Silk Road Mountain Race - Day 2

August 13, 2023

outside of Enilchek to Lipenka - 120 Miles

Start 6:14 AM Finish 7:56 PM

Total Duration 13:42

Moving Time 11:09

Stopped Time 2:33

Ascent 6,500’

Descent 10,197’

Slept at 5,402' elevation (yurt - bed)

Race Total 241 Miles

Details at: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/131230872

https://srmr2023.maprogress.com/

I slept for only ninety minutes last night in the abandoned roadside shack outside of Enilchek. I woke with the bright sun streaming in through the open windows, doorway, and holes in the ceiling. In addition to the disruptive Czech racer, it had rained last night and had been windy. The rear of the structure had protected me from the elements. First thing upon waking, I relieved myself behind the shack. I then began packing. For breakfast I ate two badly bruised bananas. I was wearing my jersey, long-sleeve merino undershirt, winter under-layer, gilet, jacket, bib, leg-warmers, short-finger gloves, socks, and buff. I lubed my chain before departing, and was down to less than a liter of water.

It was a bright crisp morning, as I continued down crumbly asphalt A-364. The road paralleled the Saryjaz River, and snow-capped peaks towered ahead in the distance. As I was riding down the hill a cyclist going in the other direction shouted out, "Hey Rob!". It was Sarah and Dylan who were pedaling up the hill. Sarah then yelled, "Go, go, go, go, go, go, go!", which really lifted my spirits. Then Allan passed me on his cargo bike. I remembered when he had ridden by me last night and it was hard not to feel discouraged. I kept telling myself that I was riding my own race and that I was ahead of my schedule.

A man on horseback rode towards me driving a large heard of goats. I was literally in the middle, of nowhere. I rode through a gorge with tall steep walls. The rushing milky white river was beneath me to the left. I eventually came to a sharp left turn at the edge of an immense valley. Here the road descended into the basin. From the overlook I could see the ghost town of Enilchek in the distance. A Soviet era welcome sign indicated my arrival in both Kyrgyz and Russian. It included a mining pictograph.

I raced down the hill and crossed under a welcome gate. I then crossed the Engilchek River and took a right. There were no road signs, motor vehicles, buildings or people. The surrounding hills were barren. As I neared the town I took another right towards a set of abandoned buildings. It was 7:20 AM.

Enilchek is an abandoned industrial town that had once operated a tin mine. After the Soviet Union's collapse the population fell from five thousand to less than twenty families. As of 2021, its population was a hundred forty. There were numerous deserted four story buildings that I assumed were once living quarters. The streets were overgrown with weeds and completely devoid of people. It was an eerie forlorn place.

My GPS track didn't provide the exact location of CP1, and I was eventually spotted by someone who waved to me. I entered a courtyard with other parked bikes and saw the Silk Road banner for checkpoint one. I entered what appeared to be an old Soviet classroom with pictures of musicians painted on the walls. There were dining tables set up for food and tea. At the head of the room sat a race official who was recording racers' arrival times and stamping brevet cards. Jono and Christian were seated at one of the tables finishing their breakfast. Jono had arrived last night and stayed in a guesthouse. I got my brevet card stamped and joined them. I immediately went on a rant about the Czech racer whom had barged in on me. I was told there been a bad storm last night up on the pass.

I poured myself some tea and dished porridge and scrambled eggs. Meals at the checkpoints needed to be purchased. I was out of water and thirsty. After breakfast I was directed towards a nearby magazin. There were no signs or advertisements and it was confusing. The magazin was basically someone's house, and items were sold through an open a window. I purchased a bottle of peach flavored iced tea and then returned to the courtyard to filter water from a hose. I removed my leg-warmers, merino wool top, and winter base layer before leaving. I was wearing my socks, bib, jersey, gilet, and jacket. As I left, I noticed Mike rolling up a wet tent.

Jono and I cycled out of town together heading back up the same hill we had ridden down. Photographers snapped our pictures while we were climbing. The Saryjaz River was now to my right, and I noticed

some sort of mining barge stuck in the middle of the stream. It seemed like it had been there for years. The aroma of sage filled the air and it was wonderful. Jono was pedaling at a faster pace and I was eventually by myself. I wouldn't see him again until the end of the race.

I passed what resembled one of my food bags laying on the side of the road. I later realized that a hole had developed in my cloth grocery bag and a few of my canned goods had slipped out. I came to the shack where I had spent the night, and stopped to put an electrolyte tablet in my insulated water bottle and apply sunscreen. It was 10AM. I removed my jacket and took a few photos of the graffiti.

At 10:17 AM I passed Peter riding down the hill on the first segment towards Enilchek, and I cheered him on. I came to the fork with M-047 at 10:30 AM and took a left. I vaguely remembered this turnoff from last night, but it had been dark. There was a military checkpoint where I needed to present my passport. Border zone permits were required in this part of Kyrgyzstan because of its proximity to China, and a list of racers had been provided to the authorities. The officer wouldn't let me to take a photo.

Worn asphalt M-047 followed alongside the Ottuk River, and I would be heading up to the pass where I'd been a few days ago. I passed an occasional house or corral, and noticed a tombstone surrounded by a metal gate. I'd seen similar monuments on my shakedown ride, and my interest was piqued by these public burial sites in the middle of nowhere. I spotted my first marmot in the grass to the side of the road. Chris and Tom had mentioned these critters, and they had imitated their yelps. The marmot was the size of a large rabbit and beige colored with a seal-like coat. Last night in the shack I had heard them chirping.

I saw a steep switchback ahead in the distance, which I was hoping wasn't part of the course. It's always tricky trying to gauge which way a track will wind its way up a pass. I was surrounded by scruffy grass mixed with with gravel and dirt. Occasionally I would pass a delicate wild flower which somehow managed to survive in this inhospitable environment.

I was traveling with too much food weight, and was afraid that I'd lose more through the hole. I stopped at a roadside boulder to enjoy a can of Mikado mango slices and an apricot juice box. It was a sumptuous treat in this remote place. As I made my was upstream I eventually realized that I wouldn't be climbing the treacherous dirt switchback that I'd noticed earlier. Cow patties dotted the road.

Four miles from top of pass I stopped for more canned mango slices and an apple juice box. It was nice to reduce the canned food weight, and the fruit was refreshing. I was dealing with a headwind on the last stretch to the summit. At mile marker forty-seven the road turned to chunk. There were large brown puddles in the track from last night's rain. I finally reached a point where I could see the long switchback climb to the summit.

The Ottuk River had turned to a trickle and I noticed a waterfall. Snow fields on the mountains above provided the water. I continued seeing dozens of tracks in the dirt, and could spot Jono up on the switchback far ahead in the distance. I eventually rounded a turn and spotted the house atop the summit. After the turn I had a tail wind. I arrived at the summit at 2 PM. The climb had taken six hours from Enlicheck. I took a selfie and once again admired the enormous snowcapped range to the south. A racer was slowly making his way up the switchback behind me.

For the steep descent I plugged my phone into the dynamo charger and was able to boost my battery from sixty-two percent to sixty-nine. I came to a road construction area and had to stop. A backhoe was excavating a landslide and redigging the road cut. There were giant piles of dirt in the middle of the track. Motor vehicles were stopped at either end, but the workers let me through. I met a motorist from New Jersey who asked if it was worth the trek to Enlicheck. I told him about the border checkpoint and mentioned that he probably wouldn't be able to get through.

I continued racing down the bumpy gravel, and at one point was met by a boy riding horseback along with his two dogs. One dog was copper colored and the other was black, and they gave me a bit of a chase. The stream coming down from the pass was to my left. Down towards the valley I was met with an extremely strong headwind. The breeze was roaring and it was hard to hear my music. I was having to pedal to get downhill. I descended a steep section and took a sharp turn to the right. This was the confluence where the stream met the Turgenaksu River.

I passed the spot where we had camped on the shakedown ride and entered the lush Turgenaksu valley. I followed the river downstream passing cattle and horses grazing. I came to the open valley filled with house-sized boulders and the carved stone wildcat where I'd originally planned to spend my second night. I continued to fight the wind, which was propelled by powerful thermals. The river grew wide with numerous meandering channels. At one point I crossed a bridge to the other side, and after a few miles I crossed back.

The road surface finally returned to asphalt and I began passing cultivated fields and houses. I was once again in the Issyk Kul basin. The first village was Ak-Bulek. I stopped at a gas station where I noticed other racers including Christian. It ws 4 PM. There wasn't much of a selection so I bought a Pepsi. I sat down on a bench out front, and posted to Instagram. One of the mechanics asked me how old I was. He told me that he was sixty-four. Numbers were communicated on a calculator, as was the routine for transactions. The valley was much warmer, and I removed my jacket and gilet.

I crossed back over the Turgenaksu River and remembered the handsome bridge from the shakedown ride. After a few miles, at Novo-Voznesenovka, I took right M-057. I then took a left on M-056. I stopped at a magazin in Orlinoye, where I was able to purchase water. All the children came running out to the road to give me high fives

The road was once again lined with trees, and I was riding past cultivated fields. The road surface alternated between asphalt, gravel, and washboard. I circled east around Karakol towards Lake Issyk Kul and rode for a bit with Veera from Finland. Like me, it was her first ultra. A couple years ago she had cycled from Finland to Georgia. Last night she had made it all the way to Enilchek and stayed in a guesthouse.

I stopped at a magazin in the hamlet of Mikhaylovka for a bottle of Holiday pear iced tea and a bag of Lays potato chips. I rode by a finger of Lake Issyk Kul as the sun was setting over the water. it was 7 PM. The goal had been to make it to Saruu. I had been advised by my friend Chris that I would need at least six hours to climb Jukuu Pass, and that I'd need to start out of Saruu early in the morning. I was still twenty-five miles from Saruu and it was getting late.

The sun was going down, I was tired, and I needed place to sleep. There were houses everywhere and the stealth camping options weren't good. I really didn't want to set up my tent. I met up with a few other racers as I entered the small village of Lipenka. Christian had located a guesthouse on his phone and asked if I'd like to join him. We rode towards the location, asking locals along the way, "Guesthouse?". Finlly we got to the spot indicated on the app, and noticed a yurt in the back yard. The kids in the yard didn't speak English, and finally the proprietor arrived.

The yurt had a grass floor with rugs, and no electricity. We were told to put our bikes inside. The flap over the door was heavy, and it was an ordeal to get the bikes through. We were shown the outhouse and an electrical outlet where we could charge our devices. We were invited to take showers inside their house. The warm water was invigorating and I didn't wast to leave. Little did I realize that it would be the last shower I'd have for the remainder of the race. I realized that I didn't have a towel, and I'm embarrassed to share that I used one of the family's.

Christian and I were later invited for tea, which included tomato and cucumber salad, bread, cookies, butter and marmalade. We sat with the proprietor who shared that he had five daughters. His youngest played nearby on the floor. He used to have livestock, and was now considering finding work outside the country. Occasionally tourists would stay with him.

A cat kept coming into the yurt and there was no way to keep it out, so I hung my food bag. At about 10 PM we set our alarms and went to sleep.