I spent all of the first day riding on washboards, hoping that it wouldn't be the same for the next 1000 miles to UB. It was very hard on the suspension. Trying to float over them at high speed -like the locals do- felt very dangerous, and there was no in-between. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn't doing proper mileage. I couldn't ride on the third gear for long enough to maintain a proper speed. There was always some sort of an obstacle ahead. There was a gravel stretch for a few miles where I felt comfortable to do 60 mph. But even that didn't last long. For the first time since I began 5 months ago, I fell down. I don't mean dropping it at low speed. I mean falling down properly! I immediately picked up the bike to check for damage. Nothing seemed to be out ...Read More
I used to have a recurring dream when I was a little boy. In fact, it was more like a nightmare, surfacing from the depths of my mind, whenever I was sick with high fever.
I'm in a desert, trying to walk on top of a white (oil?) pipeline suspended in the air, half a meter from the ground. It extends towards the horizon for as long as the eye can see. I try to keep in balance on the round surface like a tightrope walker. It's hard, and I sometimes fall down on the ground. It's not a sandy desert. There are sharp rocks all around. But the surface seems to flex down when I step on the rocks with my bare feet. As if there is a very soft material below the sharp rocks. The rocks still hurt bad enough, so I climb back on the pipe and ...Read More
The Kyrgyz side of the border was so easy to cross, it will be hard to describe. I knocked on the the door to notify the soldier of my arrival. He wouldn't know if I entered on my own will. He put on his hat. It had a soviet emblem on it. Looks like they didn't feel any need to change the uniform after the independence. He called his friend to have his photo taken on the bike. When that was over, I reminded that I was actually there to cross the border. So they asked for my passport. They looked at other visas and colorful pages and asked if I had a Kyrgyz one. I said "No" and told them that Turkish citizens didn't need one. They didn't know about that but didn't bother checking the book. He stamped my passport and told me to go. I asked for ...Read More
I planned to ride to Tashkent from Samarkand until I came across a border crossing on the main road. It was surprising to see one because my maps indicated a straight highway within Uzbekistan. It seems like Kazakhstan has claimed some of this land recently so I would have to exit Uzbekistan if I wanted to continue. Having a single entry Uzbek visa I decided to take the southern route to Fargana Valley. It felt a little rebellious to steer away from the capital, the control freak central authority to this fertile and disobedient valley where the infamous Andijon events took place.
It was late in the evening when I entered Angren, the last city before the mountain pass into the valley. A taxi driver helped me find the hotel. As usual, there are no signs displayed on the exterior of the building. They just expect you to know it. ...Read More
I left Bukhara after an unsuccessful internet connection attempt. When I left the cafe, there were a dozen little Bukharan boys on bicycles admiring my motorcycle. I may be a little older, motorized, and a bit further away from home, but basicly we belong to the same category. Boys on wheels! We played a bit and I gave them some baloons. Then they escorted me out of the center since the road I came two days ago was now closed.
On the road, I met some other boys in uniforms with guns and sticks. They were doing radar speed checks ad pulled me over. I gave them cigarettes and started talking with my silly Turkish accent. I talked so much that they had to forget why they pulled me over. Pushing my luck even further, I asked them if they could take a photo of me with the radar gun on ...Read More
It feels great to be back on the road. Being able to move around with ease... I rode almost 20 hours through the Ustyurt Plateau and the Karakalpak autonomous region. This section was worrying me a little bit. The roads in the area are not listed on most maps. There is a railroad but the satellite images were showing mostly dirt tracks scattered around the area. I assumed it wouldn't be easy so left very early in the morning after a warm farewell.
The asphalt ended shortly after Beyneu as I expected. But the grading was much better than I thought it would be. I could easily do speeds above 60 kmph on these gravel parts, and it continued up until the Uzbek border. Even the previous days storm was working in my advantage because the clouds were bringing the temperature down to comfortable levels. I stopped only once at the ...Read More
I woke up wishing that the previous day was just a bad dream. But that didn't last long. The nearest DHL office was in Atrau. Around 500kms from where I was... I somehow needed to go there and started thinking about options.
• Wrapping an inner tube around the spring to achieve a primitive dampening.
• Trying to load the bike on a train.
• Leaving the bike and most of my stuff in Beyneu and taking the train.
In either case I had to find a cheap and safe place to stay until the part was ready for pick-up. A week ago, while waiting for the ferry in Baku, I was reading a thread about the area on HorizonsUnlimited.com. One of the guys had mentioned an old Russian motocross champion living in Beyneu and even gave directions to his shop which I luckily had noted down in my scrapbook. I decided to pay ...Read More
