And then – finally – I was there. Again. Back to that one special place I’d visited so many times before. To cycle the roads I’d already pedalled back and forth too many times to count. I was in Tajikistan. What made the difference from before though was that this time my visit didn’t take place in a daydream. It wasn’t made up as an imaginary light in the tunnel to make those long last months at home pass just a tiny bit faster.
This was for real.
If at any time in my life I would actually pinch myself, this would be it. I didn’t. Instead I just stood there outside the border point, with this ridicolous smile on my face, and a heartbeat as if I was already up on the high altitude passes that I knew laid ahead of me.
‘Tajikistan…’ I let the name play around in my mouth for a bit.
‘Ta-ji-ki-stan.’
Yeah. This would be good for sure.
I spent a couple of days in the capital Dushanbe. Yet again at ‘The’ place for cyclists. And let me tell you, in Tajikistan there are many of us. The big (or pretty much the only) attraction – the Pamir Highway – is somewhat of the Mekka of bicycle adventurers, and people fly in from all over the place to take on the majestic mountain range stretching its way through of the country.
Before leaving to kick off the actual ride, I’d hooked myself up with the company of some old friends from the road. Ever since Bukhara our paths had been criss crossing, and when we caught eachother with good timing in Dushanbe, we decided to join forces up the mountains.
Karin & Fritz are German and in many ways like heavy duty bicycle tourers are most. In love with the outdoors. Endlessly curious about new cultures and ways of living. Fit like animals after months and months of pedalling. And ready to get down and dirty to get the experiences they’re looking for.
There is one difference though. They rock an average age of 60!
Every now and then I recieve emails from blog readers who in the back of their minds dream of adventures of their own. Obviously among many of my readers these dreams take form in two wheeled travels. But also in other stuff, including everything from saling across the Atlantic to opening a small cafe in their hometown.
Some are already in the planning stages of making their dreams reality, but most have one, two or a hundred big But(s)… as to why it simply isn’t possible for them.
Maybe when I was your age… But now? Impossible.
Careers stand in the way. Houses and apartments are chaining people to home. Savings are not enough. The body is not what it used to be. Risks are simply too high. And yeah! If I leave, then who would stay to… water the flowers?
For me, kicking off this completely new chapter in my life was easy. I’m young enough to not yet have the responsibilities of kids, pets, morgages and old parents to take care of. I could simply quit my job, sell my stuff – to then pack up and leave.
Karin & Fritz on the other hand? Who had (have) everything listed above, including impressive careers as a doctor and communications coach? And who definitely (sorry Fritz!) can’t still qualify into the ‘young, reckless & without responsibilities’ category?
According to them – not that much harder. Scarier – definitely. And their To do-list before leaving sure was longer than mine. But in the end, it all comes down to making the decision. That’s the difficult part. And once you’re past it, the rest comes naturally.
So to those of you, stuck at home with that big wall of But(s) blocking the way between you and whatever it is you’re secretly dreaming of. These are the people to be inspired by.
So. One sunny morning we left Dushenbe together. Headed out to get our first glimpse of the mountains we’d all been looking forward to more than any other part of Asia. All excited of course, but though noone ever mentioned it, you could tell there was some kind of nervousness in the air.
I had a similar feeling as before I started this journey in the first place. My expectations were dangerously high, and I really felt like I was setting myself up for huge disappointments. And you could tell the others were thinking just the same thing.
It didn’t take too long before we could relax tough. The first leg of the Pamirs, from Dushanbe to Khalaikhumb is a pretty demanding one. A small gravelled road leads you up to the Saghirdasht pass on 3250 meters, by far the highest one I’d climbed yet. The ride took us a bunch of days to complete, and let me tell you – it was a good one.
All inclusive camp site. Swimming pool, laundry, dish washer, water cooler. Just name it!
You know those vibrating work out machines? This is the real life version
Possibly the least neccessary road sign in the world
Slowly we climbed our way up the steep dirt road sprinkled with fist sized stones, to finally reach the most scenic pass I’ve ever been on. And once up there, it was like I finally let go of my worries.
I had gotten it confirmed. All those other times I’d been cycling the Pamirs were nothing. My imagination hadn’t nearly had capaticy enough to picture these surrounding in a way that would even be close to doing it justice. We were still only on 3 000 something meters, but I was already soaring high up on Cloud 9.
I had finally arrived.
In my Pamirs.
Woohoooooo!
Until next time,
Fredrika