09.06.09

Tony and I woke in Petropavlovskoe pretty late as we had wandered off from our hotel the last night after showering to go in search of food and drink. It having been midnight, our choices were limited. We found a general store and grabbed a cold pizza and a beer each, had the pizza microwaved and went outside to the bench in front of the store and ate our pizza and drank our beer in the darkness, reveling in the sense of being in the middle of nowhere.

The morning sun was warm and I had dressed accordingly – Summer gloves and only the vest under the riding jacket. I led the way south, and as soon as we left Petropavlovskoe, the dirt began.

This was the first time I had ridden with Tony and I didn’t really know what to expect. He is a seasoned Russia rider but I didn’t know how comfortable he was on non-asphalt surfaces or what general speed he liked to ride at, but judging from first impressions he was more than happy riding at similar speeds to me. That would definitely make things easier in the weeks and months ahead.

We rode over endless green rolling hills that could have been England, only without farmhouses and villages.

60km south of Petropavlovskoye was Soloneshnoye. I needed some fuel as I hadn’t filled up since just after entering Russia yesterday. Soloneshnoye was the last chance for fuel before Ust Kan, almost 2 hours down the road. Looking south-east from sunny Soloneshnoye was like looking from the land of the Hobbits into the darkest depths of Mawdor. It was dark, very dark. Lightning flashed over mountains in the direction we were headed. There was no avoiding it, we had to continue that way and face the music. Perhaps it would be better when we got there.

It seemed at first we had been lucky as we missed the bulk of the storm, only catching the end of it. But the storm had made the dirt road a bit of a slippery mud bath, and that reduced our speed significantly. We seemed to be endlessly chasing pockets of sunlight. The sky was very uneven. Ahead of us was sunlight so when the going was miserable we looked at that and thought just 5 more minutes and the conditions will be better. Not sure we ever made it to that promised sunlight or whether it was just an illusion designed to sucker us on into the drizzle and increasing mud.

By the time we reached the village of Chyornoye Anui, I could no longer see Tony’s headlight. The front mudguard on the G650 Dakar he was riding was not large enough to stop mud from his front wheel flying up over his headlight, windscreen and indeed face. Chyornoye Anui was the first village inside the Altai Republic and the people here were clearly Altai. The Altai are the local Turko-Mongolic inhabitants, and are similar to the Kirgiz and the Tuvans.

I stopped half a mile past the end of town to wait for Tony. But no-one was coming. He was just behind me a when we entered town. I waited for a minute or two in case he had stopped for a photo and then I noticed a couple of kids I had seen a the edge of town milling around the middle of the road a few hundred yards back. I turned around and headed back. Tony’s bike was down in some very slippery mud and Tony was picking bits and pieces from his luggage up from the mud. One of his side boxes had opened and documents and stuff was all thru the sticky mud.

I helped Tony right his bike and once all the bits were collected, suggested we head down to the nearby stream to clean up as much as we could, shadowed by the local Altai kids.

By the time all was cleaned and dried, the drizzle had stopped, the sun was back out, and the picture looked better. I led the way back across the grass paddock to the road but in the process we discovered Tony’s metal mule luggage rack had come off its front mountings. Must have happened during the fall.

After considerable faffing about we realised we were not going to be able to fix it, and Tony decided to ride on without the front attachments. By now it was drizzling again and we headed on with the roads slippery again and increasingly muddy. Our  perseverence did pay off and just before reaching Ust Kan, the sun returned, and so too did the asphalt.

The scenery had been fantastic, and had it not been raining most of the time, I would have taken a hundred photos. But cameras and rain don’t mix well. In fact, despite the rain I will put it down on the recommended roads list, because in good weather it would have been a highlight of any trip.

Just before entering Ust Kan I saw a sign saying to go beyond there was to enter a restricted border zone, permits needed! This now corresponded with yesterdays problems at Ridder (Leninogorsk). The crossing from Ridder came out not far from ust Kan, and the border zone there too had been a permit only restricted zone. I had hoped to ride further south to Ust Koksa, but the weather and the restricted zone put an end to that. Tony and I refueled and headed east towards the M52 – the Chuisky Trakt.

What started off as a promising asphalt road from Ust Kan deteriorated as both the asphalt ended and a severe storm came out of nowhere drenching us. But yet again persevere we did, and we made it to the M52 at Tuekta, and turned south. I had been told there was a decent sized town at Ongudai, 25km south of the road junction and decided we should head there for a late lunch and to dry out.

As fate would have it, the rain stopped and we pulled into Ongudai in bright sunshine. This day was all about on-again / off-again weather. We feasted on pretty mean rations (the Cafe’s here don’t seem to have awe-inspiring menus) and as it was now after 7pm, we headed on. There was a decent sized town called Aktash, 150 km down the road, and we should find a hotel there.

This was my first taste of the Chuisky Trakt, Tony having had experienced it downstream while waiting for me at Gorno-Altaisk. Its a lovely road. Good asphalt surface, dramatic scenery thru rugged rocky mountains, and yet very very green. Perhaps that was the recent rain?

We reached Aktash 15 minutes after darkness and found a hotel. This time we were not so lucky re wandering off to the centre of town for some food and beer. The hotel was not in the centre and the town looked very very sleepy. We showered and went to bed.

– – –

10.06.09

Rain stopped play. For the first time in the trip, I canceled biking due to the weather. Tony was happy with that too and we headed off to Aktash’s mechanical guru, who happens to have the same name as the President, Dmitri Medvedev. Looks like him too! ‘The President’ washed and fixed a number of niggly things on the bikes, a rivet here, some soldering there, and manufacturing some new parts for Tony’s luggage system.

We took advantage of the halt in travel to wash a few loads of clothes. Not sure how they will dry in this weather – maybe flying off the back of the bikes tomorrow.

Brunch and dinner was a similar meal (again very limited menu) in the towns one cafe.  For the benefit of those who understand russian menus, it was kotlet c makaronom, i pirozhki.  For the others, I wont bother translating, but will try and score a foto tomorrow to explain.

Its been at least the third day in a row of rain. I saw rain the day I arrived ino Russia in the distant Altai Republic, then Tony and I hit it yesterday, and now again today. This has me worried for the days ahead, specifically the crossing into Tuva. 150 km of dirt tracks plus about 80 km of almost no tracks.

The day was rounded out with a couple of local beers, both at the cafe and then in the hotel room.