Day #8 How I almost froze

After midnight I was woken by the cold. I realized my comfortable sleeping pad had significantly hardened. It was completely without air. The patch had peeled off from the top part. It had only lasted two nights. It was freezing outside, but I had to drag myself out and fix it.

My biggest problem, of course, was that I’d already used up all the disposable patches. What now? Luckily I had TPU patches from AliExpress as a backup. I’d originally brought them for a possible repair of waterproof clothing, but I hoped they could handle this job too. I was wrong.

The patch seemed to hold at first glance, but when I inflated the sleeping pad and lay down on it, the air found its way and escaped. On the third try I finally managed to seal it so it held and I tried to fall asleep again. But after a few hours I woke up again on the cold ground. I gave up. I only had one last TPU patch left and I didn’t trust it, so I didn’t even try. I decided I’d wait out the cold on the hard ground.

Perhaps for the first time, there was proper dew and fog in the morning. Everything was wet and cold. I wasn’t shivering from the cold, but I definitely didn’t feel comfortable. I was waiting for the sunrise. The nighttime patching of the sleeping pad had broken me mentally so much that passing racers left me cold. I didn’t get up until it was light.

To keep moisture from condensing inside, I had my bivy partially open. But it didn’t help much. My sleeping bag was covered with frost. I was knocking it off all my things.

🌬️ Will it hold?

There was a second set of patches for the sleeping pad, but without glue. They recommended a drying time of at least 24 hours—it wasn’t usable in the field. I tried using tube glue, but unfortunately I didn’t have time to wait for it to dry. I left it for 10 minutes and packed everything up.

I did set off, but I had no desire to move at all. Due to the high humidity I couldn’t see anything through my glasses. The sun above the horizon was right in front of me, so I was completely blind.

There wasn’t much in the valley. Occasionally I saw some flock of sheep. Occasionally some yurt or group of herders. Otherwise it was completely empty. I kept crossing various streams and rivers. It wasn’t such a problem, but the constant wetness was washing lubricant off my chain. Only a bit remained at the bottom of my bottle—I’d underestimated this. I still had several hundred kilometers to the finish.

Mentally I was at rock bottom. Still in no man’s land, but nothing was stopping me from moving forward. I could feel bad, but as long as I was riding, I was still doing okay. I rode for about 50 kilometers on a broken road, slightly uphill and into the wind. The valley was beautiful, but I’d had my fill of it.

I took a longer break to dry my things. I also left the patch in the sun so the glue would dry properly. Whether it would work at night, I couldn’t know.

🛣️ Help from the locals

When I finally arrived at the final climb to Arabel Plateau, it partially woke me up. This plateau had a very strong position in the race, because I had to climb up to it three times from different directions. The next section consisted of loops that kept bringing me back there.

The road to the first loop led over the four-thousand-meter Suyak Pass—the second of that name in the race. I wasn’t even registering the altitude anymore, but I definitely wasn’t full of energy at the top. I was coughing properly and ate the last remnants of hazelnut butter under the saddle. The next day I’d need a shop.

This year though we won’t head down the Kumtor mining road to Barksoon or Jukuu immediately. Instead, we’ll take a right turn and head south over Suyek Pass (4024m), the second of this name in the race this year. This is a place that holds a particularly important place in the history of Kyrgyzstan. It is over this pass that thousands perished as they attempted to flee to China following the crushing of the 1916 uprising against the Russian Tsarist colonial regime. This is one of the ancient Silk Road routes to China via Bedel pass much further south. There are plans to rebuild this road and pave it, so there may not be long for us to explore it in its current untamed state. It’s another 4000m pass and a particularly spectacular one at that. We’ll follow a long loop round the Naryn river, through the Kara Say military base and back down to the shores of lake Issyk-Kul via the Kumtor road. This does mean that there will be over 400 KM without resupply this year. Water will not be a problem but think carefully about how much food you will need to make it back down to civilisation.

It was slowly getting dark. I was riding on a rolling road and felt worn out to my bones. Plus I was constantly riding into the wind. It was primarily a battle of minds. I met a Kyrgyz racer who told me the wind would turn around in the morning. That was bad news. Because in the morning I’d be coming back the opposite direction.

A while after dark I reached the westernmost point of the loop and started turning to the other side. The wind had naturally let up a bit, but it was still pushing me forward. I definitely felt better than in the morning.

🌚 As long as it doesn’t blow

I was considering how to solve sleeping. I assumed the wind would remain calmer at night, so there was no point riding deep past midnight. I preferred to use my favorite tactic and go to sleep earlier, so I’d get up very early the next day. Also because I wasn’t sure whether the patch on the sleeping pad would hold, and it would be better for me to sleep in less cold. I’d rather ride through the cold.

I inflated the sleeping pad, not to full pressure. I hoped it wouldn’t exert so much force on the patch and it would be more likely to hold.

Tomorrow I was supposed to finally return to civilization.