Kyrgyzstan on Tour and at Speed

Words & Photos: Brian Alder

Where are you going?
Kyrgyzstan.
Oh, Kazakhstan.
No, Kyrgyzstan.
Hmm, where’s that?
Between China and Kazakhstan, it’s the most eastern of the Stans in Central Asia.
Oh yeah, great.

It seems pretty much every conversation about Kyrgyzstan goes somewhere along those lines, with looks of bemusement turning to disinterest. I’d always been keen on exploring this Central Asian state, as my mountaineering background had me interested in its peaks for many years. 7000 m mountains like Khan Tengri, Peak Pobedy and Peak Lenin are a big deal in the mountaineering world. Since the story of the kidnap of Tommy Caldwell and his friends in southern Kyrgyzstan became more widely known after the movie Dawn Wall, I’d have thought that might have put Kyrgyzstan on people’s radar, but not so it seems.

I finally got the chance to visit in 2015, following a suggestion I made in the Escape Adventures office about new destinations for cycle tours. John Etherington scoped the route and then ran the inaugural tour in 2014. I was lucky enough to head over the following year with Ash Peters to lead the tours. We returned the following years before the Covid pandemic put a hold on things. In the meantime, Nelson Trees started the Silk Road Mountain Race, a 2000 km long bikepacking race that explores the outer regions of the country by connecting long forgotten Soviet roads with numerous high passes. It has become one of the premiere events in the bikepacking world, so when the chance came to lead an Escape Adventures tour and take part in the race, I was eager to put my hand up.

Alice Baker, my fellow guide, and I arrived in the capital Bishkek a few days before the tour got underway. The July heat was oppressive, but the sight of the glaciated mountains that backdrop the city spoke to the adventures ahead. It was comforting to see familiar sights after a few years away, and note how the city seemed more modern, vibrant and younger. I’d always liked Bishkek, with its tree-lined avenues and bustling but not busy demeanor.

After an initial “get to know you ride” into the mountains behind town with our riders, we had a quick transfer south to where the tour really started. It’s one of my favourite days: dusty, corrugated roads, mountains as far as you can see and deep gorges with wild, powerful rivers. Our accommodation was a guest house in the small village of Kizyl Oi, which is a family’s home the rest of the year. In situations like this you are lucky enough to have a glimpse of rural life in Kyrgyzstan. Its simplicity, its harshness. It’s a privileged perspective that, as travellers, we can experience but don’t need to endure.

A few days later as we camped in a remote valley, a farmer called by for a chat. His sheep and horses were grazing on the hillsides and river flats around camp. Eric, one of our drivers was adept at winning over locals, and soon we were getting riding lessons of the horse variety, much to our visitor’s amusement. For the Kyrgyz, riding a horse is as natural as walking, however we were much more adept at riding bikes!

Horses are a huge part of the life in Kyrgyzstan, providing transport, sport and sustenance. Hosts will commonly offer you kumis, a fermented horse milk as a mark of hospitality. My experience with kumis is that it often results in gastro issues, so this time when we arrived at the famous Son Kul and were greeted by a kumis ceremony, I drifted into the background. Son Kul is a lake at 3000 m, set in a huge basin surrounded by mountains. In summer, families bring their sheep and horses there to graze the jailoo, the high pastures. It’s outrageously picturesque and is quite rightly on every tourist’s checklist. We were lucky enough to have two perfect days as we traversed the basin, taking in a relic of Kyrgyzstan’s nomadic past.

By the time we arrived on the shores of Issuk Kyl, the huge inland sea that dominates the eastern region of Kyrgyzstan, tummies had recovered from the kumis experience, and everyone was ready for some thicker air and hot weather after a week in the mountains. It’s a strange experience swimming in a 'sea' in a desert-like environment, surrounded by glaciated mountains. A few fun days riding around the lake brought the trip to close, with a memorable lunch listening to a radio commentary of an All Blacks’ test match… needless to say there were many puzzled looks from the locals!

While Alice departed for Kenya to lead another Escape tour, I moved house to an apartment in suburban Bishkek. I had organized to work remotely for a month until the Silk Road Mountain Race started in August. Existing in a foreign culture without a common language is always a challenge, and despite the wonders of Google Translate, that still proved to be the case. I managed to get out for some great rides into the mountains behind the city, but the constant very high temperatures made any serious training difficult. As the race got closer fellow competitors Ben, Joe and Rufus arrived from New Zealand, bringing some much-needed energy and enthusiasm. After a big preparation ride, suddenly the adventure was upon us.

The Silk Road Mountain Race is an unsupported bikepacking race, meaning you need to source all your own supplies and needs once the race starts. Due to the very remote nature of sections of the course there are three checkpoints, that not only add a level of safety, but also serve as crucial resupply points. The course spends much of its time over 3000 m, so acclimatisation plays a big role. From my experience in mountaineering, I knew I dealt with altitude pretty well, which proved to be the case. However, I was much more worried about the extreme heat and lack of water and resupply on route.

The first few days were extremely challenging, with very hot conditions in the valleys and huge mountain passes to scale. The heat really did me in. On the third and fourth days I stopped early in towns, got a bed and then rode out well before sunrise to beat the worst heat of the day. Surprisingly, I managed to work my way up the field with this approach and after five days was sitting in the top thirty in a field of 175 starters and leading my self-created “old man” category. Joe Nation and Rufus Wenlock from Christchurch, part of the new breed of athletes that have been attracted to bikepacking ultras, were mixing it up at the front of the race, much as I expected.

After a particularly tough day riding up the Arabel Valley for 150 km, I crested the pass at close to 4000 m with hail and lightening threatening on the peaks around. A recent storm cell had left the track a muddy mess, and progress was reduced walking, then bike carrying. Finally, just on dusk, with Robbo and Ivan, riders who I had yoyo’d with over the past few days, we reached a major road and the 50 km descent to Lake Issuk Kul and the haven of Checkpoint 3. We raced the storm down the valley into the night, mud obstructing our vision and dimming our lights, arriving at the checkpoint plastered head to toe in the gooey muck. What a relief.

The next morning, we were confronted with another huge climb to Tosor Pass at 4000 m. I could see Will just up the road when I noticed my bike felt weird. Sure enough, the cranks were difficult to turn. Ivan rode past as I was pulling my bike apart to investigate, and I confidently told him I’d see him at the top. But it was not to be. The bearings in the bottom bracket had seized in the mud from the night before, and although I back tracked and managed a fix, when I set off again later in the day, it was evident the damage was much deeper. I sat in the evening sun and thought about what was important to me right now. I decided I’d had enough, battling slowly to the end wasn’t what I was here for.

A shower and taxi ride later, I found myself sitting on a beach across the lake at the race finish with a beer in hand. With me were Joe and Rufus, who had blitzed the field to finish first and third respectively. We spent a few days in recovery mode, enjoying the sun and constant stream of food, welcoming in riders and sharing stories. And I was happy. Happy to have had the privilege to spend two months in the amazing country that is Kyrgyzstan, happy to have met and shared it with so many great people and happy to have pushed myself beyond my own expectations and come home smiling.