Text and photos by Chuck Giles
Vol. 12. No. 9
It’s 2 a.m. My Soviet-style hotel room has no air conditioning and teams of cockroaches are engaged in footraces by my bed. I’m in Turkembashi, Turkmenistan with a group of 44 sanity-challenged cyclists on our way to Beijing.
We began our adventure three weeks before in Istanbul, the jumping-off point for an epic journey along the ancient Silk Road.
First, the details. We would bicycle approximately 11,000 km (6,800 miles) across eight countries over the short span of four months. Temperatures would range from 124F in Turkmenistan to 14F in China. Our lowest elevation was minus-510 feet in Turpan, and our highest was 11,860 feet when we crossed over the Taldyk Pass in the Kyrgyz Republic.
Along the route to Turkmenistan, most of the cycling conditions had been tortuous. We rode centuries, a 100 or more miles per day, through mountainous terrain across Turkey. Since valleys run predominantly north and south, we climbed and descended ridge after ridge, hundreds of them. All were demanding, some with 13% grades in hot, humid weather.
The descents were steep and over way too quickly. In general, road surfaces were good, but rough patches and potholes required constant vigilance. Afternoon cycling was frightening and dangerous, roads became super-heated and the pavement melted. At times, it felt like we were ice skating on a bike.
But if Turkey was bad, Georgia was worse. There, the pavement ended. Our first day began on a dirt steep downhill road with many embedded rocks and occasional soft spots, and to make matters worse, it rained buckets, making the road slick.
Past small, poor Armenian villages, we climbed 75 to 90 miles daily along bone-jarring roads. Our Georgian journey crested at Lake Paravani (7,000 feet) as temperatures dropped to 35F and torrential rain fell on our campsite. To add to the fun, our vodka-impaired police escorts cruised around the scattered tents of our bush camp in their Land Rover during much of the night.
In Tblisi, where Joseph Stalin spent his younger years, we discovered that the road was actually paved. It was nice riding for a couple of days until the final 15 miles, a 5,000 foot harrowing descent. Cycling at serious speeds, we dodged potholes, braked for trucks stopped on the road without reason, avoided drivers who didn’t look before merging into traffic or the occasional pedestrian who wandered onto the road. When we reached town, most of us could barely unclench our hands from our brakes.
We were ceremoniously welcomed at the border of Azerbaijan. We struggled on to the ancient city Seki. During the climb, there was more torrential rain. When we reached Seki, its streets were flowing like rivers. Eddies and swirls became so disorienting they caused a few riders to ride into ditches. We spent that night in the ruins of a caravansaray, an ancient dwelling used by travelers following the Silk Road.
After spending the next night in a bush camp, we headed toward the coast of the Caspian Sea and Baku, the Azeri capital. For the first time since leaving Istanbul, we enjoy dining on western food. To avoid Iran and Afghanistan, we had crossed the Sea in a large Russian-style ferry. Appearing to be nothing more than a pile of paint and rust, a train transported in the hold didn’t ease our concerns. But alcohol was plentiful, there was food to eat and the accommodations were acceptable.
Three weeks after leaving Turkey, we arrived in Turkmenbashi. Dominated by a desert landscape of extreme temperatures and a constant police presence, our every move was subject to scrutiny and we received repeated “guidance”. Ashgabat, the capital, has a three-story-high rocket ship featuring a gold likeness of recently-deceased ruler Saparmurat Niyazov. A collection of 10 to 15-story buildings surround the rocket. Throughout the day, his likeness rotates so his face is always toward the sun.
Leaving Turkmenistan, we pedaled to Bukhara, Uzbekistan, a fascinating old city that contains Emir Nasrullah’s infamous ‘Bug Pit’, a 30 foot hole in the ground infested with all kinds of creepy crawlies including vermin, snakes, scorpions, rats, and human bones. Anyone who angered the ruler of Bukhara was placed in this Pit to become food for its inhabitants.
Centuries ago, Genghis Khan swept through this region of Central Asia and basically leveled everything in his path. Impressed by one minaret in Bukhara, it was one of three or four objects left standing in all of Central Asia.
Our next major stop was Samarkand, Uzbekistan, the city of blue mosaic domes which served as a crossroad for camel caravans between China and Central Asia. Others might remember this city, for its dramatic backdrop of snow-capped mountains and fertile valleys, or as the domain of Alexander the Great, the region conquered by Ghengis Khan, or the city ruled by 14th century Tamerlane (Timur the Lame). It was certainly a highlight of the trip.
After admiring the architecture, we cycled to the Kyrgyz Republic, or “The Switzerland of Central Asia.” In the high mountains, cowboys herded their animals along the road. In Kyrgyzstan, we grinded over the 11,860 foot Taldyk Pass. At the summit, it snowed throughout our night in Sary Tash. When we awakened in the morning, our bikes were snow-covered, the cranks were frozen. Scraping ice off our gear, while trying to stay warm and not freeze, delayed our departure.
Finally we arrived in western China, where we visited Kashgar on our way to Turpan and the Turpan Depression. Skirting the Taklamakan Desert or “Land of Death”, we found major roadways superb; the secondary roads, however, were less commendable. Continuing east, a truly spectacular sight loomed near Jiayuguan, the western end of the 4000 mile Great Wall of China.
We had heard about the pollution problems of China, but up to now, we had not experienced it. That would shortly changed. Langzhou, which many believe is the most polluted city on earth, was our next destination. As we rode by numerous smokestacks belching gray and black pollutants into the air, breathing became difficult. Many of our cyclists wore masks. At the end of the day, we all looked like coal miners on the way home from work.
Our next memorable spot was Xi’an, another significantly polluted city. Surrounding an ancient bell tower were three Starbucks, two McDonald’s, a KFC, and a Wal-Mart. Although we all craved an American hamburger and a good cup of coffee, an ancient wall, as tall as the Great Wall, surrounding the central part of Xi’an wowed us. Emperor Qin Shi Huang, between 259 and 210 BC, after building the Great Wall, decided he needed to take an army with him to heaven. He had 750,000 people work 30 years to build the now historic collection of life-like and are life-size Terra Cotta Warriors, complete with weapons, chariots and horses. It was one of the most spectacular sights of the trip.
Our final stop would be Beijing. Once again, the pollution was stifling. Vibrant and growing, this city of 18 million residents was a fitting end to our trip. Our final group gathering was in Tiananmen Square, where an entombed Mao oversaw the conclusion of our cycling journey.
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Several of us remained for a few days, visiting the Forbidden City, the Temple of Heaven and the Summer Palace. Our final day in the Beijing area was spent walking on the Great Wall in the Simitai Region. The area is very rugged and the Wall in that area is especially spectacular.
The entire trip was difficult, daunting and long. Some people may wonder why any of us wanted to tackle it. Maybe it was because it was there and we had never done it before.
Tucson attorney Chuck Giles has cycled across the Australian continent from west to east, the length of Africa from Cairo to Cape Town, and across Europe from Paris to Istanbul. Even he admits the Antarctica would be impossible… but South America is there… and waiting.