Overland Journal Day 82-92: Tajikistan (Seven Lakes and the Pamir Highway)
It’s a dream come true: driving the Pamir Highway, one of the most legendary roads in the world. This desolate route takes us through bumpy mountain passes, right into no man’s land. With altitude sickness creeping in, we push ourselves to conquer the highest point of our expedition at 4,655 meters in altitude. Our goal: one of the highest border crossings on earth, the border between Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan.
Table of Contents
Preparing the Car for the Pamir Highway
After a few days in Dushanbe, our car is finally ready at the Toyota workshop. The mechanics revise the steering rack, replace the leaking oil seals on the transfer case, and secure some loose bodywork. They even manage to track down a secondhand ABS sensor—since our dashboard has been flashing that warning ever since the maintenance back in Istanbul. Finally, the dashboard is blissfully clear of warning lights!
Ahead of us lies one of the world’s highest international highways in the world: the Pamir Highway. It winds through remote, rugged mountains with rough, bumpy roads at over 4,000 meters in altitude. This is the road we’ve been eagerly anticipating since the start of our journey. Out here, car trouble isn’t an option—there are no car workshops to rely on. So, before heading out, we decide to take the car for a crucial off-road test drive.
Road Blown Up with Dynamite
We set off towards the Fann Mountains in western Tajikistan, to explore the “Seven Lakes”. A rough, unpaved path along seven crystal-clear mountain lakes. However, between lakes four and five, our journey comes to a sudden halt. Roadwork crews got a little too enthusiastic using dynamite, and the debris from the blast makes the road impassable. We’ve hit a dead end, and on the other side, cars and people are stuck with no way to turn back.
With daylight fading fast, we decide to set up camp next to the fourth lake. We’re not alone—other stranded travelers are scattered around us, pitching their tents for the night. Despite the unexpected situation, we share a pleasant evening together. The next morning, we head back to Dushanbe.
The car handles well on the drive back, but we discover a small leak in the transfer case. The flange is worn, allowing oil to escape under pressure. After one final trip to the Toyota workshop—where the entire staff waves us off with smiles—the problem is fixed. We stock up on supplies: plenty of food, spare oil, and octane booster. Fuel quality on the Pamir Highway is notoriously bad, and the booster might help improve it. Feeling confident, we finally set out for the Pamir Highway.
Driving the Pamir Highway
The Pamir Highway is one of the most legendary roads in the world. Stretching from Dushanbe in Tajikistan to Osh in Kyrgyzstan, it spans around 1,300 kilometers. We’ve planned for about two weeks on this road, wanting to soak in every spectacular view along the way. The highway takes us through the highest and most remote areas of the Pamir Mountains, with its highest point at 4,655 meters in altitude. This is the stuff dreams are made of.
The road begins with a winding gorge and a roaring river that marks the border with Afghanistan. On the other side of the river, Afghan children splash in the water, while orange and green fields stretch across the landscape. Women in veils hang laundry out to dry, and men with turbans on old motorcycles navigate the rugged terrain. It’s fascinating to see this world that feels so far away, just across the river. We find a perfect camping spot overlooking the river and the rolling green hills of Afghanistan. It’s hard to believe we’re here, living this extraordinary life.
Dusty Roadworks
Day two on the Pamir Highway throws us into one of the most frustrating stretches of the journey. About 100 kilometers of roadworks ahead, with road closures from 06:30 – 12:00 and 13:00 – 18:00. We find out that the stretch is too long to cover during the “lunch break”, so we have to wait and drive the last stretch in the dark.
The road leading up to the construction zone is already in rough shape, with blockades of stranded cars and trucks stuck along the way. By the time we reach the start of the roadworks at 2:00 p.m., we’re forced to wait until evening to continue. At 5:00 p.m., they finally let us through, but soon after, we hit yet another delay. Curious about the holdup, we park and step out to investigate, only to find a truck tipped over on its side, the trailer plunged into the river. The narrow road through the gorge is completely blocked, trapping traffic on both sides.
Rescue crews work with a tow truck to right the vehicle and, using an excavator, hoist the trailer out of the water. Hours drag by as the day light begins to fade. Eventually, the truck is back on the road, but with traffic backed up in both directions, the question remains: which way will it go? On one side, a steep mountainside; on the other, the swirling river, and beyond, curious Afghans watching the whole scene unfold. The cars on our side reverse to make room, allowing the oncoming traffic to pass through. Finally, it’s our turn to move again.
As we drive on, the roadworks kick up massive clouds of dust, making visibility almost nonexistent. Driving at night through this constant sandstorm, surrounded by wild mountain taxis, is not great. But we push through, determined to finish the roadworks section today and avoid being stuck again tomorrow. Late into the evening, we reach a local guesthouse and collapse into bed, relieved that the roadworks are finally behind us.
Bartang Valley: A Hidden Paradise
The Pamir Highway offers plenty of breathtaking side roads and detours, and we take the advice of fellow travelers to venture into the Bartang Valley. This decision leads us straight into a hidden paradise, featuring thrilling off-road trails that wind along steep cliffs, offering splendid views of the rugged mountains.
We find “Overlanders Paradise”, an ultimate camping spot in a grassy area by a river. It comes with a natural water source, a mulberry tree loaded with fruit, a plunge pool, a fire pit, and even a bridge where we can check the car properly. As we settle in, shepherds occasionally pass by with their goats, munching on the all-you-can-eat mulberries.
Sitting there, we can’t help but notice how luxurious our camping setup seems compared to the way the locals travel around. The shepherds gather wood to make a fire and boil their water, while we pull out a bottle of butane gas and light our stove with ease. They sit on stones; we relax in fold-out chairs. They rinse off in the water source, while we enjoy a quick wash in our portable camping shower. We offer them the use of our gas stove, so they don’t have to keep gathering wood, but they politely decline. They explain that using the stove isn’t economical—unsurprising in an area where people earn about $200 a year. The Bartang Valley, with its raw beauty and humble lifestyle, has a way of grounding us.
Along the Afghan Border in the Wakhan Valley
After the Bartang Valley, we opt for another detour from the Pamir Highway, known for its breathtaking views and unspoiled nature. We head toward the Wakhan Valley, traveling along the Hindu Kush, where towering mountains over 7,000 meters in altitude mark the border between Afghanistan and Pakistan. The powerful Panj River separates Afghanistan from Tajikistan, with snow-capped peaks lining both sides and vast grassy plains stretching into the horizon.
The narrow, winding dirt roads hug steep cliffs as we pass through remote villages where time seems frozen. Children cheerfully wave at us as we drive by, while small donkeys graze peacefully, oblivious to our presence. Along the way, we stop to dip into a magical hot spring, and later, hike to discover ancient petroglyphs etched into the rocks, a reminder of the valley’s rich history.
As we press on, the landscape begins to shift. The villages slowly disappear, replaced by winding mountain roads that climb higher and higher into the clouds. Soon, we find ourselves at over 4,000 meters, driving through a snowy wilderness where it’s just us and the open road. Outside the car, there’s nothing but the vast, empty plain. The road changes into a bumpy washboard surface, shaking us relentlessly. We search for the perfect speed to glide over the rough patches without losing control. On some stretches, we push the car to 90 km/h just to avoid rattling to pieces, though the ride is far from smooth or safe. By the time we make it through, night has fallen, and we reach Bulunkul, officially the coldest place in Tajikistan. With temperatures once plunging to a record -53°C, it feels like we’ve truly ventured to the edge of the world.
Altitude Sickness at 4,655 Meters Elevation
As we climb higher on the Pamir Highway, the effects of altitude sickness start to hit us hard. There’s no quick escape to lower ground, so we have no choice but to keep driving. Our destination is Murghab, the last village before the Kyrgyz border. For hours, we push through barren, desolate landscapes above 4,000 meters in altitude and seeing nothing but the occasional truck or car. It feels like we’re driving through one of the most remote places on earth, where nothing grows and little life exists.
Murghab, as the Lonely Planet perfectly puts it, “fascinates as an example of life lived in extremis. The people here are used to hard life, freezing cold in winter and furnace hot in summer, and have the knowledge to survive with very little means at their disposal.” Unfortunately, we’re not as accustomed to these extreme conditions. We wake up in Murghab with pounding headaches, palpitations, and shortness of breath. Our resting heart rates are soaring at 130 beats per minute, and our oxygen saturation has dropped to 85%. The altitude has taken a serious toll on us.
Moving forward means climbing even higher, but turning back would require days of driving to reach lower ground. So, we decide to take a much-needed rest day to acclimatize before continuing our way to the border with Kyrgyzstan. To get there, we have to cross the Ak-Baital Pass, the highest point of the Pamir Highway at 4,655 meters above sea level. Once again, we find ourselves surrounded by towering mountains and vast emptiness, passing through otherworldly landscapes where we encounter no one. Reaching the top of the pass feels euphoric (and exhausting). We’re out of breath but elated—this is the highest point of our entire journey and the highest altitude we’ve ever experienced.
As we drive this last stretch of the Pamir Highway, one of the strangest sights appears—a fence stretching for hundreds of kilometers right along the road. Built by the Chinese, it marks the land they’ve claimed in exchange for infrastructure investments in Tajikistan. It feels surreal to see such a massive fence in this remote no man’s land, but there it stands, a stark reminder of geopolitical influence even in the most isolated corners of the world.
Crossing Into Kyrgyzstan
After two weeks of navigating the breathtaking Pamir Mountains, we finally reach one of the highest border crossings in the world. We’ve heard tales from fellow travelers of long delays and corrupt officials, so we brace ourselves for a slow, tricky process. But to our surprise, the customs officers are friendly, and within 15 minutes, they wave us through to continue our journey.
However, we still have one last challenge ahead: the Kyzyl-Art Pass, a muddy, treacherous path that cuts through the no-man’s land between Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan. The road is a mix of sharp stones, waterfalls spilling over the track, and thick mud, but our car handles it like a champ. When we finally reach the Kyrgyz border, we run into another hiccup— the border post’s internet is down. This is an issue since crossing the border isn’t a simple process here. Due to a conflict in the region, the border is closed for locals. As tourists, we need special permits to drive through the Pamir region and cross into Kyrgyzstan from both the Tajik and Kyrgyz governments. Luckily, we’ve sorted all the paperwork in advance. As soon as the internet connection is restored, we’re finally cleared to cross the border into the next country of our expedition – Kyrgyzstan, here we come!
● ● ●
Follow the expedition on Instagram for real-time updates, and a lot more photos and videos!
2 Comments
Rob
Hoe gaan jullie ooit weer wennen aan het leven in Nederland? Blijft een indrukwekkende reis
Charelle
Haha, na zolang reizen kijk je ook wel weer uit naar dingen in Nederland. Dat komt vast goed. En anders moeten we maar een nieuwe gaan reis plannen… 😉