Jeremiah Watt Cycling around God's Creation

long distance bicycle touring

Archive for ‘July, 2014’

Post 15 Visas, Trains and Mosquitos

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Visas, trains and mosquitos.Pretty much the order of our Russian concerns.Visas, are now offered as 3 year multiple entry type for US citizens, which is the way to go if you can. If you happen to be Canadian as I am, then this option is not open to you yet. Trains, what can I say that has not already been said, heck, let me give it a try.

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Forget traveling  PLATZ CART which is the cheapest method of travel. I see it mentioned in blogs posts quite often, but have simply been unable to make it work…..at all. I say this for the simple reason, I have no idea where you would put your bike and bags etc, if you were to board on a Platz Cart ticket???. It just looks like a waste of time to me. There are no instructions ANYWHERE in English nor any other language.When you travel in Russia, its just Russian. Which in unlike traveling in most of China for instance. And just forget about the Russian lady behind the ticket grill being willing and helpfull……because they are not. Best advice, travel KUPE, which usually means 4 bunks per room. Buy all 4, put the bikes on the top bunk, upside down. And you sleep on the bottom bunks. Mosquitos, they are big as birds, can suck an infant inside out in less that 30 seconds. In that time they will leave with enough of your blood to run an average ER room for 2 shifts. Wear long pants, socks over the pants…….yes, I KNOW it looks dorky. Long sleeve shirt, wrap your neck, and where bug spray like a teenager wears cologne. The months of May June and July are the worst for mosquitos. The rest of the months all you have to worry about is frost bite and horse flies.

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                                                Russian countryside between Novosibirsk and Omsk, generally flat and wooded with meadows. Lots of standing water

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                                           Small villages are made up of mostly log homes with gaily painted windows, huge gardens, small fruit trees.

We have come to enjoy the people that we have met as much as the country side we have seen. Are there peculiarities and strange idiosyncrasies that are hard for the western traveller to adjust too? Boy howdy, are there ever. We have found that like most of Europe, these people enjoy watching you struggle to pronounce the few words that you know in thier native tongue. Belive me, i do not regret bringing my 22 year old free-download language app with me. I feed him 6 times a day, and he does his best to imitate Siri……but with a manly voice. Meet, Pine. Dad is terrible with languages, lives by the motto, that if they dont understand then say it louder. Also, a word of note……Russians understand internationally recognized sign language….ie: a man standing with his legs crossed is most likley looking for the bathroom. Where as, do the same thing in China……and they most likely offer you a sewing machine, or maybe a shoe shine since your feet are so close together. That sort of thing, all pretty usual stuff, but it sign language works here.

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                                                                                                              Front gate entrance to the Kazan Kremlin

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                                                                                                                                 The Citidel in center of Kazan
The last we posted we were back in Novosibirsk, and I mentioned Mosquito Ridge or Road. We have had several friends who have traversed this section, and each has told us to take a train thru it since itvirtually the same every mile.. No doubt some of you willbe surprised or even offeneded that we have taken this option. The whole scoop is, we have a limited time option as it pertains to the visa, I have a limited time with my son, and he has plans as do I on what we should and would like to see while together. All those items and personal agendas have to be married into one journey, and thats ours. We trained it for just under 1800km, watched it out the train window when we were awake. For myself, I was still busy recuperating from ieth heat stroke or something that we ate??? Not sure but it lasted for almost 5 days.

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Let me give you the skinny on the country side, think of it as being basically flat, with any lowlands filled  with standing water and the proverbial Russian Bloodsucker aka,mosquito. The grass is deep, knee high in most places, the soil rich, wet and black as that of the Red River valley in Manitoba. The forests on the east side near Novosibirsk are for the most part birch and poplars with a few pine and spruce thrown in. As we went west and towards the Urals(dont think here of mountains per say, think of a speed bump on the praries). The tree cover turned to mostly pine, with spruce and balsam filling the gaps as tree covered rolled off the edges of the now sandy hillocks. The rolling Ural regions give way quickly to what is reffered to as the plains of Samarra. This is a huge grain growing region within Russia, the farms are both beautiful and rustic at the same time. Land ownership is allowed in Russia today, so the modren farmer struggles with the land purchase as well as upgrading or updating his mechanical infrastructure. It is happening albeit slowly, but they are inded headed for modern best method farm practise. Keep in mind that much of the national farm support infrastructure is now laying derelict and unuseable. From grain terminals to rail spur lines, most is no longer in place for the expediant movement of ag products.

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Pine and I, watched in awe, as five of the biggest combines that Gleaner makes, took thier mechanical toll on a huge field of barley. We seen plenty of 4 wheel articulated rigs doing thier own work out in the beautiful black dirt. Our best estimate, 20 years from now you would noy know that you were in the same place. It does seem to me, that is far more land that goes unfarmed than there is which is farmed.We dismount the train in Kazan, considered the 3rd capital of Russia, following of course Mockba(Moscow) and St.Petersburg. Kazan is a heavily Muslim city, and called the Istanbul of Russia since it lay upon the broad banks of the Volga river. The Kazan Kremlin (think FORT when you see this word), is a breathtaking landmark that occupies the north bank.standing erect with golden domes and tall spires, and at the center of the Kremlin grounds is a gorgeous Mosque. Right behind that stands the Orthodox Church of Peter and Paul also sporting a huge golden dome at its roof center. A stark white spire shoots skyward, and the Crucifix of Lorraine in black steel is afixed to the top of it all. After walking the Kremlin grounds, we head towards city center and maybe something to eat.

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                                                                                       This is the view as we ride along the bank of the Volga river

We are both struck with the oppulence of the city, but also it has a very distinct western European feel or character to it. Gone are the bleak grey edifices of Communist Russia that we have all come to know. These streets are cobble and or pavers. The buildings that are under renovation, are totally stripped and gutted. Fit with new rooves, new wiring, plumbing, new cement for steps and side walks, the facade on the exterior exudes culture, romance and art. Every where we walked was pretty much the same with regards to looks and quality of reconstruction. Bottom line, would I take my wife there…….without any hesitation.

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We talked over what we both seen and felt in Kazan Russia, and we both thought the tale would be told when we rode our bikes out of Kazan the following day. The rest of the tale held a true course, we sure hit some poorer areas, but for the most part, Kazan is  city that is racing forwards into a new future. Aided by 3 mountain bikers we finally navigated out of the city, over the mighty Volga and onto  safer secondary road. Our direction now is mostly south towards Ulyanovsk. And we will be following the banks of the Volga doing so. Small quaint farm villages dot the rolling lanscape. The countryside is equal mixture of farm ground and treed areas. The grains are mostly oats,barley and wheat. We seen scatterings of corn and milo, grass hay, but no alfalfa at all. Every yard is a garden…..every inch. No need for a lawn mower here. We seen old men on bicycles slowly creaking along, conveyed by a rusty chain, a scythe slung over thier shoulder. We seen older couples hand stacking loose grass hay around a small vertical center pole, this pole adds rigidity to the stack as it grows. We watched old women stooped in the garden. Pulling weeds like a gladiator, and carrots like a loving mother. Kids hung about the hand water pumps, throwing water as kids are inclined to do……..oblivious to the mud and mess they made. A universal axiom.

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Broken chairs, and old wooden boxes in the shade of a fruit tree somewhere in the yard becomes a community center. Old men in rough heavy clothing, soiled work boots, and women in dresses and aprons, older women always wear the head scarf or babooshka. They gather in the shade, where stories are told, memories revisited, gardens are compared and the heat of the day is quenched with a cool as springwater glass of Kvas (a drink made with sugar, water and old rye bread,fermented till it is fizzy but not alchoholic) The 3 day ride south was like riding thru the pages of a story book. 117 miles our longest day so far. Many rolling hills, and great camp sites.We arrive in Ulyanovsk, and bumped right into an oops. Crap, the fellow we planned on seeing, actually lives 80 miles due west. So, we park our bikes in a safe place, and take a bus. Allow me to back up alittle so i can paint a better word picture for you.

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Bear with me here. 8 years ago, I went to Estonia to teach and spent 4 weeks doing so. Later, my family and nephew came to meet with me, and for 4 weeks we traveled Russia,Latvia,Finland,Estonia,Poland and Germany. Loved them all……..except for Russia (miserable little buggers was my impression). We all get home and get back to life and bills etc. That January, as is my usual year, it starts with me working the Market in Denver. I do my duty in Denver, have a good time and show. As is also usual for me, I got home with a head full of ideas, a tangled mess inside my head. So, the first afternoon after getting home, I take off on a normal bike ride for me, maybe 20 miles up the mountains and back. Blow a little fresh air thru the lungs and get the synapses firing as they should.on this particular day, with blue sky and early grren grass, I decided to dismount and lay in the grass facing the sun……just think and pray about the directions ahead. My solitude and mental contemplations were fractured by the sounds of fabric and plastic flapping in the wind. I look up too see a guy on a mountain bike, wearing a slippery track suit, with plastic shopping bags bungeed to a single back rack. Plastic bags with stuff inside hung from both ends of his handle bars. Heavy wool socks captured the bottoms of both pant legs, mitts covered his hands. Okay I thought, its iether a bum changing address or an escapee from some institution……not you normal cyclist. Heck, I can catch him no problem……..by Johnsons corner,I thought, as I vaulted onto my carbon fiber Calfee steed.My bike is super quiet as compared to his, which sounds like a tall ship just catching a freshening breeze. So, I ride right up on him, right along side and slap him on the back as I do so. I surprise him so much, he even farted in Russian. I knew as soon as he spoke, that he was Russian. We talk, better we gesticulate back and forth without many words that were understood. Finally the direction from God prevails, and I invite him (Vladimir), to spend the night with us. I once again, silently, ask God if he remembers our trip thru Russia…….because I sure did.

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So Vladimir is welcomed into our home by a wide eyed family…….they all gave me that “what were you thinking” silent look. As it turned out, Vlad is a school teacher in Russia. He has traveled the world quite literally, and is an engaging and interesting fellow. We all thouroughly enjoyed our time with him, and were so glad that God Picked this Russian in order to soften my heart towards the many. So, this is the man and his family that we have come to visit.Vladimir, is the quintessential athletic “beast”. He takes his fitness as serious as any manI have met. He is fit and cut like a olympic gymnast, and just the mildest mannered, affable fellow you will meet. Excuse the huge slice of crow on my plate as I write this, as every Russian that we have met to date has been friendly and very helpful, not just Vladimir. We had Vladimirs son, Roman, come to live with us for 3 months, so we knew him well. This trip we got to meet the wife whom we had heard about but never met, Gala is her name. Pine and I were with Vlad for 2 days and were shown the sites of a small town/village in Russia. We were fed like Kings, treated as Royalty and very much regretted our short time that we to visit.

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Came away with a few recipes for things I want to try and make when Iget back home. For a specialsurprise,Vladimir spent one whole day preparing. Russian Bath for us…….we had no idea what this was,but volunteered anyways.My Christian friends, you need to open yourminds alittle here as this gets to be Xrated pretty quickly withouteven tryingtomake it so. If I wanted to, I could veryeasily make this read likea chapter right out of Hugh Hiefers life…….but I wont. I think it,ssafe to say, that 3/4 of rural homes have a bath house out behind the main house. The main houses will almost all have electrical services,most however lack indoor water and sewer. Behind the main house will be several outbuildings, one willbe an outhouse in the far corner of the yard. Another may be a chicken coop. While yet another, will be about the size of a chicken coop….but it will have a metal chimney poking out the top. That will be the bath house.

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So, 3 fellows, who do not know each other very well, all head out to this bath house….this already sounds like an intro to a Monty Pyton skit.? We all strip…….bare assed naked………aaaaah, ……maybe a little uncomfortable. Rummage around to find a wool beanie that fits down over your ears…….for???? I was already thinking maybe a “tube sock”……may be more apre,po?? Our beanies in place, we step thru another door and immediatley feel that blast furnace heat……now I am really wanting tomove that beanie, my zipper pull was hot. “Just sit for a few moments”, says our bathhouse guide. Maybe 5minutes go by, we are all sitting on the lowbenches at this stage, discussing what all naked men discuss……ground grip tires, spoke wieght and of course who can resist taking about inner tubes at a time like this. “Okay, its time says our guide, move up one layer”…..I feel it, and holy crap Agnes…….it is scalding. Here,says our guide and he hands me a small towel to lay on the surface……..while he is soaking………..what the heck, small branches with leaves attached………in a basin of cold water???? Okay,”JW, you can go first, says our guide……also naked……..just lay on your belly on the top bench. The top bench is about 24-30 inches from the roof. It is hot as blazes……..and Vlad-the guide adds more waTer to the steamer and the heat pops again…….so hot now I have a hard time catching my breath. Jesus………those are my lips moving……..and I amPraying…….sure hope that you notice. Right says the bath house guide, we first wipe away the sweat water, then the dried birch branches are used to open your pores………..so says JW……LIKE HOW you gunna open my pores exactly. Ah, you will see or feel in a moment says Vlad. He brings out the branches and swishes the excess water off against the stove, when it feels about right, he begins to swish/spank that handfull of branchs from the toes to your neck. Poochie Maggie folks, gotta tell ya, I about crawled out of my skin, that little bit off aDDED WATER ON THE SKIN AND IT BURNED LIKE BLAZES. Youch, was all I could think of, while i tried to suck in air and was failing at that as well. OKAY, says the guide………lets roll over and do the other side……….folks, this is where I was questioning my sanity at agreeing to all this. I reluctantly roll over, my guide offers me a pot holder to cover up my STUFF,  I am thinking maybe a hockey sock and a goalie mask??? Add to the heat, get those wet birch branches and repeat the whole process again on the only side of me not yet scalded.

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With that done, I am instructed to step out into the back yard and rinse in the cold water shower that is set up. So, out I go, just me and about 5 other houses all looking towards me is how it felt……the old lady right next door……with the roto-tiller…..nope, dont think she even heard me. While I showered, Pine got the same treatment as I, then he to showered. We talked as we cooled down, then repeated the process again, with a little more vigorous birch branch whackings the second time, followed by another shower. That was follwed by more talk, then a good heat up and soap down with cold water inside the bath house, then rinse off in the cold shower out back one last time. Whole process, maybe 2.5 – 3 hours and yes, very relaxing. Fell asleep in my mashed potatoes at supper that night.

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Gala, that is Vladimirs wifes name, fixed us fish soup with dill, cutlets and rice, rye bread, some home town cheese, new honey with wild strawberries poured over home made Tovrog. Great meal and good company. The following day, we were photographed at the local News Paper, toured the local Museum, and met the most important people in town. Took our bus back to Ulyanovsk and then onto Moscow. Ulyanovsk is a 16 day ride to the Ukraine border, and our Visa is not that generous, plus we are a little concerned with the border crossing situation. But more on borders and Ukraine later.

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Blog Post 14-Tough trip thru Paradise

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I have officially fell in love with the Russian countryside.
We are sitting here in our camp this evening and got to watch a Russian Vaquero bring in about 30-35 head of horses, they came trotting in right above our camp site by the creek. Missed us by maybe 10 feet at the most. All belled, and sounding just marvelous, but 2 of the horses where wearing front foot hobbles, and nobody even bothered to remove them, just brought them in and trained those two a good lesson on how to travel with hobbles.

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We are nearing the bottom of a canyon right where we are camped, but just 5mile back up the canyon, we both came to a halt as we decended thi gravel road. The bells Pine said…..and not sure what he had said, I asked him if he was hearing bells…….why yes he said, but from where. We mounted up and pedalled on somemore, and around the next bend, there were about 150 head of Simmental cross cows all belled with different sized bells……….my God what a magical sound all those cows and bells made.We made a choice back at the main road to take a turn and try a few secondary roads.

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We headed strait out into 1940, I mean folks. The road turns to mostly non maintained gravel, which changes our riding pace considerably. The biggest change is in regards to what a small village looks like along a main road, as compared to just going a few dozen miles to iether side of it. Almost all houses are log, beautiful rustic aged wood color with gaily painted trim boards around all windows and doors. All windows are vertical 4 pane style, and EVERY window is adorned by those iconic Russian pattern lace curtains in stark white. Looks great. These folks garden, OMG, but do they ever garden. The gardens are the yard…….all of it. Out buildings are wood, no paint, and usually the doors are falling off if there ever were any. The typical family car is a Lada sedan, and if you owned one I gaurantee you would sooner have a toothache than that car. A village, can be a scattering of 3-4 houses, most usually along a creek. Or a village can comprise 30-40 houses along a creek. Fruit trees in every yard, loose pigs, cattle and goats roam the yards at will.

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There is clearly poverty out here when you leave the main roads, not so very much different than back home I guess.Its hard to desribe how quaint and beautiful these back roads and villages are. One of those……you have to be here to really appreciate it. Huge valleys with an abundance of green grass and wild running rivers is pretty hard to beat at the best of times. But dot that lanscape beat with rustic log houses, feeply tilled gardens and a sow and her piglets laying in the shade of a front porch or wall of the house, makes for an interesting ride. Kids sitting in innertubes, playing in the creek, tail swishing cows are thier audience. Herds of horses, mares and colts are everywhere, even rode by groups xtanding on the gravel roads thier colts are sound asleep stretched out on the road. The same scene was repeated often with small bands of sheep all sleeping on the road. Old men walking thru towns to visit friends in other log homes. Old women, repleat with a paisley (Pinny or Apron) and the ever present babooshka over thier heads, are out working the garden or picking what the gardenhas brought forth. Late after noons finds good friends sitting under the shade of a tree, or sitting on a creek bank fishing or just visting. Its a quiet almost idyllic life, if it werent for poverty and the lack of opportunity that comes with it.

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There is one real difference for Pine and I as it regards travel and suggestions. We would both return to Russia, no doubt about it the Alta Krai region is outstanding…….its beautiful , cleaner by far, and we find that the people are very helpful and friendly. For both of us, if we won the Powerball jackpot for millions……….but had to pick up the prize money in Mongolia………ah…,thanks but we will pass and try winning another time. Bout sums it up, we have an agreement so that we quit badmouthing Mongolia. Whoever mentions Mongolia has to buy the other guy an ice-cream bar………dang, I lost 13 times one day.

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Mat’ers ugly brother
We made a stop in a small town and hey wouldn,t you know it, but 2 other cyclists came along. 2 guys, friends, from Spain. They have been on the road now over 2 years, logged 48,000 kilometers to date, and have 2 continents left on thier journey to round the world on every continent. Real nice guys……but dumb as a post I suspect. Both worked as professionals, saving towards this dream, and they made it and have enjoyed every mile so far. Not long after we met a cycling couple from Switzerland. Also proffessionals who wanted to take a break from the race of rats. They had been on the road since March 1st, and plan on being gone approx. 10 months and want to end in New Zealand. We find that we are just 2 more souls, with an intention of cycling around the beautiful world that God created for us. We know both our purpose and our place on this earth, because we have a singular relationship with its Creator.The further north we head, the wilder the driving gets, and the busier the roads. Some roads just flat dont feel good nor safe. We often ride the gravel shoulders just for pure safety of it all. Driving here leaves alot to be desired, which we had been warned about, and our 4 most recent cyclist friends made a point of reiterating as well. The countryside flattens out a lot, rolling like central Kansas, and grain as far as the eyes can see.

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Its also a lot hotternow, we have had 2 days over 113, and high humidity. So for me the cycling is tougher. Got a little heat stroked or food poisoning ???????not sure which, had to sit out a day to try and recover. Got one hand covering each orifice……would love to have a third to scratch mosquito bites. We are sitting in Novisibirsk as of 4.15 pm today. Taking suggestions from fellow travellers about our route after this. We are sitting on what has been called Mosquito Ridge or Road, depends on where you are from.
Dasvedania Vladimir, we are headed your way.
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Blog 13, from Russia with love

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We are starting in with the odometer reading a total of 2087 miles ridden, and total road miles of approx. 2985 miles thus far. I had miscalculated and misquoted my friend Brian Kunic a few posts ago, my apologies. This is the calculation taken at Russian border entry station.Rolled out at 6am, sbowered and finished paaking. Had the morning oatmeal almost done by the time Pine showered so it worked out well. We hadhired a truck to run us bach up to Tashanta, rreally niceguy who actually drovewell to boot. Just before we got left we had a visit with about 6new arrivals at the yurt hostel.They were all on sub 800cc adventure bikes, all having a great time except for one who was having some issues with frame cracks and bad tires. He was asking us how/where to hire a truck, he wanted one to take him to Ulanbator. Gave him the best advice we could abnd got on the road.It has been raining in Olgii for 14 days, our yurt wss flooded twice, mattresses were wet, and it smelled………not so bad, zt least the lamp shade still had the plastic on it. I mention the rain because the tops of the hills going north had been dusted with snow. 3 creeks that 12 days previous were runing a lot of water, were all completely dry. This is really funny country to figure out for me,tons of rain, even added snow and creeks go dry?.

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Cross the Mongoliaan border, maybe 45 minutes, then 5 miles up hill to the Russian side. Ttwo guards, same little cabin on the prairies sort of house, they took a very brief look handed them back and told us to get going.pits a 10k run down the other side, 8% grade and blacktop. We rou nd the river bend to SURPRISE….. the reL border crossing. Done with that 3.5 hours later, and we took a few minutes to have a  hot bowl of Borst. Warm, with taste……it was great.After the border pass, we knew we had a huge depression to ride across before the mountains begin for real. We are now about 75 miles from where we started at Tashanta at 10.30am…….pretty good all in all.

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Thebssin is the primary headwater for a major river that flows north towards Novosibirsk. The sky is heavy with rain clouds, the horizon line in e ery direction is sno capped peaks. And we are blazing a trail right thru the middle of it hoping to avoid the collision of 2 storm cells. We make it, with town in site abou 3 miles ahead, we pitch camp, make supper and roll in dogged. Up early, made a cup of tea, and decided we would see if we could get brekkers in this Russian ttown. Finally found a Kape(cafe). Never have figgured out what we ordered but it was fine. Called my older brother Bill and his family…..just to let them know that unfortunately we were still alive. Right out of Kosh Agash the road begins to ferret its way into asnarled canyon lanscape. The canyon walls become overbearing, closing in on you like a folding envelope, what began as a mere 3 foot wide trickle soon takes on a raging personality. Trees are uprooted, boulders are reducecd to pea gravel, and you have a mountain stream like so many we see back home. Before we travel 30 miles, the canyon is over 1000 feet deep, and the river maybe 150 feet wide average. Not many towns or a more apt description may be villages dot the upper end of the Chuysky Trackt.

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We have a giving God folks, we are headed in the down stream direction,,, and I am not sure my old knees could handle the multiple miles long 10-13% grades if we were going in the opposite direction or slope. . Ours are equal in pitch, but much shorter in length. Camped on the river bank, made supper, read a little Tom Clancy and my Bible. It was a very good day.up too earluy, it was 5.15, no need for that early rise. Headed down the road, the canyon walls grow ever higher, and we snake our way right along the rocky edge of the river. I have to say, what a refreshing break from Mongolia, the scenery hear is just stunning. We finally hit a small village and are plesantly surprised to find how well equipped the little store is. The people are very friendly,so all is good. Another day, another camp on the river bank.

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Got up a tad early again, the tents were soaked with dew, we had to wait for the sun to come over the steep mountains so we could get them dried out.breakfast was crap, it was oatmeal but it sure sucked this morning. Got to it and began our way off the river and headed up Semeresky Pass, about 15 miles of climb, the last approx. 5 miles are mostly listed at 10% grades. I was sore by the time that we gotto the top and darned glad there was no more ofit. The road is two lane, good, but narrow with dirt shoulder. Most drivers ade pretty good, but zome others try tokill you with the mirror……extremelyclose several times today. Then there is the driving skills or habits, and they will leave you ashen faced and frozen in your tracks. Houname it, and we seen it on Ruszian roads. So we spend more time looking over our shoulder than at scenery. The biggest mountains are now behind us, we are in the mountains still, but thesnow capped fellows are behind us. This is some of the prettiest country I have been in, and it so beats the heck out of Mongolia, on any dimension or reason to come visit. Huge green mountain sides, with exposed granite spires, dense Tamarack and Larch forests, down along the river bottoms there Birch lining most of the banks along with Willows. I have never seen birch as big as these, 24 inch butts and trees reaching 50 to 60 feet tall. Live water runs e everywhere around here. We counted 10 individual creeks in one 5 mile stretch…….we didnt see 5 creeks in all Mongolia.

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There are a ton of horses Long the Chuysky Trackt, they are much more normal sized, pretty Morgan looking for the most part. Good to see normal sized horses for a change. I got so danged tired of those BS Mongolian ponies. And always dragging that 3 to 4 foot long piece of extention cord hanging out of thier butt. That danged sticker flapping in the wind out on the end of the cord……..says, if you find me please return me to the front of Walmart.To date, we have met about 60 adventure touring type motorcyclists, had great visits and learned much about smart choices on that type bike. Only seen and talked to 2 other pedalers, we seen 2 or 3 the other night but could not get them stopped. Today, we met 2 from Switzerland,real nice young couple. They began back inMarch, and were excited about finally getting to Mongolia…….you know me. I jist smiled and told them they would love it. The road will flatten out from this point north, it look like we are alongmajorrivers on much of our way north. And YES, THERE ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH MOSQUITOS TO GO ROUND…THANKS.

Leaving Bayan again

Deja Vu, its the silent mental movie playing in our collective minds, as we ready both gear and bikes. Leaving what has become a bit of a second home for us, Bayan province, the city of Olgii or on some maps Ulgii, a dusty dirty little western frontier town in Mongolia.

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Departure is slated for tomorrow morning, and I can fairly say that we are both ready to get back on the bikes and on the road as well. The road ahead, up thry Russia on what is called the Chukskia Trail is some of the most demanding road in Russia if you are on a bicycle. That would be the gneral consensus of all the folks we visited with to date. So, I guess that our/my biggest concern will again be entirely that of a physical nature. Pray,wait and see, pray some more.

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These 11 days have not ben without fun, new friends or learning, quite the contrary actually. We are at the Blue Wolf Yurt Stay, and it is just fine for $10.00 a night for the 2 of us. I think it is the top listed stay in Olgi by Lonely Planet,, so it is fairly full most nights. In all our time here over 2 occassions, we are the only cyclists. Very few come thru we are told. The largest volume travellers are on adventure sport style motorcycles, and the balance are back packers.

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So while sitting in the evenings, we get to talk about the movie “Long way Round” and its affect on riders bike choices etc. While cycling, we have met and visitied with many of these road travellers and I think there colective view could be expresed in this manner…..”Never again on bike of this size if I go back thru Mongolia or the stans for 2 simple reasons. The roads are just too rough, eventually you do tip over and righting the bike solo is a must. But quite apart from that, theese very rough roads raise hell with all the bells and whistles electronics on the bigger fancier bikes. We have met 2 now on the deluxe1200 type/size who had to shove into a van and limp into town due to some hidden problem plaguing the rider. A delux bike is just that a bike with alot of comfort features built in for the rider, all well and good, even welcome for a rider on good blacktop. But when the roads go to hell, and get as rough as these, then you want mechanical simplicity. Universal consensus of the avid…..yes, I will be doing this again type rider…….a 650 bike would be perfect, and nothing bigger than say 800cc max. I can say this since it has een a universal statement no matter what brand of bike the person has been on…..catagorically, every one said a BMW 650 would be thier first choice if they could afford it.

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The other thing that got mentioned by all, was that of tires for theze motorcycles. I dont know anything about tires for these rigs, but a German brand was most often talked about…..it wasn’t Schwalbe like ae run on our bicycles, which are by the way phenominal tires.There is a 10 person contingency of Israeli back packers here, mostly all about Pines age….early 20,s. Good bunch of young people to visit with, all done military service, most have or are working on degrees. Last night I got to watch and learn how to make “Shaksuka”, which is a very traditional breakfast dish even though they were having it for supper. You should look it up, there are plenty of recipes on line, and its pretty tasty………beats the heck out of Mongolian Grey Soup.

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There were 2 German fellows, writers and ethnographers, traveling in a huge Unimog. A very fancy rig, they had bee onthe road for over 2 years now, traveling into far flung corsrs of the world. Being writers, researchers and photographers they had managed to put together 4 books in that time, and working on a fifth dealing expressly with Mongolia’s indigenous peoples comprising 4 primary people groups.

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We are having stove issues, and have some no BS advice for those off the grid world travellers……..leave you fancy lightwieght alchohol stoves at home. While yes, they are light, and yes they really do work……..finding real burnable fuel in asia is a seroius problem. Dont be fooled by the blogs as I, and a few others I have now met have been. I have a download page of the various and sundry fuel types and sources that can be used whie on the road traveling……..totally useless up to this point. In China for instance, it is recommended that you ask for “jiu jing”, all fine and good till you are there doing the asking. Blank faces, improper fuel is the most often offered, watered down, poor burning etc. Once you hit Mongolia forget it. This s an alchohol “no mans land”. The ONLY THING WE HAVE FOJND, is low purity, blue tinted, 71% alchohol. With that sort of fuel, 2.5cups of water brought to a boil at say 2400 feet altitude takes abot 26 minutes. VERY, VERY VERY, hard to light tisfuel on typically cold Monglian mornings……we have started now rolling news paper wicks and placing vertically into kur stove. Light that paper wick which in turn helps get the alchohol warmed up.

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One of the Israeli fellows hasa multi fuel gas stove, he is flying to UB tomorrow where he can buy a new replaceent stove,so he has agreed to sell us his current stove. This makes 3 of travelng now, with alchohol stoves, and not one of us would do it agan. If I were in USA, hey totally different story, this is a really great stove system. But out in third or 4th world hinterlands………leave it at home and buy a good multi fuel stove of what ever brand you feel is best. With any luck, when we hit Russia, we will have a stove of this type in our gear kit.

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DISCLAIMER-We have an Esbit brand alchohol stove, 2 man camp kit and it is superb product. I am confident that the very popular “Trangia” brand product is equally so. The problem or complaint is not about the product, its all about the very inacessible fuel type.

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Yesterday brought us a chance to take in a typical Mongolian Naadam. This would the equivalent of say our local county fairs, this being complete with a ferris wheel and a few other trimings we would recognize, after that, not much else is the same. The primary events are, dance or rather interpretive dance, song and music, wrestling, archery and horse racing. When these things happen the whole town turns out as you can imagine. Costumes and personal finery come out of the closet, and are worn with a great degree of pride to the event. The Olgii Naadam is a 2 day affair, we took in day 1, so there was mostly wrestling. Its unusual the manner inwhich they do the wrestling since it appears there are no wieght divisions. So it ends up as huge guys against all comers till the last 4 undefeated and they have a go.

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By 3pm, we were ready to get our buts off those bleachers, take a strol around and see what was offered for eats etc. We found what I would say is a version of Indian Frybread, here they roll the dough out with thin strips of mutton incorprated into it. It seems to methey fry at too low a temperature so thins are pretty oily when done, but the taste was just fine……yes, even with the mutton in it, it was retty good. On down the line, we seen the nwfamiliar Kazak style smoker bar bee ques, which are a long narrow metal trough witha fire pot and chimeny at oe end. Out of the wood burning firepotYou then drag fresh coals placing the under your kebabs sitting on skewers over the top. Beside the Kebab seller, there is a low table and 4 rickety litle wooden stoos, bu y a kebab and take a seat. On the table, there is a plate of cut up bread, very stale, this then gets torn up by an and all customers wh sit down. Aside from the bread, there is an open plastic bag wth a whole pile of cut up onion, again, each customer reaches i and takes what he wants…..or, throws back what isn,t  wanted…….we seen all taking place. The Kebabs were great, as were the onion slices. We have both been here long enough now that it didn,t even register till later when we were walking home that we would have never sat and ate in such a communal fashion at home. To date, niether of us has ever felt any ill affects……other the occassion of a little excess mutton tallow in the system.

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I was first up, for the whole yurt village. So I had a chance to say goodbye to Steve who left on his G 800 BMW headed for the Russian border town of Tashanta, the same road we will do tomorrow. I made some oatmeal and raisins while Pine showered. Not much else to say nor confess too, so I wil close here till we are up in Russia somewhere. ADIOS, good night and may God Bless as Red Skelton used to say.

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Killing time

Think we are clearly headed for trouble. The slow passage of time is starting to rot our puritan core, the ticking clock in our cranium seems to announce with great pleasure each second as it slides over the thresh hold. And yet, we sit still longer. Reading, talking, and then reading again…..haven,t we alreadt talked about that 3 times I ask Pine…….yes, he replies, so do you think we should just read more?

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Nope, lets go for a walk just to see what we can see, we need to be out of this yurt and stretch our legs. Off we go, armed with a couple thousand Tugrik, we head out with narry a clue as to where, what or why. First stop is some Plum Ice Tea which has become our favorite among the many teas they have. On another note, I think China has even more flavours to offer.

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We are keeping our eyes peeled for a Post Office as we have some items to post home. Pretty rough, the buildings, the streets, and the mostly nonexistant qsidewalks. The cobbled together sign reads BAKERY, that gets us, and we head in. That fresh bread arome bowls us over at the door as we push thru and enter the tiny area where sales take place. The selection is spartan to be sure, but enough to cause saliva to flow for sure. We commiserate for a moment, and decide on a 14 inch sorta flat, round loaf of a beautiful golden hue. We also choose a bag of somethings, that look maybe a little more desertish in nature. Head out, proudly carrying our cache of soughtafter bakery goods. We find a place to park our hinnies on some broken cement blocks, then commence enjoying our bread. Pine does the honors and tears of a section of the loaf passing the first piece to me……while I am biting, he is ripping off a piece for himself…….and watching me at the same time. I guess we both expected elation, something akin to orgasmic maybe. But facial expressions belie my enthusiasim, as he asked right away……should I bother eating this?

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Honestly, I do not know how you couldcreate bread any drier than what it was. It was so dry it basically sucked any moisture available right out of your mouth..you were left with nothing available to swallow with. Its an official Mongolian baking mystery to us. The loaf in question, did not feel stale in the hand, on the contrary, it even had a degree of sponge to it. Yet once bitten, it was all you could do to get the rascle swallowed. As it stands, we both ate the pieces that we took, just so we could prove our manhood and later compare notes about the bread. We both felt as if it where a real challenge to get the bread eaten……..so, if you were given a time limit on how long you had to eat it, surely then this could be made an event at one of those “Tuff-Mudder” contests

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We simply threw that loaf at the first scurvy starving dog we seen……….thwack, I turned in anger as Ifelt something hit me in the back of the head. I was stunned, and ready to fight all at the same instant. It took a few moments to register, that indeed that danged dog had thrown it right back at me. I could hardly blame the dog, he was just obeying the darwinnian laws of nature that assure his survival…….never eat fresh mongolian bakery product.

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We make our way down streets, thru back alleys into what the locals call the Bizarre area of the city. It is dirt walkways, with hugepothills that turn into swimming pools should it rain. Which for the lsst 3 days, indeed it has. A lost cow, wanders aimlessly thru the market, stopping and licking or sniffing as she pleases. Dogs, while behaved, are every where. Sleeping in the shade of acrumbling brick wall, walking in among people, generally being where ever they choose to be. People scurry by on foot, some roll thru on motorcycles till the tiny alleys just get to narrow for passage. The market is a collection of old metal containers whose doors are thrown open to become a store, the body off a small bus becomes a restaurant seating maybe 4 people. The containers give way to cardboard and plywood shacks at some invisible line, and what begins as 4 person wide walk ways eventually turns into, just single sideways person passage. It runs the gam ut, vendors sellingbrokenbags of Portland cement, while next door to that is a fruit seller, stalls with plumbing supplies, general hardware…..and a 2 chair beauty salon stuck right in between.It is truly bizarre at the Bazarre. We truly got lost in the Bazarre, its a labrynth of alleys and passage ways……..whow, what is this sudden expanse of sky and air.

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We walk out into a more or less uncongested open air courtyard within the heart of the Bazarre. This sort of courtyard is walled with old adobe and or the back ends of shipping containers, but it is a central open area. Old tarps and feedsacks hacebeen used to build awnings over dozens of old heavy “dead level and very good felt” pool tables. Its awesome, we knew that alot of pool was played here, since we see poolhalls everywhere, and single pool tables sitting out in the blazing sun in many places. This was a all ages congress of players in front of us. From just knee high to as much as late 70,s we decide to join in, andare made very welcome. They play a little different game here. Each table has a deck of cards, you shuffle and deal out 12 to each player. You job is to then sink the balls from lowest to highest as I understand it. Within just moments we had a dozen game faced individuals standing by giving advice. They would survey the balls, lick there finger and make a damp mark on the felt exactly at the spot you should make contact inorder to make the shot. Al in all we had great fun, and the Mongols could not believe how bad a shot we were. I really think they felt sorry for us. $500.00 Tugrik per game

We are only eating one meal a day out, so today we had dinner at the Kazak Restaurant. At best it is fair eats, only 2 things on the menu, so how do yuo really rate it. Its iether noodles and flame fried mutton wth spices, or its rice with chunks of boiled goat backbone. It was a little spicy, so that was a worthwhile break. Last nite we bought some bread which we sliced, a a huge sausage of horsemeat. Cut strips of sausage which we fried and slathered with mustard on our bread and ate like kings. Thats just what ya do when stuck in Olgii.

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