This was a momentus day which included another change of plans.
The campsite was a morning suntrap and it was hard to leave. Maybe it’s just me but I always find it hard to leave campsites. I see no point in rushing regardless of how beneficial an early start can be. After all, I’m on holiday.
So it was muesli and coffee followed by packing up – my usual routine. It was about 500 metres across soft bumpy ground back to the “road”. I was also trying to avoid a storm coming down the valley opposite. Made it by a few minutes.
What followed was an unexciting ride towards Murghab, punctuated by meeting some great people coming the other way.
First, there was Nicola, a 60 year old Italian on a long trip. He was very pleased to find out my age. It’s great to see us seniors out here having our own adventures. Next I met a swiss and a Spanish guy. When I told them I was doing the Wakhan Valley, they shook their heads and said I was crazy, even though they had just finished it. mmm… What were they on about ?
Next was a 4wd that slowed a little until I saw that they had dutch plates. So I called out “Goede Morgen” and they stopped and laughed. Eva and Jakob are on a big trip. They gave me a stroopwafel which was crunchy in the cold weather. We must have talked for more than 30 minutes. What a lovely young couple on a huge adventure.
I pulled into Alichur, the last village for a long way. I had four days of food and filled up with water at the local well after an average meal at the one restaurant by the road. That’s where I met Frank with another Wakhan horror story. It turns out the road was so rough that he was bleeding from the butt from the constant bashing from the corrugations and rocks. Yuk ! The poor guy. While not trying to talk me out of it, he made a few cautionary points about the road and water stops. I thought. I’m pretty tough. No worries, I’ll still do it.
Exiting Alichur, I met a young Italian who said – Yes, the Wakhan is beautiful but it really is hell. mmm, seeds of doubt definitely sewn. I carried on.
The afternoon went by as I navigated the undulations south of Alichur. There was a beautiful lake to look at and the usual crazy, huge, stark rock formations.
I met Robert from Austria who is literally a ball of muscle. He was absolutely powering up the hill when we stopped to chat. He’s ridden as far as I have, in far less time but he had decided not to do the Wakhan and was very happy doing the M41 – Pamir Hwy.
The decision point was coming up at the junction not far away. When I got there, I met a German motorbike rider. When I mentioned the Wakhan he shook his head but said – I won’t try and talk you out of it but you need to be aware of some things … It had taken him 8 hours to do 150km, it was the worst road imaginable, no water for 80kms and no village for 100kms.
I thanked him and nervously turned left to start the Wakhan Valley route. It was a really really terrible road.
My intention was to ride 10kms down and camp before the pass. After 2kms, I stopped and gave myself a stern talking to.
You want to do another 98kms of this rubbish ? I simply didn’t want to bounce around for the next 2-3 full days. Nobody had really enjoyed it. Decision made, I turned around and went back to a campsite just past the junction. The 2kms return ride confirmed my decision and I was very happy with it.
The alternative wasn’t exactly easy. The next day I had to ascend a few passes, the highest being 4274m.
I camped, cooked, kept a stray dog away and reflected on my decision, happy that it was the right one.
