Just spent some quality time reading all the entries on your website from beginning to end Si, what a trip. But your style of writing makes it 'unputdownable' once you get started.

I'm really inspired for my trip next year now - thanks.

Phil

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Live life now - you only get it once.

Thanks, that's kind. I'm going to sit and write a couple of articles about it and see if they can make Bike or Ride. Need to start paying the credit card off ;-)

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another quick excerpt, the full video, photo footage and descriptions of which is on awayfromhere.org

I got up, stoked that there was a day of good riding coming up, although I knew it might be hard owing to the deluge the night before. Sami, with a still swollen and painful wrist, toppled twice within a mile of where we camped. He wouldn’t be the first today, as in fact pretty much everyone had a drop. We spent some time discussing routes, as many travellers we had met who were going in the opposite direction had said that due to noahic rain, it was better to go the circuitous route (adding 4-500kms) via Olgiy and Hov’d to Ulangoon, but we had heard from one other source that the more direct route was possible. The locals appeared to be telling us that the route from Nogoonuur would be impassable for motorbikes. For whatever reason, we threw caution to the wind and enjoyed some spectacular passes, canyons, gorges, and then open steppe and mountains. Truly, it was breathtaking.

The value of local knowledge was then brought home in spades as we ploughed into a marsh where bikes were now getting stuck with regularity. I have to say, as tiring as it was, and as frustrated as a few were getting, for the most part, it was very fun…in a masochistic kind of way. The mosquitos loved it too and all of us would be nursing head-to-toe weals this evening. Armoured cordura gear was simply an inconvenience for these Mongolmozzies who enjoyed some gourmet foreign food for several hours.

Later we passed through an area that resembled Nevada more than Mongolia, and after that Sami and I somehow got lost from the rest of the group. He is using Ozi-explorer and it took us far too far south. We ended up in some seriously ropey places and at one point my front wheel skipped out from under me and I binned the bike at about 25kms in the mud. Nothing was damaged, except my ego as I hadn’t had any spillls with us altogether. Eventually Sami and I got on the right road and being quicker than the rest of the group, we gave it some throttle to catch them up. We would stop at the occasional Ger to confirm that 5 bikes had passed and to have a chai, but for the most part, our navahoe skills enabled us to see that their tyre treads had passed this way. Eventually we could see them standing on some rocks and were glad to have caught them. They’d been stopped dead by a forceful river. A Uaz tried to cross but was toppled in the current. A drunk Mongolian man then tried to wade across but was carried about 300m downstream before he could pull himself out on the other side. Once he got there, he proceeded to get more plastered with some boyo he met. It already seemed that in Mongolia, nothing is too pressing to distract one from a vodka session with a new friend.

My feet were already soaking from wading in marshes and hitting some small rivers and many puddles today, so I waded in to see if this was do-able. There were a couple of deep channels that I feared would catch us, and if we got my bike through, the chances of getting everyone through would be slim. This would mean camping for the night. We were now starting to run low on fuel and had enough to cook a substantial meal for everyone, but we were clean out of water. This river water was liquified mud and no purification pump or tablets would sort this, so we shared whatever little water we had and made do. Sami, doing his usual, decided to hit the road back to a lake to load up on water for us, but half way there he didn’t hit a horse this time, but his fuel pump died on the Africa Twin. We got him on the walkie talkie and he eventually got it running again, so pulled a U turn and came home…frustrated. It was a glorious and equally frustrating day, finished off with the mozzies driving everyone to their tents early. Hopefully the rain will stay away tonight and the river will drop, for we really do need to cross tomorrow so that we can get to Ulangoon, get money changed, get provisions, and get fuel. A hotel tomorrow night would be a welcome possibility.

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enjoyable report. Funnily enough I need to get over to Ireland/ NI as I have never been there.
Over to your website now

further excerpts from awayfromhere.org

I awoke first eager to listen to the river. Either it was still in full flow, or Tuomas’ guts had taken another turn for the worst. I knew I couldn’t tell until I actually got out of my tent and looked. On doing so, the river appeared to have dropped little as it hadn’t rained during the night relieving me of the need to go and inspect Tuomas’ guts!

I forgot to write that before he went to bed, Kristian got his Isambard Brunel on and started digging meticulous trenches around his tent. Like the night before, his tent was on a slope, and consequently, the torrential rain flowed right into the storage part of the tent, soaking his and Gesa’s gear. His preventative measures were not needed last night, and so the lack of flooding was good news all round, or at least I thought so. The guys from Finland were still of the mind that it was still to heavy a flow, and in the absence of truck-sized sanitary towels, we’d never get across. It was crunch time for our group. Tuomas on his V-strom wasn’t happy with the situation and preferred to go the 150km loop to avoid this river. Only Tuomas and Sami changed money at the border, so they could buy fuel and top up if they could find some, but the rest of us had no Mongolian money yet, no water, and whatever fuel we were carrying. So, on top of the fact that we couldn’t be bothered, this re-route wasn’t an option. It appeared that our group was about to split. Tuomas admitted that his bike wasn’t Mongolia friendly and as he had to be back at work in 3 weeks in Finland, he and the others would head back west again and play in western Mongolia for a few days before exiting at the same border. I took a photo of the discussions, and they were heated. I was for going on as all of Mongolia beckoned and I didn’t come this far to pull a U-ey.
waiting out for the river to drop
drying the boots after the first wade
Pawel in on a preliminary wade
difficult conversations
Pawel returns excited

After about 30 mins, the Finns decided to plough on with us all. It was great knowing that we’d all still travel together for another while yet.

Without further ado, Pawel was in the river trying to finalise a route through. It was a good bit further up than where the couple of Uaz’s had gotten stuck and submerged, and it involved an intricate series of steps through the river. First you’d ride with the current but across. Then you’d make a straight cut across, and then finally with the current. Pawel had the small Yamaha and so went first. He took off the luggage and successfully breached the animal that had caused Kamaz trucks to park up for the night. Next Tuomas went on his Strom. He’s usually a bit fearful, but for some reason, when we stripped him of luggage, his kahunas doubled or maybe even trebled in size, for he really went for it. By the time he got over he couldn’t take his hands off the bars as his fingers has seized solid in fear to the grips. After the first two crossings, Pawel and I split the river up so I’d take the first half and help people across while he’d take the second half. Everything went smoothly until Kristian binned it towards the end. He dropped the bike in the deepest water and came swimming off the saddle. We were very glad nothing happened to him and the bike fired up again without any trouble. Eventually all were across, leaving the difficult task of carrying ALL the luggage from one side to the other. With no breakfast and barely any water worth speaking of, we were all so so tired. The pain and struggle were evident on the faces of all, as we trudged back and forth with boxes and bags. Finally, all the bikes were put back together and we took off, ready to explore the next part of Mongolia.
another one over
my turn
this team photo was very satisfying. all of us were exhausted, soaking and starving...but we'd negotiated our first river.
later in the day
rarely does a day of riding leave me this tired, but feeling great.

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more from awayfromhere.org

The sheer expanse of the country and the countless ranges of mountains were stunning. The colour of the terrrain you ride can change from green grass, to red clay, to white sand, all within about 10 mins. You crest hills to see vistas that you’d never thought possible. It is truly the most spectacular land I’ve ever seen.

cresting a hill

the wind gets so strong on these summits, you can really lean
Today we had a couple of issues. Descending a mountain on a stoney track, Aga’s pannier caught a boulder on the edge of the track and knocker her off her bike. She scratched her arm a bit and deformed the pannier good and proper. It took Pawel a little time to reattach it, but gave him a good bit of work to try and knock it back into shape at camp tonight. Later it was Sami’s turn. Normally I would be leading, but then would hunker up, take some photos and wait for everyone to pass. At one point I crested this pass and the wind was howling. 10 mins later the Poles checked in, but there was no sign of the rest of the them. Finally Kristian and Gesa came in, and they are usually last. Apparently Sami’s AT had packed in and Tuomas was waiting with him. He requested Pavel to come as he was a qualified bike tech. Pawel took off, and we spent some time with various Mongol families who appeared in their 4×4′s. Across the valley we would see a couple of Ger’s, so we told Aga that everyone could meet us there when they got sorted. We spent time with the family drinking chai, vodka, and eating Arold. It was an interesting and slightly surreal experience. The boss of the Ger wanted to swap my bike for his horse. Whilst I’m sure it was a loyal beast, it was no sea biscuit, and Pietro and I had a pact to come home together, so it was a no go.

Aga 30 mins before her intro to a Mongolian boulder

one of the many mountaintop prayer shrines, with a lone horseman

Up close and personal with K & G

Pawel in a puddle

Sami in the same puddle

i have no idea what i'm up to here

Kristian doing his Isambard Brunel engineering feat
Eventually Pawel and the guys arrived. Sami’s fuel pump had given up the ghost again, and so it they just bypassed it so that he could still ride, albeit with the fuel consumption of a Hummer.

Entering a Ger

Mongolian hospitality

Gerry can vodka
it's tiredness, not vodka

laughing with new friends
hospitality

'arold', it's horrible stuff

Yak's milk. The substance from which everything else is made.

his horse for my bike? i think not.

here comes Pawel and Sami

Pawel coming towards us at the Ger

capturing the moment

Normally we try to camp by a river, and tonight is no different. Fortunately we don’t have to cross this one tonight, so we can worry about who’ll do the Moses and try to part the waters tomorrow. If a big beard constitutes doing a Moses, we wouldn’t need to be waiting for any of the Fins, as I’ve seen 4 year old boys and nuns grow better facial hair. In any case, that’s it for tonight for I’m dead beat. Goodnight all.

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from Away From Here

Before I get into the 28th, there were a few photos from yesterday which I forgot to post…

dust plumes from the bikes.

Sami approaching

Me approaching

still approaching

enjoying every moment

actually, we've come the wrong way

In the words of a famous Kazakh, 'I like!'

Waiting for Sami before Pawel departed to help him

OK, to business…

Everyone got up and had a leisurely breakfast. The sun was shining, so we could try and dry our boots out some. Everyone made something different for breakfast and we shared our food and chatted about national identity and the holocaust with Kristian and Gesa. Conversations began about whether or not we should split up began, as the Finns said they needed to rush on and couldn’t really wait around much. I agreed to continue with Pauli, Sami and Tuomas, as I too wanted to ride more quickly and also get to Ulan-bataar. I didn’t really want to get to UB for UB’s sake as from what I understood, it has all the attraction of a bout of Jardia, but I wanted to get there early so that I could leave most of my luggage at the Oasis guest house and take a 2 day blast down to the Gobi desert, before Pavel, Aga, and my favourite Germans got there. So we left. I took us back to the route that had a solitary signpost to Narambulag, but it turned out to have 2 river crossings, one which we did, the other being too big. Tuomas complained and it was clear we were starting to make plans to top each other during the night. It was just a question of who set their alarm earliest. I told him to go the Alps next year, as there’d be less of a risk of wetting his feet. So, frustration was setting in for us all and I began to want to ride on my own again. We turned around, and about 45 mins later we caught up with the 2 couples who were the tortoise and who somehow seemed to stay ahead of the hare. I was out ahead of the guys and so had a break with the Poles and Germans until the Finnish boys arrived. We made it to Narambulag and as was normal, Pietro got me there first, so I went into one of the little stores on the main street and sat and had a in the heat before everyone else arrived. Eventually they did and we all agreed to press on and meet at the Hot Springs, north of a Lake on the middle route.

Breakfast

Drying boots before another river

more time being wasted beating Aga's metal pannier. did i say that i don't have any time for aluminium boxes yet?

Sami gearing up, or gearing down...I can't remember. still sporting the wrist support though.

but he was wearing two at one point! Sami, have you always had a problem with limp wrists? ;-)

shaking previous countries' currency and dust out of my tent

Kristian, my photography teacher, showing me a new trick
Kristian always admired my bike mounts. This was too difficult for him due to some 'organisation procedure' he goes through as he get on?

one of today's river crossings

easiest cross to date

still come up like a drowned rat

Waiting at Naraambulaag

this chap insists that the only way to ride a bike, is to do with with a large bottle of vodka in his hand. he and the rest of the Mongolian men

Kris waiting in line for fuel. he actually dropped his bike about a minute after this photo, but he still looked cool as he did it!!

When we got there, or at least we think we did. The springs seemed to be quite elusive and since we were all starting to smell like turnips with leprosy, we had in our minds, radox adverts shot in Iceland. What we got was a concrete building with some students who allegedly were English majors but who barely had ‘yes’ or ‘no’ down. Either the Mongols or the Bradt guide to Mongolia (which is incidentally much better than the Lonely Planet guide to Mongolia if you’re planning a trip) had oversold on the springs and underdelivered.

Again there was some angst – partly fuelled by the heat and the springless springs – as no definitive decision was made as to how much further we’d get and whether we’d camp by the saltwater lake as some wanted a swim since we hadn’t had a chance to wash somewhere clean since the Russian Altai. It was agreed that we’d ride another 15kms or so, and then try to camp by the lake. The boys took off first and I caught up with them. They wanted to keep going, and aware that we’d told the rest that we’d ride for 15 clicks, I said ‘you ride on and I’ll let them know we’re going on further’. I waited and asked Aga to take a photo of me sitting on a rock. She and Pawel then had a barney because the wind blew her bike off the side stand and broke the mirror, irritating Pawel, so I took off to let them sort it.


view of some camels by the salt lake

the photo before the war between P&A before i left to go on my own before the hurricane.

I knew I was about 20 mins behind Sami, Pauli and Tuomas, so I gunned it to catch them. 45 mins later I stopped a 4×4 and he said that 3 bikes had just gone past. I saw no dust plumes and was surprised at how much ground they’d covered. So, I blasted it once more and half an hour later a jeep stopped to chat and one of the girls in the back spoke pretty good english. She said that no motorbikes had past, so I figured the guys had pulled off somewhere to camp. I was on my own now as I knew that Aga, Pavel, Kristian and Gesa wouldn’t ride this far today, and now the Finns were behind. Enjoying the freedom of no responsibility or decision making processes, I got up on the pegs and moved quickly across the steppe. It was wide open and the most open land I’d seen since I started on this trip. There were no yurts, livestock, and the only sign of life in this remote part, was the occasional 4×4 kicking up a plume. By now, dusk had kicked in and I was getting tired and not seeing the road so well. I narrowly avoided dropping the bike the in a few big holes and the final straw was when a squall hit me from the side and nearly blew me and the bike over. ‘Time to stop’, I thought. I spent about 30 mins looking for somewhere out of the wind, as it was fearsome. Eventually I found a place which I figured to be the most sheltered spot. I tried pitching the tent, and almost, inadvertently, began kite surfing across a Mongolian steppe. This wasnt’ going to work as the whole side of the tent went concave and on one occasion went flat when the frequent squalls took leave of the hurricane. I walked a bit further and finally found somehwere which offered at least a little protection no matter what direction this changebale wind blew from.

contrary to what this photo suggests, this is quite a sturdy Mountain Equipment tent.

Once camp was set, I cooked up some Korean noodles, opened a tin of tuna, and sat in the solidude of my tent. As I sit here writing, it is strange to be on my own. We have lived in each others pockets for several weeks now and the guys are camped somewhere within 100 kms behind me.

My big disappointment now is that I forgot to zip up my tank bag for a large section of the ride today. In it I keep my netbook, camera and lenses, Leatherman, spare key, high def flip camera, and peztl headtorch, ie, all the really important stuff. When I realised that I’d left it open through a very bumpy 40 kms or so, I checked that that camera etc was all still there. Everything seemed to be in its place, so I was relieved. But tonight when I was getting ready for the evening in my tent, I discovered that I’ve lost the torch. How disappointing! It has been one of the most used items to date and now I’ve had to resort to this crappy wind up thing that cost about 2 quid in some backwater pound shop in Coleraine. The redness of my nose is, at present, giving off more light.

Well, the battery in this netbook is about to die, I need a pee, and should brush my teeth and check out on this windy night in Mongolia. I’ve no idea what tomorrow holds, but there are not other directions for me to go for 140 kms or so, so directly east to Sangino it will be. There’s some kind of vole hole at the front door of my tent, I hope it doesnt’ hassle me during the night!

Thanks for reading and goodnight. Si

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