![\"\"](\"\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/10\/P8055243.jpg\" "\\"Tashkent")
<\/a><\/p>\nWe would be heading up into the mountains outside Tashkent with him and a few of his friends. The friends were all members of a certain Uzbek heavy metal group, knows as Tortoise Minja. We were the first to arrive at the meeting spot, five minutes late, and soon the rest of the team rolled in. Much like at band rehearsal, there was one guy who just didn\u2019t show up. So we called his house and spoke with his mother, who assured us he was already on his way, meanwhile screaming at him to get up in the background.<\/p>\n
So we bided our time, munching some Korean steamed buns that were being sold by some members of the large\u00a0 Korean community in Tashkent. Finally everyone arrive, which gave me an opportunity to introduce the cast of characters.<\/p>\n Shoney <\/strong>: Your fearless Uzbek Bureau Chief and general Uzbek rainmaker\/Boston Bro mashup.<\/p>\n Jesus\/Noise :<\/strong> Call him what you like, this rail thin fellow played the base in Tortoise Minja, spoke in the most hilarious rudimentary English, had the beginnings of a thick beard. He was obsessed with Texas, and told us repeatedly of his love for the place, and wish to travel there, but dressed more like a fellow I once knew from Arkansas.<\/p>\n Timur :<\/strong> Lead singer, and generally pretty boy of the group, his flowing locks and operatic voice made me very curious to hear how he fit into the heavy metal sound.<\/p>\n Vladimir:<\/strong> The drummer, a cool and calculating character, interested in cooking and maximizing the speed with which he could deliver (double) bass drum hits.<\/p>\n Igor:<\/strong> Lead guitarist \u2013 rumored to be a savage kickboxer, a wirey and unwashed but otherwise peaceful character.<\/p>\n Scott:<\/strong> Your basic adventure capitalist, torn bicycle grease-stained Carhearts, William Cheng and Son\u2019s tailored buttondown, large mustache, camera, chest hair, and a pair of Dawn Patrols to keep it klassnaya.<\/p>\n Combine those characters with your humble, ukulele-bearing, correspondent, and you have just enough people to fill a Marshriutka, Mienbaoche, or however you\u2019d like to refer to those small vans that are the glue that holds transportation together all over this planet. The Marshriutka we climbed into made short work of the drive up into the mountains, playing bizarre Russian club music the whole way. We climbed out and paid the guy, setting a time at which he would come back to pick us up, and headed out onto the trail, laden down with Soviet military style canned meats, potatoes, onions, water, and a few bottles of \u201cPulsar\u201d brand beer.<\/p>\n Soon the trail disappeared and we were just walking up into the Uzbek Himalayan mountains. It had been cloudy that morning, but just about the time the trail petered out, the sun burst forth, and all the clouds burned out of the sky. Sunscreen would have been a good thing to have remembered.<\/p>\n Jesus in particular, son of an auto mechanic, and somewhat the black swan in this group of otherwise very academic Uzbek rockers, swore like a sailor. I found myself learning all kinds of new and terribly offensive things to say in Russian, just hiking uphill with the guy.<\/p>\n The sun was viciously bright, and the scenery magnificent as we climbed up into the hills. We stopped for a moment to rest and scream down at the stragglers. Despite the fact that most of these guys chain smoked cheap Uzbek cigarettes, they could hike very quickly, and I found myself positively drenched in sweat just trying to keep up.<\/p>\n On top of that, they were singing! I wanted to join in, but I was so out of breath that I could barely get out the words to Black Sabath\u2019s \u201cWar Pigs.\u201d<\/p>\n To make matters worse, the soil was sandy and the rocks that made up the hillside were barely secured in place by the roots of the scrubby foliage and grasses that clung there. This made it no easy task climbing up the mountain, and I didn\u2019t even want to think how it would be trying to come down, heaven forbid in the dark.<\/p>\n We spent a while trying to find the perfect location to set up shop. It seemed that as soon as we had found one that was decent, Timur would scream down from above us at the top of his lungs, proclaiming he\u2019d found the true best spot, just another 100 meters ahead. This pattern of setting up and moving, setting up and moving, went on for some time, until we finally just put our feet down and stopped moving.<\/p>\n Scott immediately took his shirt off and began looking fabulous.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n