We made our way from Yusufeli to Yaylarlar at the base of Mt. Kackar (the summit is at about 13,000 ft). The ride was rough on Chris who was still nursing some serious stomach woes, but was otherwise some of the most picturesque and peaceful riding we've done. The narrow dirt road stayed close to the river, keeping the grade mellow and the air cool. We shared our campsite and some dinner conversation with two other travelers- the first tourists we've manage to meet.
Thunder and lightening storms are daily occurrences at this elevation (about 9,000 ft). The landscape is wet and green with vibrant patches of pink, yellow and purple wild flowers. We took the hiking mildly without any real hopes of summiting the peak. Chris is flying half-mast after days of eating little to nothing and our legs are still very much earning the elevation. With a day of extreme climbing ahead and thick clouds obscuring the view from the top, we are all willing to stand down temptation. The hike meandered through a "u" shaped valley lined by folds of water carved slopes and topped with a spine of jagged rock spires. We topped out at a snow fed lake and managed to scramble up a side slope for some more than satisfactory boulder trundling.
The following few days took us back down the valley 25k to the junction to Olingar. Our hope was to find the road over the pass and make our way back down to the Black Sea at Arhavi. We asked several people about the road (resulting in one thoughtfully hand drawn map) with many different suggestions returned. In the end we found it wise to consult the locals as we neared the various junctions. Despite the fact that we are carrying several maps, there are no clear routes for this leg of the journey. Some roads exist on one map and not the other. The Google road and relief maps we have saved on the Ipod don't have any information on this region- the roads are new and mostly unused and we found out why. Let's just say that the going was slow and the views were well earned. We biked through several showers on pass day and made our way over the top in time to catch the onset of a heavy rainstorm. The following morning was dedicated to drying out gear and maintaining the bikes- including cleaning the drivetrains and tightening break cables for the steep and bumpy ride down. We made it 10k down the road before running into a very jolly group of guys building cliff side stone chalets. They invited us to take a look around, which progressed to tea, then lunch and an eventual offer for a ride down to Arhavi. After flatting during the first 10k and losing most of the feeling in my fingers from squeezing the breaks, I was more than happy to accept. Man o man was this a good decision on all of our parts. The road was extremely rough with deep rocky ruts and enough sharp rocks and steep drops to guarantee more time consuming punctures. The 50k took us 3.5 hours in the truck and would have likely taken us an extra day to descend. None of us shy away from a good adventure, but this one would have been more painful than necessary. The views...the views were mostly obscured by the thick layer of cloud we meandered through for the majority of the ride. Every once and a while though the clouds would part just enough to see the extreme vertical drop. These hills very literally dive into the sea. It is impossible to see the top from the bottom, or the bottom from the top. Stands of trees intermittently appeared through the clouds, but looked be floating as it was, from our angle, completely impossible to see where they were rooted. We rode, three abreast, in the back bed of a massive red truck with our bikes tightly bungied to the side rails. We arrived in Arhavi just before sunset and just in time to inhale a communal trough of ice cream before spinning (sea-legged) on to Hopa.
We crossed the border to Georgia yesterday and are spending the day in Batumi before busing through the hot plains and on to the foothills of the Greater Caucus mountains. Georgia is a whole new animal with narrower roads, faster drivers, dirtier tailpipes and a whole new set of communication challenges. Wish us luck!
Thunder and lightening storms are daily occurrences at this elevation (about 9,000 ft). The landscape is wet and green with vibrant patches of pink, yellow and purple wild flowers. We took the hiking mildly without any real hopes of summiting the peak. Chris is flying half-mast after days of eating little to nothing and our legs are still very much earning the elevation. With a day of extreme climbing ahead and thick clouds obscuring the view from the top, we are all willing to stand down temptation. The hike meandered through a "u" shaped valley lined by folds of water carved slopes and topped with a spine of jagged rock spires. We topped out at a snow fed lake and managed to scramble up a side slope for some more than satisfactory boulder trundling.
The following few days took us back down the valley 25k to the junction to Olingar. Our hope was to find the road over the pass and make our way back down to the Black Sea at Arhavi. We asked several people about the road (resulting in one thoughtfully hand drawn map) with many different suggestions returned. In the end we found it wise to consult the locals as we neared the various junctions. Despite the fact that we are carrying several maps, there are no clear routes for this leg of the journey. Some roads exist on one map and not the other. The Google road and relief maps we have saved on the Ipod don't have any information on this region- the roads are new and mostly unused and we found out why. Let's just say that the going was slow and the views were well earned. We biked through several showers on pass day and made our way over the top in time to catch the onset of a heavy rainstorm. The following morning was dedicated to drying out gear and maintaining the bikes- including cleaning the drivetrains and tightening break cables for the steep and bumpy ride down. We made it 10k down the road before running into a very jolly group of guys building cliff side stone chalets. They invited us to take a look around, which progressed to tea, then lunch and an eventual offer for a ride down to Arhavi. After flatting during the first 10k and losing most of the feeling in my fingers from squeezing the breaks, I was more than happy to accept. Man o man was this a good decision on all of our parts. The road was extremely rough with deep rocky ruts and enough sharp rocks and steep drops to guarantee more time consuming punctures. The 50k took us 3.5 hours in the truck and would have likely taken us an extra day to descend. None of us shy away from a good adventure, but this one would have been more painful than necessary. The views...the views were mostly obscured by the thick layer of cloud we meandered through for the majority of the ride. Every once and a while though the clouds would part just enough to see the extreme vertical drop. These hills very literally dive into the sea. It is impossible to see the top from the bottom, or the bottom from the top. Stands of trees intermittently appeared through the clouds, but looked be floating as it was, from our angle, completely impossible to see where they were rooted. We rode, three abreast, in the back bed of a massive red truck with our bikes tightly bungied to the side rails. We arrived in Arhavi just before sunset and just in time to inhale a communal trough of ice cream before spinning (sea-legged) on to Hopa.
We crossed the border to Georgia yesterday and are spending the day in Batumi before busing through the hot plains and on to the foothills of the Greater Caucus mountains. Georgia is a whole new animal with narrower roads, faster drivers, dirtier tailpipes and a whole new set of communication challenges. Wish us luck!
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