Crossing Tusheti
15 lutego 2024
What happens when you get the chance of a lifetime to ride some beautiful, rarely explored terrain, in the Caucasus Mountains? 160kms of wild fun and a whole lot of adventure - don't just take our word for it, read all about Henna and Sabine's ride from Stepantsminda to Omalo.
"We" included a mountain bike and ski guide Sabine and me, Henna, an all-round adventurer who was used to bikepacking with a gravel bike, as well as filmmaker Fabian and photographer Moritz.
We rode out of Stepantsminda, following an easy gravel road till Juta, where we turned into a small track that shot straight up. There was no doubt that this track was made for hikers, not for bikers. "I guess this is a little taste of what's to come," Sabine said, and we all glanced at each other. Nervousness about what lay ahead crept in as we pushed our bikes all the way to our first camp spot as the thunder rolled over the mountains next to us. Maybe this should have remained just an idea.
The long and heavy hike-a-bike to the 3,338 meters high Chaukhi pass, the crisp wind over the glacier, a high alpine descent with sketchy loose rocks followed by unrideable switchbacks, heavy rain, missing a turn, bushwhacking to get back on the trail, doing a sketchy river crossing, and Henna crashing on the last bit when her handlebar bag locked her front wheel made us all more than exhausted, but now a day after, this all started to feel like a good idea again. Even though a group of hikers had reached the top way faster than us, it still made us question our choice of equipment.
By the time we started the big push up to Atsunto pass, our bodies had started to get into the rhythm of knowing when to push the bike, when to carry it, and when to have a break. As we were sitting down having a break, two passing hikers shared the best news of the day: “They sell Coca-cola and Fanta next to the border station.” However, none of us was in a hurry to move; we all just sat there, taking in the panorama and grinning from ear to ear. "I believe I'd rather be nowhere else right now, in my sweaty clothes," Sabine said, smiling. The others nodded in agreement. We all seemed to share a similar idea of "fun," even if it might seem absurd to other people.
Vegetation took over again, and we zigzagged down to the valley floor in wide arcs. "It feels so surreal to ride for so long without needing to walk the bike," Henna yelled. It was almost as if the hard-earned descent felt so good now precisely because of the effort of the past days, like reaching a goal after a long run. Just with more adrenaline. The wide grass slopes glistened in the afternoon sun, and there was still snow on the mountaintops.
It’s not every day you get to ride among the horses. It’s also not every day you get to ride in the Caucasus mountains, but when you do, you will remember it forever.
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