Crossing the remote high Pamirs to Lake Zorkul (and on to Langar) - Breaking the Cycle

Blog 21

6th – 9th July

Murghab to Langar

Distance: 318km

Total Distance: 6859km

Murghab town, the main centre in the eastern Pamir (population 6000), on first appearances is a desolate place where temperatures can drop to -50C in winter and reach 30C+ in summer. At 3650m, it is considered a high altitude desert regularly receiving strong winds. At the end of the 19th Century, the Pamir region was a confrontation zone between the world powers – Russia, British Chinese empires. Imperial Russia founded Murghab in 1892 because of its strategic location strengthening its military presence against China and the British Empire claims (Pakistan, Afghanistan). The Soviets wanted to strengthen their claim by closing the borders and building the Pamir Highway as a military supply link for the region. The Soviets also ensured the people of Murghab were well taken care of, making the town a “choice” destination, despite the harsh conditions.

Lenin and the Soviet Union are still remembered for good times in Murghab and the Pamir in general because at that time the people received a lot of privileges and the region was developed. Russia and the Soviet Union also helped the Pamiris defend their territory against Chinese and Afghan invaders.

Murghab was a much needed physical rest day and a pit stop – blog writing, shopping, planning the next phase, and washing, etc. Karim organised our permits for Lake Zorkul National Park and helped me change money. Murghab will also be remembered for the vicious mosquitoes that mauled any exposed skin from the mid-afternoon until after dark.

Murghab, on the river of the same name, is surrounded by mountains making it a mosquito-ridden cauldron in summer and trapping the cold in the winter.

Day 105: Murghab to Tokhtamish minus 10km – 78km

The plan was to continue following the Murghab River upstream, through the mountains to Tokhtamish where it changes to become the Aksu River that flows out of Lake Chaqmaqtin in the Little Pamir – the eastern part of Afghanistan’s Wakhan Corridor. The aim was to follow the rivers as far as possible and then cut through remote tracks towards Lake Zorkul thus following the longest tributary of the Amu Darya as far as possible and then connect with another of the main sources of the great river. The border areas with Afghanistan and China are militarily sensitive regions.

The Murghab has quite a different character to the furious Bartang, Panj and other Amu Darya tributaries. Set in the high plains (the word “Pamir” means high plains), the river meandered over the gently ascending broad valley flanked by green grasses, a haven for mosquitoes and large biting flies.

The first 20km was a strip of the old Soviet-built asphalt, broken and crumbling. Heavy trucks frequent the first 50km of the road and then turn off east to the Chinese border to link with the Karakoram Highway.

The main road turned into a broken and corrugated gravel surface, untenable for all vehicles (including bicycles). Between the road and the river was a maze of alternative tracks. It was a case of reading the road and selecting the best tracks to follow – that weren’t too cut up by the trucks, corrugated or made of deep bulldust and sand. Here I got it wrong and was swamped in a patch of bulldust. No harm done, except it is terrible for the drive train.

The maze of tracks between the river and the old road.

This is a remote area, not a place travellers and tourists frequent (like the Pamir Highway), however, all along there were shepherds’ houses and evidence of people living in what must be a godforsaken place for much of the year.

The wind seemed to come from all directions – sometimes a headwind, sometimes from the side, and later in the day, a strong tailwind. Mini tornadoes (twisters or willy-willies in Australian terms) whipped dust off the plains.

By mid-afternoon I was doing well, following the side tracks adjacent to the river. However, 10km from Tokhtamish we were stopped by the military. We were still 50km from the Afghanistan border and just 10km from where we intended to turn off the road and into the mountains, but unfortunately we were not permitted to go any further. We knew the region was sensitive, but no one was able to tell us where the limit was – we found it!

We had no choice but to return to Murghab and take an alternative route that keeps the line of my journey connected.

Day 106: Pamir Highway turn-off (30km from Murghab) to Karajulga Yurt Camp, Zorkul Lake National Park boundary – 77km

Karim and I came up with an alternative plan that was just as good. From Murghab we returned to the turn-off to where we previously visited the Shakhti Cave Drawings. I cycled from the highway, connecting the line of my journey. Sometimes curveballs happen for a reason – this alternative route was one of the highlights of my journey so far, even though it was perhaps the toughest physically.

Starting at 3831m, the track gradually ascended up the broad valley with colourful mountains either side. I was able to avoid most of the corrugations, though it was rough in places.

The route led to the first pass. This felt like a wall to me – I was feeling the 4000m altitude before I started the steep phase. My stomach wasn’t feeling right and my heart was already racing. The last section of the climb was extremely steep and from 4266m I had to walk the final 40m ascent.

Looking back down the pass I had just climbed

I didn’t descend more than 100m. I was then into a different world with a large, grass-covered dry salt lake.

I gradually descended, then up and over another ridge, then down again – down as far is this stream (that I had to cross) at around 4100m.

Shepherds live in these parts for half of the year, grazing their goats, yaks and maybe other animals, but then move them away for the winter.

At this point, Karim said I had to make a choice – aim for a settlement with a natural spring called Jorty Gumbaz (13km away), or head for where we originally wanted to get to on the edge of the Lake Zorkul National Park, a further 18km away (31km in total). I was feeling very tired, my legs full of painful lactic acid (the lack of oxygen at this altitude limits recovery). We had enough time and I decided to do the 31km to keep on schedule, knowing there were some more serious challenges over the next couple of days. I wanted to give myself the best chance to keep on track.

After the settlement, I was not only facing another mountain pass of over 4400m, I was confronted by a powerful head wind. The gusts just about blew me off the track many times. The climb wasn’t as steep as the first of the day, but I was struggling. I broke the climb into sections, baby steps actually, but the little used track was a mess of stones, muddy sections, meadow grass and stream crossings. I was barely managing to stay on the bike…but I kept going.

The marmot bush telegraph! As I ascended, there were countless marmot burrows. The cute furry creatures would be calling to their networks that something was approaching – probably hadn’t seen another cyclist before in this region.

I passed the snow line. Just small chunks of snow were left melting into the diminishing stream. The team was very supportive – the cold wind, the rough track and the altitude made this an extreme personal battle for me.

In the late afternoon I finally reached the 4437m summit, although nothing was marked, I just noticed when I started losing altitude on my bike computer.

The sun had disappeared behind the mountains and the wind chill made it pretty cold until I descended towards the plain and into the last of the sun’s rays.

After a further 5km across the very rough plains, through water crossings and into the powerful headwind, I could spot the yurt camp in the distance. It is right on the edge of the Zorkul Lake National Park – that we needed the permits for.

The two yurts at Karajulga belonged to a Kyrgyz family who live there during the summer and as the season turns, they pack their yurts and drive their 20 yaks and 100 goats to Murghab for the winter. Omar, was the head of the family and welcomed us in to his home.

Karim helped prepare the evening meal of potatoes and a very small amount of lamb to go with some homemade produce – butter, smirtana and kefir – all made with rich yak milk – and bread of course.

My bike even got a bed for the night; apparently it was loaded safely onto the truck so the dogs wouldn’t damage it overnight!

After our evening meal – with Karim, Omar and hid son

Children from the other yurt. The women and children ate separately in this yurt

Handling the yaks in the morning. They are milked at 5am.

Omar after taking a short ride on my bike. Note the traditional Kyrgyz hat – worn by most Kyrgyz men.

Day 107: Karajulga Yurt Camp and across the Lake Zorkul NP – 63km

I was really looking forward to reaching Lake Zorkul, one of the sources of the Amu Darya. However, It didn’t get easier! The high plain was not flat, the track was as rough and wet as it gets and I had a powerful headwind again, all day.

The track often gets boggy, here near Woody’s Lake

Sprays of delicate alpine-type flowers added much colour to the landscape. Glaciers from the mountains behind, the tallest known as Concord Peak, flow into Lake Zorkul.

Right through the day, there were many water crossings to make. Some were easy while others required me to cycle through the water, or walk upstream to find a narrower crossing place. I had two major crashes. The first one, after about 15km, was the worst. I hit a large round stone in the deeper part of a stream crossing, tried to fall to the side rather than the middle of the stream, and the boney crest of my right hip landed squarely on the point of a large granite rock. It really took my breath away. I crossed the stream (with wet feet) and assessed the damage. Standing straight and walking really hurt, but when flexed in the cycling position I was still able to ride, though not without pain. The second big crash, this time in front of my team, was also when trying to cross a stream. I started too close to the water’s edge and didn’t have enough momentum, hit a large, round stone and duly landed hard on a bed of rocks. I jarred my bad knee and lost some skin, but this wasn’t so serious. My hip is still sore – I think I have bruised the bone.

An old Soviet border post complete with radio communications, lies derelict. This is a militarily sensitive border region which is why we had to get special permits to travel through there.

A lone mausoleum atop a large hill points to the sky and presides over the extensive plain.

I was excited to finally see Lake Zorkul, one of the key sources of the Amu Darya. The lake and region has some important history. There is an assumption that Marco Polo passed through the valley on the way to China. He gave the first account of the very large sheep in the region that now bear his name.
The true source of the Amu Darya (known as the Oxus River in antiquity) has been a matter of conjecture for at least 200 years; since the Great Game. Lt Wood of the Indian navy first asserted that it was Lake Zorkul (which, of course, he named Lake Victoria) in 1858. The region became famous for its part in the Great Game between the British and Russian empires. In 1895, the Pamir Boundary Commission established its first pillar at the eastern end of Lake Zorkul to define the border between Afghanistan (British protectorate) and the Russian Empire.

The track remained much higher than the level of Zorkul Lake (4126m above sea level)) and kept about three kilometres from the water’s edge. I assumed this is because the landscape becomes too boggy, especially as the snow melts in spring. The boundary pillars and the border are both still there, although, with my path being so far from the lake’s edge, I wasn’t able to see the pillars.

Just on lunch time when I was ready for a break, a local family of shepherds invited us in for tea. It was all homemade produce – the bread was excellent, there was home made butter, creamy smetana, kefir and dried fish that had been caught in the lake. This is a photo of the neighbour’s family wishing me well.

I wanted to get to the shoreline and the shepherd was able to direct us down the only route, he said, where it was possible to cycle/drive to the lake. It was a cross-country ride with only the occasional faint wheel track to spot. It was worth the effort, but as soon as we started to move through the grasses and low bushes beside the lake, the mosquitoes were out in force, spoiling the occasion. As I finished a piece to camera, a huge swarm of marauding mozzies descended like a noisy plague in a horror movie. In fast motion we we packed up and were on our way back to the shepherd’s property. Maybe that’s why few venture to the shoreline of the lake.

Lake Zorkul – about 25km long, 3.5km-4.5km wide and only 3m-5.5m deep

A quick photo before leaving the shoreline

The track continued on higher ground, with a lot of sharp climbs, but the views across the lake to the mountains was a memorable reward.

After about 25km, we reached the point where Zorkul Lake flows into the Pamir River

Next we followed the course of the Pamir River for 50km on a small track.

The river was wild and flowing with great force.

The track was pretty horrific much of the time, especially where rockfalls had left piles of large stones over the track. There were no bridges and quite a few water crossings to make. The river was beautiful in the early evening light. Our aim was to camp that night but finding a suitable place with at least some shelter from the strong winds proved difficult. The winds blow upstream, so finally, when there was a significant bend in the river (reducing the wind power), Karim used the vehicle to provide some shelter and we made do.

Day 108: Pamir River Camp to Langar – 100km

The wind died down overnight but soon sprung up again in the morning.

Typically large stones and boulders covered the track and were very challenging to cycle over, especially when I had lost confidence after my crashes. My hip was pretty sore.

Silt from the fast-flowing stream sometimes formed a kind of swampy delta. Here the Pamir River was adorned with yellow flowers, and at other stages it was pink flowers.

The Zorkul Lake track ended with 4km flanked by razor wire and a GBAO checkpoint (checking our permits were in order) at Khargush. From there I turned back onto a more major road, however the surface was disappointing. It was terrible and, even though I was mostly heading downhill, I struggled to do more than 13km an hour into the horrific headwind that whistled up the valley.

A beautiful place, but I struggled with the conditions. The road was deeply rutted and corrugated with loose stones and sand. The wind whipped up sand that blasted my skin – at one stage I had to stop until the sandstorm died down.

This however is an historical part of the Silk Roads network. Note the cobblestones, neatly embedded in the left hand lane. There was only a fleeting section of the pave, a reminder of times when the surface wasn’t so ferrel.

The Pamir River Gorge, 70km from Khargush to Lander village is known as Khargush Gorge. It begins as a wide valley but develops into a spectacular chasm.

It wasn’t all downhill, I had several steep passes to climb and ascended over 600m vertical metres while dropping from 4071m to 2817m.

It is difficult to capture the scale of the great scenery in a photo. The river is down there somewhere!

About 15km from Langar, our destination, was a wild river tributary. It is preferable to cross the stream in the morning before the sun melts more of the glaciers away. But we arrived at 6pm and the river was raging.

Karim knew of the dangers and was appropriately worried. However he had a glint of steely determination in his eye. He’d worked out what he needed to do but it was going to be tight. There were no houses or places to camp for the 70km before the river and we had no proper food left. Georgia and I were asked to ford the river because the extra weight would jeopardise the success of Karim getting the vehicle through. He first crossed half of the stream and stopped in a spot where the vehicle formed a bridge for Georgia and I to hang on to over a particularly difficult bit. Then we had to get across the next part, over a large pipe and rocks that were difficult to see in the opaque, silty water. We made it! Now it was Karim’s turn. The first attempt failed as the rear wheels were left spinning with nothing to grip. He reversed a little and then gave it full revs, just making it across. It was quite an emotional reunion, but we made it across.

It was a race against the light to cover the final 15km, mostly downhill, with the roughest track imaginable on what is meant to be a major road. I had to concentrate hard to keep the bike under control and try to avoid as many of the obstacles as possible, including being chased by aggressive dogs at one point. I was rattled to pieces and so was the bike.

We made it to Langar, where the Pamir River and the Wakhan River (that flows from the Wakhan Corridor in Afghanistan) meet to become the Panj River. It was the first village we’d seen since Murghab and the site of our guesthouse with a warm shower and good food was most welcome.

FOLLOW THE JOURNEY

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EDUCATION

An education programme in partnership with Exploring by the Seat of Your Pants, with contributions from The Royal Geographical Society and The Duke of Edinburgh’s International Award Australia. We have created a Story Map resource to anchor the programme where presentations and updates will be added as we go.

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