Jeremiah Watt Cycling around God's Creation

long distance bicycle touring

Posts tagged ‘Surly’

Blog44-Burgos, fighting bulls and pigs.

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Seems like ages since this guy has been alongside of me, its good to see him.

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While in Burgos, laying in a dry bed and thinking of what lay beyond in Gods creation, trying to decide a route and permitting sleep too overtake my eyelids. It wasn’t until the following morning while Jeremiah sat astraddle his Surly bikes crossbar that an escape route was actually formulated. Small roads, almost impossible to see on Google maps due to the poorly chosen color scheme they use, would wind there way south towards Salamanca and beyond. My only real Prayer that previous night was, Dear Lord, if yer really there and listening, then please put all these rain clouds over California and give me a little sunshine!

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I should explain this image, no ticket, just that every person in the station came to my aid in finding a car wash to clean my pedals. The young lady, Patricia, walked me around the town.

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I would be remiss to say that I woke to  beam of sunshine poking thru the hostel window. quite to the contrary, it was foggy, dull and ominous looking. I was dressed to get wet, and mentally prepared for the worst. Burgos, lay along the banks of a slow meandering river, skeleton trees lacking the splendor of autumn leaves,  brush, wild berry vines line the rivers banks. Forming a near impenatrable wall along the cold unwelcoming waters edge. My Surly bike, is pointed almost due south, taking me up and over the first major ridge. Churning thru the thick grey mire of fog, Jeremiah began to see a certain brightness under the cloud in front. Funny how a little Godly optimisim can give one extra pedaling strength. The fog soon lifted, and by 10am and just a few ridges I was stripping off Showers Pass gear to ride in a wind breaker and my cycle shorts. It was glorious to have sun washing over me rather than rain. My mood was ebulient.

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Noon on days such as this, will find Jeremiah pulled over, among young olive trees,grapevines, or grazing pasture, making a cup of tea and enjoying a cheese sandwich and my favorite rich Spanish Chorizo. The vista before me is huge blue sky vault and beautiful Spanish countryside. I realize that much of what is the beauty of Spain has slipped past me, shrouded in the fog that is Spanish winter. Its a beautiful country, with splendid huge vistas, and rich ranching and farm ground in every direction. For the next 3 full days I would be given sunny clear skies underwhich to ride and enjoy Spain. Somewhere along in this row of undulating hills there is a wine growing region that encapsulates the city of Villadolid. I was enjoying the crisp clear morning aire while churning the cranks of my Surly, noticing to my left a vehichle much to nice to be field hand, obviously an owner out checking his vineyard. Well, me and my big mouth and small brain, as I ride by I see tbe vehicle owner walking up to his car……..I holler “Drink California Wine” as loud as I can. The recipient of my misplaced humour, yells right back “Alto mi Amigo”. Now surely after yelling something like that to a total stranger, he deserves a chance to defend himself eye to eye with his eristic assalant.

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Would he understand if I told him that I was simply giving him the advice of close friends Walter and Jim…….both producers of fine California wines…..no, I doubt it. So, taking my lumps is in order and I turn around to face the fellow. As I roll up and even before I can tender an apology, he (Valantin Daniel Olariu), offers me 2 bottles of HIS wine from his back seat, and kindly recommends I try this before shouting California obscenities. What can I do, or say, he is so gracious in defeat. Turns out my new friend whom I know will someday drive into my yard, is a wine grape specialist from Romania. He is one of only 3 people in the world who is licensed to perform a very special type of grafting procedure. I think the most ironic twist in the whole story is when with a huge smile he tells me, “you are partially correct about one point concerning California wine, this grafting procedure was developed in California and is indeed revolutionary within the wine industry”. I leave thankful,”burdened and blessed” with 2 bottles of wine to carry to Lisbon and enjoy over the Christmas Season with my family. Burden, is wieght. Blessing, is a gift.

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Spain is gradually flattening out under my Schwalbe tires as I roll south towards Salamanca. The day I actually arrive in this small Spanish city on the countries western edge, it is raining once again. Cathedrals and interesting town squares make up the center most region of the city. Salamanca, resides along one of the Pilgrim routes to Santiago de Campostella. The Gothic Cathedrals within Salamanca are quite simply huge and grand, but not a single one was open for me to view insice. This is a pnenomenon that I have found within Spain almost everywhere, the churches are closed up…..period. My camp for the evening was at the outer footings of one of the Cathedrals that lay along the rivers edge, tucked between a hedge and 800 year old rockwork, I would make a simple supper and then go for a walk up among the Cathedrals in the evening. Feeling pretty safe to leave my camp for an hour unattended since i could barely refind it myself upon my return.

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From Salamanca south towards Portugal lies the the country most known for producing Spanish fighting bulls and the black pigs known for producing thier local favorite “Pata Negra Jambon”, ham made from the leg of a black pig…….not just any pig mind you. Just this one special Iberico breed of pig. It was along this trek thru the countryside that I sought to learn a little more about the pig since there seemed to be a ham producer in almost every village. These oinkers, are raised much like cattle, meaning that they run outside year around. They live in fields that look manicured with lush green grass and well groomed Oaks overhead. The Oaks are important within the whole storyline, as they play heavily into the flavor of the pigs meat. The heavily groomed or pruned Oaks produce abundant numbers of acorns due to the pruning. The only other food given the pigs, is a warm mash made of locally grown garbonzo beans. The sows, during farrowing season, are run in lots with large doghouse looking affairs. Each sow takes on one house, has her piglets and raises them till weaning time. The odd looking solid black pigs, with thier very small snouts and huge rear ends, still graze as a pack undisturbed for a full year before the “Grim Reaper” comes to call.

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Here is where it all got much more interesting for me. The hams seem to range from expensive to costly, yet every family has one thru this festive season. The simple family hams (jambons hung for approx. 6 months) are about $40.00 € euro per kilo. The hams are hung, only lightly salted, in special underground rock rooms where they can slowly dry for as long as 20 years. Those hams that hang for multiple years are the premium jambons and only procured by the wealthy. They are collected and sought after very much like aged wines, with certain ham producers conditions allowing better drying and flavor, as well as color and texture. Nothing is wasted from these pigs and thier production. At one stop, I had a local favorite, which consists of pig snout and lips in a stew looking consistancy made of local red peppers. It was indeed good, once you got past the rather rubbery, squishy texture. At yet another little village cafe, I had a small plate of deep fried bacon and jambon ends, these were especially good with a local hard sheeps milk cheese and a piece of bread. Spain came to and end under an umbrella of puffy cumulus clouds enveloped in azure skies and sunshine. The open road west now leads me into the eastern frontera of Portugal.

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Blog43- Ice challenge gone wrong

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The “Ice Challenge”, it seems to be the latest cause du jour, and for that purpose it has done well. My own ice challenge has gone on for now…..5, maybe 6 days. No, not the usual 3-10 seconds of cascading ice over the head. This is pretty much an all day affair, no kidding. You can say that the fun has wore off completely. Some of you will notice that there seems to be about a week of Jeremiahs life missing since he arrived in Bilbao. The reason is, I was back in China doing a little work that had to get done or else we would have bigger issues to slay when I finally do get home.

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Ever since we climbed out of Bilbao on those steep roads which take you further west, it has been very heavy overcast and dreary. First day out was 3 hours of heavy rain and the higher I climbed it turned into ice pellets as they pinged off my steel framed Surly bicycle. Somewhere along the route I had to stop and buy some food for that evening camp. I took advantage of being able to buy a newspaper and got some extra plastic bags for my feet. By the time I got moving again, well everything was trying to sieze up, no joint wanted to move. Just too darn cold. All totaled that day we hit 61 miles and were on our way towards Parc de Europa. Camp that night was by God cold. REI, states quite clearly…..NEVER LIGHT A FIRE INSIDE YOUR TENT. I understood the dangers, and did it any how.

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Like most everynight this last week, I have been in the sleeping bag by 6pm…….and shivering. No sitting outside by the campfire cause there ain’t one to sit by. I use an alchohol stove to cook with, it is very efficient for a one burner affair, but thats the extent of it. My day starts and ends pretty much the same way, wrap the feet in newspaper…..I try to find pages of Obama news, wrap my feet with 2 or 3 sheets and slip on my socks, followed by a plastic bag or 2, followed by my rain sodden cycle shoes. Long johns and my Showers pass rain suit and then hit the open road with a seriously forced smile. Yes, I know, there are things called hostels and hotels, but some of this trip has to have an edge to it. I used to put all my riding clothes down inside my sleeping bag on just cold dry days, but now that the clothes are soaked thats a different story. I know just enough about cold weather survival to know, you do not want a damp, wet sleeping bag. So I came up with a different alternative, its does nothing for drying anything out, it just leaves you with clothes a little warmed up. I use my compression sack for the sleeping bag filled with the wet clotbes as my pillow. They are a little bit warm when you put them back on with great reluctance in the morning. I am so glad I finally decided to bring my pistol along after all, cause I dont think I could/would put those clothes on without holding that gun to my head.

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Not alot of stops being made thru the day, my photo count has dropped right off for instance. Couple of reasons, the sky is so low and so heavy that it renders most images pretty useless. But to a greater extent, my darn fingers are so cold I just dont want to bother with getting it all out waiting for fogging to quit, wipe the lense, keep it away from your face because the diopter will fog……..OMG, by then the fingers are really shaking. I also dont stop very often thru the day for coffee or to talk, for the very same reasons, plus if you step inside and have coffee…..at least for me, I am about done. Everything just comes to a halt when the body is allowed to cool. Starting back up can be a real struggle.

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As you read this blog, understand 3 things…….yes, first off I am complaining……I signed up for a bike ride……no where in the tour literature did it mention an uncomfortable bike ride. Lesson two, you will look at the images and say to yourself……..what the heck is he talking about……..the sun is always present. Correct, in the images it is,  but over this however many days, I really doubt there have been 4 hours of sunshine/bluesky total. Every other moment is iether dark of night, or foggy rain soaked days with strong winds to make it all the more pleasant. And third, there is no place flat in Spain…….and that came as a surprise to me, also not mentioned in the tour the world literature.

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This is what it looks like warming wet feet over stove.

My route to Parc de Europa, which is a must see…….some other time for me unfortunatley, the park is a jewel among the Cantabrian Mountains of northern Spain. It is the home to the Basque people, they were the first people group to make a stand against the Muslim hoarde’s invasion. From this region and its strong will to fight, it was passed onto other regions to do the same ( only Obama seemed to miss the message) but that momentum began right here where I am. “Sorry Senior, but dee park is no bueno for jew I tink. To mucho mas cloud and too mucho dee snow, plus dee hills Senior are mui more dificile”. This was a real common piece of advice that I was hearing as I asked about my route in that direction, several people told me the same basic thing, and combine that with a ten day forecast showing heavy rain and snow as what I had to look forward to…..gott’a rethink things. Somewhere north of a Soncillo, I climbed one ridge at 17%, and when I topped out I could not see more than 100 feet in any direction……thats it, I lost it officially. No, no, not that bad. I didn’t break the tissue out or nothing. I just made the choice that with the current weather scenario, I could ride right thru and yet not see a thing. I rode right back down that same steep SOB and never thought twice about it……once my mind is made up, not much alters me from my course.

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With my Surly LHT, pointed south by south west I fairly flew…….till the next hill, which wasn’t very far away. It has been a steady routine of climb and coast,climb and coast. The coasting, because you just can’t take all the cold air coming at you right after a climb, at least I sure can’t. And my climbs now are broken up, I climb for a while, then get off and push. We changed things up so as to keep the hands and feet warmer, its the only way I can figure to keep enough blood moving to make everything else work as it should. In the end it still comes down to one simple fact. You can ride as hard you wish, you can boast of conquering a very steep grade the likes of which we never see at home. But within 2 days, everything you own is soaked, and you have no way of drying anything out……..none, zip, zero, na’da…….and you are done. That simple, the body will not work frozen.

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The climb out or over the Cantabrian range going south takes me into a deep gorge, imposing rock walls corridor me towards a tiny village called Villarcado. Home to maybe 300, and as I go thru I realize, YUP, you done it again JW, left it till to late in the day and nothing is open in this sleepy little town. Its not like other days inwhich I literally had nothing including water. But I was low on a few things essential to make a meal, apart from tea, water and sugar and a half a stale loaf of bread and half jar peanut butter……..so, now you also know what supper consisted of as well. The climb out of this berg was a beast, partly because I was cold, but also its just a long steep slog. As I ride the last few ridges, it is apparant that the trees faded away several miles ago and have been replaced by thick manzanita and a little sage in spots. The wind is howling, I can see snow on the very top of my hill I have to get over. I make the climb, nothing pretty, no pro-teams have tried to sign me up, but I did make it without the aid of any drugs as well……more than alot of them can say.

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“What the heck……..did you see that………..can’t be……..those are only in the remote parts of USA.”, I even rode back to make sure it was what I read. Sure enough it said “next services 61km”. Well, on I go for the briefest moment actually down a gentle grade, but am soon climbing again after having topped the pass. As I will soon come to know, its is a huge treeless mesa, undulating at times thru deep gorges. But nonetheless a huge plateau. The wind is fairly ripping across from my right to my left on the diagonal, the clouds are heavy and dense with …….snow…….theres some more. Its builds up to maybe 1/4 to 1/2 inch on the ground but is melting equally as fast……it is snow though. Let me see……..treeless……..windy……..wet………cold………dang, a person will have to pay attention to his dwelling place or one could end up in trouble. Not sure, but maybe a little over 5 miles later I ride past a small old rock barn right beside the road and decide I had better check that out. Upon doing so it does not take long to figure out that God himself put this thing here just for me. After clearing aside alot of plain junk, then a couple inches of sheep dung aside I had a resonable place to throw down for the night. Just a mat and the bag was all there was room for, I was in the bag by about 4:15 and shivering. Sure enough, about 9pm it really started to pour rain and I found my roof had a few……many, leaks. So, I dug out my rain fly and threw it over my sleeping bag.

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Up and riding by barely 7am, almost too dark but couldnt sit any longer…..or lay any longer for that matter. Official sunrise here is 8:10am. Real steady diet of decent and climb, just not as steep as the mountains I had come from a few days past. To the south, I can see brightness within the heavy cloud convincing me that maybe the sun lives down that way, we shall see. Onward thru a tiny Spanish ghost town, repleat with an old church and many stone houses and barns. Nothing stirring but dust from the frigid wind sweeping thru vacant windows and doors. Rolled into Burgos about 2:15pm, hit a store and bought a few groceries for the evening. There is an outstanding Cathedral in town, I seen its beautiful Gothic Steeple on the ride in. I took in the cathedral and left to the west on a tiny road. Right along side my road was a park of sorts with many benches. The sun had just broken thru for the very first time this day. Nothing like a little sunshine to dry things out, so I took everything I had and tossed it over benches to let sunshine and wind do thier job. Heavy cloud threatened to close down my drying episode, that was easy to see. I was just trying to time things to get maximum exposure and drying, the rain began and with it so did my race to get it all packed back up.  All in all, I was doing pretty good really…….or thought I was. I began with my tent parts to my right, not knowing that the wind had whipped my sleeping bag off the back of the bench……..MURPHYS LAW # 212 came into effect. There I was, rolling my tent ground cloth up, and looked to my left to see my bag, upside down in a dang puddle……soaked. I mean really soaked.

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As I type this, the sleeping bag hangs over a vent on the room heater in the Hostel. For $18.00, yes, I will splurge and take a room. We can conquer the beasts of cold weather and solo cycle travel on another day, for now I have a dry room and better yet a dry bed for the night. Good night to you all and may God indeed Bless those less fortunate.

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Blog Page 8, in Ulanbaataar Mongolia

For sure it is not as hot, I think we hit 80 today max, wind out of the west at about 5mph, blue sky and puffy clouds. We leave tomorrow morning, and it is supposed to start raining. Not so bad all things considered.

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Walking the dusty dirty streets of Erenhot on China/Mongolian border

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Follow round the bend, about 100km due south of Ulanbaataar Mongolia
What can I say, except we are now in Mongolia and wow is it desolate. POOCHY MAGIE, you are on your own out here. Apart from plenty of water and food, along with maps and a compass……we have to bring our own rocks for our funeral Cairn!The morning began by hauling our gear, all packed and rolled tight within the confines of what is locally “Mongolian Samsonite”, which is nothing more than a Standard issue feedsack. We tied it tight with wrapping bands and lug hauled it up the stairs and over the bridge to the Main terminal.

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The very ornate dining car, Pine asking in excellent French for help from fellow Francofone.

Everything just sort of fell into place once we got inside theterminal, and we had plenty of time to get boarded and underway. It seems like you climb strait out of Beijing, winding your way along the precipitous edge of  A rivergorge, pa What st huts and precariuos farm plots on the mountains edge. Below, at a distance of sometimes hundreds of feet,and at other times it seems at arms reach, you have the locals existing. Existence in the very barest of terms. These hardy farmers in this rugged landscape have planted millions of trees, I have profound respect for the skills of those who farm this region. Considering what they have for equipment it is really remarkable to see.Climbing out and over that Huangshan row of mountains brings you out onto what has seemed to be a huge plateau, As we were close to the mountains it was mostly crop farming. now as we traverse a due north direction, the  countryside has begun to gently roll, and farm ground has given way to a grassy expanse that touches the horizon. An edifice as to the expansive nature of God, and a reminder of mans frailty within all that has been created.The sky has been thick, flat gray with the pallor of death. We simply cant tell if we are seeing a heavy mask of air pollution, of just a flat low sky……we are jaded, we have been in Beijing too long.

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Seen in Ulan first…..?

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Sukbaataar Square

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The slum streets of Ulanbaataar

Our sleeper car is rather comfortable for a 60,s era Soviet train. For an additional 35 dollars we could upgrade to a 2 man sleeper which has been a smart choice. We even have a shared shower with the couple next cabin. There is a dining car about 2 cars above us as we are arrainged on this train. The Conductor comes by and gives you a meal voucher for a certain time, and with one dinkng car it is pretty brusk and swift service that you get. Think I might take up a collection and try sending one particular waitress to CHARM school. Who would have thought that Nurse Cratshit of One Flew over the Cuckcoos Nest fame would have a Chinese half sister!!!We headed down for our appointed time for lunch but missed it by but a few moments, to which our happy waitress said ” Tsing dachou guam cho ti phat shur zum”. Which is ” suck eggs buddy yer to late”. We sure didnt make that mistake at supper time. Its community dining during meals, just neverknow who will be parked beside you. Tonight we had the pleasure of sitting with a young couple from Israel. Both just got finished with 6 years of service and were taking a break.Darom and Navila. They are headed into western Mongolia as well, but then south to Urumqui and beyond into Tibet. Nice couple, had a brief visit about travel and safety in Israel. Come visit is what I think they would tell you.

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Nothing too see here folks, just another Yurt Slum

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Sukbaataar, the man who gave Mongolia independance back in 1926

Its drawing onto dusknow, and the slate grey sky is beggining to recede back into the black that masters it by night. The countryside has now flattened to that of unleven bread, the grass, what there is is so short as to be nearly invisible. If someone tells you they seen grass up to a Goats belly…….then you can be sure it was a SHOT goat. The train is idling along at about 40 miles perhour, there will be a 3 hour rest stop as we reach Mongolia. The train crew needs to reguage the wheels on all cars so as to move forward onto the narrower Mongolian lines. As this same train enters Russia, it will again be reguaged to ride the Russian track widths.

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Gangordugodesh or something Monestary…..sorry the travel map is packed….too lazy to go get it

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Same shopping Mall, different day

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Buddist Shrine
OMG, OMG……ther are huge sheep shears out on the horizon….forty foot towers and 20 foot blades whirling by…sorry false alarm, just wind turbines.

So, the three hour break proved to be quite an episode. First they roll the train into a shed of sorts, then they break the train into sections ans shunt cars around. Thats a pretty rough go round. They jack all the cars up some 4 feet and remove the wheel assembly from the bottom of each car and reattach new narrower ones. Drop all the cars back in place and reattch. The new engine comes and pulls all thecars back out on to the new tracks as they are ready. The wholetrain rolls ahead about 1/2 mile and just shuts down, dead quite. So, almost all of us settled into our bunks for a nites rest. Some where around. Idnight maybe a little later there is a knock onthe cabin door PASSPORTS, PASSPORTS. We hand them over when the door opens………..nothing……….nothing………nothing, heck I am going back to sleep. Maybe another hour rolls by, knock,knock……..a Lady Officer steps in, bruskly asking about stuff in a language you dont understand and she is constantly trying to turn the lights on. Our cabin seemed to have a new switch designed by Pen&Teller, as it seems you had to turn around 3 times ccw to make it turn on, and hop on one foot to get it to turn off……..didnt seem to us that she knew her way around trains that well, she didn,t know any of these really common train tricks. What is in here, open it up, show me dat, lift this up, who ishe, why are you in Mongolia, where is dat bicycle. Yeah, its pleasant. She is gone, lets get back to sleep and Pine and I are out.I am up first, Pine is still slack jawed and slobbering. Down the hall to the Loo, and do the morning thing, brush my teeth that sort of thing. Man I hate it when the toilet seat hits me in the back of the head when I am getting a drink.

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Pine, doing a little people watching

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Its a gorgeous azure sky, with cotton ball clouds chasing each other across the Mongolian sky. We are now approx 200km south of Ulan, and the grass has really improved, plus we areseeing running water which makes us feel better. We arrived in Ulan at about 2.30pm, its a dusty dirty place with plenty of slum edge to make up for a lack of downtown.now getting the bikes away from the train was a real episode, of which Pine took care of all of it while I watched our gear. 3.5 hours later, and paying an import fee of approx. 60 cents to get the bikes out. Plenty of paper work, Pine even had to make up his own declaration form on a paper napkin to turn around and hand back in. Then walk back to other end of train yard to do more paper work.Bottom line, we got them and they are functioning.

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Always watching you Mike Wozousky.

We loaded the bikes and rode to our White House Hotel. These Mongolians, they drive fast and rude let me tell you, pretty scary on these streets. We shopped for some groceries tonight, then took a awalk about to say we have seen some of Ulan. We dined on some great Doner Kebabs tonight instead of noodles again. George my German friend, the Doners were great……I am still going to start one of these when I get home.Okay, we have transpired one more day in UB as the locals call it. We walked a plenty today, and I am dogged. We made the finding of alchohol our first job, buying 1oz bottles and pouring into a water bottle, now we have to use it with a little care. Next was a knee brace, not one to be found anywhere in this town. From that we headed for an English book store, Pine needed more books. I also bought one to read, not to much text but lots of places to color in. There is a world famous Blck Market Bazzar here…….more crap than 1 canshake a stick at. Strike that bit of advice off the Lonely Planet must do list. Then we heaed up to the Ghandantegchenling Monestary……….ah. Okay you need to remember we are in Mongolia…….they could maybe mow a little grass and pull a few weeds……put out a few trash cans. Huge building with the usual ornate gable ends and roofs, the rest painted white in 1945. Pay at the door, the guy only stops those who do not look Mongolian , kid ya not , Pine walked right in the little Mongol…..I got nipped.

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Once inside, wait a good 10 minutes to let you eyes adjust to the very dim light. Center is a Budda done in gold leaf off Swiss chocolates, its huge, I am lying about the chocolate wrappers. The entire wall area is line with floor to cieling shelves holding sort of Budda dolls in gold capse with tiny fur hats. The same area as it faces Budda is lined with 3 rowa of huge Prayer wheels all made of brass. These folks are the prayer wheel spinninest folks ever….Pine and I figger each brass wheel should be loaded with the makings for ice cream, by noon you would enough fresh ice cream to make a fortune.We headed to the Doner Shop again. But this time we visited with the fellow who owns it, from Colomb Geremany. Real nice guy, he is the head chef down at the Kempinski Hotel, and owns the Doner shop on the side. We learned alot about UB in our visit with him.

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10 days road rations layed out. that and enough water to go duck hunting in.