Time to change our plans again
Our original plan was to cross into China at Karatal (KZ)–Jeminay (CN). But before that, we had also wanted to take the night train north to Öskemen. By now, the border crossing feels a very long way off, and we're not sure we can make it there within the 16 days we have left on our 30-day tourist visa. We don't want to use the main crossing into China at Horgos either, because that would put us in China earlier than we want. So we settle on Dostyk (KZ)–Alashankou (CN) instead. There isn't much information about the crossing online, but one thing seems clear: you have to take a bus across the border, and the crossing is closed on weekends ...
Perfect, we have a destination. Now we just need to figure out how to get to Dostyk. Visiting Altyn-Emel National Park sounds tempting, but neither of us is particularly keen on endless straight roads through desert and steppe. Instead, we come up with a route through the mountains, from Koktal to Arantobe via a high valley. Some of the roads only show up on satellite images.
Day 5: The Oasis
As planned, we take it easy and aim to ride around 30 km in the afternoon to a small canyon. We wash our clothes and watch the shepherds bring their sheep and goats down to the river for water. Everyone greets us, and while we're packing up, a friendly Kazakh man rides over on his horse and tries to strike up a conversation. With plenty of gestures, we explain that we're from Europe and flew to Almaty with our bikes. How much of it he actually understands is anyone's guess, but he seems fascinated by all our gear.
Eventually, we get going. Once again straight into a headwind, until we find a small shop in a village and stock up on pasta for dinner. Finally, something other than polenta or rice!
We leave the paved road and follow a gravel track towards the edge of a canyon. Suddenly the road drops steeply away and we're forced to push the bikes down. We try not to think about the fact that we'll have to push them all the way back up again tomorrow.
We find a beautiful spot right by the river in a small oasis. For once, we cook enough food to actually fill us up and spend the evening around a little campfire. Even though it's been a relaxed day with relatively few kilometres, we still collapse into the tent like stones.
Day 6: Steppe, motorway and the cursed search for a campsite
We get going fairly early again. By now we've settled into a routine and usually need no more than an hour before we're back on the bikes. First we push them back out of the canyon, then it's onto asphalt.
We're making surprisingly good progress and, for the first time, finally get a tailwind. We race across the steppe, enjoying the sheer vastness of the landscape. The mountains we're heading for are already visible on the horizon.
We stop for lunch at a café in Chundzha. May 1st is a public holiday in Kazakhstan too, and the streets are full of children playing. It's also where we learn an important lesson the hard way: if you find something you need, buy it there and then. You never know when you'll see it again. We learn this when we reach the next village hoping to buy vegetables and find none. From now on, if we see something, we grab it.
We're a little wary of the next section: 50 km on the motorway. There simply isn't another road or track across this part of the steppe and its rivers. We briefly consider hitchhiking, but there hasn't been much traffic for a while, and none of the vehicles passing us would have had room for two bikes anyway.
Just before the slip road, we meet a Russian group. They reckon there's hardly any traffic and that it'll be no problem. Well, whether Russians are the best people to ask about this sort of thing is debatable. We decide to go for it — and, naturally, just as we're riding onto the motorway, the perfect little truck for hitchhiking passes us ...
So off we go. There really isn't much traffic, and just as we've come to expect from the Kazakhs, everyone gives us plenty of room when passing. There's even a narrow shoulder that's just wide enough for us.
Half an hour later, we take the first exit. The river where we'd planned to camp turns out to be a muddy mess, so we decide to stay on the motorway a little longer after all. Completely exhausted, we eventually reach the turn-off for Koktal and drag ourselves through the final kilometres into the village.
For the first time, we see camels. The sight gives us enough motivation to make it to the next shop. We must look absolutely wrecked, because two friendly Kazakhs immediately buy us two Cokes and some water.
We desperately want to wash, though, so we still have to make it a little farther to the next river. That's when the search begins. We try to fight our way through barbed wire and thorn bushes to reach the water. Eventually, we make it. Once again, we've found a perfect spot to sleep, wash and cook.
Day 7: Through the desert into the mountains
We're still completely wrecked from yesterday's 130 km. We ride the few kilometres back into the village to plan the next stretch through the mountains. How long will it take? How much food do we need? Where can we refill our water? We reckon four days' worth of food should do it.
Even though we're still exhausted, we decide to set off that same day. It's only 25 km to the next river, which looks heavily wooded on the satellite images. So we head out into the midday heat, fill our bottles one last time and ride back into the steppe.
Since we'd only spotted the track on satellite images, we leave the road and suddenly find ourselves in a dried-up riverbed. After a bit of searching, we find the track after all and, to our surprise, it's actually in decent condition. The terrain gets hillier and the riding gets properly hard.
After about an hour on the gravel road, a motorbike carrying two masked men comes towards us. Unlike every other Kazakh we've met so far, they don't greet us and simply race past. A few minutes later, a large 4x4 rounds the corner, full of men wearing balaclavas. Slightly unsettled, we keep riding. What are they doing out here? Why are they all covering their faces? And why does nobody greet us like everyone else has?
Then a small flatbed truck comes towards us, the kind normally used for transporting livestock. We get a proper fright when we notice around 20 masked men staring out through the bars at the back. Our imaginations start running wild, and before long we're half expecting a drug lab or something similar behind every corner and hill.
Of course, nothing of the sort appears. They were most likely shepherds moving their livestock up to the high plateaus for the summer, using balaclavas to keep the dust out of their faces.
After a short descent, we reach the little mountain oasis and watch the shepherds drive their sheep through the river. The forecast for the next few days promises a mix of sunshine and thunderstorms ...
Day 8: The last stretch into the mountains
After yet another morning river crossing, we set off on the final stretch into the mountains. The black horizon is a pretty good sign that we're not going to stay dry today.
Parts of the gravel track are so sandy that the bikes sink in and we have no choice but to push. Then the track steepens and climbs across a rolling mountainside. We catch up with the shepherds driving their animals uphill, but they're moving at a decent pace, so we stay behind them.
Thunder starts rumbling behind us and we spot the first flashes of lightning. We keep moving because there's nowhere to shelter, hoping the rolling terrain will at least offer some protection.
After more pushing and a short rain shower, we reach the plateau. Just before the real rain begins, we throw up the tent and crawl inside without even bothering with our sleeping mats.
Two hours later, we wake up to sunshine. Apparently, we're still feeling the effects of the long day two days ago.
We watch the shepherds living in their yurts up on the plateau and enjoy being back among green mountains again.
Day 9: Stopped by the river
The forecast is unsettled again. We're hoping the tracks will be good enough to let us move twice as fast as yesterday. At around 10 km/h, we make our way across the plateau, passing yurts and scattered herds. Before starting the descent, we stop at a large monument that apparently commemorates a battle from long ago.
On the descent, we have to take our shoes off again and again to push the bikes through deep streams. We keep looking back at the thunderstorm chasing us down the valley and getting closer by the minute. At times there's no road at all, and we ride straight across meadows until we reach the next stream. Each time it's the same decision: can we just ride through, balance across on a few rocks, or do the shoes have to come off again? Most of the time, it's the shoes.
We reach the valley floor just as the storm catches us. We quickly put up the outer fly of the tent and manage to dive underneath just before getting completely soaked.
Once the rain eases, one thing becomes obvious: the river has risen so much that crossing it is out of the question. We walk around looking for a better spot, but nowhere looks remotely safe.
After plenty of back and forth, we decide there's only one sensible option: camp here and try again first thing in the morning. Hopefully, by then most of the rainwater will have drained off the mountain, while the snow higher up will still be frozen.
The alternative would be to push our bikes for 20 km along the hillside on our side of the river.
Or, worst case, turn around and retrace the last three days. With the amount of food we have left, though, that could get a bit tight.
So we go to bed ridiculously early. The alarm is set for 04:00.
Day 10: The river crossing
Still half asleep, I crawl out of the tent to check the river. It's definitely calmer than yesterday, but still too powerful. It's also freezing outside. We go back to sleep.
At 06:00, we try again. We pack everything up and get to work without breakfast. We're both visibly a little nervous, but we find a spot that looks doable.
I try going first on my own, but as soon as my bike is fully in the current, it nearly pulls me over. So we do it together. Between the current and the slippery rocks, we just manage to wrestle my bike across to the other bank.
Our feet are already numb from the freezing water, and we still have Vanessa's bike to get across. So back we go. Without a bike to give you at least a bit of stability, crossing on foot is noticeably harder. We don't waste much time thinking about it, grab the second bike and haul it through the current.
Made it!! The relief is written all over our faces. We're both completely soaked, but at least the sun is starting to warm us up. We make breakfast and oil the bike chains.
And off we go again — only to hit another side stream two minutes later. For the next two hours, we ride down the valley and cross at least 20 smaller streams.
Luckily, we don't have to cross the main river again as we'd feared. We stay on its left side, and the farther down the valley we get, the better the roads become. The only thing driving me mad is the incredibly fine dust. The bikes sound as though someone has poured a handful of sand into every bearing. Vanessa is much more relaxed about it and simply ignores the noise.
Eventually, we reach the village of Subar, where we're once again delighted to find a minimarket.
A few people want to take photos with us and invite us into their homes. But our plan is to keep going to the next big town and sleep in a hotel for the first time. Taldykorgan is still another 90 km away.
The landscape is beautiful, and after three days of gravel tracks and river crossings, riding on smooth asphalt feels like a luxury. We climb up to a pass, and from there it's almost all downhill. Along the way, we meet a Kazakh youth cycling team, complete with a support car.
Just before Taldykorgan, we stop one more time and discover our favourite ice cream of the entire trip: Bomba. The final kilometres fly by, even though we're back in smelly city traffic. The first hotel is full, but luckily the second has a room for us.
Completely exhausted, we enjoy the shower and the bed. Tomorrow is a rest day. We want to explore the city and go out for some food. We also need to plan the next section, and this time we'll be paying very close attention to any possible river crossings.
We definitely don't want a repeat of this. What we don't know yet is that something completely different is about to become our next challenge, one that will follow us all the way to Mongolia.
