By camel across 6000kms of Gobi
Stephen McCutcheon
May 12, 2006
Four years on the road, and now I'm sat here staring out across the Taklamakan desert and the challenge that lies ahead. Camels need bringing down from the mountains and fattened up, equipment has to be bought, a decent guide found...the checklist never ends. But this now is my dream and finally I'm living it.
Eighteen months back, I was sat astride a mare outside of New Delhi, Red Fort in India. It was November 2004. A small storm of photographers buzzed around me and I wondered what the hek I was doing. Yet, all it took was a nudge in the ribs and with a high step, Rosie whisked me off along the old Silk route to Beijing in China.
The route I'd chosen wound 10,000kms through the heart of Asia, following trails worn bare by the boots of armies and the hooves of travellers. From Delhi a branch of the Silk road extended across the Indian plains into the heights of Pakistan's Himalaya and down to the main trade routes through China. Travellers like Marco Polo once skirted the deathly wastes of the Taklamakan desert before entering the open maw of the Gobi and later the rolling Mongolian grasslands to the Chinese capital.
For me, the Silk road represented the extremity of faraway lands and the ancient past. Whether of Alexander's armies or Genghis Khan's hordes, the whole region is a clash of civilizations and a merging of histories. It offered the life of a nomad. A journey across some of the world's greatest geography and through some of its greatest empires. Travellers have plodded the ancient Silk road trails for eons and it's that life I craved. Just man, beast and the lonely road ahead.
It took three weeks to complete the journey from India to Pakistan. The journey was really about riding a horse for the first time and learning to live with one 24-7. A horse is your constant companion and you can't let it down. Chilly nights were spent next to Rosie on rope beds in roadside cafes and days spent finding feed and surviving traffic on India's busiest road. India is a mad contrast of the old and new with nothing in between. Modern cities were nothing more than oases in the middle of nomads, snake charmers and Hindu pilgrims. Near to the border disaster struck when a local threw a firework behind my steed and when the border finally arrived, the army refused us entry at the last minute!
Historically it was the first time anybody had ridden from India into Pakistan and it was a proud moment. Unfortunately Rosie was refused entry due to quarantine restrictions and I left her under the care of a local saint near Delhi. After the hecticness of India, Pakistan was more relaxed. I remained there for nine months, travelling around a little visited country and being amazed at how little I knew. In April 2005, I returned to India to find Rosie had surprised everyone by delivering a foal. What was all the more remarkable was that she must have been pregnant when I bought her and she'd still managed the 500km journey to Pakistan!
By October I was ready to leave. I had a new partnership with Pakistan Television to continue filming the journey and Sponsorship with local companies. Best of all I had two new brutish Afghani mares and we were all set. Ahead lay the Himalayas and to top it off a winter crossing. This leg was going to be longer, harder but I was also better prepared.
The following three months were perhaps the most eventful of my short life. Not far into the journey, last years devastating Earthquake struck the region claiming over 73,000 lives in the process. It also caused me to reconsider continuing the ride due to the urgent need and I spent ten days assisting the relief effort. October was also the Islamic holy month of Ramadan when most Pakistani's fast from sun up to sun down. Nothing is comparable to the sound of the call to prayer echoing across the entire country as the sunsets and fasting ends. It's a time of day when the whole country celebrates as one.
It took us a month to trot across the remaining plains from the Indian border to Islamabad. Pakistan's capital lay at the feet of the Himalayas and the devastated region of the Earthquake. Passing into that region was like entering another world. One dominated by relief agencies, destruction and tents, everywhere tents. Along the route, I stayed in tent cities and spoke with the survivors. The region is a warren of small valleys with people living in extreme locations. But when the Earthquake struck, 80,000 plus villages could not be immediately reached causing obvious complications and severe loss of life.
The mountains were especially tough on the horses as we climbed high alongside the Indus River towards the Chinese border at Sust. Both horses were native to mountainous regions but still had difficulty on the icy roads. I had my pack mare on a long rope that I held in my right hand, whilst controlling the reins in my left. No food and horseshoes gradually became the biggest issues. Whereas the peaks towered around us, there was little life on the ground and we had to carry extra food and shoes to compensate, much to the disgruntlement of the pack mare.
The higher we climbed, the higher the mountains became. Glaciers often met the road and solitude became our main companion until we reached Sust. The mares again couldn't cross this border but they were at home in the mountains and a friend gave them a good home as I crossed into China.
A greater Challenge
The challenges of the Silk road have also given me the chance to tackle a greater challenge to the region. Across India, Pakistan and China, almost 600 million poor people are illiterate and lack any kind of education. This region is worse than sub-Saharan Africa. Neither can they read or write, nor do they have any opportunity to break the poverty cycle they live in, because they don't know how. An education teaches people how to take control of their lives and solve the problems of their past. As the region rapidly industrializes an education has never been more important to give people a means to compete. This is especially important for their children.
This ride is called Riding for Education. When you educate a child you educate the community as everyone gets involved. I've seen the effects on this ride. I've already visited over ten schools to show real life stores of education and how it's changed lives. The biggest aim is to raise 100,000 UK pounds for the charity ActionAid International who work in India, Pakistan and China to provide schooling to thousands of deprived children from all backgrounds. In an increasingly competitive world, educating a child gives her a level playing field on which to compete. As traditions disappear, an education provides a way to preserve them. Few things are less important.
The Taklamakan desert now stretches ahead and a ten month odyssey is about to begin. Undoubtedly this is a grand adventure and one that aims to give countless lives a future with your help. I'm asking you now, please help this ride meet it's goal and give an education to as many children as possible. An education is the biggest gift you can give someone, so please help make somebody's dream happen today.
To follow the progress of the ride across China log on to the ride's website at www.r4e.org.
Eighteen months back, I was sat astride a mare outside of New Delhi, Red Fort in India. It was November 2004. A small storm of photographers buzzed around me and I wondered what the hek I was doing. Yet, all it took was a nudge in the ribs and with a high step, Rosie whisked me off along the old Silk route to Beijing in China.
The route I'd chosen wound 10,000kms through the heart of Asia, following trails worn bare by the boots of armies and the hooves of travellers. From Delhi a branch of the Silk road extended across the Indian plains into the heights of Pakistan's Himalaya and down to the main trade routes through China. Travellers like Marco Polo once skirted the deathly wastes of the Taklamakan desert before entering the open maw of the Gobi and later the rolling Mongolian grasslands to the Chinese capital.
For me, the Silk road represented the extremity of faraway lands and the ancient past. Whether of Alexander's armies or Genghis Khan's hordes, the whole region is a clash of civilizations and a merging of histories. It offered the life of a nomad. A journey across some of the world's greatest geography and through some of its greatest empires. Travellers have plodded the ancient Silk road trails for eons and it's that life I craved. Just man, beast and the lonely road ahead.
It took three weeks to complete the journey from India to Pakistan. The journey was really about riding a horse for the first time and learning to live with one 24-7. A horse is your constant companion and you can't let it down. Chilly nights were spent next to Rosie on rope beds in roadside cafes and days spent finding feed and surviving traffic on India's busiest road. India is a mad contrast of the old and new with nothing in between. Modern cities were nothing more than oases in the middle of nomads, snake charmers and Hindu pilgrims. Near to the border disaster struck when a local threw a firework behind my steed and when the border finally arrived, the army refused us entry at the last minute!
Historically it was the first time anybody had ridden from India into Pakistan and it was a proud moment. Unfortunately Rosie was refused entry due to quarantine restrictions and I left her under the care of a local saint near Delhi. After the hecticness of India, Pakistan was more relaxed. I remained there for nine months, travelling around a little visited country and being amazed at how little I knew. In April 2005, I returned to India to find Rosie had surprised everyone by delivering a foal. What was all the more remarkable was that she must have been pregnant when I bought her and she'd still managed the 500km journey to Pakistan!
By October I was ready to leave. I had a new partnership with Pakistan Television to continue filming the journey and Sponsorship with local companies. Best of all I had two new brutish Afghani mares and we were all set. Ahead lay the Himalayas and to top it off a winter crossing. This leg was going to be longer, harder but I was also better prepared.
The following three months were perhaps the most eventful of my short life. Not far into the journey, last years devastating Earthquake struck the region claiming over 73,000 lives in the process. It also caused me to reconsider continuing the ride due to the urgent need and I spent ten days assisting the relief effort. October was also the Islamic holy month of Ramadan when most Pakistani's fast from sun up to sun down. Nothing is comparable to the sound of the call to prayer echoing across the entire country as the sunsets and fasting ends. It's a time of day when the whole country celebrates as one.
It took us a month to trot across the remaining plains from the Indian border to Islamabad. Pakistan's capital lay at the feet of the Himalayas and the devastated region of the Earthquake. Passing into that region was like entering another world. One dominated by relief agencies, destruction and tents, everywhere tents. Along the route, I stayed in tent cities and spoke with the survivors. The region is a warren of small valleys with people living in extreme locations. But when the Earthquake struck, 80,000 plus villages could not be immediately reached causing obvious complications and severe loss of life.
The mountains were especially tough on the horses as we climbed high alongside the Indus River towards the Chinese border at Sust. Both horses were native to mountainous regions but still had difficulty on the icy roads. I had my pack mare on a long rope that I held in my right hand, whilst controlling the reins in my left. No food and horseshoes gradually became the biggest issues. Whereas the peaks towered around us, there was little life on the ground and we had to carry extra food and shoes to compensate, much to the disgruntlement of the pack mare.
The higher we climbed, the higher the mountains became. Glaciers often met the road and solitude became our main companion until we reached Sust. The mares again couldn't cross this border but they were at home in the mountains and a friend gave them a good home as I crossed into China.
A greater Challenge
The challenges of the Silk road have also given me the chance to tackle a greater challenge to the region. Across India, Pakistan and China, almost 600 million poor people are illiterate and lack any kind of education. This region is worse than sub-Saharan Africa. Neither can they read or write, nor do they have any opportunity to break the poverty cycle they live in, because they don't know how. An education teaches people how to take control of their lives and solve the problems of their past. As the region rapidly industrializes an education has never been more important to give people a means to compete. This is especially important for their children.
This ride is called Riding for Education. When you educate a child you educate the community as everyone gets involved. I've seen the effects on this ride. I've already visited over ten schools to show real life stores of education and how it's changed lives. The biggest aim is to raise 100,000 UK pounds for the charity ActionAid International who work in India, Pakistan and China to provide schooling to thousands of deprived children from all backgrounds. In an increasingly competitive world, educating a child gives her a level playing field on which to compete. As traditions disappear, an education provides a way to preserve them. Few things are less important.
The Taklamakan desert now stretches ahead and a ten month odyssey is about to begin. Undoubtedly this is a grand adventure and one that aims to give countless lives a future with your help. I'm asking you now, please help this ride meet it's goal and give an education to as many children as possible. An education is the biggest gift you can give someone, so please help make somebody's dream happen today.
To follow the progress of the ride across China log on to the ride's website at www.r4e.org.
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