All that separates the blue of the lake and that of the sky is a dark line of mountain peaks, serrated and snow-capped. The lake is Son-Kul, 3,000 metres above sea level; close to its shores is the village where we slept, the stoves in its yurts still smouldering, having kept at bay the chill of an impossibly star-filled night.
A child from the village pedals his small bicycle among the many lying on their sides outside the yurts. Soon they are upright and being readied by our group of 10 as we prepare for a 330km ride east, along the back roads of Kyrgyzstan, a week-long trek through the Tian Shan mountains that will take us to Issyk, the country’s largest lake. Handlebars are straightened, bikepacking bags affixed to frames, bolts tightened — though the ride’s first bumps and vibrations will still shake a few loose — before everything beds in to the rhythm and rigour of the dirt tracks and gravel roads.
We ride out into a grassland plateau, following the twin white lines of a vehicle track, more grass growing up between them. Wild horses gallop alongside, startled by the strange, wheeled creatures rolling beside them. A Londoner in the group, debuting his new bike, turns and smiles. “You don’t need much money to be happy,” he says quietly, half to himself, half to me. “Only a bicycle.”