The road out of Tbilisi was a nightmare. There’s only one motorway leaving the city East to Azerbaijan and it was under construction, resulting in all traffic being funneled onto a tiny frontage road (me included). It was suicidal to try and share the narrow road with the semi’s and crazy Georgian drivers so I begrudgingly hopped on the broken, rutted trail posing as a sidewalk instead. My pace was abysmal and it took all day to go a measly 60km.

I’d lost all my elevation from the lower caucuses by this point and the landscape had become distinctly hotter and drier in turn. The winds had also changed and the forecast suggested headwinds until the Caspian Sea- over a week away. One nice perk of this region was the numerous roadside stands selling homemade fruit snacks. They offered a range of fruit leathers and (my favorite) a string of walnuts dipped in gummy, fruit gelatin. The treats aren’t super sweet, more like savory gummy bears, but I found they hit the spot better than anything else for sale in this part of the world.

I found another cheap guesthouse for the night. The owners had a large compound where they made and sold fancy cheese- the guesthouse more an afterthought for some extra cash. They spoke excellent English though and were beyond excited to show off their American cars to a real American. We had an awesome dinner of homemade cheese and pickled fruits and veggies before I retired for the night.

I spent my last day in Georgia cycling to the Northeast border near Balakan. There’s a great national park near there that draws many international tourists for hiking and I bumped into a nice German couple there on a long holiday and shared a lovely dinner with them at the guesthouse where I drank too much cha-cha. The next morning I changed out my Georgian Lari for Azerbaijani Manat and crossed the border just 3 km past town.

I’d read this border crossing was tiny and preferred for cycle tourists. Leaving Georgia (unlike arriving) was quick and easy. The Azerbaijani side was also uncrowded but the guards wanted to go through all my bags before they’d let me cross. They were checking to ensure I hadn’t brought a drone but quickly lost interest after the first bag they checked was full of dirty laundry…

The most apparent thing crossing into Azerbaijan is the people. Georgia was closer to Europe culturally and now I suddenly felt like I was in Turkey again. Gone were the orthodox churches and vodka, and back were the mosques and chai. Frankly, I was glad to be done with the “cha-cha” many of the Georgians imbibed as it seemed to affect their driving. The drivers on this side of the border were 10000x better than their Georgian neighbors and I felt much safer riding the shoulder here.

Further along I bumped into a cyclist coming from the other direction. He’d been cycling for 22 years (!!) and was currently doing my route in reverse. Incredibly nice guy- we talked for about 15 minutes and swapped tips for our respective roads ahead.

Still early in the day, I stopped in the next town to scout out an ATM for some cash and a new SIM for my phone. I got scammed buying the SIM but it only amounted to an extra $7 and I decided not to get too worked up.

My first night in Azerbaijan was at a cheap hotel. While walking around town, I grabbed groceries for dinner at a local supermarket. At one point, I snapped a pic which caused a nearby employee to run up and yell at me “No photos! Photo’s dangerous!”. This was obviously bizarre, but that night I looked online and found the great country of Azerbaijan had made taking photos in many places illegal for no discernible reason. Worst case scenario they delete your photo- nobody ever got fined apparently.

Now with cash, food, and SIM, I spent the night planning my route for the next week until Baku!

*Bonus Pic* “Kat” is a common word here and is on literally everything 😦

I spent my day off chilling in the town and checking out the local castle in the center. For food, one of my favorite meals in Georgia is Kachapuri. There’s different versions, but in the South it’s a bread boat filled with soft cheese and topped with butter and a runny egg. You stir it up, rip off the edges, and dip those into the fondue-esque cheesy center. It’s probably a ton of calories which suits me just fine.

Leaving town, I continued to lose elevation. The western part of the lower caucuses was very wet- nearly tropical. By contrast, the eastern side was bone dry and the scenery changed quickly to rolling tan hills.

I came across several signs from the Georgia equivalent of the DOT apologizing for the state of the roads. This is probably a cheaper solution than fixing the roads. It was also pretty ironic as these were the best roads I’d seen since Turkey.

My destination that night was a guesthouse in a small town just before Gori. Georgia has been great when it comes to lodging. I didn’t camp once as there were plenty of cheap hostel and guesthouses all over the country. They usually include a decent breakfast and more importantly, always include a dog and a cat to play with.

One quirk in this part of the world: all of the gas lines to the homes are above ground. It’s a bit unsightly and probably a huge hazard (what happens if a tall truck hits the gas line crossing the road?). Plus all the valves were right on the street and unlocked. (Note from future Kyle: it’s the same in Azerbaijan).

The next day was a short day to Gori but with 30mph headwinds, it didn’t seem short. The scenery continued to dry up, but it was beautiful all the same.

Gori is the area where Stalin was born. Back when Georgia was part of the USSR, they erected a large museum to Gori’s golden boy. It’s largely remained unchanged despite history’s generally negative view of the late dictator. It was a unique experience, like a time capsule to a museum from 1950. The museum included Stalin’s childhood home (picked up and moved under a temple) and his famous train car (he wouldn’t travel by air). Everything else in the museum was mostly just propaganda gushing about how great Stalin was though even the locals would probably object to that view nowadays.

Leaving Gori, I bumped into my first cycle tourist from China. He had come a long way already and was heading to Europe to finish. I don’t remember much from out talk except that for a bike bell, he used a Shrek squeak toy.

The rest of the ride into Tbilisi was easy and quiet. There were plenty of backroads to avoid the worst of the Georgian city traffic.

I spent a couple days in the city exploring and getting my visa arranged for Azerbaijan. Tbilisi is a modern city and had tons of international food and western brands. The old town has been greatly restored in recent years and was cool to walk around- it featured a tons of slick street art. It seemed like Tbilisi was popular with Europeans, there were many visiting here on their gap year.

Besides the cheap, carb-heavy food, my other favorite thing to consume in Georgia was the coffee. It’s served cowboy-style, thick and viscous with coffee grinds. It tastes much better than it looks…

My last day in Tbilisi was spent hanging with some cool Russians staying at the hostel with me. We checked out the castle ruins above the city and had dinner and homemade wine back in the hostel that night prepared by the owner.

I’ll be in Azerbaijan next- only about 100 miles to the border from here!

Ya boi is in Georgia!

Before entering though, I had to bike across the border from Turkey. I shared this journey with a 10km long line of semi’s. These guys took up the whole right lane (and shoulder) which meant I had to share the left lane with car traffic. Luckily, there were very few cars to speak of and those that did drive by were going extra slow to avoid hitting the countless truckers milling about outside their rigs.

The border crossing itself was hectic. I’d been spoiled so far by quiet, easy border stations. This one was packed full of lines of cars, trucks, and pedestrians. I left Turkey easily enough, but as I biked up to enter the Georgian side with the other vehicles, a guard insisted I join the pedestrian queue inside the billing. I tried to argue that I clearly have a vehicle and should be treated the same as a motorcyclist, but he wouldn’t have it. Flustered, I dismounted and led my bike into the the hoard of people being funneled into the arrivals area.

The pedestrian “queue” was actually a swarm of people shoving to get to the front where the border agents stamping passports were housed in their booths. With my large bike, unwillingness to shove, and incredibly slow Georgian officials, it took me about 1 1/2 hours to move the 40ft necessary to get to the front. One of the guards even came by to ask me why I wasn’t outside with the cars…

The fun was only starting though, once the official took my passport, he quietly reviewed each and every page for about 5 minutes. Then he called over another official and they reviewed my passport for an additional 5 minutes. Anyone who’s ever gone through customs in an airport knows that 10 minutes at the border booth is an eternity and I began to get nervous about the hold up. Abruptly and without a hint of what the issue was, he stamped my passport and sent me on my way. I then had to clumsily lift my bicycle over the turnstyles that was clearly not intended for cyclists and head for the exit. As I was leaving though, the same official yelled after me to wait. He ran up to me, checked my passport yet again. This time, he only spent about 5 seconds before deciding everything was actually okay, and then finally, I entered Georgia. Mental.

I had a short ride into Batumi, the “Las Vegas of the Black Sea”. It had a bunch of casinos and new buildings with glitzy veneer. It wasn’t really my scene and I was beat from dealing with the border, so I sourced a new SIM card, withdrew some cash, and called it a night.

The next day was pouring rain. I donned my rain gear and headed East for the Goderdzi pass. It would be roughly 85 miles and 6,500 ft of elevation gain until I crested the top. Fortunately, the road is lightly traveled and the scenery was beautiful. Lots of waterfalls, rivers, and tiny villages linked with tiny bridges.

Occasional soviet structure adorned with hammer and sickles juxtaposed frequent graffiti lambasting the Russian occupation of northern Georgia after their 2008 conflict.

There have been recent efforts by the EU and the USA to invest in Georgian infrastructure projects to kickstart the economy. It wasn’t uncommon to see the two flags on display alongside the Georgian flag.

The end of the first day of climbing was in Khulo. I found a hostel, empty except for a friendly Polish hitchiker named Patrick. Turns out the hostel owner was out-of-town and just asked any travelers who arrived to make themselves at home and leave some money on the table. I changed out of my wet clothes and settled in.

Patrick and I grabbed some Khinkali (Georgian meat dumplings) for dinner and then checked out Khulo’s main attration: the second longest cable car in Europe.

The car led to a tiny, isolated village high up on a mountain. We grabbed some coffee at the “cafe” (a picnic table with a Cafe sign), enjoyed the vista, and then called it a night.

I set off early the next morning, preparing myself mentally for a 7 hour, uphill slog.

The road disappears immediately after Khulo and transforms into a muddy, rocky mess of a trail. I honestly think I had an easier time of it than some of the small cars braving the journey. This is the only region in Georgia with a sizable Muslim population and the small remote villages had the familiar mosque silhouettes and call-to-prayer that had been so commonplace in Turkey.

It was slow going up the mountain and the dogs didn’t help. The dogs in Georgia are little bastards. Unlike everywhere else I’d been, these guys don’t give any indication they’re going to get aggressive until the absolute last second you pass by, at which point they go nuts and try and take a bite. I started preemptively dismounting and walking by any dogs I came across because they almost always gave chase if I rode past.

Right on schedule, I reached the summit after 7 hours in my granny gear. There was a new ski resort being built near the top but until it finished, the only structures were small shacks selling snacks and sodas. I enjoyed the clever graffiti some other cycle tourists had left on the sign for the soon-to-be ski resort.

Initially, I had looked forward to my well-earned descent down the other side of the pass but the road was so bad that I found myself riding the brakes and being shook senseless.

I bumped into two bikepackers headed the opposite direction. Super nice folks. We talked about our respective trips and they gave me some tips on where to stay that night. I kept riding and after about 15km, the tarmac miraculously reappeared.

I stopped for the night in Akhaltsikhe and grabbed a well-deserved dinner. I’m giving my legs a day off, and then headed East to the capital Tibilisi.

Heading east from Gerze, I stayed on the motorway along the Black Sea. The weather was perfect and the views weren’t bad either. Everything was going good. Too good…

About 20 miles from Gerze, I snagged a piece metal in my rear tire and got my first flat of the trip. It was only a pinhole leak, so I managed to ride on a few miles until I found a nice spot to attempt a repair. I pulled out the tube, found the hole, and applied the a rubber patch per the directions. This was my first time using a patch, so crossing my fingers, I reassembled the bike, inflated the tire and waited…

Everything held! Even better, a nice family stopped for a picnic nearby and gave me some fruit to snack on while I fixed my flat.

Having lost an hour, I quickened my pace. A few miles away from my intended stop in Samsun, some nice guys at a Lukoil gas station offered to let me camp in their nice yard/park beside the station. Being super nice folks, they fed me dinner AND breakfast. We chatted (with the help of google translate and some miming) all evening. Definitely one of my highlights of the whole trip.

Continuing past Samsun, there were tons of scenic vistas so I did a mix of campsites and wild camping and enjoyed the ocean while I had it. At one campsite, there was a van doing the 2019 mongol rally. I’ve seen four cars participating so far, so it must be the time of year for them to hit Turkey. They’re easy to spot because they’re the goofiest looking vehicles and always give me a lot of supportive honking when they pass by.

Heading to Trabzon, I passed through the longest tunnel to-date. Over 4 kilometers in total, it felt like some sort of never-ending purgatory. After the better part of an hour, I finally emerged to fresh air and pulled off to the side for a breather. Interestingly, there was an old phone booth here laden with stickers from other cycle tourists who’d passed through the tunnel and done the exact same thing. Being in a remote area, nobody but other cyclists would ever see these stickers. It felt really cool to be a part of this secret club that all acknowledged how much that tunnel sucked.

That would be my last tunnel for a while, as I descended back into the beach villages that occurred ever 10 or so miles along the coast. Many of these had new bike paths which I greedily hopped onto whenever one appeared.

It seemed like every one of these towns had some combination of old military jets, statues, and carnivals to populate their beaches. I even managed to see the first camels of the trip.

I stopped that night and camped near the beach. The following day was a grueling 80 miles, but I made good time with the cool weather and slight tailwinds. Unfortunately, I forgot my helmet during a run to the bakery. While looking for a bike shop in one of the coastal villages to buy a new one, some nice guys from the town helped me search . We were unsuccessful but they did hook me up with some cold Fanta followed by chai. I’m always amazed by how friendly and hospitable the people in Turkey have been.

I finished the 80 miles and set up camp overlooking the water. The campsite had a cute dog and cat which I played with most of the evening.

Below is video of my time hanging with the Lukoil guys and the bike ride along the coast.

*Bonus Vid* Not the best TV selection