Anton was the first to escape the cage and rode ahead. The other three musketeers followed the trail, only stopping for a short midday snack. Oli's playlist in the background like the good ol' days made for an easy ride. No communication was needed to make a right when all of us spotted the roadsign indicating waterfalls and fishing opportunities. While the three were preparing for a plunge in the clear blue fishing pond, our forth man arrived and waved. Just like the others, he didn't need any notice to make the same decision. High fives all around to celebrate the reunion cycle day!
We fried the last of the Mehicans, a typical Belgian delicacy from the fritery, accompanied by the devil in liquid form. After we crawled in our hammocks with Oli sleeping peacefully beneath us, preferring the flat surface of the tabletop over a hammock.
With Kazakhstan on the left hand side, we continued our journey towards the big blue spot on our map. Eventhough the sky was a sea of blue, our experienced senses warned us for the rain to come. The search for shelter took a while but our hightened senses had given us plenty of time to find the right place to make a hideout. Like clockwork the pressure dropped, wind started changing and clouds gathered above us. Just in time we found an abandonned farmhouse, our favorite kind of lair. After some close inspection of the premises Yuri and Oli found something the silk road cycles had sought for a long time. A giant stack of hay blocks. We put on our safety helmets to become indestructable and started building our very own summer Iglo. We ignored our itchy limbs and the urgent need to scratch because more important tasks were at hand. Unable to comply, building in progress.
The ever changing wind had its advantages and disadvantages. The start of the day was a bit rough and discouraging until the elements turned in our favor once again. The final stretch towards lake Issyk kul flew by and before we knew it the lagooon was in sight. While we washed off the days' dirt under an oversized shower. We couldn't grasp the purpose of this surreal contraption and decided not to overthink it, shed all our layers of textile, and washed those too. It was only when the local farmer caught us off guard in the middle of this process, that we understood. We scurried away towards the bushes as he rode in on his tractor, pulling a giant watertank under our shower.