The Chapurson valley is one of the remotest places in Pakistan. The 70 kilometre road is a dirt track, leading to a mountain pass into Afghanistan. Riding through it was a real challenge. Although the road looks not too bad on the picture below, at times the track halved in size and the road's motto seemed to be "May those who fall rest forever in the abyss". At one point, trying to stay as far away from the edge as possible, I hit one of the cases on a rock protruding from the wall next to the road. This resulted in a wild wobble, with the bike veering towards the edge.
Interestingly enough, the guide I was looking for crossed my path. In this area, meeting another human being is always cause for a heartfelt hello and a quick chat. Sadly he was on his way to Gilgit, due back in a few days. Since the area is not one to peruse without accompaniment, I decided to turn back, despite his assurances it was ok to wait for a few days at his house.
Another 20 kilometres further into the valley, the track ran along the water again. The landscape is quite Spartan, with tufts of green here and there.
I stopped in one village and tried to shoot a few pictures after some requesting gestures, which resulted in shrill cries from the women in the fields. Most of them worked away cutting hay with traditionally curved knifes, knotting the hay in bushels as seen below. They did this while extravagantly dressed in full traditional colors.
On the picture below, you can see the dry riverbed created by the mountain's spring run off.
I headed back to Karimabad for a few days before tackling a trek.