Today’s a big day; the literal and figurative pinnacle of the trip! It’s been coming down a good part of the night and I wake up to a blanket of snow all around. At 4300m the mornings are freezing cold, so I take it easy. Toasty in my down jacket I wait for the sun to come over the mountains, warming me up and dry the tent a bit before embarking on my quest to conquer the roof of the world, Ak Baital pass.
It’s almost 11 before I drag my loaded bike out of the pit back to the road. Thanks to some extra work yesterday, it’s only a few more k’s to the foot of the climb, and the ride is remarkably easy right up to the final stretch, where the pavement ends just as it gets steep. It starts snowing again and I ride up the muddy gravel track in a blizzard, with my retina taking a heavy beating from a fierce snowflake/side wind combo.
I’ve been cycling above 3500m for the last week, so I’d say I’m pretty well acclimatized. But even then, hitting a steep section at this altitude drowns my legs in lactic acid with a galley drummer beating the inside of my skull at ram speed.
Looking at my altimeter I’m expecting some more hairpins beyond an upcoming bend in the road, but a straight up steep section quickly helps me gain the altitude I was looking for and gives me a view on the road flattening out, cutting through the slopes on both sides. Only a few more yards and I’m there: 4655m (15,272ft) above sea level. That’s about the height of Mont Blanc…on a bloody bicycle! For months I’ve been dreaming about this moment and finally on top I make an emotional roar –more of a shriek really- into the thin air. I made it!
I quickly put on every piece of clothing I’ve brought, and like a miracle the wind dies down, it stops snowing and there’s even an attempt from the sun so spread some pale rays. This means I can take my time for some pictures and call my wife, at work back home, with the emergency satellite phone I brought. Again I wish she was here to experience this moment together… But on the other hand I haven’t had to put up with the inevitable whining during the climb, other than my own. Thin silver lining?