The Final Blow

There’s something to be said for the tranquility and peace of the countryside. The wind whistling through the valleys and clouds rolling overhead make for a very peaceful experience, with only the sound of birds chirping and yaks groaning to break the silence. Which, in theory, is lovely. Unfortunately though, the silence was bought upon by the lack of engine noise coming from my motorbike. We were 100km from the city, on the final leg of the tour when my little dragon decided that enough was enough. No topping up of oil was going to save her this time! With a splutter and a cough, she’d died a miserable death – a blown motor the final death blow ensuring that the final day was as eventful as the first. But more of that later.

Token tourist shot

Since our last installment there has been a lot happen and very little at the same time. As is the way with adventures, there is always a few lull days and with 600km of sealed road to cover in reasonably harsh and repetitive territory – the next few were to be those days. Well, so we thought anyway.

As if to ensure things were kept interesting for us all, on a straight, boring and sealed section of road, I was riding behind Tim only to see him pull over inexplicably. This was a common occurrence and as I approached was typically met with a thumbs up to indicate he was just stopping for a drink or to adjust something. This time however, the thumb was pointing directly down. It seems Tim’s bike got a little jealous of all the oil I was using and decided to rattle its sump plug loose, dropping its whole sump on the road in a comical oil strip. A loose sump plug was the culprit, which isn’t that big of a deal, but 50km from the closest town – it meant a long and slow tow from my gutless bike.

Small town. Bike repairs. No English…..this only meant one thing – a long, drawn out process where as many townsfolk as possible get involved. What they could possibly be discussing was beyond us. It was simple – sump plug as gone, get a new sump plug. Job done. I am not sure why it needed 14 people’s opinions, but it did. So a quick trip to a wreckers yard (we think it as a wreckers yard, if not – someone’s bike is missing a sump plug) and we had what we thought was a solution. Of course, nothing is simple in this country and the plug was the wrong size. In true Mongolia fashion though, rather than try and get the correct part, the local “mechanic” just pulled out some rubber cement compound and started gluing the plug in place. No amount of protesting and explaining from us could convince him that we needed the correct part. He simply couldn’t understand the issue. With that, and a few spare bottles of oil now strapped to BOTH our bikes – we were off again.

Towing Tim

Being back into some type of civilization has been good and bad. It’s meant we have had to carry less food and water as towns were more prevalent and we’ve also been able to have some lunch stops at actual food places, not just an apple and some biscuits on the side of the road. Trying to get something edible and meat less (for me) has been a challenge though. We thought we’d solved it by getting a note written for us a few weeks ago by a English speaking lady. The note read something like “we are travelling and don’t care what we eat as long as it has no meat. Eggs, rice, veggies, cabbage are all good. No meat please”. Well – we think it says that anyway, we can’t read the bloody thing! Our standard practice when entering a restaurant has been to give the note over and see what happens. This has resulted in fried eggs on rice, the occasional bowl of fries and bizarrely – some very nice sushi. Other times however, the note is received with a puzzled look, the proprietor reading it aloud, typically more than once, then handing to someone else to read, who would also stare at me blankly. After 5 minutes of deliberation, they would just say “no”. We were never sure if no meant they only have meat, or they don’t have eggs, or they have no idea what to cook without meat – but no meant no and we were often left to leave with our vegetarian tails between our hungry legs.

Our magic letter

A typical breakfast - stale bread, rotten tomato and raw onion with a cookie

After a few more days of listening to podcasts under my helmet as my bike screamed at 8,000rpm for km after km, we were both ready to be done.  A bit travel weary and with the prime sights behind us, we were ready for some clean showers, decent food and our next adventure for the trip in the USA. The old Mustangs had one last surprise for us though and there I was – slumped on the side of the highway, 100km out of Ulaanbaatar, loading my stead into the back of a minivan and hoping for the best. A few hours drive with a stranger later and another 20km of being towed by Tim (which was an experience all itself), we made it home. I chuckled to myself as we rolled back into Cheke’s rentals literally tied together with a piece of rope – the final act for my bike. A fitting end really!

Craig's mustang - slumped and dead

The final ride to the finish line

Final thoughts on Mongolia

5 Things Mongolian's enjoy

1. Building kick arse fences - even when there is nothing to fence, the abundance of cheap timber ensures an excessively long and elaborate fence

2. Being progressive and enforcing capital city wide cigarette smoking bans

3. Completely flaunting the above laws through sales of black market cigarettes and smoking in public places

4. Mutton......boiled, steamed, fried, raw......just give them MUTTON

5. Serving mutton with as minimal vegetables as possible

5 Things Mongolian's DO NOT enjoy

1. Building adequate roads

2. Cooking dishes without mutton / mutton grease

3. Fresh bread

4. Providing hot showers - or any showers for that matter

5. Provision of useful advice and / or parts for repairing motorcycles

Random Trip stats

• Km's travelled - 2,500 per bike
• Punctures - 1
• Destroyed engines - 1 (out of 2 total)
• Oil consumed - lost count
• Mutton consumed - 0 for Craig - plenty for Tim
• Reindeer products consumed - don't remind us!
• Chains / sprockets / fuel tank mounts / front suspension / kick stands / foot pegs broken - all
• Loads of laundry done - 0
• Showers - not many
• Hot showers - 0
• Quantity of 40m high stainless steel Ghengis Kahn statues scaled - 1
• Noodles consumed - soooooooo many
• "Bone soup" noodles consumed - 1 (Tim)
• Worst meal - dry noodles (ran out of cooking gas) with salt
• Best meal - N/A

Thanks for following

THE END :)

The march of the Reindeer

“Go South for a while, then after the third river crossing – turn right. Follow the tracks…..should take 2 days to get there. It’s a bit rough but you’ll be fine!” 

Armed with these fail safe directions, we were preparing to head way north, to a place called Tsagaan Nurr – where we had read of stories of nomadic people who derive their livelihood from herding reindeers. We don’t profess to have a massive interest in reindeer’s, but because there were only a handful of families living this way, combined with the fact that it required 2 days of motorbike travel plus one more on horseback – it sounded like a far away place worthy of our adventures. Firstly though, there was a small issue of a permit to be negotiated.

Apparently – anywhere within 100km of the Siberian border in Mongolia needs a “travel permit”. Which, to our understanding is some type of soviet carry over policy designed to protect who knows who from who knows what. Of course – it wasn’t a matter of just going to grab a permit from the office – oh no, that would be too easy. The permit office was 100km away and of course was closed for 3 days. Also – we needed a “guide” to sponsor our trip……it was all becoming a bit tiresome and cumbersome and was close to being abandoned. Lucky for us though, the weather gods intervened and we got snowed in for the day to compliment our moderate hangovers and thus had no intentions of leaving the fire warmed comfort of MS Guesthouse in Katgal anyway. We decided to trust the owner who promised his sister’s friend who worked in the office could help us, along with his mate in the army and an array of local assistance thrown in for good measure! So we were stuck. Well, not stuck in a bad way because Katgal is a great place – a little village on the shores of Mongolia’s largest lake with terrific scenery and enough to keep a traveler entertained for a few days. We decided to use the lay days to get some hiking and running in and what better place to do it with endless trails and 3,000m plus mountains all around.

 

Tim at 3,000m

Not going anywhere

Tuesday rolled around and true to his word – old mate from the guest house had somehow managed to get the permit from 100km away with help from seemingly the entire town, along with a “fee” of course  for his help and we were all of a sudden mapping our way to this far away place in the great north.

We did find the third river crossing luckily, turned right and away we went…..To say the 2 days riding were rough is a bit of an understatement. There were tracks everywhere and our maps were only half useful. The “roads” were a bit like a modern boy band – you can see what they’re TRYING to achieve – but they’re not REALLY a band are they?!?! I guess the good thing about all the goat tracks is there is always one heading in the general direction you’re trying to go. This general direction must have been half right because before we knew it we were in some “border controlled checkpoint area” being asked some questions by official looking dudes. To be honest – I don’t even think they knew what they were enforcing.

Attempting to explain why we didn’t have our passports with us (they’re with the bike rental place) was a bit of a fun. Somehow we got speaking to an English speaking lady back in the permit office who was our guide – this was news to us! She was helpful enough and as is the way with bureaucratic messes in countries like this – if you wait long enough, they just put it in the too hard basket and wave you through. We were literally trying to explain our plans for 30 mins when all of a sudden the surly dude in the army jacket just waves us through. Fair enough then…..off we went!

 

River crossings = wet feet

Nice camping

Local herdsman

Negotiating border politics

Some picturesque riding and a few hairy river crossings later and we arrived in the dusty town of Tsagaan Nurr, essentially the northern most town in Mongolia. Things are pretty remote up there with wind, rain, sleet, snow and sunshine all within 10 minutes of each other. The wide open plains flanked by alpine mountains and over 300 lakes in the region make for some spectacular scenery and harsh travel conditions. The bikes were holding up remarkably well given the conditions and even the oil baron was running along ok with her new chain and drive sprocket. Tim’s bike did need some field repairs to some broken welds on the fuel tank mounts – but it was nothing a few pieces of string couldn’t fix!

 

Field repairs - no welder? No worries

Out on the steppe - this was the view for days on end

Herdsman in the middle of the steppe

Old mate was terrible at giving directions

I guess our arrival was expected because upon rolling into our guesthouse, I was passed a phone with the nice English speaking lady on the other end again. I hadn’t even switched the engine off yet! How helpful!!! She sorted us all out and had us lined up with a local dude to take us on horses the following day out to the reindeer encampments. That was easy we thought – but the only problem was – we were quickly running out of money. We’d done our sums and with the knowledge that the closest ATM was 6 days away – we figured we had about 30,000 Turgrik for that time for food – that’s approx $15 for 6 days of food…..things were going to get desperate! With time to kill and almost as a joke, we went into the local “bank” – a dusty shack in town with an old safe laying sideways out the front and the fence half stripped back and overgrown. But travel in these parts continues to surprise and without hesitation the man gave us a cash advance of a few hundred bucks. Apparently you can’t even get a cash advance on foreign cards in the capital city so to say we were surprised is an understatement! With our new found wealth we decided to invest in a handful of beers to prepare for our upcoming horse adventure!

 

The magic bank

Time for a horse trek she said…..Now – I like horses and Tim does also. They’re majestic, intelligent and multi skilled creatures capable of carrying heavy loads and also winning you lots of money! However, spending 6 hours on the back of one does not make any part of me feel good, particularly the nether regions. After a trek that we thought might never end, with constant shuffling on the saddle to find the sweet spot – we finally arrived at a small teepee in the wilds of Northern Mongolia where we would stay for a few nights. A slight miscommunication from the nice English speaking lady meant that we’d left our tents behind under the promise of our own, nice, clean and warm teepee…..woops! After a few hours of pleasantries and much reindeer milk tea and bread – we realized we were staying with the family in the literal sense – all 7 of us in the one teepee.

During our various travels we’ve both slept in some rough spots – Tim’s best being in a drain under a freeway in Croatia. That being said - Imagine a space no larger than a modern kitchen, with 3 beds made of timber planks, blanketed with reindeer hide and a wood heater in the middle. Some kitchen tools here, a DVD player there and a few bits of chopped wood and urns of tea over there…..This was us. Obviously there was a communication issue, but the family was extremely welcoming, even sleeping a few of them on the ground to give us the beds, with momma tucking us in at night to the background music of horrible Korean movies dubbed in Mongolian.

Our little family home - 8 people in one teepee = cozy!!!

Inside our home for a few nights

The Tsatsaan people live up in the mountains here year round, herding reindeer and moving camp up to 5 times a year depending on weather and feed for their herd. Winter can get to a balmy -40 degrees and during our short stay we had snow, sleet and everything in between. It’s a harsh place for sure. Beautiful, but harsh.

Daily activities include herding reindeer, milking reindeer, consuming reindeer products, feeding reindeer, watching reindeer, and  watching bad Korean DVD’s run off a solar panel. Then repeat. The occasional trip is made to the neighbour’s teepee for tea and socializing, which is typically a half hour on horse away. The father of the house also, inexplicably throws a saddle on a reindeer and rides into the bush with his rifle slung over his shoulder searching for…..well who knows what!

The few days spent up here were equal parts enlightening, boring, entertaining and confusing. It’s a simple existence they live and for the most part, the all seem absolutely content and happy with it all. The kids espscially so who find great levels of entertainment just playing volleyball with their siblings and riding a horse or reindeer. That all being said – and although the prospect of another 6 hours on the horse made our man parts shudder, I’m not sure either Tim or I could handle any more reindeer tea, bread, cheese….anything! For more on the diet of the Tsatsaan – refer to Tim’s “Tsatsaan cookbook” at the bottom of this post.

 

Big boy

Riding Reindeer of course

Tim entertaining the kids

These kids were about 4yo and completely at ease on their steeds

A ball busting horse trek and a few days of bumpy, dirty, grueling but beautiful riding later and we have made it back to some type of civilization. Just as well too as our clothes are beyond disgusting, our bodies following close by and our food provisions precariously low. It was on the final, bone crunching stretch of riding, dreaming of hot showers and decent food when I started to think of the travel gods.

It’s like the travel gods know when your weakest point is. They know when you are on your 12^th day without a shower. They know when you’ve eaten more noodles and reindeer based products than any man should ever have to consume. They know when you are all out of food, out of cooking gas, out of energy and out of mojo. This is when the travel gods are at their best. This is when they decide that you should go knee deep in river crossings over and over again, stretch chains, break helmets, inexplicably cease the starter motor from working and get every bump along the road and place them all in your direct line!

If anyone has travelled with me before – they know what I am like when I am hungry and hours away from possible food sources. Well this was happening – BIG time. However, just as I thought that “angry Greg” was about to rear his ugly head and this travel day would never end, I rounded a corner to a sight that could do nothing but cheer me up – Tim buried in mud! He’d decided to take the “direct route” through a river where he saw tyre tracks and managed to bury the bike up to it’s engine. Completely stuck – the sight could do nothing but make me laugh! Order had been restored! After elaborately trying to rig up a towing system, we quickly realized that our bikes couldn’t pull the skin off a warm custard and had to resort to rolling up our pants and hauling her out of its mire with our hands! A final bit of challenge and adventure on this little leg of travels. Back to warm showers and half decent food (well, no noodles) for the time being, we are preparing for our final push back to Ulaanbaatar – a nice little 750km of riding to go. Hopefully the old bikes do us proud and make it home for one last Mongolian cup of tea before heading over to the USA.

Stuck

Mongol landscape

The Tsaatsan Cookbook

The cuisine of the Tsaatsan (literally “with reindeer”) is heavily influenced by the produce of the surrounding environment. The eco-system in which they inhabit known as Taiga, is a swampy mess where winter temperatures hover in the -30° vicinity, and summer just in case you manage to witness it lasts for all of 4.5 days per annum if there is a heat wave. As a result, the environment doesn’t give rise to growing much in the way of fresh produce requiring the Tsaatsan to live entirely off the teat of the reindeer.

The following cookbook has been produced by the author based on visual accounts only taken from a 2 day stay with a Tsatsan family. It has no way at all been endorsed by the Tsatsan community and should be used as a rough guide only!

Reindeer Tea

Ingredients

 12 cups of crisp mountain stream water.

50g of tea resembling grass clippings.

1 cup of reindeer milk.

Milk sufficient reindeer to produce the required amount of milk. Do not overwork the teat as this aggravates the reindeer. Store the milk at the rear of the tee pee behind clutter and open to the elements and let it sit for a day. Add all ingredients to a pot, sit on stove and get distracted by watching Korean movies poorly dubbed in Mongol. Let the tea boil over onto the ground and then quickly remove from the fire. Serve in large quantities and in the case of the father of the house, give him an extra large cup and ensure he drinks minimum 3L per day.

Reindeer Curd

Ingredients

4 cups of reindeer milk.

Milk sufficient reindeer to produce the required amount of milk. Do no milk the same reindeer used for the milk for the tea as their teats are already sore and udders empty. Add milk directly to a pan and stir occasionally until the milk curdles, starts to form chunks resembling ricotta cheese and gives off a pungent aroma. Serve in large quantities only. Consume by slurping as loudly as possibly, however in the case of a foreigner, politely take a token mouthful followed by a large smile to indicate to your hosts that what you have just consumed resembles a 7 course degustation but in fact couldn’t be further from the truth.

Bread

Ingredients

12 cups of flour

3 cups of reindeer milk

250g of reindeer butter

Sugar (as required for condiment)

Milk sufficient reindeer to produce the required amount of milk. In order to expedite the process, engage all females of the household to carry out the work but DO NOT let the father assist as he is too busy watching Korean movies poorly dubbed in Mongol. Add all ingredients to a pot, stir and let rise on top of the stove. Serve in large quantities. Cut to size using a blunt knife recently used to operate on a wound on the buttocks of a horse. As an alternative to sugar, the guest may wish to use a condiment from their home country. For Australians, vegemite is recommended and shared with the host Tsaatsan family. Do be prepared for them to only take one bite and discard the remaining portion and continue to alternatively consume large portions of reindeer tea and reindeer curd.

Reindeer Steak

Reindeer steak shall NEVER be prepared as dead reindeer do not produce milk*

*Note – even though Craig is a strict vegetarian – he professes to wishing for reindeer steak whilst consuming his 4^th cup of reindeer milk tea

Our bread knife in action

The Ying and the Yang

Getting to know our Red dragon mustang bikes has been a love / hate affair thus far and the start to the next leg was no different.  As we venture further and further away from civilization, the lack of decent mechanical assistance is very apparent. Therefore, like good preventative travelers we are, we decided to get our little monsters attended to before the next journey.

Tim’s bike, aside from his day 1 woes, has been relatively trouble free. My stead however, which I m now affectionately dubbing the “oil baron”, has been seriously thirsty. Not thirsty on petrol – thirsty on oil, burning the good stuff at about 1L per 200km. This is not good news. I was of the opinion that we just stock up on oil and refill as required, but Tim’s sensible brain got the better of us so off to the local market we went in an attempt to repair the seals, or gaskets, or whatever it was that was causing oil to lubricate my chain and the road beneath it as I sped along.

One would think this would be a simple fix, however with absolutely zero understanding of Mongolian language and vice versa for the locals, describing the issue would be just that – an issue! Long story short – we spent a good part of the day riding from market to service station to the random guy near the guest house who I assumed was a mechanic (his hands were greasy). At the end of it all – the oil baron got a tightened chain, idling speed adjusted, crank case cleaned with diesel and filled with oil and I am happy to report that 200km down the road – I was once again out of oil! So back to plan A it was – stock up on spare oil and keep topping her up!!! Somewhere in the process I have also managed to bust the electric starter also. This is no big deal really as I can always kick start her right? And I shouldn’t have to start her very often anyway right?…..well that is all well and good but the little beast is also quite fond of stalling whenever she feels like it. In fact – she doesn’t like starting at all when it is cold, or at high altitude or climbing hills. Which has made things interesting given we are riding 95% of the time in the cold, high altitude mountains of central and Northern Mongoloia. I was however, getting extremely good at parking on hills so I can roll start it and Tim is also getting some exercise in by pushing me along from time to time. 

One would think this would be a simple fix, however with absolutely zero understanding of Mongolian language and vice versa for the locals, describing the issue would be just that – an issue! Long story short – we spent a good part of the day riding from market to service station to the random guy near the guest house who I assumed was a mechanic (his hands were greasy). At the end of it all – the oil baron got a tightened chain, idling speed adjusted, crank case cleaned with diesel and filled with oil and I am happy to report that 200km down the road – I was once again out of oil! So back to plan A it was – stock up on spare oil and keep topping her up!!! Somewhere in the process I have also managed to bust the electric starter also. This is no big deal really as I can always kick start her right? And I shouldn’t have to start her very often anyway right?…..well that is all well and good but the little beast is also quite fond of stalling whenever she feels like it. In fact – she doesn’t like starting at all when it is cold, or at high altitude or climbing hills. Which has made things interesting given we are riding 95% of the time in the cold, high altitude mountains of central and Northern Mongoloia. I was however, getting extremely good at parking on hills so I can roll start it and Tim is also getting some exercise in by pushing me along from time to time.

Helpful locals fixing my starter motor

Mechanical issues aside – the riding has been superb since the last installment. The bitumen ended quite soon after Tseterleg and we both found ourselves quite pleased really. I don’t think we’d really “earnt” the simplicity of a smooth road just yet, I felt we had to test our wares on the dirt and dust before we could be rewarded with nice sealed roads and that’s precisely what we’ve been doing. The roads out west and north are a nice mix of dirt and dust, well packed down and groomed through heavy use and relatively low rainfall. We have been expertly fine tuning our off roading skills and taking in some simply spectacular scenery at the same time. I can happily report a total of 0 stacks thus far also! Although as soon as I plug my I pod in and crank my music I do seem to have elevated motocross skills.

Realistically, you can just ride wherever you like as there is bound to be a track there and if there isn’t – well, just roll over the smooth and flat green grass and make a new one! Seems to be what all the locals do anyway!

After a reasonably long day in the saddle after our initial mechanical setback, we made it to the “great white lake” and our planned camping was abandoned when we were met with fierce, cold winds and the prospect of a warm yurt for $6 a night! The lakeside setting and comfort tempted us to stay for a rest day and enjoy the mountain scenery behind the lake. A few hours of trail running up above the clouds close to 3,000m was a great way to spend the rest day. I can tell you that the winds were no gentler up there though and we also got a nice shower of snow for our troubles!

 

trail running at 2,900m

Thats our camp down there!!!

The day’s in this part of the world seem to go on and on as the sun doesn’t set until 10:30pm. Therefore, there really is no rush to get up and get rolling at the crack of dawn. However it does encourage lots of evening “practice dirt rides” after a few beers!

 

10:30pm! check out the light! 

I will let the photos do the talking for the next few days – suffice to say that we really warmed into this motorcycling business and loved the endless dirt tracks and roads to play with. The scenery has been just stunning, endless mountain scenes, rolling green fields and barely a nomad in sight. I can’t say the same about the food though – with hundreds of kms between towns, we have had to be very self sufficient. Even when we do find a dusty food shack – the options are typically mutton soup, mutton pancakes or our personal favourite “soup of 5 organs of sheep”……little surprise we have been living on pickles, bread, onion and dehydrated meals.

 

River crossings - a rare bridge

Motorbike serves as a good picnic table

A nomad herder on the steppe

A high pass - and Tim with his yak hooves

This was the view for a few hundred km - bliss!

Top 5 campsite ever - our tents in the distance

Tim has been getting many peculiar looks when we do eventually roll into towns. I think it’s partly surprise at seeing a white man riding through the country but mainly because he has now mounted 2 yak hooves to his front fork and rigged up a Bluetooth speaker to the front rack with endless Metallica and Guns ‘n Roses pumping out. Why the hell did he get the bike with the usb charger mounted in the cigarette lighter!!!

 

Tim's new accessories

After a few days of blissful riding and one hellishly windy day, the blessing of yaks milk poured over my bike when we rented it seems to have worn off. We have arrived in a dusty little town called Katgal in the north of the country and the oil baron is still pissing oil. On the flip side – the starter motor was repaired by a crafty local in a town so I am no longer roll starting it – but now my drive sprocket has stripped and chain stretched beyond repair. There’s a few more tasks we have now learnt how to do after watching old mate at the guest house strip the bike and get her running true again! Faith has been restored!

 

Another high pass

Hairy fellas

A few herdsmen on the steppe

So onwards we march with currently 1,200km in the bank we are planning to explore the lake up here for a few days and see where we end up. Being approximately 100km from the Siberian border, it is not surprisingly pretty cold and half the lake is frozen. Quite the contrary to the first few days of our trip when it was blazing hot and we were seriously annoyed at how many clothes we packed! So much so that for a day there I was sitting in my jocks at restaurants as my riding pants were too warm! Could never really tell if the old lady’s liked it or loathed it…alas – we’ve been in single digit temperatures for a while now and I am very pleased to say my pants are staying on!

 

Tim with his fan club

We have read fascinating stories about reindeer herders living in a remote mountain enclave, about a 50km hike over a few 3,000m passes followed by a 4 day horse trek. All the information we have thus far says the only way to reach them for a visit is “by foot, horse or sturdy vehicle”…..I’m thinking our little red dragons are pretty sturdy…..

Mustangs take to the road

“Bag not here, call this number tomorrow”…..and with this comment from the expressionless customs dude at Ulaanbaatar airport, we knew it would be a long mission to start our trip! Somehow and someway, quite impressively really, Air China had managed to get only one out of 4 bags to Mongolia with 2 more due to arrive later that night and the last one unaccounted for.

So, off to the hotel we went, with only a handful of belongings between us with the loose promise of my luggage arriving at 1am that night. Ambitiously, I set the alarm for midnight to head out to the airport and claim my loot. A few pints and a good dose of jet lag won the day however and it wasn’t until morning when we were able to make the trek back out. After some hand gestures, walking around aimlessly and having to wake up several sleeping airport workers, my bags were finally located. No such luck for Tim however. His box was “maybe in Beijing or maybe Sydney and maybe on the next flight but maybe not”….not overly helpful really. As I write this, the box (containing Tim’s mountain bike, guitar and tent) is still in limbo, but after a whole day chasing it up, we had to abandon it and hit the road with the vain hope of it miraculously making it to the Best Western, Kelso hotel by the time we get back to Ulaan Bator.

So finally, after 2 days of messing around with luggage and shopping for some new gear, we did manage to head out of town to Cheke’s moto rentals and get set up. It’s fair to say that Cheke is not a high end motorbike rental dealer – this we came to realize when the taxi driver unloaded us in a dusty street and pointed us towards a yurt. Cheke was nowhere to be seen but a few non English speaking older gents were toying around with a  fleet of bikes so we decided this was our place! As we were trying to load up, Cheke arrived and she has seen our type before! Within half an hour, she had us all set up and ready to roll, albeit on questionable looking Chinese made bikes. “Bikes are ready” she exclaimed. This truly filled us with no confidence whatsoever, but such as life, we were ready to roll.

Now – we’ve both done our fair share of cycle touring and if we were on our bicycles, we would be well sorted and loaded and rolling in no time. However, these bikes have motors and neither Tim nor I have any idea about motorbike touring. Turns out it’s tricky trying to strap unsuitable bags to cheap motorbikes and ensuring everything is in the right place. We’d heard some horror stories about mechanical issues out on the steppe so we’d also loaded up on cheap Chinese tools from some dodgy market in town. Getting all the gear on the bike was proving a challenge. Maybe it didn’t help that I’m petrified of having to eat boiled mutton and therefore have half a pannier full of freeze dried vegetarian meals and treats! But onward we charged and with all the gear very randomly tied to the bike (I am sure we will refine this over the coming month), we were off on the surprisingly smooth and sealed road, West out of the city.

After a few frustrating days in what is a fairly stale, boring and unappealing capital city, we were glad to be away on our real adventures. We have some very loose plans to head up north and then west. I say loose plans, because as we were flying into Ulaanbator, I couldn’t help but notice the road “network” out in the countryside…..pretty much a spiders web of dirt tracks, criss crossing each other all over the place. Suddenly, our low resolution map and a handful of printed google maps weren’t looking too useful! Ah well, we’ve got lots of food at least, so I was sure it will sort itself out.

Warm up ride in the mountains

As if to ensure the adventures were going to come thick and fast, it took us a grand total of 50km to have our first break down. Nothing like a stalled start to a trip.

It was late in the day by this stage and as the sun was slowly dipping, we’d decided to find camp when I saw Tim’s rear wheel wobble suddenly. Boom. Blown tyre. Lucky we stocked up on those cheap Chinese tools though right……”do you know how to fix this?”…..”nah, no idea….” Great! Day 1, 50km in and we were stuck! In our pre trip research we’d read constantly about how wonderfully friendly the Mongolian folk are so I decided to test the theory and rode away from the highway aimed at a dusty yurt camp in the distance. Some fairly rough hand signals and gestures later and a few Mongol elders loaded up in their blue truck and headed to the rescue.

Turns out they run a tourist yurt camp which was pretty handy, because as they helped unload Tim’s bike off the truck, I was introduced to a warm yurt, with power and fireplace. Not a bad place to break down really! By the time we got Tim’s bike back to camp the repairs were put in the too hard basket for the day. The light is unbelievable here with the sun not dropping until well after 10pm, making camping a real treat. We took solace in this but knew quite well that we’d be in for a long day tomorrow.

Old mate to the rescue

Camp in the middle of nowhere

Our little yurt camp

As the bright sun rose on another picturesque day, Tim started recruiting help to get his wheel off and I took off to the ridges in the distance for some running. The terrain all around, for a running nerd, is awesome. Ridges as far as the eye can see, fields of short grass and goat tracks everywhere. It really is a “pick your own adventure” setting for running fun. I returned with the hope that Tim had fixed the relatively minor issue and we’d be on our way….how wrong I was. Old mate Mongolian who was “helping” managed to turn the punctured tube into swiss cheese in a crude attempt to remove it and successfully turned one puncture into 7. Closer inspection of the tyre showed that it was actually a piece of shit, so we decided against putting a 7 patch tube back in it and continuing on, knowing that mechanical assistance was only going to be harder to find as we went. Therefore, we made the horrible decision to head back to Ulaanbatar in old mates truck to stock up on a new tyre and a few spare tubes. Well, Tim did anyway, I stayed at camp and played ukulele and drank coffee all day!!!

So, second day of riding and effectively we had completed 0km…..hmmm! The fun wasn’t over either as Tims adulation of returning with a new tyre and 2 tubes was soon put to bed when our “helper” AGAIN managed to pinch the tube when putting it in and proceeded to blame our “faulty” pump. Hmmm – he was duly sacked and we managed to reassemble the wheel and take off for a solid test ride through the hills. Our patience had expired by now so another night in the yurt beckoned.

Tim and his repair friend

Picking my way down a fun descent

So there you have it – the first 4 days of our adventures had been slow to say the least with lost bags, broken down bikes and very little kms travelled. We have, however, managed to up the ante over the last few days and I happily report that  after a few days in the saddle, including a sweet camp adjacent a very impressive mountain backrop, we are on a rest day in a quaint little town called Tsetserleg in Central Mongolia, a confidence boosting 600 km from our start point. Funnily enough, there is a guest house run by an Aussie here who has a few half decent mountain bikes. Thus, we have happily been spending our rest day on a 55km ride across mountains and through stunning valleys to a hot springs and back. Not a bad way to unwind really.

 

Not much around here..

Pretty sure this pavement will end soon....

Old mate and his horses

Horses in the distance

The riding thus far has been fairly easy, even for us, with most of the road sealed and dusty truckstops every 50km or so serving up boiled mutton dumplings for Tim and oily fries and potatoes on rice for me. However, tomorrow we roll out again, heading west towards a town called Tariat before pointing ourselves north aiming for Lake Kovsgol. Apparently the road stops in 100km, the dirt begins, the food stops dissapear and everything becomes a bit more challenging. It will start to get interesting for our little Chinese Mustang bikes I’d say! Particularly given that mine is burning about half a litre of oil a day…..better get that looked at really…..

 Tims Excerpt...

A travel abroad to any country which isn’t Canada, USA, New Zealand, UK, Ireland or the fair old country we call home (the great ‘Staya’), there’s this thing to contend with called the language barrier. The language barrier comes in all shapes and sizes. On a trip to South East Asia or Western Europe it comes in a small size. On a trip to Mongolia however, well it only comes in Super Size Me.

With the rapidly expanding capital Ulaan Bator embracing everything western, try just hard enough and you may sniff out somebody who can count 1-10. All this changes once you hit the Steppe.

Not only is the language foreign, so is the script where Cyrillic is used. 30+ characters which look similar to Roman ones however the sound of each is nothing similar. Unlike a trip to say Germany where you may be able to decipher the meaning of a sign, in Mongolia you stand no chance. For instance when you see ‘Mapket’ one would think ‘Market’ right? Well it is actually! (but that’s the only readable sign I’ve found to date).

Mongol is a mix of many languages ranging from Turkish in the west all the way to Korean in the east. To my ear sounds more like a mash of Chinese and Russian which makes sense due to it’s geological location. With this comes a language of entire new tones and tongue twisters making pronunciation all but trying. Craig and I didn’t go to university for no reason though. Aspiring young people we were with the knack of  this thing called initiative. We therefore put this do good use in order to ‘de-Mongolise’ the language into something we all could better understand.

It started with ‘Cheke’, the lovely lady who we rented the motos from. It was the very first person we ever dealt with on the emails well prior to our departure. Pronouncing ‘Cheke’ was put in the too hard basket so we just referred to her as ‘Cheeky’. Turns out she was far from it and gave us some very useful advice “when a dog chases after you on the bike it won’t bite, so just kick it”.

The second word we came across (again before we left) was the currency. The Tugruk. The “Tug what?” Well it just became ‘Tinders’. How much for that? Ok here you go, here’s 12,000 Tinders.

Then there’s the fair old destination where I write this. Called Tsetserleg, well it sounds easy enough to pronounce right? Well correct pronunciation is just boring so it became ‘Tits-McGee’ (think Anchorman). In true Australian fashion though that was just too long and time wasting to say in full so it was shortened to Tits. Yep we’re currently in Tits. Unfortunately not literally.