01.10.09

The night in the cheap hotel in Tosontsengel had been a cold one and I had gone down to the bike to get my sleeping bag to help get through the night.  There was no heating, no shower and the toilet was the outside squat.  Not surprisingly, when the morning came, I just wanted to hit the road.  I would find a shower tonight I guess.  It was still below zero when I left the hotel soon after 9am, but the weather was in good form – there was not a cloud in sight.

I switched on my heated jacket and gloves and headed off through Zavhan.  I was hoping to get to Uliastay by lunch and Altai by the end of the day – just under 400km.  I knew I would be stopping often for photographs as the region had that rare combination of good light, good air, and appealing geography.  I seem to have found a way to get vaguely acceptable shots from my non-focussing camera so the amazing opportunities are not completely wasted.  But oh how I wish it was fully functional.

I was unlikely to meet any other motorcycle travellers today, unlike the previous 2 days, as I was effectively crossing from the northern to the southern route across Mongolia.  I had tried to put together a track that took in the best of each route and left out the boring bits.

The track to Uliastay was not particularly exciting, but it was fast.  I was over 100km/h on many sections and made it to Uliastay at midday.  I stopped for fuel and a look around the market before hitting the road about 1pm.  If I kept up the good pace, I should make Altai about 4pm.  I started thinking about doing more miles after Altai and camping in the desert, but the need of a shower tempered that thought.  Altai was the capital of its province so would have hotels with showers … and internet.

The part of Zavhan south of Uliastay was indeed the foto paradise I was looking for.  The pics seemed not too bad, even if the focus is not 100% there.

The landscape was all set at around 1700-1800 metres with regular passes taking the track up thhrough 2500 metres.  At that altitude, temperatures are a good 15-17 degrees colder than sea level.  As had been the norm in Mongolia, it was cold in the morning, warmed up about 1-2pm and became cold again after 5-6pm.

It was 200km from Uliastay to Altai and I needed to make it with my 10 litre fuel tank.  My super additional 12 litre tank has been un-serviceable since near Krasnoyarsk, through no fault of its own.  It needs an airtight main fuel tank to work, as it draws fuel on the basis of the air pressure differential between the tanks.  I have an airleak in the main fuel tank and so my reserve fuel does not get drawn through.  I blew fuel through for the first few tanks, but it takes a half hour of blowing, and very sore cheeks to empty the reserve tank.  I tried sealing it up with silicone, but also to no long lasting result.  So instead I bought a spare 10 litre plastic canister on the outskirts of UB for 50p, and I have put 3 litres in that.  So far I havent had to use it.  So … can I get across Mongolia using just my 10 litre tank?  Stay tuned!

Altai city came into view about 4:15 and I headed for the main post office, also home to the towns main internet service.  I had planned to google hotels, and see what was popular with foreigners.  There were a few that I passed on the way into town.  As a general rule, I dont do guidebooks, as they tend to make people lazy and turn travel into a package tour, but I did regret having no information on Mongolian hotels.  Fortunately I met a Canadian woman and her guide at the internet centre and she recommended the place she was staying at.  Her guide gave me directions and 3 minutes later I had a home for the night.

– – –

02.10.09

I am getting into a routine … wake at 8, pack and try and be on the bike by 9.  Add on refuelling and getting some food / water, and that translates to being on the road by about 9:30.  And so I left Altai city at 9:30, right on schedule.  I wanted to get to Hovd, 430 km away.  It would probably be a long boring day.  The interesting part of this route would come after Hovd – between Hovd and Olgiy – the Altai mountains, populated largely by Kazakhs.  In between the town of Altai and the Altai Mountains near Hovd was the western end of the Gobi desert.

I was still determined to test the accuracy of my Mongolian road map and head off across the desert with just my 10 litres in the tank and a 3 litre reserve.

The road varied from nice graded gravel to miserable corrugations, but I found if you ride the corrugations at 90-100 km/h you seem to skim over the top of them.  Ride at 60-70 km/h and the bike threatens to shake to pieces.

Soon after leaving Altai, the road dropped in altitude over 500 meters.  I had been riding at 1700-2000 metres for most of the last 2 days, with runs up to 2500 metres for the passes.  But as we entered the desert, the road dropped to 1300 metres, and the air became warm.  So warm infact that by 10:15 I had switched off the heated vest and gloves.  That had been something that had not been happening until about 1-2 pm the previous days.

I made it 215km to the halfway point, Darvi and refuelled (it was the first fuel available since leaving Altai).  My fuel consumption was good.  4l/100km.  So I would get 250 km out of a 10 litre tank.  Hovd was 215 km further.  I should make it.  I pressed on.

The bottle of water I purchased had fallen off the bike somewhere and when I stopped for drink because my mouth was dry, there was no fluid to be found.  I would have to go thirsty until Hovd.  Better not break down then I guess.

I began thinking that since I was making such good pace, why not press on to Olgiy.  There was supposed to be the annual Kazakh eagle festival there ending today.  I might catch some leftovers if I am lucky.  Olgiy was another 230 km beyond Hovd, over mountains the whole way.  Darkness should come about 7pm …  so it all depends on when I get to Hovd.

Hovd came into view as I crossed a pass about 3pm.  It looked bigger than all the other regional centres in Mongolia.  I was so early that not only could I press onto Olgiy, but I stopped to have some lunch … and a lot to drink.

I left Hovd at 4:15.  I had less than 3 hours to do 230km, over rough Mongolian dirt roads and mountains.  It was going to be tight.  In times like these I treated the bike like a red-headed step-son – I cane the crap out of it.  The track was sometimes smooth as silk and sometimes very rough gravel or just plain rocky.  The bike took a hell of a beating but as usual, came out grinning.  To make matters worse in terms of time, I kept stopping for photos.  Along with Zavhan, this Altai mountain region was the other area I particularly wanted to see and photograph in Mongolia.

The town of Tolbo appeared 5-6 km away on the left just over half way to Olgiy.  It had fuel.  I decided to chance it and ignore Tolbo.  I didnt want to commit the time to do an extra 12km and the bike should be fine on this stretch of 230 km.  With just 30 km to go to Olgiy the sun dipped below the mountains.  I had 30 mins of twilight left so would make it to Olgiy easily.  But I couldnt ignore the light.  The light was fantastic now that the sun was gone and the scenery worked really well with it.  I made countless photos and each time went to all sorts of trouble to create tripods from rocks.  I kept stopping all the way to Olgiy, the result being I still had about 12 km to go when I realised it was now totally dark.  Well at least there would be no more photos.

With my twin HID50s illuminating the way, I flew across the grasslands at 70 km/h in the dark and as seemed to be the norm with Mongolian towns, you cross a small pass and then the town is lying in the valley floor below you.  Olgiy was well lit up, probably for the eagle hunting festival thing.

I found a hotel in town and was about to settle in for the night when I heard english language voices down the corridor.  It was a room full of Americans.  I asked how was the Eagle festival, and they said it had been postponed a couple of days and started tomorrow.  Cool!  I am not really a festival guy, so I dont plan on hanging around Olgiy, but I might catch some characters around tomorrow morning as I leave town.

– – –

03.10.09

It was only 105km from Olgiy to the Russian border and I left as usual at 9:30.  There was very little stirring in the streets as I rode around looking for action.  I guess people wake later in Olgiy.  The just on the outskirts of town I saw one.  A proud Kazakh on his horse, his right arm weighed down with a massive hunting eagle.  In a second I had killed my noisy bike engine and was pulling the Nikon from my tankbag.  I rattled off a series of shots hoping there would be something useable in there.  Sadly the background was pure “suburban Olgiy” and with the camera only operating on certain settings, the results were less than ideal.  But better than nothing I guess.

I headed out across the Altai mountains towards the Russian border and the Altai republic.  There are a whole bunch of Altais … the whole Altai region is spread across 4 countries, centred roughly where Kazakhstan, Russia, China and Mongolia meet in a near X shaped corner.  I was in the Mongol Altai, heading for the Kazakh Altai, via the Russian Altai.  As I mentioned in an earlier blog, the Altai region is believed to be the original home of the Turkic peoples, so its not surprising that here in western Mongolia many of the people are not Mongol, but Kazakh and Tuvan, two Turkic nationalities.

I stopped on the outskirts of Olgiy to photograph a yurt suburb (yurt is the turkic word for what mongolic people call a ger – since I am now in Olgiy, where turkic is the predominant language group, I feel obliged to call the round white tent thing a ‘yurt’.  As I was photographing the yurts, an old guy approached me with a smile and a ‘salaam aleikum’.

‘Aleikum asalaam’ I replied as it was brought home to me that I am (in theory) not really in Mongolia anymore, but the undefined land of ‘Altai’.  I hit the road knowing that in 100km I would not even be in Mongolia – in fact.

At exactly 11am I rolled up to the Mongol border post.  It was 4 days to the minute that I had left UB.  I had rolled out of UB at 11am on Tuesday and now it was 11am on Saturday.  It was time to do the border paperwork shuffle.  As I waited there at this crossing between Altais, it occurred to me all 4 Altais have different times.  Its 11am in the Mongolian Altai, 10am in the Russian Altai, 9am in the Kazakh Altai and midday in the Chinese Altai.

By 1pm Russian Altai time (2pm Mongolian time) I was through.  It had been a 3 hour border crossing.  About the longest of the trip to date.  I didnt know where I was heading, but was just going to head as far up the M52 as I could get to before dark – about 6:30pm.

I stopped for fuel in Kosh Agach, having picked up the route Tony and I had ridden 4 months earlier.  I had looked over to my right on the road into town and seen Korkorya and the valley that leads up to the Buguzin pass and Tuva way in the distance.  It brought back a lot of memories – tough gritty memories.

180 km from the border and I stopped again in Aktash.  I needed food, money and the bike needed a rinse after 2000 Mongolian kilometres since UB.  Aktash was ideal.  Tony and I had been marooned here for 36 hours waiting out rain and bad weather 4 months ago so we knew the town well.  I knew where the ATM was, the best cafe in town and the only guy in town with a jet wash.  I stocked up on cash, grabbed a couple of piroshki and headed over to ‘the presidents’ place, where Dima Medvedev recognised me immediately and shuffled me into his jet wash bay.

As he washed he was full of questions about where we had been the last 4 months.  He was aghast at the answers.  He looked at the bike and shook his head … “Its a very good motorcycle – a really really good motorcycle” he said in Russian.

I hadnt really thought about it, but since I last saw Dima, the bike had been across the highlands and swamps of Tuva, had gone from Irkutsk north to Udachny, across the Vilyuisky Trakt to Yakutsk, the Road of Bones to Magadan, the 4000 km BAM ‘track’, a second run north to Udachny and now across Mongolia …. 4 months and not a lot of asphalt to show for it.  All of the above are dirt roads and tracks.  4 months of dirt roads, back to back, day in, day out.  And dont nurse it one bit.  I guess Dima was right … the bike had done a remarkable job.

I rode away from Aktash feeling prouder of my bike than I ever have been.  Fuck yeah … its done a hell of a job.  It was a big call taking a bike that had no pedigree in terms of long distance touring.  But I wanted something different.  I wanted something light.  I wanted something powerful. I was back on asphalt now and apart from small stretches, would probably be on asphalt all the way back to London.  The hard yards were done.

This little bike is a solid unit.  I have done nothing to the engine but change the oil every 10,000km (full synthetic only for me), the filter every 20,000km, and changed the plugs once.  I had the valves checked in Krasnoyarsk 5,000km ago for the first time since picking up the bike (when it had just 600km on the clock) and all the clearances were still within tolerances.  Solid !  It doesnt get any lower maintenance than that.

Incredibly I had some sceptics question the engine prior to the trip as it is now made in Taiwan. Probably the same people who sniggered at Japanese engines in the 1980s, just as Honda were putting out the incredibly reliable Africa Twin and TransAlp engines.

My initial concern about front brake pads have disappeared.  The first set had worn away in Eastern Europe after less than 7000km.  So I stocked up and prepared to go thru dozens.  I still have 3 full sets with me.  I havent changed them in 3 months.  That first set must have just been a dodgy batch.

The torque of the engine and the sandy riding have meant I am on my 4th front sprocket and chain, but then again I am up to 42,000km now on the trip.  Incredibly, I am still on the original rear sprocket, and have long since thrown away the spare.  Next trip I will try these lifetime guarantee Sidewinder titanium sprockets. I like the idea of a long trip without having to carry spare sprockets, apart from a change of size for the front.

Perhaps the biggest unsung hero on the bike for me, is the seat.  I go for weeks on end without thinking about it and then suddenly realise the fact I havent thought about means its perfect.  Quite literally perfect.  When I get back to Holland I will get Ray to make a plaster mould of this seat because what he has done to this seat is utter perfection.  Everyone with an X-Challenge NEEDS to have this seat – exactly like mine – because its absolutely perfect for every kind of riding.

I was on a high filled with this burst of pride in my machine, and the miles rolled by quickly.  The scenery was very different from 4 months ago.  Then it was green and lush, now without the colour, it seemed more stark.  Looking from the opposite direction is always a different view too.

By 6pm the border was almost 500km behind me.  I was not far from Gorno Altaisk, where I could probably find a hotel, but there were loads of low key places to stay by the roadside, backing onto the Katun river.  I checked out a couple and found one to call home for the night.  A family on vacation having a barbeque at the same place insisted on feeding me.  Barbequed chicken wings and pork shops done to perfection.  After 10 days in Mongolia it was a heavenly change.

– – –

04.10.09

I woke up prepared for a big push on to the Kazakh border.  The second border crossing in 2 days. But something stuck in my head.  Everyone last night from my fellow guests to the owners of the hotel were telling me I had to see Lake Teletskoye.  Its 150 km east of Gorno Altaisk and apparently a real highlight of the region.  Bearing in mind how scenic the Altai Republic is in general, a place thats a real highlight here must be really quite nice.  I decided to ride up Gorno Altaisk, and see how the weather was holding out.  If it was OK, I would go to Lake Teletskoye, but if rain was possible, then I just  make a B-line for the KZ border.

I got to Gorno Altaisk and the weather looked ok … So Teletskoye it was.  The road left Gorno Altaisk and weaved its asphalted way though dense forests and hills.  I can imagine in summer, when the trees are green and have leaves, that this must be a spectacularly beautiful road.  It took over 2 hours to do the 150km, but it was pleasant all the way.  I got to the village of Artibash on the shores of the lake and after some inital difficulties, found a hotel room for the night.  It was a good chance to catch up on writing and sorting fotos, with the pretty lake right outside the window.

– – –

05.10.09

I had to get an early start as I now had to backtrack 2½ hours just to get back to Gorno Altaisk. From there it was 500km and about 6 hours on back roads through the Altai Krai to get to the border near Zmeinogorsk. Sadly, my hopes for an early start didnt plan out well as I discovered I had a flat battery. So, after digging out my jumper leads and flagging down a friendly local, I was underway. I refuelled at Artibash and hit the road about 9am. So far my little 10 litre tank was doing the job. It had got me across Mongolia. Stopping to refuel every 2 hours or so was a pain. The bike and I both were used to riding all day without refuelling. Each fuel stop just chewed up time and miles out of the day.

The route I was taking back was deliberately different to the route I took coming out. The back roads of the Altai are definately worth exploring and there is more than one interesting route. I crossed the Katun river about 10km south of Gorno Altaisk (after refuelling again), at the village of Aya (over a very cool suspension bridge), and headed west.

Once crossing the river I was in the Altai Krai, which in reality is very Russian. On the way out Tony and I had taken back roads through the Altai Republic, through villages that were completely Altai. The roads through the Krai were almost all asphalted, whereas the backroads we had taken through the Republic were largely dirt. The next stop was the town of Petropavlovskoye, where I had met Tony 4 months ago. I refuelled again and continued, now following the route I had taken earlier.

I was making excellent time and was looking like I would hit the border about 5:15pm when a jerk on the motorcycle and a change in the wind noise indicated we had a problem. I looked around and saw one of my Ortlieb side paniers rolling down the road beside me. It had snapped clean off. My first thoughts on seeing the bag bouncing down the asphalt at 80km/h were ‘oh fuck, whats going to be broken in there?’ Calm returned when I realised it was just spare sparts and camping mattress.

I pulled over, retrieved the bag and began my investigation. It appears that a loose strap from the bag had fallen down and got wrapped around the rear axle at 100km/h, resulting in the bag ripping off. Loose straps are a nightmare. That was the second time onthe trip sommething like that had happened. I must learn to cut them rather than try to secure the full length. This strap had been tied in a knot around the luggage rack but I guess given enough time and enough vibrations and …. whats that old maxim of evolutionary science?? … “Its irrelevant how improbable an event is – given enough time, it becomes inevitable.”

So 40 minutes later I was back on the road. My side bags now strapped firm to my luggage rack, rather than resting over it. The only damage to my contents was the breaking off of the nozzle of the chain lube can, and some ‘discharge’ from same in my pannier bag. I could live with that.

I headed off towards Zmeinogorsk at great haste, trying to make up time. It would be dark by 7pm Russian time and I would now only get to the border about 6pm. Then of course there was the border crossing itself. That too would take some hours. On the other side, I would try and get to Ridder (Leninogorsk) where I had some friends from the way out.

I refuelled for the last time in Russia and while zipping through traffic in Zmeinogorsk focussed solely on that border 40km away I was caught out. Overtaking in towns is a big no-no in Russia … especially around pedestrian crossings, and especially overa solid white line in the middle. The GAI (traffic police) pulled me over and this time I had no complaints. I was guilty.

I played my only card … the dumb foreigner look, feigning poor russian. I was pulled into the back of the jeep and told they can take away my licence for 6 months. As it happens, I know they cant to this with foreign licences. Only the British government can cancel a British Driving Licence. So I just kept apologising and otherwise playing dumb. I think in the end the idea of processing the paperwork for a foreigner put them off and I got off with a very stern talking to. As a parting thought, once the stern faces were done with, they smiled and asked if I could offer them any souvenirs by way of apology. As it happens I could. I had some union jack badges in my tankbag and happily fished out three for the good officers of the Zmeinogorsk GAI.

After that let off, I pulled away gingerly and cruised gently through town. They could have detained me for hours, or at the minimum extracted a thousand rubles (or a lot more) out of me, but I had been lucky. Guilty as sin, and just a stern talking to and a 15 minute delay.

I finally made the border at 6:15. The Russians were super friendly and confirmed this is THE spot to cross the Russia – Kazakh border. Literally 10 minutes and I was through the Russian side. No exaggeration … TEN minutes. It was a 5 minute ride across no-mans-land to the Kazakh post and I arrived there at 6:30 – or rather 5:30 Kazakh time. The sun was now setting. I would be riding the 170km to Ridder in the dark.

The Kazakhs were also pretty laid back, but entering a country requires more paperwork than leaving, and one customs guy decided he needed to inspect 3 of my 4 bags. That was a waste of 20 minutes. Still, I was through the Kazakh post in 45 minutes. The whole border done in an hour. Thats a record for me … a proper border crossing down in an hour.

I headed off for Shemonaikha at 6:15 KZ time with headlights blazing. With the sun down it was now cooling rapidly. I pulled in to refuel and dug out some Kazakh Tenge I had stashed away in reserve when I last left the country from the same border point 4 months ago.

By 8:45 I had made it to Ridder, and pulled out my phone to call Sasha and Zhenya, but the phone battery was dead. Damn. I was cold. I pulled into a nearby hotel, plugged the phone into a wall socket and called. Damn again … they were away for a day or two in Oskemen (Ust-Kamenogorsk). So I just unloaded my gear into the hotel and called it a night. I had ridden over 800km today, the biggest day of the trip so far … and that included a border crossing.

It was a tiring way to finish the Altais … Mongolian Altai to Russian Altai and on to the Kazakh Altai. It got me thinking, one of these days I need to ride the Chinese Altai and finish the 4 Altais.

… maybe a project for next year …