To be fair, I was also here, in Khabarovsk, twelve years ago as well. For my second time. But my memories of the first time are really strong.I landed here in 1997 after leaving North America for my very first time. I stayed in this Russian Far East city for two weeks with Natasha, her mom, Vikka and her dad Vitaly. They were friends of a friend of my friend, Tara Walker. I believe she met Natasha's teacher somehow and the teacher set me up with her best student to host me at the beginning of that first, six-month long trip. How little I knew!
I had set out with a notion of riding across Mongolia, crossing into Kyrgyzstan and going over the Torugart Pass to reach Kashgar from where I would ride the Karakoram Highway to Pakistan. But I didn't know that the western border at Tashanta was closed to foreigners. (It has been open now for a few years, and this is the border through which I entered Mongolia this year.) I didn't know that I would need a double entry permit if to re-enter Russia if the border had been open (Which I did have this year.). And I certainly had no idea just how difficult and potentially monotonous cycling all the way across Mongolia would be. (I had no intention of doing that this year, and certainly not without a mountain bike ) Furthermore, I had no idea about the need for a transit visa to cross Kazakhstan were I to have entered Russia again, since the railroad from Russia to Kyrgyzstan passes that way. I didn't know that the Torugart Pass was closed to foreigners.(It was six years ago that I crossed it with Marlin and Christine, our three bicycles stacked in the back of an overpriced taxi.) Yet I did manage, that first fall, to go by train and bus to Beijing, to Urumqi, and eventually to Kashgar where I was able to ride over the Kunjerab Pass and all the way to Gilgit, Pakistan. And as you know, over the years I have returned to ride to and from from Kashgar from Kyrgyzstan, to Tajikistan, back to Pakistan and across Tibet. I have really loved riding in central Asia.But it may be time to do something else.
So 14 years later I have retraced the beginning of my travel route, and I find myself on my last night, in the comfortable home of Natasha and her husband and five year old son. She has become a successful woman and mother, and still speaks excellent English. Today we ate pizza at a restaurant for lunch. It was my beacon of the change this city has undergone. Whereas four years ago, pizza was a thick slice of microwaved dough with some sort of cheese on it, sausage consisted of sliced hot dog and sauce was a curlicue squeeze of ketchup on the top; today it was a decent replica of crispy, thin crust, American pizza complete with aromatic sauce and real melted cheese. Better than Pizza Hut although no rival to Anchorage's Moose's Tooth. The city has become modern. With it's 153 year old buildings having been power-washed and repainted, and its charming setting on the banks of the Amur River. it is a destination in itself. Granted the Chinese industrial behemoth is upstream, adding to the environmental challenges. But on a small scale, the city has cleaned itself up. Sidewalks and roads have been remade. Real crosswalks and working signals that drivers heed are on every corner. Trash is no longer strewn about. And then there are parks and fountains and promenades and sculpture and attractive new buildings.It really is nice to end on such a bright and positive note.
As far as the success of my travels this summer, I am definitely pleased. I overcame challenges of intense headwind, pouring rain, driving snow, scorching heat, unridable passes and the most difficult for me, extensive solitude. I rode by myself, camped by myself and found the way when lost by myself. I put in long hours in the saddle. I was strong and determined yet I was flexible enough to change my plans when an opportunity arose . I made new friends. And I reconnected with old friends. It feels so good to be remembered, recognized and reckoned as a friend by people I met fourteen years ago.And now I am looking forward to the next chapter in this not so long life.
I had set out with a notion of riding across Mongolia, crossing into Kyrgyzstan and going over the Torugart Pass to reach Kashgar from where I would ride the Karakoram Highway to Pakistan. But I didn't know that the western border at Tashanta was closed to foreigners. (It has been open now for a few years, and this is the border through which I entered Mongolia this year.) I didn't know that I would need a double entry permit if to re-enter Russia if the border had been open (Which I did have this year.). And I certainly had no idea just how difficult and potentially monotonous cycling all the way across Mongolia would be. (I had no intention of doing that this year, and certainly not without a mountain bike ) Furthermore, I had no idea about the need for a transit visa to cross Kazakhstan were I to have entered Russia again, since the railroad from Russia to Kyrgyzstan passes that way. I didn't know that the Torugart Pass was closed to foreigners.(It was six years ago that I crossed it with Marlin and Christine, our three bicycles stacked in the back of an overpriced taxi.) Yet I did manage, that first fall, to go by train and bus to Beijing, to Urumqi, and eventually to Kashgar where I was able to ride over the Kunjerab Pass and all the way to Gilgit, Pakistan. And as you know, over the years I have returned to ride to and from from Kashgar from Kyrgyzstan, to Tajikistan, back to Pakistan and across Tibet. I have really loved riding in central Asia.But it may be time to do something else.
So 14 years later I have retraced the beginning of my travel route, and I find myself on my last night, in the comfortable home of Natasha and her husband and five year old son. She has become a successful woman and mother, and still speaks excellent English. Today we ate pizza at a restaurant for lunch. It was my beacon of the change this city has undergone. Whereas four years ago, pizza was a thick slice of microwaved dough with some sort of cheese on it, sausage consisted of sliced hot dog and sauce was a curlicue squeeze of ketchup on the top; today it was a decent replica of crispy, thin crust, American pizza complete with aromatic sauce and real melted cheese. Better than Pizza Hut although no rival to Anchorage's Moose's Tooth. The city has become modern. With it's 153 year old buildings having been power-washed and repainted, and its charming setting on the banks of the Amur River. it is a destination in itself. Granted the Chinese industrial behemoth is upstream, adding to the environmental challenges. But on a small scale, the city has cleaned itself up. Sidewalks and roads have been remade. Real crosswalks and working signals that drivers heed are on every corner. Trash is no longer strewn about. And then there are parks and fountains and promenades and sculpture and attractive new buildings.It really is nice to end on such a bright and positive note.
As far as the success of my travels this summer, I am definitely pleased. I overcame challenges of intense headwind, pouring rain, driving snow, scorching heat, unridable passes and the most difficult for me, extensive solitude. I rode by myself, camped by myself and found the way when lost by myself. I put in long hours in the saddle. I was strong and determined yet I was flexible enough to change my plans when an opportunity arose . I made new friends. And I reconnected with old friends. It feels so good to be remembered, recognized and reckoned as a friend by people I met fourteen years ago.And now I am looking forward to the next chapter in this not so long life.
