Rob called a rest day in the magnificent Karasu Valley for those who so desired and offered an optional hike into the upper reaches visited by rock climbers around the world. Those who wanted would ascend a steep side gulch that ended at the feet of an obelisk known as Forty-eight Ten, an impressive rock face. Only a few of the “macho men” including the Father and Son combo, took Rob up on this option.

They came back to camp late in the day with stories of a mishap that could have had dire consequences. Don got one foot caught between boulders and fell backwards, fortunately not breaking a leg. No one was carrying SAT phones, no such thing as Cells in this wilderness and it would have been days before Don could be MEDIVAC’d. My take on “mandatory evacuation insurance” for extremely remote trips like this is…bah, humbug. Resign yourself to the fact that you will probably die before help comes.

The rest of us sat in the sunshine, read, swapped stories, admired the views, a few did laundry. I washed my hair in buckets of ice cold water and enjoyed not having to hike today.

one of the high-altitude Kyrgyz camps
This trek had a spacious dining tent and we’d huddle together for dinner trying to stay warm, discuss the day, our lives, aches and pains. One night, the gathering dissolved into great hilarity when we all decided to wear our newly “boughten” Kygryz felt hats en masse. Have you ever seen such a sight? …View image… What looked good on them just looked ludicrous on us. One of the Kyrgyz horsemen made a special trip back to his home to get more of them to meet the demand. Mine is still sitting in a closet at home. After all, there’s not many occasions to make a “Kyrgyz” fashion statement.

trek group dressed for dinner in Kyrgyz hats
The next day called for a descent out of the high mountain valleys, following the Karavshin River down to a dryer and hotter elevation. River crossings, a hike through the Meshi gorge by the river to the ruins of an old adobe fortress then through a stone gateway that is the entrance into another system of valleys. Today was extremely hot, long and brutal. It went on…and on….and on… Steve and I took it so slowly that it seemed at times we were just standing still and not gaining any distance.

group rest stop in Kyrgyzstan
There was only one truly “macho man” in our group (a few others came close but Bob took the cake). Bob couldn’t stand to be passed on the trail by a woman. Any woman and would speed up whenever Martha or I came even close. Even though a tortoise could move faster then I could. Whenever ex-Marine and I approached on the trail, Bob would sit down on a rock and say he had to “take some pictures”… (As if I cared! It took enough effort just to breathe…) But today’s hike was taxing and required a tremendous amount of endurance. We slowly gained on Bob, passed and left him in our slow-moving dust. It took a good hour before he slogged into camp behind us. Suck that up, Bob!

By following Jacques’ dictum, “Go as slow as possible and get into camp without being exhausted.” we gained strength with each passing day.

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