The Flyin' Liz Ryen: Onwards and Upwards to Son Kul

31 July 2022

Once down from Kegeti and ready for more after buying a carton of apple juice and some oats, I headed to Kyzart Pass. Sometimes my sit bones say enough is enough so I found a nice spot in-between two yurts to pitch my tent for the night.

The next morning I left the road for the "trekking route" to Son Kul lake. My full suspension mountain bike is slight overkill for most of the riding I'm doing, so I figured I might as well take it on a more sporty route.

The riding was fantastic and I found myself riding smooth single track along very steep side hills, crossing rivers, and dropping into an isolated valley full of yurts and herds of horses and cows.

My route took me high up to what looked like an impossible grassy headwall. Step by step and hour by hour I pushed my bike uphill. It was questionable if throwing it on my shoulders would have been easier.

At last I pushed and lifted my bike through the final rocks on the ridge and got my first glimpse of the lake. Hours of effort were quickly forgotten as the looming storm clouds urged me down off the pass. I zoomed down hill, spooking a herd of horses which galloped beside me for a bit before veering away.

The storm clouds caught up with me and with sideways hail driving me forward, I stopped at the first yurt I saw and asked the woman there if she had tea. She nodded and gestured for me to come inside. Soaking wet, I ditched my shoes and dove through the door. With hot tea, thick slices of bread, and slabs of gooey butter in my belly, I sat with the family and tested out my very rudimentary Russian. The family now knows that I have 2 dogs, one cat 2 brothers, a mother, and a husband (which they didn't believe).

They had a small yurt that they invited me to stay in and with nasty weather continuing to roll in, I was happy to say yes. In the evening I played soccer and did handstands with the kids.

In the morning there was new snow on the mountain tops and it was hard to make myself get back on my bicycle. Saying goodbye to the owner of the yurt, he wrapped me into a big bear hug, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and a hearty slap on the back.

I worked my way around the east side of the lake (the 2nd largest in Kyrgyzstan) as the sun sparked on the water and then ducked behind clouds making me scramble for my coat.

Still feeling tired legs from the day before, I decided that this is a vacation after all and stayed at one of the tourist yurt camps along the shore.

I rolled up and found myself "camping" with a group of 7 people on a guided two week cycle tour. I convinced one of them to hike up the hill behind the camp to search for petroglyphs. Success and a panoramic view of the lake. The petroglyphs are 2-3000 years old.