Three days into the eighth Silk Road Mountain Race, we climb to three thousand meters and the still, impossibly blue shore of Lake Son Kul, where Checkpoint 1 sits waiting at the yurt camp of Sarybulak. The riders arrive late into the night off the brutal push up Tuz Ashuu — salt-stained, nosebleeds and cut sleep behind them, the day's forty-three-degree heat traded for four degrees and hard wind on the passes above the lake. We hear from riders arriving day and night, and what it's taken to get here.
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