Over 100 km back
In Shatili I had two options: carry on south-east over the Atsunta, or retrace my steps. The Atsunta pass looks spectacular, and it’s definitely worth it. But I’m not equipped for it: crossing in a single day doesn’t seem feasible, and I haven’t brought a tent or a stove, so it will have to wait for another time.
So I turn round and head for Zhinvali. This time I won’t stop halfway; I’ll ride the whole thing in one go. It’s a lot of kilometres, but once I’m over the pass, the terrain is very much in my favour. Gently downhill all the way. But of course, first I have to get over the very long pass I came down two days ago.
Shortly after starting the climb I find the road closed. A car with nobody in it is parked across the road and, a little further on, at the bottom of a zigzag climb, I find a pile of scattered stones. And worse, a shower of stones coming down from above, where a digger is repairing the road. Now what?
From a more or less safe spot, I try waving and shouting so they’ll hear me. Thinking about it, given how far away I am, there’s no way they’re going to hear. Fortunately, it isn’t long before the digger driver sees me, stops working and waves me up. So, little by little (very little by little), I make my way up. The stones on the road slow me down enormously; some are huge and hard to get past even on foot. It takes me about ten minutes to reach the digger. I thank the driver, who asks me: “England?” After swapping “Spain” and “Madrid” with him, I carry on climbing.
The weather is cool, which is welcome on such a hard climb. This side is shorter and harder than the other, and some ramps are so steep that I have to get off and push the bike. Oddly enough, the ground isn’t always well packed either, so I sink in every now and then. All in all, pretty sticky terrain. And so, between stones and pushing the bike, I reach the top.
I feel the temperature rise as I cross to the other side. From here on, I just let go of the brakes and roll down. The descent is very long, and I end up having to pedal for quite a while. I pass a good number of lorries that kick up loads of dust, and I end up looking like I’ve been rolling around on the ground.
Before reaching the finish, I stop at a small bar for a bite to eat. It’s run by a very friendly family. The woman speaks Italian, and bit by bit we manage to understand each other. She tells me she works several months a year in Italy, at the grape harvest (or so I gather). Anyway, I was only planning to order something to fill my stomach, but I end up eating the best khinkali of the whole trip. I have to admit, though, that I got carried away by greed and ate more than I should have. Luckily, the road is still in my favour!
The last stretch is an up-and-down on tarmac that I find quite a slog. After more than 100 kilometres I arrive at the same hotel in Zhinvali where I stayed three days ago.