From Yasuj to Izeh

16-22 April

The environment of Yasuj is very green and we decide to take a detour via Sisakht (2200 m). This is a famous mountain village in the Dena Mountain Range of the Zagros Mountains. It harbors Iran’s second highest mountain the Alam-Kuh (4848 m). Sisakht is a good starting point for mountaineering, but we decide to rent an apartment rather than stay on the mountaineering camp site. We arrive in the pouring rain and see little of the environment. The rain is followed by thunderstorms and the electricity breaking down. The next day the sun is brilliantly shining and we get a good impression of the mountains around us. Extremely beautiful. All mountains are covered in snow and the super high pass (3300 m) that we were considering to ride we cancel because of the snow, but also because it is extremely steep. We are not yet confident enough to tackle that pass anyway. It is a pity because this route would have by-passed a long stretch on the highway between Shiraz and Isfahan, containing some long tunnels.

Tunnels

On the highway, which does have quite some traffic, including roaring monsters (huge trucks) we have to ride quite a lot of tunnels between 200-1500 m long. It appears that they don’t have a shoulder and with the roaring and blaring monsters overtaking us, initially, it is quite scary, the more because some of the trucks warn us with their horns, intimidating us even more. But after all we get used to it and in most cases the cars and trucks leave enough space for us. Only the touring buses are not willing to deviate from a straight line. Although our nerves get stronger by these exercises, our lungs must be suffering from all the off-gas we are breathing in.

Steep

There are several possibilities to avoid the highway, which we all take, even though it is longer and, in any case, quite a bit steeper. The default mode on Iran’s rural roads seems to be around 8%, which we slowly get used to. Roads are built without bridging the depths of the landscape, like is usual in the Alps. The roads simply follow the contours of the landscape with as little as square meters of tarmac as possible, resulting in very irregular altitude profiles.

Invitations all over the place

On our way from Sisakht to Lordegan we have several nice camping spots but hiding away from people is an absolute impossibility. The evening before we arrive in Lordegan we are following a rural road through a super spectacular landscape. We find the most beautiful spot to camp so far, only streaming water is missing (there is a river a few hundred metes below us). 5 Minutes after we arrive the grocery car stops by to sell us some fresh tomatoes, cucumbers and a sweet melon. Ha, fresh fruits and vegetables without having to carry them ourselves! We are super happy and are about to pitch our tent when a young teacher couple discovers us and starts a Google-translate discussion. Of course, we have to follow them because we cannot stay the night in the wilderness with all these foxes and bears around and with the cold (the latter is true).  We refuse and after a while they leave and a man and a girl on a motor cycle arrive. Also, they don’t want us to stay in the wilderness (50 m from the asphalt road) and they keep saying. ‘Come to my home. Relax’. We are determined to camp and stay in the ‘wilderness’ so we don’t give in. They go away and after a few more visits (a.o. a nomad with sheep and goats) we are on our own and can prepare a meal and relax.

11 pm surprise

At 11 pm, when we are already sleeping a motorcycle is approaching and a man with a torch is shining on our tent. ‘Hello mister, hello, please, come to my home’. Since Martin is the man he has to handle this and I listen to the conversation from my warm sleeping bag. It appears that the man is bringing us a full warm diner. Martin thanks the guy, let him write down his name and promises we bring him back the pans the day after. The next morning we open the surprise package and it contains an enormous amount of rice, roasted chicken, mixed salad, bread, coca cola, plates, alu beakers and forks and spoons. This is not the first time that we get woken up in the night by people that are very concerned about our well-being. Apparently, though camping is allowed everywhere in Iran, people do not understand that tents can be weatherproof (which becomes immediately apparent when you see the kind of tents they use for picnics). Several concerned people had already woken us up in the middle of the night when it was raining to invite them in their homes.

The next day we ride to the nearby village, get accompanied by another guy on a motorcycle to the house where the surprise-diner-man is living and discover that it was his daughter who visited us the day before, that initiated the surprise action. After a couple of cups of tea and refusing a breakfast  we leave and head for Lordegan.

In Lordegan we were not able to arrange a couchsurfing host in advance, but within 5 minutes we have found accommodation with Ahmad. Ahmad appears to be a couchsurfer as well and is living together with his fiance. Yes indeed, they are not yet married and they are living together! This is absolutely forbidden in Iran and they also touch each other in public. I ask him whether this can bring him into problems and he admits that it is unusual, but he doesn’t seem to care too much about what the neighbors say.

Uninspiring

We continue to Izeh, which takes two days. We ride through a super impressing, not to say intimidating landscape. Initially, we descend slowly into a gorge, with agriculture (a.o. rice fields) along the river. It is a very pretty landscape, but when we arrive at the bottom we are surrounded by huge rock walls and some very impressing dams are built in the Karun river. Later someone explains us that these dams were built before the revolution (when the Shah was kicked out) by French companies.

We have an uninspiring camp on the highest point behind a fuel station. It is littered and the toilets are stinking. Here I make a peculiar experience (Monica, this will sound familiar to you). I am in the toilet, trying to wash myself. My strategy is to uncover my body bit by bit and bring it into contact with some water and then dry and cover myself again quickly. I have just taken off my shirt with long sleeves when a woman enters. She almost gets a heart attack and it is probably not because of the confrontation with my naked arms, but more because she thinks I am a man. She runs out of the toilets, crying for help. I quickly put on my shirt and invite her back into the toilet. She comes and 30 seconds later she is followed by her husband. This is the last I can use during my washing action. So, I try to push him out. He says something about men and women, so I shout to him that I am a woman and that he should shut up and get out. He doesn’t seem to understand, so I make very clear to him that I am a woman by making some vulgar gestures and then slab the door in his face. Fortunately, he doesn’t come back anymore. I have the impression that people more often think I am a young man travelling with my elder brother. It is understandable, because I do not use any make-up, contrary to Iranian women who apply loads of it. Also, I have short hairs whereas Iranian women always have long hair. Finally, due to clothing laws in Iran I cannot wear my tightly cut very ladylike short-sleeved cycling shirt, but I am covered in an oversized downhill MTB shirt. No wonder people do not immediately recognize me as being a member of the female gender.

Next day in Izeh we are welcomed by Mossi’s family. He is a friend of a couchsurfer that is not in the area at the moment, but he organizes accommodation for us from Tabriz. He is sending me multiple text messages to check whether we are OK and we have several phone calls, to assure Mossi’s family is exactly fulfilling our wishes. We visit the commercial center of Izeh, with ugly buildings, but full of people and shops, very lively. Walls are painted with figures typical for Khuzestan and a car is driving around with a microphone and a flute player and singer in the back. Men wear the wide hoses that are typical for Khuzestan.  I want to buy a typical type of cookie, which looks a bit like Birnenwegge, but it has saffron, sesame and cumin seeds. I don’t get the chance to buy just one for tasting, no, Mossi insists on buying us a big bag. For our cycling energy. We visit a nearby historical site showing some reliefs in Solomon’s cave in the heart of Mt Alhak dating from the Neo Elamite culture (700 BC) and then we have dinner with the whole family. 

From Izeh we will start a longer stretch right through the mountains to Shahr-e-Kord. It is a bit tricky, because bad weather is upcoming, we are not sure about water supplies (apart from rain) and there is an enormous amount of steep climbs involved. We should be able to make it before we need to extend our visa in Isfahan. After we have contacted several people that declare that they will come to rescue us when we get into trouble, we decide to go for it.

Around Sisakht

Oak forests, snow-capped mountains and a good camping spot with a view

On to Lordegan

For our route to Lordegan we had choice of 3 different routes. We luckily chose a very scenic one with the best camping spot so far in a canyon and not at all devoid of people. The grocery man passed by, we had an interesting conversation with a teacher couple and a surprise diner was delivered in the middle of the night. In Lordegan, our host, Ahmad, brought Martin (on a motor cycle) to the police for registration (this is the official way that is not practical as most villages have no police office), but no policeman was willing to listen so they left empty handed

From Lordegan to Izeh

The landscape becomes more and more impressing and intimidating. Unfortunately, the road is also frequented by quite a lot of traffic. The Karun dams are very impressive constructions, however, the river Karun remains quite empty. The Iranian government had once chosen to build hydraulic power plants, but people say that by collecting the water in the lakes, drought is caused. Apart from the drought, the landscape also suffers quite a bit from overgrazing. Hardly any plant is left on the slopes around the Karun river. In Izeh we are welcomed by Mossi's family.