Silk Road Mountain Race - Day 1 • Karakol to outside of Enilchek

Silk Road Mountain Race - Day 1
August 12, 2023
Karakol to outside of Enilchek - 121 Miles
Start 9:08 AM Finish 11:05 PM
Total Duration 13:56
Moving Time 12:04
Stopped Time 1:52
Ascent 8,591’
Descent 5,179’
Slept at 9,120' elevation (shack - floor)
Race Total 121 Miles
Details at: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/131208720

https://srmr2023.maprogress.com/

Adjacent to the Karakol Yurt Lodge was a bar called The Hut. Last night being Friday it was chocked full of people and noisy. In addition, a large group of Koreans who were staying at the lodge had gathered in the courtyard and departed for an excursion at 2:30AM. My ear plugs had been ineffective and I had taken an Ambien to sleep.

I woke up at 6:30AM before my alarm. Jono was already up and reported that one of the small lodge kittens had pooped in his bed. We had an early breakfast consisting of porridge, omelets, cheese slices, salad, bread, and marmalade along with tea. I was packed and ready to go, and was itching to get started. My food bag was now strapped to my rear rack. The starting point was Park Pobedy, just a few blocks from the lodge. Participants were to arrive at 8:30AM and the race would begin at 9AM.

There was already a crowd when I arrived. Photographers, local authorities, racers, and onlookers flocked the sidewalk in front of the park gates. I met racer Cat from Durango, CO and saw Dylan, Sarah, Sofiane, and a racer named Mike who was dressed like a bee. The numbered caps had arrived, and were quickly distributed. Racers were concerned about reports of bad weather up in the mountains. The crowd listened to speeches given by local authorities in Kyrgyz, and race director Nelson Trees was presented with a plaque. It was a timely start complete with a police escort. Drones filmed from above, and photographers snapped pictures from escorting motor vehicles. We took the main highway out of town and then cut to a smaller road. We pedaled alongside pastures with horses and cows. At one point I noticed a group of cyclists on the side of the road huddled around a downed racer. Sofiane had crashed and the leaders had stayed with him. My dynamo was keeping my phone charged as I averaged fifteen miles an hour on the tarmac.

Locals lined the roads waving. We came to a dirt section, and then a brand new asphalt stretch. We were still in the Lake Issyk Kul basin and were surrounded by cultivated fields. Sofiane eventually passed me, and there was bandaging on his wrist. I crossed a river and was enjoying a tail wind. At the junction of A364 I stopped at a small magazin for a bottle of A’SU peach water and an ice cream. It was packed with racers and I wondered how long the supplies would last. Everyone was keeping their stops short, and it was exciting running into one another. A herd of cattle wandered down the road while I finished my ice cream.

In the small town of Sary Tologoy MM38 joined up with A362. I was following the Tyrup River upstream. At mile marker forty-eight I came to an area where a large dump truck was spreading fresh asphalt. It was 1 PM and I was proudly wearing my new cap. The brim was turned up to show my number ninety two. Cars and trucks were kicking up dust and I lifted my buff up around my face. There were stands alongside the road selling honey, and I noticed beehives in the fields.

The course wound close the Kazakh border and I noticed old wooden watch towers. I passed a water spreading truck which cut down on the road dust. Yurt camps could be seen in the distance. I passed an old helicopter sitting alongside the road. It didn't seem operational, and I had heard there were no working helicopters in Kyrgyzstan.

At mile marker sixty-five I stopped at another magazin, this time for a Pepsi and a Nesquik peanut bar. Friendly locals spread out a blanket for me out back in the grass. Jono caught up as I was leaving. I was starting to get sunburn and I stopped to apply sunscreen. Unfortunately I later realized that I had forgotten to get my right thigh.

I came to a beautiful wooded area with conifer trees and grass growing alongside the Karkara River. There was shade in the forest and the air was cooler. I noticed a group of locals picnicking alongside the stream. The valley was beginning to narrow and the road grade was becoming steeper. The surface was rougher. The course became more isolated yet I was still being passed by the occasional motor vehicle.

I continued alongside pastures with grazing cattle, and the scenery was stunning. I crossed a stream that was fifteen inches deep. My feet got wet and it was no issue in my sandals. My GPS was acting buggy but I knew I was on course because of the bicycle tracks.

By 4 PM I had ridden seventy-five miles, and the views were stupendous. My original plan had been to pedal eighty miles and sleep before the pass. I was making great time and decided to head for the summit, which was another twenty miles and 2800' elevation ahead. I was surrounded by majestic mountains, and the river split into three forks. The course hooked left and then crossed a small bridge over the left fork to follow the middle stream. The right stream climbed into a steep valley strewn with boulder fields.

The course veered west and up into another green valley as it rounded a hill. There were dark clouds ahead, punctuated by blue sky. At 4:30 PM it seemed like it was going to rain. I felt drops of sleet and noticed other riders whom had pulled over to don rain gear. I was chilly and stopped to put on my gilet. I unpacked my rain gear and warm clothes from my compression bags, and got them ready at the top of my panniers.

I passed strange bumpy grass areas and I couldn't understand how they had formed. The rain started to strengthen, and I stopped to put on my poncho, jacket, leg-warmers, and socks. I was passed by other racers who were still in shorts. Broken sections of culvert pipe crossed the track. There were gaps between the cast concrete sections which I first thought were intentional to serve as a cattle guard. The rain began to lighten. A large gray cloud was still above me, but there were blue skies and puffy clouds ahead. My fingers were crossed that would stop.

The rain finally ended and I stopped to stow my poncho and enjoy a Snickers bar. It was 6 PM and I was at 10,000' elevation. I had ridden eighty-eight miles and I was four miles from the pass. The course was really starting to get chunky. I was listening to a Duane Train episode and Nina Simone's 'I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free' came on. A huge smile emerged on my face. The sun had set behind the valley wall to my right, and the weather was holding.

I reached the 11,060' summit at 7PM and took selfies with racers Dmitriy and Victoria. I was awed by the towering snow-capped peaks in front of me. I had never seen such enormous mountains. Jengish Chokusu soared 24,406' and Khan Tengri was 22,999'. I knew the descent would be chilly so I stopped to put on warmer layers. Jono shouted out as he passed me.

I enjoyed a long downhill towards a large lake fed by glacial run-off. It was now 9 PM and dark. The stars glistened above. I was ostensibly five miles from the asphalt highway and began to notice utility poles. The other racers by this point had thinned out. I passed an abandoned border station and watch tower. I later came to another border control outpost where two racers had stopped to sleep for the night. Their lights lit up the small building which confused me. I stopped to ask if it was ok to pass, and then quickly realized that I was speaking with fellow racers.

The course crossed numerous streams, which was unsettling in the dark. My headlight beam hadn't been properly adjusted was angled slightly upwards. I was unable to gauge how deep the crossings were, and I took my chances. At mile one hundred and eight I noticed yurts with lights. The brilliant Milky Way stretched across the sky above. I came to a fork and was startled by a white horse that just standing there in the dark. By 10:30 PM I had made to the asphalt road. I had gone a hundred and sixteen miles.

Three racers passed me coming up the hill and going in the other direction. At first I was baffled. Then I realized they had already been to checkpoint one in Enilchek. They were now on course section two and were heading up the second climb. I was passed by a truck slowly going in the other direction. Flashes of lightning lit up the sky from behind me.

By 11 PM I had ridden a hundred and twenty miles. Two more racers passed me going in the other direction. I was tired and keeping my eyes peeled for a place to sleep. There was no level ground to either side of the road. I figured checkpoint one in Enilchek would be noisy and that I'd get a better night's sleep away from the town. Additionally, I had heard that it was wise to not overdo it on the first day. I noticed a small abandoned shack on the side of the road, and decided to have a look. Old pieces of plywood were arranged atop the earthen floor against the far wall. A pile of rubbish filled the other half. The ceiling above the plywood area seemed like it could keep out any rain. I slowly unpacked my air mattress, ground cloth and sleeping bag. I leaned my bike in front of the shack so that others would see that it had been claimed. If I had been on a bike tour, I would have either brought my bike inside with me or hidden it out back.

I was tired and kept forgetting things outside. Because of all of the debris, I had to put on my sandals every time I left the shack. My backpacking pillow was missing and had rolled like a ball into the weeds. Finally settled, I was too tired to eat the food that I had brought inside. I cleaned my privates with wipes before enveloping myself in my silk liner and sleeping bag.

As I was laying there, a Czech racer appeared in the doorway and asked if there was room for him to sleep. The shack was small and there was obviously no room for him. He was concerned about rain, and said that he was going to camp outside. If it stormed he would come inside and sleep atop the rubble. I was exhausted yet couldn't sleep. He made a lot of ruckus cooking his dinner and talking to other racers who were stopping to inquire about the shack. It eventually started to rain and he entered the shack, managing to sleep atop the debris. He promised that he would only be there for ninety minutes, but when his alarm sounded he hit the snooze button. This happened over and over. I wasn't able to sleep a single wink until after he had departed. It was a horrible first night and the shack had been a terrible decision. This would be my first mistake of the race.