Pedaling from the Black Forest to the Yellow Sea

daily distance: 48km
total distance: 7559km
riding time: just over 2h

I mentioned that the number of visitors was a bit on the high side. They became annoying too. Thoroughly so, especially the guy that came by at midnight, approached the now dark tent in which I was sleeping and all I heard were many hellos when I came to and then “Where are you from, where are you from, Mr.?” What the …? I just shouted words I wouldn’t repeat here (and which he didn’t understand, but the message came across at any rate).

After a quick breakfast I quickly covered the short distance to Gonbad where I was going to meet up with Mohammad, the biker I had met a couple of days prior. I had decided that it was time for a break, so I did the 50km early and was done at 10am.

Once there, I was helped by a young guy by the name of Sharokh, who set me up with his internet connection and some snacks when I asked about an internet cafe. Mohammad came by immediately and I was made to feel home right away. It was time to relax, visit the city, hit the sights with a friend and some much-needed sleep in the afternoon.

Here is the most obvious sight, a tower which has lasted for more than 1000 years and which is apparently still the largest brick tower in the world. It also has a curious echo mechanism. You stand in a certain location in front of it and the echo bounces back at you in a pretty amazing way.

The city is a curious mix of cultures. Turkmen, Afghanis and a host of Central Asian people make for a large variety of sights. Dresses are the obvious give-away for Turkmen women, no chador to be seen here. The fashion police in North Tehran would have a field day, though I am not sure that some of the women would take this lightly. The head covering is only partially observed and the colors much more vibrant than anywhere else.

And cows here eat watermelons …

Towards night time we wondered the streets again, had an interesting conversation over dinner with a friend of Mohammad’s. This isn’t the first time this happenend - yet again I am told that people want to leave the country. It strikes me that many of the best and brightest keep telling me that they can’t stand to be here any longer and that they would much rather pack their bags today rather than tomorrow. Not sure what this means for the country in the long run, but the already existing brain-drain is certainly an ongoing phenomenon.

daily distance: 115km
total distance: 7511km
riding time: 6h

Early start and some good progress marked the morning. And the beauty of the whole thing was that I had the road to myself. What you ask? You are in Iran, you have a road to yourself? You must be dreaming! I was not and had to pinch myself when I was coasting on what was the old road that parallels the new highway, but runs much closer to the mountains for about 35km before being thrown back no the main highway. Sayed didn’t want to go along on the scouting mission … he missed out on some great and easy cycling on mostly smooth roads with pretty much zero traffic.

The area reminded me of the Rhine valley in some sense, albeit only on one side. The other is steppe. And it’s a bit warmer than at home. But the southern side is very similar, starting with foothills developing into higher mountains, all of which is covered with lush evergreen forest.

After 60km it was time to take a longer break and sure enough I met a German-Iranian who gave me the contact information for his relatives in Mashhad, the next major port of call. The internet cafe’s owner refused payment for the long time I spent there trying to upload some pictures, the upload being painfully slow.

The only event of real significance happened when I was about to leave Gorgan. It was hot, really hot and I have been riding with shorts, making sure that I am wearing long pants when off the bike for more than a couple of minutes. I was about to leave and was just slapping more sunscreen on my legs when I was approached pretty aggressively by a young man. He couldn’t have been more than 17 years old. Nothing seemed particularly odd about him, but he was unhappy about the shorts, that much was clear. He played around with his buckle and I thought, no need for you to drop your pants too. I understand that some people may not be happy about the sight, but have been assured by countless people now that wearing bike shorts on the bike is OK - not only by Northern Tehranis by the way. This guy wasn’t having any of it. Once he started pushing and pulling on my bike I had it. You can do anything to me, but leave the bike alone. This was not just the usual touching, but pretty heavy tearing on the cables and the like. The store owner where I had just bought some water and another one came into the scene. I never touched the guy, just trying to reason sort of, trying to show that I am biking. Thanks to the two intervenors the situation calmed down, one of them pretty much manhandling him while I was heading out. Something like this was almost to be expected given the area I am in which is more conservative. But it does serve as a stark reminder that matters here are taken into their own hands at times and that you can be on your own. But to tell the whole story, I am greeted with just as many smiles as everywhere else in this part.

The rest of the day was uneventful - had to take a heat break as I was overheating and found a little village where I was allowed to pitch on the local football pitch. The number of visitors was somewhat on the high side … and the picture shows only the small first wave.

daily distance: 92km
total distance: 7396km
riding time: 5h

Late start - I needed the sleep apparently and very slow progress to Sari. It was only 18km, but they felt like forever. My legs were not up to anything it seemed. So I took a break, bought some new headphones (the fifth on this trip I think, none of them seem to last long and some sound better than the others) and updated the website. Then it was back on the road and the usual craziness ensued in the sticky heat of Northern Iran. 

Not the best of days, the kms just didn’t seem to fly by despite not completely unfavorable winds. Then another annoying driver passed and stayed beside me for a while. He was starting to tick me off. Wanted to take a picture. Alright, take it then, but I ain’t stopping I thought. He moved ahead a couple of kms and then I saw him again. Pretty persistent so I stopped and it turned out to be a great meeting. Mohammad is a biker himself and soon enough he gave me his address in a town slightly off my route … and then drove behind me for a while. Didn’t know what to make of it and motioned that he should go ahead. He did, only to wait for me again about 5km up the road with a nectarine in hand.

He told me about a geography teacher from Iran by the name of Sayed who was also biking and who was heading in the same direction, about 20km ahead. Ouch … didn’t want to go that far without lunch. But off we went, the winds in my back at first, making for easy progress. It was a bit up and down in hot conditions and when Mohammad was gone I thought “wouldn’t it be great if he brought something to drink”. I can hear the groan already, but lo and behold a couple of minutes later he was approaching me from behind with a tangerine drink in hand which came just at the perfect time. Little Tour de France feeling (without the doping that is arguably going on there), him handing me the can out of the moving vehicle (and reaching across the passenger seat).

Once in Beshahr I was spent. I needed fuel badly. A sandwich and three bottles of soft drinks later I was up and running again. Things were good and we met up with Sayed, who is doing a 500km tour through Northern Iran. Problem was that he speaks no English, well better than my Farsi, but that doesn’t mean much. He offered that I should stay in Galugah, about 20km further East. I wanted to move further though, so we agreed to bike there together and take it from there. Mohammad was concerned about the camping part and wanted me to stick with Sayed. That wasn’t an option, our speeds were not compatible at all. I was looking for water as I was out again too soon, but couldn’t find anything until I was on the outskirts of Galugah, way further than I wanted to be. Creeped out by some youngsters who were always behind my back and asking for money I waited for Sayed. We biked into town together and in the end I decided to stay put, finishing the day off. Can’t hurt to not be biking past 5pm for a change.

We are spending the night in the offices of some environment NGO. The term shouldn’t be taken litterally. From everything I can see (and I don’t mean the ubiquitous photos of Khomeini and Chamenei), the place is government funded. Sort of like a number of NGOs in Central Asia.

Here is also the difference in how a down-to-earth Iranian writes his diary and how a spoiled little Western kid who grew up with computers and now has some terrible handwriting goes about the same task.

The guy that set everything up was nice enough though. A shower and some laundry later I was feeling fine again. Food and some drinks at the Caspian Sea finished off the day.

daily distance: 114km
total distance: 7304km
riding time: 5-6h

A sort of good night with a bit too much snoring halfway through. The kind of snoring which makes you want to go over to the guy and pinch him or hold his nose shut or something. Pretty atrocious, you see. Kind of tired when we got out of bed at 6am and after some more bumbling around I left at just before 7am for the roughly 50km to Amol.  

The downhill was still exhilerating and all along you can see the construction crews in the various stages of building the new highway. Pretty impressive stuff. The driving was not as horrible as yesterday at this early hour of Friday and so it was easy coasting for the most part.

These pictures show how the scenery changed quite a bit over the course of an hour. From rocky and very sharp-edged rock formations to gently rolling and very wooded territory with rice paddies dotted throughout the ever-wider valley. When I wanted to take a break, something happened on the bike. I could hear a sound as I was biking away from a beautiful spot where I had intended to spend a few minutes, but was approached by an older gentleman. It was slighly uphill to get back on the street and I put a bit of force on the pedals and somehow during that pushing I heard a knack, but couldn’t really place it. I just felt some slippage every now and again.

It took a while to figure out. I couldn’t see anything on the rear derailleur, neither on the front one. The chainrings were fine, so were the cogs in the back. I checked the chain, but couldn’t see anything either. So I got myself into Amol, knowing that something was up and that I had to do something about it. The slippage was tiny, but noticable every so often. Not the kind of thing you want to bike to China with, not even from Iran.

Spent three cool hours in a blazingly-fast internet connection in which it was unnecessary to go through any hoops to access the flickr site (damn the providers in Tehran) and then moved on.

More slippage when I continued. Had to take another look and then I saw it. In one of the chain links, the one where I put the chain together in Ankara, one of the two plates had been bent and thus the pin was no longer where it should be. That was no good news as I either had to shorten the chain by two links or try to put the link back the way it belonged. Easier said than done. I moved into the shade, getting things ready when a couple of guys approached me. Not the moment to do that I thought, but it turned out to be a good thing. One of them owned a hardware store (well, calling it a hole in the wall, the hole being taken up by tools is a better description) and so we went across the square. There was no way to bend the thing back into place, but one of the three wanted to give it a go. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to get the pin back into place I let him go ahead. He of course pushed the pin out entirely, then tried to replace it with a sawed-off drill bit. That was a no-go. Shortening the chain was an alternative, but Dieter from Speedzone had insisted that I take a chain lock with me and so we just replaced the missing link with the chain lock … works like a charm and should hold up alright. If worse comes to worse, I am carrying an extra chain. In the meantime, the guys had pretty much brought out half the tools in the shop, not worrying about anything getting dirty, had also seen to it that I was fed (one of them brought some chicken, rice and drinks over) and in the end gave me an adjustable wrench and a hat because they thought I might need it. Not sure how they got the idea, but hey. Thanks a bunch for helping out guys.

Here is to the Germans among you and the debate about abolishing this sign in Germany. Not that anyone here really cares about street signs …

I was heading out again in the afternoon heat. It is muggy here … and hot. A not-so-pretty combination and in contrast to the other areas of Iran you just don’t dry up ever. My shirt is covered in sweat basically all day long, which makes for some icky riding.

I found some nice spot at night time to pitch my tent, cooked up some pasta and had some more cookies for diner, replenishing the lost energy. And slumbered off into a very peaceful night.

daily distance: 142km
total distance: 7190km
riding time: 9h

This was it … heading out of Tehran. Got out later than I wanted to due to some more backing up and giving DVDs to Isabelle who also left that night for Germany. But the streets were rather empty when I hit the road just before 7am.

Made some good progress up the wrong valley and had to come back down the mountain (a 10km detour) only to hit a very busy highway. Mohsen had warned me about going up there on a weekend, but I was itching to leave Tehran ASAP.

Nasty traffic and lots of uphills made for some grueling riding over demanding terrain. A couple of walkers hit me with the flag that they carried - without intending to do so of course, but it was a close call. Heavy traffic continued all the way up the mountain, which was at about 2900m (my starting point was roughly 1500m, the total for the day was 1999m in altitude). A good workout especially given the wonderful stale air in the tunnel just before the top. Crazy Tehran driving coupled with a bad road and no visibility. But the scenery outside of the tunnel was stunning, switchbacks making for some good fun.

At the top I was welcomed by a very touristic mosque (for the Iranian tourists) and a guy giving me an apple as well as cooler temperatures. Good stuff overall. After changing into a long shirt (shorts were on as I felt rebellious and had been reasurred it would not be a problem) I made for the downhill. Not much in terms of high speeds though. The wind was straight from the front, making for slow and frustrating progress at first. Then Mount Damarvand appears with its head covered in the clouds. Still an impressive sight, the clouds brooding and giving the whole scene a gloomy feel.

Further downhills were interrupted by tunnels with no oxygen it felt (I am thankful for not having to go up there) and drivers who have no problem overtaking in tunnels amidst heavy traffic. Craziness. One guy flags me down, gives me a banana and we talk for a while.

Then it was time to find a place to camp. But there was either police, too many people or flooded access roads in the narrow valley to get to the places that I wanted to go. Or the owner of one place warns me of wild boars roaming the area. It took a while and a lot of laughter to get that one across, covering pretty much every conceivable animal.

I end up with some construction workers he tells me to go and they welcome me with open arms. What a difference to the comforts of Northern Tehran.They set me up with tea and a shower and a place to stay. It was great fun and it made for some interesting observations. 

Seniority is clearly observed here … the tea drinking goes by age I am pretty sure as there are only four cups. So I thought I would stay there when all of a sudden they talk about a restaurant. Hm … not sure what was going on. Off we go and one of the guys says to take the bike along. We left it there only for me to discover that I am brought to the actual construction site where I was to sleep in a real bed as they refused my sleeping on the floor in one of the rooms with which I would have been fine. So back to get the bike (the two places are one km apart). We cook dinner, have some good conversations (more than I thought we could do) about their work and the working times (no break during the summer really, they work seven days a week far from home) and despite some heavy snoring I crash pretty quickly.