We instantly ran into a military checkpoint where they checked our passports and visa's and Yuri let one of the young army guys try his bike while he and Anton showed their muscle on the pull up bar, leaving the army lads speechless, mouths hanging open dumbly as they stood there gaping at our strength.
They let us through and slowly we neared the long expected drop. Suddenly, a perfectly smooth tarmac lay there for us, ready to be ridden. And how we rode it! At 70km/h we rocketed down, letting out primal screams of ecstasy bellow, we scared the crap out of some cows on the road, raced past road works who encouraged us and let our minds process the endorphins. Stef stayed in the back to tape the scene, but couldn't bring himself to break for the smooth s-curves , took over and hung low, leaving his two friends far behind for the last few kilometers right before the asphalt turned into rocky road and the iron steed chevaliers had to pull their brakes.
Afghanistan lay there, only fifty meters across the wild river. We knew this mountain gorge would take us 400 km before we reach the Pamir mountains. After sheltering to avoid sunburns at noon, we relaxedly started our way up the riverside road, Afghanistan at our right hand side, Tajikistan at our left.
We quenched our thirst on the small creeks that bring the meltwaters to the main river and chose ourselves a spot with a view. Sadly, our stove decided to give out so now we're cooking on campfires again. We tried to chase down some cows, eyes locked on their fat udders. The hunt, however, was fruitless. So we made our meatless lactosefree pasta with onions as Bella the cow and her friend watched us smugly from a safe distance.