking and catching my breath while he read this document to me, I couldn’t understand anything. I finally told him that I wasn’t Russian, so he turned the page to reveal an English translation. It was simply stating that there was a Forest Service day-rate for going to Iskanderkul, 26.46 Somani, a nominal fee, roughly $2. I didn’t have the exact amount and gave him 27 Somani. But he fished around for some change. He couldn’t produce the exact change and asked some of his friends who were sitting around to try to get me the exact sum, they traded coins around until he had 0.54 Somani. Does he do this with everyone who comes here? 

I asked if that was all and he said yes, so I walked back to my bike, only to have him run after me and tell me I needed to sign the permit. He filled out a slip of paper and had me sign both sides. Then he stamped it in the middle, tore off half of it and handed it to me and told me to keep it on me. Ok, I asked if that was all and he said yes…only to come running after me a third time, telling me that I had to register at the location. He held out a ledger book and showed me that he needed to take down my name and nationality. I told him my last name and began to spell it, quickly realizing that he was writing in Cyrillic, ultimately spelling my name as “Марч.”

Finally we were done and I went back to my bike. But his friends, the ones who helped him come up with my change, followed me and insisted that we take pictures together. I said ok and we stood on the bridge that crossed over the lake outlet and snapped some photos. I was pretty exhausted and it was pretty warm - not unbearably hot, as the lake is at about 7500ft, but the sun was bearing down on me and I needed to eat and rest.

The guardian's friend who wanted a picture with me in front of the lake

The lake seems like a popular tourist destination. There had been cars driving up as I rode in. I was surprised at how developed the area was, with some hotels and restaurants that had put rooms and seating areas directly on the lake. I rode to a restaurant and sat down, admiring the unobstructed view. It’s a beautiful area and the lake is a bright, emerald green. 

 The lake, Iskanderkul

The waiter gave me a menu, but when I tried to order some plov, he said they didn’t have it. I went through the rest of the items on the menu, they didn’t have any of them, only lagman (a kind of noodle soup). Ok, so I’ll have that, why bring the menu? I also drank half a gallon of water. 

I rode around the lake a little bit looking for a camping spot. I found a place, but was a little deterred by the number of bugs. There were some Russians camping there, who told me I needed to go back to the entrance and register if I wanted to put my tent there. I was too tired to bother with the runaround and went to a hotel that was right next to the camping area. One of the workers at the hotel even spoke German very well. There were a couple of other German guests there, too. They gave me a room and I went to take a nap.

I took an evening walk to check out the lake a little bit and went to the waterfall, a popular attraction at the lake. There is a short hiking trail that follows the river. The trail dead ends at a platform, likely from the Soviet era. The platform was not built to any sort of code, it seems to have just been stuck into the ground and bolted together to support a railing and some wide, cattle-guard style slats that rattled as I stepped on them. 

The platform juts out directly over the waterfall, a 150ft drop until the river continues below. A huge volume of water is jettisoned over the cliff, roaring as it shoots over the rocks and onto the water below.

As I was making my way back to the hotel, I noticed a tent with a bike standing next to it. Another cyclist who dared climb the wild road to Iskenderkul. Naturally, I had to meet this person. Her name is Marine, cycling alone for an entire year. She’s Belgian and started her journey in Istanbul. She is taking a year-long sabbatical from her job to do this bike tour. As she has a ton of time at her disposal, she told me that she’s making her way through the mountains and seeing some interesting sites along the way that were recommended by her travel book. In fact, she was not planning to go to Dushanbe the next day, but to another village, deep in the mountains in the Yagnob river valley. I asked if I could tag along, since it sounded like a fun adventure, and I still had several days before I needed to be in Dushanbe. So we planned to ride there together in the morning.

 Just before dinner, hanging out on a tapchan directly over the lake