Dushanbe – Iskanderkul

8th August 2014        24-32’C        202km
Dushanbe – Iskanderkul N39°5.0439 E68°22.0779

I started out from Dushanbe at around 10am, heading north on the main road, where I was happily waved through the numerous road toll gates without paying by the security guards. Heading up into the Fann mountains, magnificent peaks surrounded me on all sides, winter snow still present despite the hot temperatures.

I reached the ominous “Tunnel of Death” a 7km tunnel, bored through the mountain to avoid a difficult and steep 3700M pass.  The tunnel has no illumination, no ventilation, the roof has caved in at some sections.  The ‘road’ surface consisted of broken up concrete, steel reinforcing poking out.  Discarded machinery left in the tunnel makes for further obstacles.  Two huge ventilation fans, never installed, sit in the water in the middle of the lane.  Deep water runs though the tunnel, upto 3ft deep in places, the resulting mud making everything slippery. Huge potholes and drop-offs occur every few meters.   Cars and trucks, some without headlights, push through the darkness, trying to overtake wildly.
If that wasn’t enough, some parts of tunnel are only wide enough for a single lane of traffic.   This was full on off-road riding, underground.

I worked my way though the darkness, trying to let my eyes adjust, although the dense exhaust fumes burn my eyes.  The first few hundred metres seem manageable, before it just begins to get worse and worse.  A few years ago, when a car broke down and traffic was stuck in the tunnel, 4 people died of carbon monoxide poisoning.
I looked down at the odometer, which indicated I’d only travelled 1.2km in, there was still six times the distance to cover, and I already just wanted it to be over. I wished I was on the other side.
I was nearly 6km through the pitch darkness, covered in mud, when I reached another single lane section.  A car and a truck had met head on, and traffic was backed up at least 12 cars deep on my side, and I could see dozens of trucks on the other side.  Nothing was moving anywhere, the cars and trucks idling, pumping out yet more fumes, and it was hot and sticky, bathed in vehicle exhaust.  People had gotten out of their cars, and were arguing about who should reverse and where.   I weaved through the haze and traffic, hoping to bypass the whole mess before I was overcome by fumes. I was sweating now. Anxious and hot.
I reached a part where I could not go further forward, a truck made the path too narrow.  Someone indicated I should also wait, but I wasn’t going to sit in here and choke.  I asked a big guy to help me push the bike around and I turned back to ride the 6km to the entrance.  I couldn’t believe I was riding this again, being in here in the first place was absurdity of the highest degree.
I passed a bottle of water in the middle of the tunnel, and realised it was mine. It had shaken loose on one of the drop-offs.   I finally exited the tunnel, back in clear air.  I parked the bike and got off, washing out my eyes and regaining my senses.   I’m sure I’ve shortened my life by some number of days through this experience.  I waited at the tunnel entrance for 40 minutes, hoping foolishly, that the tunnel jam would clear and the air would magically be restored to breathable.  Neither occurred, and I decided to try riding over the mountain pass, despite information that said it was now closed.
The pass was steep, and I never left 1st or 2nd gear for 40 minutes as I climbed the rock trail. Despite the hard climb, the view was so much more enjoyable than the crazy tunnel, and I stopped at the pass for photos, before descending to the river on the other side.
I was now within reach of my destination, Iskanderkul Lake.

The lake is a beautiful turquoise blue/green colour, surrounded by high peaks, it is quite spectacular.  I found a great place to camp, right beside the lake and after setting up the tent, cooked some dinner and prepared for some well deserved rest.