Mountains and Meadows: Biking Kyrgyzstan’s Silk Road
As soon as we crossed the border from Kazakhstan into Kyrgyzstan, everything turned green and lush.
Rest day in Karakol means laundry day. The hotel would wash and dry all of our stuff together and try to remember what item belonged to which person via a handwritten itemized list. Needless to say we always ended up with someone else's bike shorts, T-shirt, or socks. Thankfully we never had an underwear mix-up.
Joan and I rocking our "Kalpaks" or Kyrgyz felt hats with our new friend at camp. Out of respect, tradition says you should never put your Kalpak on the ground and must sleep with it next to your head, not your feet.Source: Photo by: Gerald Mueller
Kyrgyz nomads call the Tien Shan mountains home during the summer. I'll never forget passing one nomad village where the men were gutting a horse on one side of the road, with the women making horse meat sausage on the other side. And let's just say kumis or fermented mare's milk is an acquired taste.
Over 6 hours of bone busting gravel up and over a huge mountain pass meant we were estactic to happen upon a tiny store where were could sit inside on the dirt floor out of the baking sun and drink a liter of Asia Cola in one go.