What a day !
Breakfast at the guesthouse was nice and I packed up and loaded the bike, somehow leaving my favourite merino shirt, charger and fast cables in the room – never to be seen again. D’Oh
I stopped at the local Magazin and picked up some bread as it would be 2-3 days to get up and over Torguz Toro Pass and down to Kazarman.
As is now usual, I’d researched the hell out of it and had water sources identified and possible camp spots marked.
It started easily on nice tarmac , and that continued until the 8km mark where the roadwork machinery was stationed. Well, it was roadwork without and work happening. So, it was back onto familiar bumpy rocky roads as I headed west.
There was a sharp climb into some clay hills to the north as I gained some quick elevation and had to push a bit. I felt like this was tier one. Then the road settled a bit.
After 30kms, I filtered a couple of litres of water at a stream and this would be the last until I went over the pass and down 15kms.
Then two guys in a Lada screeched to a halt beside me as I finished my lunch. One was drinker than the other and I couldn’t get away quick enough.
I was hoping to camp by a stream on the other side of the pass, but as I followed the road to the left and saw the climb ahead of me, I realised that was just a tad ambitious. Bail out option one invoked !
A 4WD came past with two Germans who asked where I was from. When I said Australia, they said – so is our vehicle. They’d shipped it from Sydney to Malaysia and had driven the rest of the way. Great guys who really wanted to help me but I had plenty of food and water already.
The climb looked daunting because it was bloody hard. I pushed a bit, rode a bit, convinced myself that another 5kms was easy, but it simply wasn’t.
Storms rolled past, thankfully depositing their wares in other valleys. I realised that I shouldn’t be worried about rain here because it’s so dry and dusty, the rain is probably precipitated by the higher mountains further up. Spoiler alert – not true.
When I made it to the camp I’d pIcked out, I searched for the best spot. The breeze has hardly noticeable so I pitched up at a spot with the best view, protected from the breeze by a ridge behind me. What could possibly go wrong ? I staked the tent and attached four guy lines as a precaution and no sooner had I done that, than a storm appeared.
It was a doozy.
I was inside the tent, arms above my head trying to maintain the shape of the tent so the carbon pole structure wouldn’t bend too much or break. After 30 scary minutes it abated but the temp had dropped significantly. That 30 minutes felt like much more. There were 3 occasions that I thought everything was going to break and end up down the hill.
So I restaked everything, looked for damage, moved the bike and got back in the tent. Dinner would be peanut butter and cheese sandwiches.
Sleep was fitful. I woke everytime there was a rustle of the tent. I guess you have to expect this sort of changeable weather – either this high – 2560m – or in Melbourne.
