...I am over a month behind...I will attempt to catch up quickly!
So, on to Russia again. First we must vacate Mongolia. As evening rolled around in Ulaan Baatar we packed up and hauled our crap to the station. In retrospect we should have put the panniers on the bikes but instead we had them in our duffels and the pedals were off and handlebars folded. We arrived with a few minutes to spare and quickly located our carriage. Our system of loading/unloading involves on person running twice onto the train with the duffels and then back to help load the bikes. During that time we both have our small packs on with essentials and do-not-steal stuff. With the duffels dealt with we rolled our bikes towards the provodnitsas with smiles on our faces only to be given "the hand". Literally, their hands extended with a "nyet" and then they continued with their business. This was the first time this has happened and a small amount of panic set in. We tried everything wich included quoting the person who sold us the tickets, playing charades to indicate how we'd stow them once on board, buying extra baggage allowance, and even flatly indicating we'd fork over money (bribe). Nope. These Mongolian ladies were as firm as concrete...we needed to speak Mongolian or Russian and quickly. B ran off into the crowd blurting out something like "does anyone speak English and Mongolian?"...."does anyone speak English and Mongolian?". Luckily there was a Mongolian guy who had spent a bit of time in California and could understand. He was quickly briefed and herded (something all Mongolians are used to) to the carriage attendants. With time quickly running out he did some frantic translating. We re-learned that bikes are not allowed on. We re-learned that bribes were not possible. So far, nothing new. We've learned that sometimes to overcome unhelpfulness it's useful to ask direct questions. So buddy translated as literally as he could: "Is there a way to put our bikes on the train other than putting them into this carriage?" All of a sudden the answer was "Yes". Was that so hard? The next bit was tricky...the bikes needed to go into the baggage car (at the end of the train) and then at the Mongolian border I needed to get out and get them and then bring them back to the carriage and put them in...and then once past the Russian border I would need to purchase a "baggage ticket" and then all would be OK. I had this repeated to me a couple of times and then ran back to the very end of the train with buddy and the bikes. Of course, I got the "no" from the dude in the baggage car. This can't be for real. After some more precise questioning/translating it was determined that T11,000 (about 7 bucks) would suffice and a receipt would be provided. Good thing I didn't have anymore local currency on me. Buddy came up with the idea of me giving him dollars and he giving me T in return...sounds good. I ripped my pack open and found a money belt with some US dollars in it and gave him a 20 in return for a T20,000 (there goes 6 bucks in transaction fees I thought to myself as I forked it over!). Money to the baggage guy, threw the bikes in, took a look (possibly the last) at our bikes, and then ran to the front of the train. With a few seconds to spare I thanked our good samaratan and boarded with a sigh of a relief. As 5am approached I began to wonder why I needed to get my bike out of the luggage car. I presented some drawings of cave dweller complexity to our frosty attendants and got only some Speedgolian in response. I decided to follow the instructions and I'm glad I did as the luggage car gets unloaded and sent back to Ulaan Baatar at the border. Had I not retrieved the bikes who knows where they'd be now! The Russian luggage ticket was easy to get and the bikes stayed inbetween cars(so we got to enjoy a bunk each!!) all the way to Irkutsk with no ill feelings from our attendants. Actually, they became quite friendly and relaxed once out of Mongolia. I reckon they were just following rules to the letter as if their evil bosses were looking over their shoulder. After all, I've seen how Mongolians load luggage and people into vehicles....and believe me, a couple extra bikes on a rail car is NOTHING!!
Arriving in Irkutsk was a refreshing experience. The traffic was civilized and we even found a walking path next to the river that made for a wonderful ride into the center. Only ever experiencing Irkutsk on the Risk board it was wonderful to finally de-mystify this city! We made a half-hearted attempt to cycle out of town to Lake Baikal but turned around once the traffic became somewhat less civilized and the roads narrow. The next day when taking the bus we felt good with that decision. On the way to Listvyanka, the very touristy town on Lake Baikal, we stopped at a wonderful outdoor wooden architecture museum that featured many cool structures from the Irkutsk/Baikal region. After the museum visit we went back to the road hoping to catch another minibus that had room for the remaining 25km. Within seconds of us hanging out a white Lada stopped and a guy offered a ride..."skolka" I asked (how much). He said something like 500 Rubles which was outrageous given that we'd pay a combined total of about 60 for the minibus. "Nyet" to which he then said(with aid of pen and paper) 50 for each of us. "Nyet" I said. "Skolka?" he said, figuring that anything was better than nothing. 50 total we conveyed to his acceptance. We figured we'd offer slightly less than the bus given that we were taking a risk. Settling into the front seat of the Lada he pointed out the seatbelt. "Safety first!" I thought to myself as I nodded approvingly while reaching for the belt. While trying to finish the job by clicking it in he waved me off...basically indicating that as long as it looks like my belt was on we'd be OK. A quick inspection told me that the thing into which the belt clicks was absent anyway. Lucky enough, even though it felt like we were going at breakneck speeds, the Lada would rarely do anything over 80 Km/hr. Just like Mongolia, hills were tackled at maximum rpm and the subsequent downs were taken in neutral. Lake Baikal, as expected, was a marvelous body of water and the touristy little town provided us with smoked fish, beer, cute houses, and a place to stay for the night. Back in Irkutsk we once again packed up and made for the train station. On the way we ran into a fellow who was in the cabin next to us on the way to Irkutsk. We was in a group of 4 who had participated in the Mongol Rally. Sounds like fun, any takers?
October 10, 2010
September 12, 2010
Altai ending
Day 38-46
After finally reaching Olgii and having some rest we decided to get a jeep dropoff in the Altai and then make our way back. It wasn't actually a jeep or a jeep looking vehicle. It was one of those Russian vans that are nearly everywhere in Mongolia (UAZ Buhanka). In western Mongolia most vehicles are Russian jeeps (UAZ Kozel). But anytime people refer to travelling by vehicle they say 'jeep' whether it's a jeep, land cruiser, or van. If it's a truck they're referring to they'll say 'machine'. Anyway, after accepting that we were being a little lazy for choosing this option, we hopped in and headed out. The ride ended up being a little cheaper than we thought because we were able to share the ride in with a couple of other folks wanting to get to a nearby area to do some walking. Travelling by van was a total contrast to the previous 5 weeks. It was so fast and easy! It provided a safe shell(even though there were no seat belts), protection from the elements, comfy seats (even though those vans are notoriously UNcomfortable, and was able to traverse the painful roads at speeds unthinkable to us. Once near our destination we needed to select the exact spot...which was hard because it was raining a little bit and the sky was grey and it was cold...and we looooved being inside this warm machine! Finally biting the bullet we had the driver stop after 5 hours and we unloaded in an area that resembled a bit of a cold wasteland. Seeing the van drive away made us wish we were inside...inside anything...the van, a house, you name it! We basically rode a few hundred meters and camped on the first level and flood-resistant spot.
Waking up to clear skies was a much better introduction to the Altai than the dismal dropoff. To the west of us running north-south was the main spine of the range. Peaks with trees, snow and glaciers looked over us and the valleys between them wound their way up to China, just over the passes. In our valley there were a few lakes that we planned to cycle along. On the eastern side of the lakes the mountains were slightly lower and were quite treeless and snowless in comparison. Our first day of cycling was spent slowly meandering around a lake on a very rough and undulating road. The lack of geographical progress was not cared about at this point...we were here to take it easy and enjoy the views. Along our way we saw more balbals and also had a nice visit with some Mongol-Khazaks in their ger over tea and bread. The main participants of the conversation (dictionary pointing) were the man (56ish) and his mother (older, obviously). They were both really sharp and seemed interesting. At one point he got their passports out and showed us their stamps...reams of Mongol/Russian/Chinese/Khazak stamps of all types lined the pages. Clearly they know this part of the world really well! More biking and a longer river crossing on slippery rocks brought us to a nice wooded area that somehow escapes the view of the local gers. In fact, the very spot we camped had the imprint of a ger from earlier in the year. The next day was more slack-riding and sightseeing. Some more front rack repairs made sure our spirits didn't soar too high. As we neared the goal for the day, a small mountain that was supposed to have petroglyphs on it, we started getting excited. We pushed the bikes up to a rock where we parked them and ventured up to the "petroglyphiest" looking rock slabs. Within minutes B spotted a few and the easter egg hunt was sparked. We now knew what we were looking for. Over the next couple of hours we saw hundreds of images. Of course the quality varied and there was much repetition of the favourites: ibex, elk, hunters. At length we did end up suffering some petroglyph burnout...it reminded me of a candy store I went to in Hong Kong last year...Chris and I kept discovering NEW types of candy that we HAD to have. We made camp where we had left our bikes-no gers, no traffic, no visitors. Just us, the mountains and a lake (and 10,000 of our favourite petroglyphs!).
The next day started with us needing to go around our little mountain in order to get to a road that would lead up a pass and away from our lovely laked valley. After a ways we got to go nuts over some more standing stones and then noticed that the rocks above us looked suspiciously like the rocks yesterday where we found...pet...petro...glyph...must see petroglyphs! Another hour of petro-fever-glyphing yielded a whole new area filled with drawings. And, of course, much more modern graffiti done by bored herders. OK, done with petroglyphs! Onward up to the pass...and up and up and up. This was an interesting section as we had absolutely no idea where the road was going for the first 2-3 hours. The undulating terrain was such that it hid our road so we never knew where it was going to go next. Finally gaining a plateau we could see ahead to a downhill, a river crossing, and the final steep up to our pass. I particularly liked the uphill part: about 45 minutes of sustained high output pedalling nearly spinning out the whole way up. It sort of reminded me of mountain biking with the boys back home (except for the 100 pound bike). The other side was named "snake valley" and according to the Lonely Planet was home to standing stones and balbals. We zipped downhill for a ways and made camp next to a creek. A man and his young daughter came by and gave us a bottle of their milk. He had a nice sized herd nearby and his home was a couple hundred meters down the valley. We put out some of our goodies and shared our dinner as well with made for a nice little feast. It was a nice coincidence as this day we had cooked a massive amount of food!
Just a short side note on the Khazak horse riders...when they ride they break into song! It's always a pleasure to watch one of them gallop with one arm out to the side and singing a tune.
The next morning we cooked our cream of wheat with our new milk which made for a tasty start. Today was basically spent running from standing stone to standing stone and hoping for balbals(man stones). We also saw many burial mounds and a Khazak cemetery. The cemetery was divided up into a number of areas each surrounded by their own wall with a number of burial structures inside. Nearby the cemetery the odds caught up with me and I tumbled into a creek. With a string of successes behind me I got a little cavalier in my approach to biking across this particular creek. I took the wrong angle, I kept my shoes on, it was deep and a little swift, and the cobbles were just big enough to throw my front wheel around. After losing control I was tasked with
a) keeping my camera out of the water...which was around my shoulder and not completely done up in its case(dumb)
b) keep panniers from fully submerging sideways
c) minimize my own personal wetness
d) minimize bodily harm
and most of all
e) try to save some face while the laughing Khazak herder on horseback casually watches!
The outcome was nothing more than wet feet, damp pants, and a moistened ego.
The next couple of days back to Olgii was on mixed terrain and we took it easy. The highlights were seeing the ger trucks heading out of the countryside, school starting, and getting back to Olgii. Many of the gers you see in the countryside are summer camps for families. Towards the end of summer they start moving back to their towns. In the evenings we'd see many empty trucks (old gurgly things coughing their way up the hills) coming up the valleys and then in the morning there would be fully loaded trucks going the opposite way. Whole gers all rolled up and stuffed on the back covered with belongings, some animals, the sattelite dish if they had one, and then sprinkled with the family members. Throughout the summer most towns were pretty quiet. Although there were many small stores, usually only about half were open. Things were different now. The influx of people combined with school starting made the towns burst with energy. It was quite refreshing to see so many kids in the same place for a change. On the second to last day we crested a pass with an ovoo. There was to be one more pass on our final day but by reading the map I could tell that it'd be a flattish pass and likely no ovoo to make a final offering so this was the day. Out came my bottle of vodka that I'd been saving for the occasion. I circled the ovoo 3 times while guzzling and splashing vodka. Then I tied an orange piece of cloth that had been on my bike for over a month onto the top of the ovoo and sealed the deal with some money placed under some rocks. I asked to gods to once again bless everyone that I know with good health. The lucky passerby on a motorcycle also got to chug as much out of my bottle as manners would allow.
Some more sand, rack fixing, and washboard brought us to 5 km from Olgii and the road turned into a paved paradise. Into town, eat, sleep, ride to airport, pay a massive amount for overweight luggage penalty, land in Ulaan Baatar, spend hours in traffic jams getting to the hostel (we got the pickup...otherwise we'd surely die by some crazy driver hitting us while texting...it's an epidemic...both text-driving and text-walking). Back in Ulaan Baatar...just in time to get sick again (oohhhh...bad...a tropical disease specialists xmas present!), some self-medicating with over the counter prescription meds, see some more sights, and catch a train to Russia.
After finally reaching Olgii and having some rest we decided to get a jeep dropoff in the Altai and then make our way back. It wasn't actually a jeep or a jeep looking vehicle. It was one of those Russian vans that are nearly everywhere in Mongolia (UAZ Buhanka). In western Mongolia most vehicles are Russian jeeps (UAZ Kozel). But anytime people refer to travelling by vehicle they say 'jeep' whether it's a jeep, land cruiser, or van. If it's a truck they're referring to they'll say 'machine'. Anyway, after accepting that we were being a little lazy for choosing this option, we hopped in and headed out. The ride ended up being a little cheaper than we thought because we were able to share the ride in with a couple of other folks wanting to get to a nearby area to do some walking. Travelling by van was a total contrast to the previous 5 weeks. It was so fast and easy! It provided a safe shell(even though there were no seat belts), protection from the elements, comfy seats (even though those vans are notoriously UNcomfortable, and was able to traverse the painful roads at speeds unthinkable to us. Once near our destination we needed to select the exact spot...which was hard because it was raining a little bit and the sky was grey and it was cold...and we looooved being inside this warm machine! Finally biting the bullet we had the driver stop after 5 hours and we unloaded in an area that resembled a bit of a cold wasteland. Seeing the van drive away made us wish we were inside...inside anything...the van, a house, you name it! We basically rode a few hundred meters and camped on the first level and flood-resistant spot.
Waking up to clear skies was a much better introduction to the Altai than the dismal dropoff. To the west of us running north-south was the main spine of the range. Peaks with trees, snow and glaciers looked over us and the valleys between them wound their way up to China, just over the passes. In our valley there were a few lakes that we planned to cycle along. On the eastern side of the lakes the mountains were slightly lower and were quite treeless and snowless in comparison. Our first day of cycling was spent slowly meandering around a lake on a very rough and undulating road. The lack of geographical progress was not cared about at this point...we were here to take it easy and enjoy the views. Along our way we saw more balbals and also had a nice visit with some Mongol-Khazaks in their ger over tea and bread. The main participants of the conversation (dictionary pointing) were the man (56ish) and his mother (older, obviously). They were both really sharp and seemed interesting. At one point he got their passports out and showed us their stamps...reams of Mongol/Russian/Chinese/Khazak stamps of all types lined the pages. Clearly they know this part of the world really well! More biking and a longer river crossing on slippery rocks brought us to a nice wooded area that somehow escapes the view of the local gers. In fact, the very spot we camped had the imprint of a ger from earlier in the year. The next day was more slack-riding and sightseeing. Some more front rack repairs made sure our spirits didn't soar too high. As we neared the goal for the day, a small mountain that was supposed to have petroglyphs on it, we started getting excited. We pushed the bikes up to a rock where we parked them and ventured up to the "petroglyphiest" looking rock slabs. Within minutes B spotted a few and the easter egg hunt was sparked. We now knew what we were looking for. Over the next couple of hours we saw hundreds of images. Of course the quality varied and there was much repetition of the favourites: ibex, elk, hunters. At length we did end up suffering some petroglyph burnout...it reminded me of a candy store I went to in Hong Kong last year...Chris and I kept discovering NEW types of candy that we HAD to have. We made camp where we had left our bikes-no gers, no traffic, no visitors. Just us, the mountains and a lake (and 10,000 of our favourite petroglyphs!).
The next day started with us needing to go around our little mountain in order to get to a road that would lead up a pass and away from our lovely laked valley. After a ways we got to go nuts over some more standing stones and then noticed that the rocks above us looked suspiciously like the rocks yesterday where we found...pet...petro...glyph...must see petroglyphs! Another hour of petro-fever-glyphing yielded a whole new area filled with drawings. And, of course, much more modern graffiti done by bored herders. OK, done with petroglyphs! Onward up to the pass...and up and up and up. This was an interesting section as we had absolutely no idea where the road was going for the first 2-3 hours. The undulating terrain was such that it hid our road so we never knew where it was going to go next. Finally gaining a plateau we could see ahead to a downhill, a river crossing, and the final steep up to our pass. I particularly liked the uphill part: about 45 minutes of sustained high output pedalling nearly spinning out the whole way up. It sort of reminded me of mountain biking with the boys back home (except for the 100 pound bike). The other side was named "snake valley" and according to the Lonely Planet was home to standing stones and balbals. We zipped downhill for a ways and made camp next to a creek. A man and his young daughter came by and gave us a bottle of their milk. He had a nice sized herd nearby and his home was a couple hundred meters down the valley. We put out some of our goodies and shared our dinner as well with made for a nice little feast. It was a nice coincidence as this day we had cooked a massive amount of food!
Just a short side note on the Khazak horse riders...when they ride they break into song! It's always a pleasure to watch one of them gallop with one arm out to the side and singing a tune.
The next morning we cooked our cream of wheat with our new milk which made for a tasty start. Today was basically spent running from standing stone to standing stone and hoping for balbals(man stones). We also saw many burial mounds and a Khazak cemetery. The cemetery was divided up into a number of areas each surrounded by their own wall with a number of burial structures inside. Nearby the cemetery the odds caught up with me and I tumbled into a creek. With a string of successes behind me I got a little cavalier in my approach to biking across this particular creek. I took the wrong angle, I kept my shoes on, it was deep and a little swift, and the cobbles were just big enough to throw my front wheel around. After losing control I was tasked with
a) keeping my camera out of the water...which was around my shoulder and not completely done up in its case(dumb)
b) keep panniers from fully submerging sideways
c) minimize my own personal wetness
d) minimize bodily harm
and most of all
e) try to save some face while the laughing Khazak herder on horseback casually watches!
The outcome was nothing more than wet feet, damp pants, and a moistened ego.
The next couple of days back to Olgii was on mixed terrain and we took it easy. The highlights were seeing the ger trucks heading out of the countryside, school starting, and getting back to Olgii. Many of the gers you see in the countryside are summer camps for families. Towards the end of summer they start moving back to their towns. In the evenings we'd see many empty trucks (old gurgly things coughing their way up the hills) coming up the valleys and then in the morning there would be fully loaded trucks going the opposite way. Whole gers all rolled up and stuffed on the back covered with belongings, some animals, the sattelite dish if they had one, and then sprinkled with the family members. Throughout the summer most towns were pretty quiet. Although there were many small stores, usually only about half were open. Things were different now. The influx of people combined with school starting made the towns burst with energy. It was quite refreshing to see so many kids in the same place for a change. On the second to last day we crested a pass with an ovoo. There was to be one more pass on our final day but by reading the map I could tell that it'd be a flattish pass and likely no ovoo to make a final offering so this was the day. Out came my bottle of vodka that I'd been saving for the occasion. I circled the ovoo 3 times while guzzling and splashing vodka. Then I tied an orange piece of cloth that had been on my bike for over a month onto the top of the ovoo and sealed the deal with some money placed under some rocks. I asked to gods to once again bless everyone that I know with good health. The lucky passerby on a motorcycle also got to chug as much out of my bottle as manners would allow.
Some more sand, rack fixing, and washboard brought us to 5 km from Olgii and the road turned into a paved paradise. Into town, eat, sleep, ride to airport, pay a massive amount for overweight luggage penalty, land in Ulaan Baatar, spend hours in traffic jams getting to the hostel (we got the pickup...otherwise we'd surely die by some crazy driver hitting us while texting...it's an epidemic...both text-driving and text-walking). Back in Ulaan Baatar...just in time to get sick again (oohhhh...bad...a tropical disease specialists xmas present!), some self-medicating with over the counter prescription meds, see some more sights, and catch a train to Russia.
September 4, 2010
Herdcam 4 - sarlag showdown
Sarlag, or yaks, are quite common. Mostly they are a hybrid of cows and yaks. You can see pure yaks here and there too, but not in herds. Typically the pure yaks are reserved for the heavy lifting.
There were a few other opportunities for herdcamming but I thought it a little rude to do it while the herder was around. Sadly, although I did push through a few bunches of camels, I am missing my camelcam. Next time.
Note! Herdcamming on bicycle is not harmful to any animals. Cars do the same thing but at high speed all the time (you can see the sad results in the ditches).
There were a few other opportunities for herdcamming but I thought it a little rude to do it while the herder was around. Sadly, although I did push through a few bunches of camels, I am missing my camelcam. Next time.
Note! Herdcamming on bicycle is not harmful to any animals. Cars do the same thing but at high speed all the time (you can see the sad results in the ditches).
Herdcam 1 - sheep only
During our biking I have taken a few herding videos.
Here's the first. It's a little bumpy.
Here's the first. It's a little bumpy.
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