Day #11 How I Almost Swam

At five in the morning I woke up in a shipping container. It couldn’t compare with the previous night, which I’d spent in a warm bed. I immediately regretted my decision to get up an hour earlier than my roommate. Nothing good awaited me—outside it was dark, thick fog, and I had totally soaked gloves. My sleeping pad deflated again during the night—though here it didn’t bother me as much. There was a piece of carpet on the floor and overall the “room” was well insulated. I couldn’t rely on it for future nights though, and I doubted I’d be sleeping indoors.

For the third time on the Silk Road Mountain Race I was climbing up to Arabel Plateau, and this time it was the hardest. Cold hands weren’t the worst of it. Fog was everywhere, it was cold, and dawn was breaking too slowly. Instead of riding on the road, I was riding through muddy slush where truck wheels had carved deep ruts. What must have been going through the drivers’ heads when they saw me staggering around there?

🤽‍♂️ Mud baths

I ran out of water and didn’t know where to get more. There was a small stream by the road, but it was totally muddy and I didn’t want to clog my water filter. Things weren’t going well for me and the chain was grinding its last. I kept hoping the fog would break and I’d feel better. I couldn’t imagine what this race would be like if it rained for several days in a row.

On Arabel Plateau I found a clean spring (well, clean… at most there was cow shit in it), so I filled up. When I put my bottle under the water, my fingers got even colder. I felt like I was grinding away my last reserves. I wanted to keep going when my chain fell off the chainring. I put it back on, but it fell off again. Everything was so muddy that it wouldn’t stay on anymore. I didn’t understand what was causing it. I tried to clean it a bit and massage the individual links. There was no point in cleaning the bike because the mud wasn’t ending here.

After a while I spotted the first rays of sun. Finally! You can’t even imagine how relieved I felt at that moment. Suddenly I started to believe I could make it, and that this wasn’t my end.

🤮 This time it’s not me

The easy kilometers across the plateau proved harder than the climb that preceded them. Even though the sun was shining, I was fighting against the wind that mercilessly chilled me. I was glad when I turned off the road into the last difficult section. I had to descend to Lake Issyk-Kul. The route that led there was primarily metaphysical, so I was riding across bare plains without a trace of even the smallest path.

The difficult descent with piles of rocks took its toll on me. Halfway down I sat down and caught my breath. I was so tired… When the path finally widened and things started moving, a strong wind hit me. Again?! I fought it with my last strength.

On the descent I met Tomáš Hadámek. He’d arrived here last night and was now resting in his tent. Unfortunately he’d gotten sick and was suffering from severe intestinal discomfort. So it had struck both of us—just at different times and with different intensity. I still hadn’t managed to get into nutritional harmony, even though I was slowly eating more.

☠️ The path of death

When I found myself back in civilization, I immediately headed to Globus. My last shopping trip of the race! I was slowly starting to feel like I was at the finish. On the map I saw the last two climbs and about a hundred kilometers on flat terrain.

I stuffed myself properly and felt like my digestion was finally working again.

Between towns it was insane. They wanted to kill me there! They made it clear I didn’t belong on the road and several times I strategically turned off onto a section that wasn’t paved and went slower. Eventually I gave up, didn’t want to take unnecessary risks, and rode on that broken shoulder the whole time. There was nothing left to race for anyway.

At night it was even worse because all the cars aimed their bright lights straight into my face. I always had to slow down because I couldn’t see anything at all. On top of that, digestive problems started showing up. Passing gas wouldn’t have been such a problem, but my stomach hurt and I had to use Imodium. Fortunately just once.

🚣 I didn’t need a ferryman

The highlight of the evening was when I reached a pond that was very smelly and full of mosquitoes or similar insects. The bridge was missing. I didn’t know if I should swim across. My headlamp was dead, so I couldn’t see properly how far it was or how deep. I was just about to step into the water when I called the organizer to ask if he was serious. He wasn’t. He told me under no circumstances should I enter the water and to go around. I was happy to do that.

I soon discovered the headlamp wasn’t dead but broken. Water had gotten inside. Later I learned it was because of ungreased threads. I didn’t even have the energy to lament about it—it was just another thing that didn’t survive this adventure.

I rode until almost midnight and wanted to sleep in the last village. I didn’t want to start climbing in the mountains because it would definitely be colder there. I really didn’t feel like it, and I hadn’t ridden this late into the night for a long time. I’d gotten soft.

When I caught wind of a bus shelter in the second-to-last village, it seemed like a reasonable choice. I didn’t yet know how it would come back to haunt me the next day…