Riding the Pamir Highway.
Café du Cycliste ambassadors undertook a dream bikepacking trip along the historic and remote Pamir Highway…
Driven by a fascination with the history of exploration and a love of mountain adventures, Tom and Anouche, better known as Anomadventures, cycled the Pamir Highway last year. "The idea of following a route that was at once historic, remote and notoriously challenging immediately captivated us," they said, when we asked them about their experiences… Tell us more, Tom and Anouche!
You crossed five different countries, from Uzbekistan to Tajikistan. How do you prepare for a journey through such a remote region?
In reality, we mainly travelled through Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, while following some incredibly symbolic borders, particularly those of China and Afghanistan. Just being that close to them already gives you the feeling of being at the edge of the world. Preparing for a trip like this required a huge amount of anticipation. We spent a lot of time researching road conditions, altitude, temperatures and, above all, the right equipment. Tyre choice, for example, was critical given the condition of some of the tracks. We also travelled with a Garmin satellite GPS, which allowed us to navigate and send emergency signals if needed. In regions where there can be no phone coverage for days at a time, that provided real peace of mind. On the equipment side, Café du Cycliste supplied us with kit capable of handling enormous temperature swings. On the same day we could be riding in 40°C heat down in the valleys and then face temperatures close to 5°C at altitude. We therefore relied on a complete layering system: ultralight base layers, Outlands gravel gloves, waterproof jackets and warmer clothing for the high passes. There was also the administrative side, which was fairly time-consuming. Certain areas require special permits – particularly in the Pamir – so visas and authorisations need to be organised several weeks in advance.
What were your biggest concerns before leaving?
Our main concern was altitude. We’d already been above 4,000 metres during a trek on Acatenango in Guatemala, but never on a bike and never for such prolonged efforts. We knew the body can react very differently at high altitude, especially when you’re riding for several hours a day. It was clearly the biggest unknown and the thing that concerned us most before departure.
What did a typical day on the road look like? How many hours were you riding, and where did you spend the nights?
There wasn’t really a typical day. We relied heavily on how we felt. We both enjoy riding hard and pushing daily distances further than what is usually done on bikepacking trips, so each morning we would simply assess our condition and set ourselves an often ambitious target. Some days felt almost like survival missions, while others flowed much more smoothly. We generally spent between seven and eight hours in the saddle, sometimes more. Breaks were largely dictated by opportunities to resupply, which could be very rare depending on the section. For accommodation, we tried whenever possible to stay with local families. At high altitude, recovery becomes essential, and sleeping in a tent above 4,000 metres can quickly become exhausting. The first nights at altitude almost feel as though you don’t sleep at all.
Were you apprehensive about riding along the Afghan border?
We didn’t enter Afghanistan, but we spent several days riding alongside the border. It was naturally an area that impressed us a little before departure. There was a strong military presence, with checkpoints and soldiers appearing regularly. In the end, all of our interactions were very friendly, but the atmosphere remained unique. Seeing Afghan villages across the river and catching sight of Taliban flags are powerful images—sometimes even slightly unsettling. That was part of the journey too. We were there to discover places we had previously only encountered through books and travel stories, and the reality on the ground was inevitably striking.
You climbed passes above 4,000 metres. What effects did you notice on your physical condition? What does it feel like when you finally reach the top?
At that altitude, everything becomes harder. You move much more slowly, and every pedal stroke requires more effort. Even for cyclists accustomed to major Alpine climbs, the sensations are completely different. Perhaps the most surprising thing is the slightly unreal feeling caused by the lack of oxygen. At times we almost felt drunk or disconnected, as though we were in a mildly euphoric state. Then there’s the emotion of reaching the summit. In the film there’s a sequence where we hug after crossing the highest legendary pass once travelled by Marco Polo. In that moment, there’s relief, exhaustion and the realisation of what you’ve just experienced, all at once.
What was your favourite part of the trip?
Our favourite section was probably the days spent in the highest parts of the Pamir, just before and after entering Tajikistan. It was the most physically demanding part of the journey, but also the most emotionally intense. Every day seemed to push us a little further beyond our limits, surrounded by landscapes that felt completely unreal. The final days were more difficult because of fatigue and a few health issues, so those high-altitude sections remain, for us, the heart of the adventure.
What were the toughest moments of the trip?
The end of the trip was probably the hardest period. Tom suffered a severe case of food poisoning, and getting out of the mountains became extremely challenging. Temperatures sometimes exceeded 40°C, resupply opportunities were limited, and finding good-quality food for recovery was difficult. On top of that came the logistical challenges: very little phone coverage, almost no internet access, and cash machines that rarely worked properly. Sometimes we spent hours simply trying to withdraw money. In those moments, even the smallest everyday task becomes surprisingly complicated.
What are your best memories?
One of the most memorable moments was that our permit to enter the Pamir region was approved while we were already on the plane. Until the very last moment, we didn’t even know whether the trip would actually happen. We had prepared several backup plans in case the permits never arrived. When we landed in Tashkent, we also managed to mobilise a good number of the city’s taxi drivers in order to find a vehicle large enough to transport our bikes and all our equipment. It was quite surreal to watch so many drivers working together to solve the problem. We also have vivid memories of Tashkent’s great bazaar, one of the most legendary markets on the ancient Silk Road. We discovered unfamiliar spices, heard languages we had never encountered before, and tasted local fermented drinks inherited from the Soviet era, such as kvass, served from enormous metal tanks. At the time, we barely understood what we were drinking or even how much we were paying, as the local currency felt completely abstract. When one euro equals tens of thousands of Uzbek soms, every transaction becomes a small adventure. Ultimately, that’s what we remember most: an accumulation of spontaneous cultural discoveries, often brought about entirely by chance. And that spirit is exactly what comes across in the documentary.
What lessons did you take away from the trip?
More than anything, this trip reminded us that the world is always more complex and nuanced than the picture we form before we leave. We had read countless accounts of Central Asia and imagined certain landscapes, people and atmospheres. Once we arrived, many things turned out to be different from what we had expected—not better or worse, simply different. We were surprised by the cultures, languages, faces and the way people lived in these mountains. In the end, it reinforced the idea that the only real way to understand a place is to experience it for yourself.
