Tag-Archive for » Joe Taylor «

Pamir B&B
Wednesday, July 22nd, 2009 / Murray
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Sun going down in our new Pamir hometown.

Dinner finished with a pack of Oreos from the US, some English tea and a round of friendly embraces.  We walked back to the car to get ready for a night of sleeping in the car…again.  As we prepared we saw two young guys walking our way.  They were hesitant and whispering between the two of them.  It was a very uncomfortable situation.  These guys seemed to be up to something.  So we rushed, trying to get in the car as quickly as possible.

Before we made it in, they walked up and started to talk with us.  They asked where we were sleeping (in hand motions).  We pointed to the car.  They shook their heads.  They pointed to a house and waved us over.  They were inviting us to sleep at their home.  We were not sure at first if we should or not.  Will mentioned the idea that they might be leading us off into trouble.  Joe mentioned they might be leading us away from the car to take something from it.  Both were legitimate concerns.  Then they pointed to the tires and fuel cans on the roof.  They were telling us to put them inside the car.  Why would they tell us to put them away if they were wanting to take something from us or to harm us?  We felt more at ease, put it away, and followed them down a path to their home.

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Home of our hosts for the night.

They lived in a traditional home for the area called a Chid.  The building is representative of the universe according to their religious and philosophical beliefs.  A great explanation of the symbolism in the house can be found at http://www.pamirs.org/pamiri%20house.htm.

We were welcomed into the house, where they immediately served us tea and prepared a meal of pasta, naan, candies, and vegetables.  Although we were still full from our earlier meal, we dug in.  This was wonderful.  From not eating at all to eating two full meals was a real treat.

The family was made up of their father (a truck driver who was gone for the evening), a mother who was in her late 30’s, two sons in their late teens, and a daughter who was PRIME age for young William.  With no electricity, the house was lit by a simple kerosene lantern.  This lantern was strategically placed on a table next to the chair.  In the chair sat the daughter, as if a display in a department store window.

Conversation started with ages, then immediately to “married?”  I pulled the same stunt as before, “I’m married, these guys are single…especially Will!”  They laughed and were quick to point out that the daughter was single as well.  Not a lot of conversation was had, but they were excellent hosts making sure we were well fed and cared for.

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Our host family...or was it Will's new family...

The large room was set up with three mats, blankets and pillows.  It felt great to sleep laying down and not in the seat of the car.  We immediately fell asleep and had a full night’s sleep.  We woke with the sun and some light stirring in the other room.  When we sat up the oldest son walked us outside to pour hot water for us to rinse our faces.

We returned to a table set with breakfast.  Naan, a bowl of what seemed to be tea mixed with a salty broth, and hot tea.  We finally convinced one of the boys to sit with us and eat, but the other family members only served us.  After some time we thanked our hosts and went to the car to give gifts to the family as a thank you.  The postcards, coins from our countries, Oreos and tea were warmly received.

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Up, Up, and Away
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray

We immediately headed out.  We had hours of driving, most of which would be along difficult roads at altitudes over 15,000 feet high.  Time was of the essence, so I took advantage of any drivable roadway I could.  There would be a stretch of road for about a half mile, followed by five or ten miles of cratered roads.

At one point I was driving along at a brisk 45 miles per hour (top speed on the “good” part of the roads) when a huge drop-off came out of nowhere.  We hit hard.  We got out to check the car and the weak part of the back left metal strap holding the wheel in place had bent again.  This time it was rubbing against the tire.  If we blew a tire our delay would be bad, so Joe and I braved the icy winds of the Pamirs in the dead of the night and hammered the strap back into place.  The hammering seemed to take forever with my weakened, flu-like state.  With the altitude and my illness, every swing of the hammer was a challenge.  But we got it, put the tire back on, and began to drive.

Like clockwork, as we would peak a hill the strap would bend back into the tire.  We realized that the welder had welded it too far back, which was adding stress to the strap and making it bend.  We had no choice but to bend it back, put the tire on, and go on until it would bend again.

Somewhere near the Najzatash-Pass (14,154 feet or 4314 meters high) the strap bent, but bent so far that the hammering was not working.  Just then a van drove over the ridge.  A couple men got out, pushed us out of the way, and pulled out a 5 foot crowbar.  They took turns in the freezing wind bending back the strap.  They bent it beyond the natural point, so it was poking out the other direction.  That was what we needed.  Or so we thought.

We thanked them, gave them a bottle of water (all they asked for) and some tea, then drove off into the night.  We were making good time.  Joe knocked out, but I had Will talking to me, which was a relief to have him holding real conversations—something I had not heard from him in two days.

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Hospital Bills
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray

I waited an hour, making the biggest fuss I could to get a car, a doctor, anything.  Finally I hear Joe pull up in Betty.  We grabbed Will and took him to the car.  We rushed to META, where they took a quick glance at Will and said, “you have to go down the mountain.”  They felt because of Will’s severe condition, the chamber would only temporarily help and the only real fix was to get him to a lower altitude as soon as possible.

“Hurry along, but go back to the hospital and ask for aspirin,” they said.  They explained that the blood-thinning of the aspirin would help ease him back as we descended.  “And don’t let him sleep,” they shouted at the car as we drove off.

We returned to the hospital and I asked the nurse for aspirin.  She shook her head.  They had no aspirin.  They were a hospital and they had no aspirin.  The nurse then began to explain that the cost of the two shots.  About 40 cents total.  Because I didn’t have any of the local currency, I tried to pay with a US dollar bill.  She gave me the “what am I going to do with that?” look and shook her head.

I went to the car, grabbed a handful of tea bags, and walked back in.  I placed them in her hands, she gave them a look, and then nodded.  Deal.  Two mystery pills and two mystery shots in the ass for a handful of tea bags from our sponsor.  That is a good deal indeed.

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This is the hospital?
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray

We arrived at a three-story whitewashed building, which gave me hope on the condition and supplies in the hospital.  Then we carried Will in.  It was not all the hospital.  It was mostly an alcohol rehab facility.  The “hospital” was only a 20 foot by 30 foot room inside the rehab unit.  Fitted with three beds (actually boxes with rugs over them), a desk and a safe, the hospital looked like little more than a really bad youth hostel.

The military doctor began to assess the situation with Will as we waited for the regular doctor to arrive.  The nurse went into the safe and pulled out what looked like an old World War II medic’s kit—about the size of a fishing tackle box.  That was the extent of their medical supplies at this hospital.  The opened a bottle and pulled out a strange yellow pill for Will to take.  Will took it as they laid him down on the bed.

That is when I realized how bad I actually was.  The stomach flu had turned and although I didn’t feel sick to my stomach, I was clearly ill.  I had a tight chest which burnt when I breathed and ached all over.  I must have been on an adrenaline high trying to get out of the river and driving down to Murgab.  The doctor gave me the mystery yellow pill and had me lay down as well.

I asked Joe to drive the doctor back to wherever he was going and to find a mechanic to fix the car. She was not in good shape before and the river could not have been good for her.  Will and I were stuck resting while we waited for the hospital doctor to return from wherever he was.  I laid down and immediately fell into a deep sleep.

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Go Up to Go Down
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray
Pamir Highway

In order to go down in altitude we had to first travel through the mountain passes you see in the background. It was a considerable climb to over 15,000 feet.

Joe and I loaded Will in the car and began to put everything back into and on the car.  This was a very difficult task after little sleep, frozen feet (we could not feel them at all), and an altitude of over 4000 meters.  The most difficult for me was collecting the container of water.  It had washed down the river to a sand bar.  I considered leaving it, but I did not want to risk us running out of water.  I hiked through the icy water and sharp rocks to the huge container which had frozen overnight.  I chugged it back, tossing it into the back of the car and after about an hour and a half packing (which would normally be about 20 minutes) we drove onwards towards Karakul and Murgab.

As our feet began to thaw, Joe and I realized that we had bruised and cut them up pretty badly.  It took hours to even begin to feel them, but as they did thaw they hurt terribly.

To be able to drop in altitude, we first had to dive through higher mountain passes of over 15,000 feet–the height of the highest mountain in Europe, Mont Blanc.  This meant we had to ascend quickly–something that was becoming more and more trying on our bodies and worried me terribly about Will’s condition.

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Courtesy of the Chinese Government
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray
River behind

The view from the "other" side of the river. Notice the Chinese border fence to the right. This is where they cut the wire to pull us out.

A couple more hours went by when two jeeps pulled up filled with people.  They all jumped out, some conversations between them went on, and one drove away leaving a jeep packed with eight people to help.  They quickly went to work trying to get us out.  First by pushing the car (a pointless move since it was buried so deep), and next by pulling it with the Jeep.  Joe had brought an old ratchet strap that he felt would work in place of a tow strap.  Will and I wondered if it would work, but Joe was very confident in its strength.  Sadly Will and I were right.  It broke repeatedly from the strain.  We moved on to ropes, which quickly snapped in half as well.  Nothing seemed to be working.

Three of the guys then wandered off to the north, following the edge of the river.  A few minutes later they came back with a long piece of large-gauge wire.  Wire cut from the border fence with China only yards away.  Joe and I looked at each other at first with horror—we didn’t think the Chinese government would be happy about that—then with excitement as we realized that it would work perfectly.

They wired it up between our car and theirs, but going the wrong direction.  Joe and I tried to explain that we had to cross the river, but they insisted on backing us up instead.  Who were we to complain?  We needed help and they were there helping.

They revved their engine, and yanked the car out, pulling it on the original bank.  Everyone cheered with excitement and we celebrated by handing out candies.  Now how do we get to the other side?  One of the guys jumped into the car and drove right back into the river, but this time drove inside the river downstream.  The water levels were lower, so there were many sandbars to drive along.  He drove on until all at once he turned and shot up the hill.  Betty struggled, but finally made it.  In the end Betty sacrificed the right side of her bumper, a mud flap, a rim, and the front-right fog light.

We tried to explain that we were in a hurry to get Will to safety, but the guys began joy-riding the car up and down the road.  We finally got them to give her back when we offered to give them a full can of fuel and some bags of tea in exchange for their help.  That was a good $30 pay day, not to mention fuel is a scarce commodity difficult to come by in these parts.  We shook hands and away they went—with our fuel AND with our funnel.

SPOT Check from Kernow Krew. We arrived at our next stop. ESN:0-7496576 Latitude:39.2296 Longitude:73.4256 Nearest Location:not known Distance:not known Time:07/21/2009 07:05:41 (US/Pacific) http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=39.2296,73.4256&ll=39.2296,73.4256&ie=UTF8&z=12&om=1

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Ill Will
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray
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Will was not doing very well. The altitude sickness was hitting him hard.

Every so often I would wake Will and check on him.  Around midnight I tried to wake Will again and he stopped responding.  He was breathing very shallow breaths, he would open his eyes, but he would not move or answer any questions.  Joe and I gave him a shake, loudly asked for responses, but nothing.  It was bad.  Really bad.  We had to get him down the mountain quickly.  We could not go back because we had already passed through the border.  The only option was to go forward.

Joe and I jumped out of the car and walked the river—the FREEZING (literally) COLD RIVER—barefoot.  The flow had reduced significantly and there were gravel-bars showing between the one side and the other, but it was still deep and flowing swiftly.  Down the river still looked too difficult.  If we wait, Will could potentially get brain damage.  If we go for it, we could be stuck in the river, or worse, be swept down the river.  We decided we had to just go for it.  It was worth the risk for Will’s health.   With frozen feet, we got back in the car and decided to just floor it.

Down the bank we went, splashed into the river, and wow, we successfully crossed.  But poor Betty is bad with hills in the best of circumstances.  Fully loaded and at high altitudes, the poor girl could not get up the six foot rise on the other side.  We slid back to the water.

So I put it in reverse, backed across the river, and tried again.  And again.  And again.  Joe and I went into emergency mode.  We took knives and cut the straps holding all the weight on the roof, tossing the tires, fuel, everything onto the bank.  I reached into the back and threw the huge container of drinking water into the rushing river, watching it flow off.  We got the car as light as we could, even getting Will to stand outside.  But nothing.

After about our eighth attempt (getting closer to the top every time), when we slid back into the river we hit a soft spot.  That was it.  We were stuck in the middle of the fast-flowing river of ice.  And to make things worse, we began to take on water.  The floorboards quickly filled with ice water.  Joe and I tried to bail out the water, but it was flowing in faster than we could scoop it out.

We were left with no other choice than to sit in the middle of the flowing river and wait.  So wait we did.  It was about midnight and we had no idea when the next person would be by.  Will was going in and out of responsiveness and the car was taking on water.  Was this the time for the 911 button on the SPOT to be pushed?  It was just after midnight, so the wait was going to be long if we just sat there.  But the next town was hours away and by the time SPOT organized a rescue team that would be hours as well.  As good of an option as the 911 seemed, we felt the response time would be longer than if we just waited for sun-up.  So we waited.  And waited.  And waited.

We left the car running the entire time, both for warmth inside the car and to keep the engine from freezing in the river making it impossible to start when rescue did arrive.  Joe sat in the front-right (less water on the floorboard), I sat in the back center, just past the deepest water, and Will sat back right.  I tried to keep Will alert, but it was nearly impossible, so I resorted to just reminding him to breathe deeply.

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Bridge? What Bridge?
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray
Pamir Highway views

View from the Pamir Highway just after the border post entering Tajikistan from Kyrgyzstan.

About 10 minutes down the road we stopped to take a quick pee break. Will was clearly getting more and more lethargic. It was not just the stomach flu. He was suffering from altitude sickness—a very serious issue that we had been repeatedly warned to watch for by Sophie from the Rally. The only solution was to get to a lower altitude, so we drove as quickly as broken Betty would allow.  If we didn’t act quickly enough, Will could suffer permanent brain damage or death.

As we were driving, a large truck going the other direction pulled up. A guy jumped out and went to Joe’s window. “Roll down the window” he said in very good English. “No,” Joe responded, remembering Osh. “OK,” he began to yell, “the bridge is gone, you must drive down the river 500 meters to cross. You will not be able to cross in that otherwise.” “Thanks,” Joe yelled through his still-closed window.

They drove off and we proceeded forward. We got to the river and sure enough, no bridge. The water was running swiftly and you could not see the bottom in most places. The bank had a ramp down to the river with one up on the other side, but the flow was obviously too swift to cross.

Waiting We drove along the river bank as recommended for 500, 600, even 700 meters and nothing. We saw plenty of places where we could get into the river, but no places where we could get OUT of the river. We drove back to the road and began to assess our options. We decided our best course of action was to wait to see where someone else crossed and follow them. So we got comfortable and nestled in for the wait.

SPOT Check from Kernow Krew. We arrived at our next stop. ESN:0-7496576 Latitude:39.2296 Longitude:73.4256 Nearest Location:not known Distance:not known Time:07/21/2009 07:05:41 (US/Pacific) http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=39.2296,73.4256&ll=39.2296,73.4256&ie=UTF8&z=12&om=1

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Who is this Krew?
Thursday, June 25th, 2009 / Murray

Time to do a little team introduction.  Joe and Will were kind enough to send me great photos of themselves for me to post.  Then I got copies of their passports.  Passport photos seemed much more fun.  At least to me.  On to the introductions:

The Kernow Krew

Joseph William Taylor

Team Physician and Window Washer

Team Physician and Window Washer

Joseph Taylor is the godfather and mastermind behind the Kernow Krew.  Hailing from Truro, UK, deep in the heart of Cornwall, Joe created the Krew with the idea of forming the team by bringing together strangers to add intrigue to adventure.  Joe brings experience doing body work and restoring classic cars.  Sadly this experience does not include mechanical skills under the hood.  So though we might be stranded on the side of the road in the middle of Kazakhstan, the car will always look great.  Joe intends on starting EMT training with the Cornwall Search & Rescue, again just in time to NOT use it on the rally.  If that career path does not work out he is considering becoming either a supervillain or Ethan Hawke look-alike.  Come to think of it, is there really any difference?

William Louis Lowry

Team Cook & Flat Tire Changer

Team Cook & Flat Tire Changer

William Lowry came upon the Kernow Krew from a posting Joe had made on a gap-year website.  Seeing the opportunity for extreme adventure, Will hopped on board what will be a trip that will drive him into manhood.  No, really, he turns 18 just as our tour ends.  So as we drive to the end of our tour Will also drives out of his youth.  How poetic.  A student at Truro College and chef at a Cornish restaurant, Will is going to have his culinary skills put to the challenge on the rally.  The big question is how many dishes can he make with Ramen Noodles?

Murray Alden Johnson, III

Team Navigator & Hostage Negotiator

Team Navigator & Hostage Negotiator

It is only fair for me to show my passport photo too.  Fortunately for me, unlike other countries, the US Government allows you to smile in the photos.  Unfortunately, if/when we get into trouble I am going to have to generate a smile for the authorities so I match up with my pic.  I will serve as village elder and senior statesman on the trip.  I also bring down the cost of auto insurance considerably due to the fact that I could have legally driven Mrs. Lowry to the hospital to give birth to young Will.  Sad, but true.  Sure, we are only as old as we feel, but the past few weeks would have me aging considerably.  As Will becomes a man I hope to move backwards and regain some of that lost youth.  One can only hope.

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Members lost

The Kernow Krew has had nearly as many team member changes as it has route changes.  Here are our comrades sadly lost to circumstance:

Timothy Lord

Timothy Lord of Newquay, UK, read Joe’s posting on the Rally website and heeded its calling.  Ready for a break from the trials of law school (excuse the bad pun), Tim was eager to join up to further establish the Cornish influence in the Krew.  In a move in line with the shekel-snatching industry to which he is training to join, Tim chose to take a lucrative job opportunity that would not allow for such a dramatic time off.  We are sad to see him make a foolish decision to further his career and future over risking his life while getting sores on his bum from sitting 6 weeks in a car.  Tim, you will be missed.  Though we never met, I was looking forward to having you to at least help bridge the age gap between me and the rest of the team.

Antough Kuzin

Antough “Tony” Kuzin is the creative Ukrainian genius behind the design of the blog you see here.  While putting in extreme effort and considerable talent, Tony and I had the opportunity to chat online.  The chats often strayed away from web design talk, entering into polite conversation and movie quotes.  I noted how good his English was, to which he explained he had worked as a translator in summer camps.  I suggested he apply that talent and become a translator for the Krew.  Tony jumped at the opportunity and started the process to get his passport.  The Ukrainian government had a different idea.  Timing would not allow us to benefit from Tony’s multilingual skills and musical talents (yes, he was going to play guitar for us along the way).

Vitaliy Kurat

Vitaliy “Tough” Kurat edged into the running for Krew member by request of Tony.  The team was not sure about breaking the tradition of no one knowing another team member prior to the Krew, but decided to allow him to join after his showing of dedication to the cause by volunteering to lay in the middle of the road naked if necessary.  Nudity not being a prerequisite to joining, a fully-clothed Tough was going to be welcomed onto the Krew with the hopes that two Russian/English/Ukrainian speakers are better than one–plus a two-man Ukrazian (a term coined by Joe) comedy act could be great fun.  Yet Tough met the same fate as Tony with the passport difficulties preventing him from joining us on the great adventure.  The Krew has enjoyed the planning and idea of the Ukrazians so much that we are committing to route our journey through their home town and spending time hanging out; clothing mandatory.

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How did this happen?
Wednesday, June 17th, 2009 / Murray

A better way to put it is probably “what was I thinking signing on to this?!?”

Originally I was planning to go on a different adventure rally in South America.  Circumstances came about to keep me from doing this, so I was back to no trip and an itch for adventure.  Some late-night internet browsing and I found the charityrallies.org site.  On the forum there was a posting from Joe Taylor offering up a spot on a team.  I shot him an email and he immediately responded with a “you’re in”.  Obviously he was desperate.

Well, after a dry-spell of travel I had a lot of ground to make up.  The best way I figured to do it is go big.  Riding across impossible terrain in an unreliable car with guys I’ve never met seems to fit the criteria.

In an email from my friend and geopolitical expert Barton Hays, he said:

“The trip you are planning sounds terrifying. I’ll be worried about you the entire time! Please let us know when you are back into civilization…Jesus Murr, crawling through New Your City naked & on your knees would have been safer! Do you know how to say AK47 in Kazak?”

Am I nervous?  No.  Should I be?  Probably.  But that’s what I’ve got Mom for.  She is nervous enough for the both of us.

And Bart, I’m still looking for the translation.

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