#pamirs

[sleepydrummer]

The Kyrgyz nomadic pastoralist and her herd. Afghan fields, Afghanistan Silvia Alessi

[30daysx30years]

Awesome! Cyclingtips has published an article on my trip with some of my favorite shots. W I D E S C R E E N. So check it out on a monitor that doesn’t fit in your pocket. Cheers!

[rie-k-photo]

On the Chinese Border by Ninara https://flic.kr/p/2avsSoV

[cassiachloe]

An extract from one of my stories about a Nomadic family of the Pamir Highway Tajikistan: I met this family on the Pamir highway in Tajikistan. They lived way way out deep in the mountains. The Pamir itself - known as route M-41 (the second highest highway on the planet) - reaching up to 4655m lies along the border of Afghanistan separated only by a river. The road was a major route and link within the Silk Road. The traditional Pamir begins in Afghanistan - Mazar-i-sharif - and stretches through Uzbekistan, the entirety of Tajikistan, all the way through to Osh in Kyrgyzstan. I actually hitchhiked the route in its entirety. Through the greater section of Tajikistan I hitched with travelers I'd met in the Tajik capital in their car. The Tajik family we discovered somewhere near to the subsection of Tajikistan which borders China, a slither of Afghanistan -behind which is Pakistan- and only 200km as the crow flies from Delhi, India. The Wakhan Valley.. Immediately we were invited in. Taking off our shoes, their home was warm and homely inside. Carpets of animal skins and a fire over in the center. Tea was immediately warmed for us. In the beautiful hospitality of Eastern cultures homemade bread was laid out in front of us, butter from the milk of their animals and tea. The mother watched with waiting eyes for us to finish our bowls of tea immediately to take them and refill them, each time giving and receiving with eye contact and one arm placed on her elbow as a sign of respect. Nomadic families of the Pamir Highway Tajikistan Read the FULL STORY and help support my journey on https://www.patreon.com/CassiaChloe New story releasing the first of every month of human beings who Inspire me. From every corner of the globe; from nomads, to homes, to homeless, to travelers, to mothers and ladies of the night. Inspiration is found in every corner of existence. Inspiration (inspire- from route respire) breathes life in to me and keeps me on the road.

[30daysx30years]

About a year ago I embarked on one of the greatest adventures in my 30 years of living. And now Alpaca Maps have published an interview with me on it, including a cool interactive map of the trip! And yes, you can make your own free of charge... Enjoy!

[30daysx30years]

With renewed strength I make it to the top of the last pass in the morning. From here on the road goes mostly downhill to Osh with temperatures rising; exactly what I need right now. Although Kyrgyzstan is beautiful my full focus is on reaching Osh, so I hardly stop for pictures, chats and children’s high fives anymore. Closed off with my earbuds in I kick away the miles to my destination.

On my final day of cycling it’s only 70 more k’s, the road is great and I’m feeling better. With the stress of time pressure slowly lifting I can’t help but celebrate early by singing along to some ancient Switchfoot albums at the top of my lungs, to great amusement of some locals.

It’s early afternoon when I finally roll into town under Osh’s giant victory arch, which seems fitting, especially after the last three days. What a relief to have made it, on my own and in time for my flight! Turning onto my hostel’s premises I’m reunited with Kineticnomads Robin and Ida as well as my old pal Andy; after making it out of the Wakhan on his own his bike broke down, and without repair options he found himself hitchhiking all the way to Osh. It’s great to see them all again, and to celebrate we go out for the first western food in weeks: beer and burgers.

As demanded by my airline I go looking for a carton box to transport my bike in, together with Andy. The hostel’s owner assures me they are easy to find, but after asking every single bicycle shop in Central Asia’s largest bazaar we still stand empty handed. So I decide to build one myself from used refrigerator packaging, and with some help of a fellow cyclist I construct a box built like a Russian tank. To prove it I proudly climb on top, as Ida snaps a pic with her phone. Receiving the shot from her, back home, I’m harshly confronted with the toll the Pamirs have taken on my emaciated body. Not bringing a mirror has its clear advantages...

Although skin and bones might make for cool stories, it’s good to put things into some perspective: I’m pretty convinced that anyone in decent shape with a healthy dose of determination and taste for raw adventure can cycle the Pamir Highway -as have hundreds of cyclists before me. And everyone will face challenges of their own along the way. I’ve been somewhat unlucky by getting properly sick twice. Being bedridden for days, unable to eat or communicate, and the complete absence of a safety net has brought me to the edge of what I can endure. And although that’s exactly what I came for in a way, the process of being stretched beyond one’s comfort zone is hardly ever pleasant. But to place yourself in a position where you are exposed to the ‘elements’ feels incredibly liberating and can redefine your playing field. Ending on the pretentious note you knew was coming, I think this adversity has given the trip a deeper dimension, for which I’m weirdly grateful.

This has truly been an unforgettable experience; an adventure worthy of bringing a decade to a close. And it makes me all the more curious to see what the next one holds.

Special thanks to my wife Maartje, bike manufacturer Snel fietsen, the incredible people I’ve met along the way, and you folks following me on this adventure and hopefully appreciating what I’ve brought back with me. See you out there!

[cassiachloe]

Literally love this photo progression. In Tajikistan on the Wahkan valley, only 200km from Delhi (through Afghanistan and Pakistan), we were searching for wild hot springs and ended up passing through a small village, though the largest we'd seen anywhere in the recent past. Our car constantly fell apart, being passed on to my friend from another traveler. And we'd lost a bolt so stopped in the village to ask for help. I leant across to ask to take a picture of some of the local men who had stopped from their busy work to see the curious strangers and one lent back making this first funny photo. On them realising how funny that first photo must have looked they began laughing. He then pulled his most mysterious and stern looking face for the third image. On the laughs we had I then asked for a photo with them. They're actually my height (which is a pretty rare occurrence)! Then a little bonus photo of more of the local villagers who also posed in their most serious mystique. Of course by this point many of the villagers had come out to see. The location was of course empty to the kind of scale it's really hard to contemplate coming from little Europe. And then we moved on on our quest for springs.

[30daysx30years]

One of the great things about travelling solo is a personal openness that I experience, to changing environments and people. To look for the unexpected and engage in it; something often lost when travelling with a partner, removing that necessity to have the tide bring you places.

Being on the road by oneself for an extended period of time, is where this fundamental human desire to connect in some way, flourishes. Among its fruit are the many great encounters I’ve had with people along the way.

One of them is during diner in my hostel at Lake Karakul. Whilst outside a snowstorm is raging, the dining room is toasty and the food abundant. Here I meet Roman and Sandra, an Austrian couple living in Thailand. Roman is an avid analogue black&white photographer, and has brought an old medium format Hasselblad with him. Fascinated by this timeless piece of kit we get talking and he is kind enough to spend some of the frames he has left for this trip on me, the next morning.

Dawn is the incarnation of ‘calm after the storm’, with beautiful skies and the mountains draped in a pristine mantle of white. It must be a combination of the high altitude and low humidity that has an amazing effect on the light up here, giving extraordinary intensity to the snowy peaks and clouds. Great day for a shoot!

These pictures are taken by, and property of, the gracious Roman Jirka. Thank you for the great company!