Post-Expedition Update: Phil and Carter really did bike the Silk Road
Post-Expedition Update: Phil and Carter really did bike the Silk Road
Holy Shit They Actually Did It
The last time you heard from me, there was still a hole in my stomach, I was still off-the-books in a Kazakh hospital, and the expedition’s fate was still very much up in the air…
How’s that for suspense, huh?
Since then, Phil and I have seen Kyrgyz sheep struck by lightning, slept in ancient Uzbek caravanserai, stowed-away on a Caspian cargo ship, survived Georgia’s most dangerous road, blundered through Albanian bunkers, tip-toed into Bosnian bat tunnels, conquered THE Swiss Alps, savored award-winning French fondue, and soaked in both ends of the Mediterranean.
We biked 16750 kilometers, traversed 19 countries, carried 89 pounds of gear (each), and did it all in just 245 days. That’s right, folks… somehow, we made it all the way to Barcelona.
It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. No question. It might be my proudest accomplishment. And it’s an adventure I’ll always share with one of the best people I know.
With our expedition now in the rear view of my tiny helmet mirror, it seems like an opportune time to resurrect the old newsletter, eh? In this end-of-the-road special edition, I’ll catch you up to speed on where we are now, pepper in a few sneak-peaks, and pave the way for the rest of the story (to be released over the coming weeks/months). Buckle up! It’s a wild ride.
In case you forgot during the year-long hiatus: Our names are Carter and Phil, and we spent this past year cycling the Silk Road.
Survival of the Fittest
Let me start by sharing that I am happy and healthy.
Nearly bleeding out in Kazakhstan was a bad look, for sure… but 8 months of sunshine, fresh air, and nonstop exercise does wonders for the body. Nothing is quite so restorative as a grueling adventure.
Okay fine, my gut health isn’t what it used to be, and it feels wrong to sit on anything that isn’t a bike seat. But I look good. I feel strong. My legs are massive. My ass is juicy.
Take it from me: Skip the gym and buy a bicycle. Here’s my custom workout plan:
Follow this line, and I swear you’ll be in the best shape of your life. Sure, the muscles of your upper body will melt into your legs, but how often do you really need your arms to lift heavy things? Besides, no one will ever accuse you of skipping leg day.
Our final list of countries by bike: Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, Azerbaijan, Georgia, Turkey, Greece, North Macedonia, Albania, Montenegro, Bosnia & Herzegovina, Croatia, Slovenia, Italy, Austria, Switzerland, France, and Spain.
Each one was an adventure in itself, as wild and strange as the next. You’ll read about them all in due time, and I’ll take extra care to highlight my favorites.
A Tasty Teaser (a little treat, if you will)
A self-propelled, ultra-light, and voraciously-hungry team of two, Phil and I abandoned our consulting jobs to chase the sunset on two wheels. We lived in a 7’ x 5’ tent and survived on the bare minimum for 8-months. We rose with the sun and daily tested ourselves on the open road.
In the newsletters to come, you’ll read about punishing weeks in the saddle. Temperatures over 108°F and well below freezing. Rain that refused to relent for days on end. Cuts and bruises, lost shoes, melted gears, sticky shifters, a broken stove, crushed nalgene, shattered camera, twisted ankle, ripped pants, fried electronics, snapped tent poles, police questioning, and the cultivation of a resilience mindset. It was a transformative year, and I’ve likely changed in more ways than I’m aware…
Anyway, too many spoilers make for a bad trailer, and I would hate to ruin the movie. We’re saving the full expedition recap for the final edition, so you’ll have to wait until the end for my mushy gushy this-trip-was-life-changing takeaways.
Repatriation?
Phil loves to wax poetic about returning to the States. There’s no greater feeling, he says, than handing the customs officer your passport and hearing, “Welcome home.” Phil Piasecki. Patriot. American hero.
He talks a big game, but the fact is this man has yet to set foot on American soil. Last I heard, Phil was flaunting his Spanish passport and lounging in the Canaries. He spends his days surfing and hiking with a rotating cast of gorgeous women at his hostel. Keep him in your thoughts; it’s a hard life.
For my part, I wanted to invest my newly-acquired time in relationships back home, and the looming threat of deportation proved good motivation to get there.
My homecoming tour included stops in Chicago, Atlanta, Toronto, and, of course, a whirlwind two weeks with the homies in NYC. That first night, my besties’ band, Hiding Places, headlined a sold-out show in Manhattan. They played my favorite song and brought all my favorite New Yorkers under one roof. Going through customs is nice, but walking into a bar full of friends is better. My heart sang.
Now and Later…
I’m posted up on the west coast while I reflect on the expedition. San Diego is gorgeous. Rain has painted the hills a vigorous green, and the flowers are in full bloom.
It's a sleepy kind of living. I write. I cook. The dog takes me on long slow walks. I develop photos from the trip while I listen to audiobooks. I fix things around the house and sit with my 80-year-old grandfather, college basketball on the TV. When the sun is good, I drop everything and lie out on the terrace. There's a perfect breeze each day at 2:30. The wind chimes know all my favorite songs.
If I want to fund future adventures, I’ll need to go back to work at some point, ideally at a job that surrounds me with people who love generously, spend their weekends outside, and actively conspire to save the planet. We met all sorts of incredible humans this past year, but our time with them was always fleeting. Community is the thing I craved most on the Silk Road, and it’s my priority going forward.
After that, who knows? I still hope to be a wilderness guide, convert a van, visit all the national parks, open a brewery, write a book about my dad, hike the PCT, motorbike through South America, find my way to Broadway, join a band, and win Survivor on CBS. Not necessarily in that order.
Phil’s plan for the next year will be guided by his time at a 10-day silent meditation retreat that teaches the origins of Buddhism. His search for enlightenment will include a pilgrimage through Japan, a sailing course in Norway, and many other boring, forgettable ventures, I’m sure. Yawn. Don’t expect to see him back home anytime soon.
Official Re-Launch
When we set out to bike the Silk Road, I resolved to write weekly, sharing the adventure as much for my benefit as yours. Nevermind that I’d be busy biking all day, every day. Surely, I would find the time.
More often than not, however, ten straight hours of physical exertion was as much as I could manage. My brain turned to mush with the setting sun, and I was asleep before my face hit the pillow (or in this case, a jacket stuffed inside another jacket). One week without writing became two. Two became ten. Friends back home started placing bets on what country we’d reach by the time the next “weekly” newsletter finally arrived. It’s been a long wait, but now you have your answer: the good ol’ US of A.
Now, I’ve been one poor correspondent
And I’ve been too, too hard to find
But it doesn’t mean you aint been on my mind
- 1975 Billboard Hot 100 hit single “Sister Golden Hair” by America
To those of you who have been invested in our story since the beginning, thank you for being patient with me! I am learning to be more patient with myself <3
Going forward, I plan to continue the newsletter as a retrospective diary of our travels, week-to-week. The challenges we faced, the wonders we saw, the people we met. If you want me to write in more detail about a particular experience or are curious to hear my thoughts on a random topic (e.g., camp life, gear list, Phil being Phil), let me know by emailing carterguensler@substack.com. You might be rewarded with a special edition about just that.
Check back soon for the next chapter of our story. We pick up where we left off… a hidden hospital wing in the cultural capital of Kazakhstan. With just a week left on our visas, it’s a race against the clock to reach the Kyrgyz border.
Thank you!
Send us your questions!! We’d love to answer them.
Onward,
Carter 🌸
P.S. If you want to support my writing, you can buy me a cup of coffee here. I’ll be sure to tip the barista :)
Click here to read past posts, including my brush with death and the first week of our adventure in Kazakhstan.
Click here for pictures from the trip on Instagram. I’ll be posting my favorites over the next few weeks.