Refuge
Between Sary Tash and Karakul lies the 4,280m Kyzyl Aart Pass.
Being eternal optimists, we decided to lighten our load by not carrying extra food.
That was a BAD decision.
Halfway up the pass, a snowstorm hit. It left us shivering in our tent, cursing that we hadn’t bought those extra Snickers.
After a couple of days, the snow melted, and we continued on. Near the summit, we met the ‘guardian angels’ of Kyzyl Aart. Without even asking, they laid hot food before us and we shoved our faces full.
It turns out that the father operates the Kyzyl Aart snowplow, and we weren’t the first cyclists to seek refuge in their home.