Every Sunday, year-round, a woman named Gulya organizes hikes to different parts of the country surrounding Dushanbe. I had arrived early Saturday morning and was still jet-lagged, but decided that the hike would be worth it, and perhaps tire me out enough to sleep through the night. The description in the expat newsletter sounded beautiful--the hike would start at almost 3000 meters (10,000 feet) and climb up to a pass at 3500m, past alpine lakes and streams. I would also meet other foreigners and hopefully make some friends in an unfamiliar city.

Saturday night I hoped I could sleep and get some rest before the hike, but at 1:30am I woke up and was unable to get back to sleep, so I got up and studied Tajiki for an hour and then fell asleep for a little while before my morning alarm went off. I forced myself to get up and organize all of my hiking gear. I hard-boiled some eggs, grabbed a piece of bread and the snacks I had purchased for lunch and headed out the door. At the meeting point, there were already about ten people waiting. I introduced myself and met Swiss, French, Germans and Hungarians. British and Americans came later as the crowd started to grow, and by the time the trip leader arrived we had become a group of about 50 people!

There were to be two hikes, because there were not enough 4x4s to take everyone to the higher trailhead. I had signed up late and was scheduled for the lower, easier hike. This hike would be more appropriate for me, since I had just arrived from sea-level and hadn't acclimatized or been at altitude in a long time, and I wasn't exactly in tip-top shape. However, being me, and with Diana arriving only in several days and therefore unable to talk sense into me, I requested to switch into the higher, more difficult hike if there was room. After dividing the group into cars, there was room in the back of a Land Cruiser for me!

The back of a Land Cruiser may not sound like the most comfortable place to sit for a 2.5 hour trip on windy and bumpy roads. However, I lived in Shamb and rode Tigran's marshrutney weekly, a trip on which little children inevitably threw-up and from which everyone exited with a thick coat of dust, feeling ill. The back of a Land Cruiser is heaven. I jumped in and hoped that I wouldn't get altitude sickness at 12,000 feet 3 hours from a polyclinic on my second day in-country.

The ride to the trail was beautiful, and our driver was the wife of the director of the Swiss development agency and had been in Tajikistan for several years. She pointed out interesting sights along the way and seemed to know a lot about the country. We were one of about seven cars headed up to the mountains for the trip, and many had diplomatic plates. To Tajiks we passed, it probably looked like a head of state's visit, but inside the cars were a bunch of raggedy hikers, not suit-clad politicians.

The first hour was nice, on a paved road, but after that it got bumpy and slow, although I was feeling fine when we got to the trailhead. One of the guides said there would be two groups: a fast group and a slow group. Good, I though to myself, I'll be able to take it easy. About fifteen minutes into the hike, though, I was behind the main group but ahead of several people when another guide caught up with me and asked, "So what have you decided? Will you go up with us or not?" I had assumed I was in the slow group, but apparently there was only one group that was going to do the while hike, and I wasn't in it!

"I'm going," I told him, and picked up the pace, which was tough, because there didn't seem to be much oxygen and I was already breathing consciously. After a couple of minutes I caught up with the group, who was taking a break. As I took off my pack to grab some water, the guide at the front said, "ok, break's over, time to go!" and everyone up and left. I swigged some water, put the bottle back in my pack, and found myself at the back of the line again, racing to keep up. This happened basically everytime the group stopped. It was like an army march, with only quick short breaks, and if you're the last in line, the break ends as soon as you arrive, meaning there's essentially no break for you. After this happened to me a few times, I took off ahead of the main groups before a break was over, arrived early at the next break spot and sat down exhausted, my first break in about two hours.

Resting felt good, and allowed me to take in the scenery around us. It was beautiful.

Although talking and hiking and the same time was a little difficult in the thin air, I was managing to hold half of a conversation with some Hungarians who were volunteering long-term with Habitat for Humanity in Dushanbe. I also met a British journalist who edited the Odyssey guidebook for Tajikistan, a huge, 700-page tome with some great information for those looking for hiking and climbing beta, or just to find out more about the country than you'd be able to from a Lonely Planet or Brandt guidebook. I'm hoping to meet one of the authors, who worked for the Aga Khan health service in the Pamir mountains and is arriving here in two days.

About two-thirds of the way into the hike, I was completely exhausted. There was little air to breathe and my legs were obviously not used to hiking uphill. I considered calling it quits. Gulya would likely run the hike again, and I would probably do better to let my body relax instead of go higher and risk altitude sickness. I had been drinking lots of water, though, a good defense against AMS, and I didn't even have a headache, which I usually get when hiking up high. What the hell, I figured, and continued climbing. Let's see what happens.

When we got close to the pass, the path was covered by snow. It felt good to be on snow in September, something I haven't had the good fortune to do in a while. I felt a burst of adrenaline and sped up the final hundred meters. The view was worth it.

The mountains surrounding us topped out at about 4400m, small for Tajikistan. Yet there were alpine glaciers running off from multiple sides, and the peaks were jagged and steep. I couldn't help but imagine the possibilities with some more time, a tent and some climbing gear, and it was all I could do to keep myself from doing the Homer Simpson drool.

Everyone hung out at the top for a while, took pictures, talked about the possibility of continuing down the other side of the path to another village some kilometers away, about how tired we all were but glad that we had made it. After 15 minutes we had to begin the trip back down, in order to make it back to Dushanbe before evening. The trip was a great introduction to Tajikistan's natural beauty, and I'm looking forward to getting outside quite often!