Hospitable Offers and Mountain Passes #9/13

19 September

Down a dusty bumpy road Truso Valley opens up to wide grassy fields with mineral springs that make travertine steps. Tired from hiking and battling a head wind, I was thrilled to park my bike for the night and set up my tent. I had just put the rain fly on when a young boy came walking towards me. "Come!" He said, so I zipped up my tent, snugged my bike down along side it, and followed him across the valley, over a river, and to his family's tent.
The family uses this valley to graze their sheep and cows throughout the summer. Their house was a dirt floored tent cozy warm with a fire in the stove. I was invited to sit and then food started appearing in front of me. Bread, butter, cheese, yogurt, tea, vodka, plum preserves. The family sat around the table, just watching and insisting I eat.
They kept insisting that it was too cold for my tent and I needed to stay with them. When they found out that I was by myself the boy's uncle kept offering to sleep with me. When they found out I had no children, again, the boy's uncle offered to help. Some how I managed to extract myself, stumble my way back across the river and back to my tent. Where I happily slept cold and alone.

The next morning after the ice melted off the zippers of my tent, I was packing up and the young boy appeared again. He wanted to try out all my camping equipment, so while I drank coffee he investigated to his heart's content. He was the most interested in my flashing red bike light and knife. I gave him the knife and he grinned, stayed with me for another half hour, and left.
Farther back in the valley are ruins of a fortress and a Monastery. I decided to run up the road to see. Truso is mostly uninhabited because of the recent Odessa conflict. The houses and villages are in ruins and only a handful of people live there now. By people's reaction, seeing a lone girl running along the road is not a common occurrence!
The Monastery was beautiful. Inside there was a priest and three women praying. When they saw me at the door, they invited me in, covering my pants and head with scarves and leading me in. The church was light, full of fragrant incense, and chanting. After a short while, I de-scarved myself and ran back to my bike.

 Battling a hearty headwind, I slowly made my way up Jvari Pass passing more travertine along the way. The view from the top was cold and spectacular. There is a memorial at the top with a cafe offering hot coffee and paragliding, I accepted the coffee.

Passing Georgia's most popular ski area, I zoomed down the hairpin turns, over 3000 feet of pure descent on smooth pavement, such a treat after my last week.

Reaching the valley floor, I pedaled for a little while against the wind before deciding to splurge $30 on a hotel. A hot shower and a soft bed did wonders for my morale. I spent the morning lounging, waiting for my laundry to dry, and strangely, drinking wine at 9 in the morning.

As much as I love the high mountains, the nights are frigid and the roads painfully steep. I think I'll battle the slightly lower passes In the foothills and head to wine country.