The border crossing between Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan sits in a remote valley whose name means Black Crane, cranes are common in the village nearby, which is the kind of detail that makes a bureaucratic stop feel briefly less bureaucratic. The crossing itself is straightforward when everything is working; when the power fails, which apparently happens, it slows considerably. Soldiers check passports methodically, there's an X-ray on the Kazakh side, and someone asked if I spoke Russian. Being told it was fine that I didn't was a relief.
Three kilometres before the border a side road branches off towards base camp for summit attempts on the peaks above, one sitting at 7,010 metres, or possibly 6,999 depending on who measured it, known as the Ruler of the Sky, its pinkish marble and burning coal colouring catching the last of the light at sunset. Peak Victory at 7,400 metres sits on the Chinese border further along the same range. Neither is a casual detour.
By this point Issyk-Kul has been a near-constant companion for most of the Kyrgyzstan loop. Cast a glance back over your left shoulder before the crossing and you'll catch its last reflection, an azure calm that follows you further than you expect.