To Vladivostok................. THE END

Towns and cities in Russia do a great welcoming sign.   This was just outside one of our borsch and coffee places.  We were hoping for a good one at Vladivostok,  The daily rides were getting longer and the rain was getting more regular.

 We covered about 1500km in the last 2 days and Peter hadn't caught us.   It must have been tough for him doing it solo.  He'd said that he likes a long solo ride, but I know he was getting the same or perhaps more rain than us.

They've done major road works around Vlad, and of course they bypassed the old classic sign, so this had to do.  

Next day we tracked down Yuri from Link Ltd who will ship our bikes home.  It all happened pretty quick.  While waiting with Svetlana in his office, we asked where we could arrange for tickets to fly home.  "Next building"  So within an hour we had tickets to Sydney.  To fly direct to Melbourne would have been more than twice as expensive.    Later that arvo we had the bikes cleaned and Yuri transported them to his depot. 

All up, about 22,000km and complete in 2 days less than 3 months.. 25 April to July 22.  

Today is 24 July and we're trying to dry all our panniers and stuff so they can be fitted to the bikes.  

There are still many pics on my cameras and David's that I will put on the blog when I get home.

cheers, paul

Bust!!

It was about this time that we passed the turn off that would have taken us to the Vitim river and the infamous bridge.  We had realised earlier that time was not going to allow us to go that far north.  We'd heard that the roads up there were very wet and perhaps not rideable, at least for our talents.

We had the long and lat on our Garmin and decided to ride to the festival to at least meet these guys.  At we approached the coordinates we saw a group of bikers standing around a monument in a gravelled area.  They waved us in.   Its a memorial to a murdered biker.

 From the Moscow newspaper

Bikers rally round after brutal Siberian slaying

by Andy Potts at 27/08/2010 11:28

A biker’s charred remains, exhumed from a makeshift tomb by a remote Siberian road, mark the end of one man’s mission to travel the length of Russia.
Police believe a refusal to sit and drink vodka with fellow travelers cost Alexei Barsukov his life as he tackled his epic ride to Vladivostok from his home near Nizhny Novgorod.
And the case highlights the speed with which a perceived slight can turn into a violent argument, with failing to share a drink being interpreted as a lack of respect and provoking an attack.

Café dispute
Barsukov, 36, was shot in the back of the head on Aug. 15, when he left the Zabaikalsk Region city of Mogocha on the Chita-Khabarovsk highway, Interfax reported.
Another biker described what happened that evening on the Easy Rider forum.
“Alexei did not want to drink with these bastards, but sat and prepared for a night in a tent by the roadside,” he wrote. “He was shot while I was sitting, in the back of the head. Death was instantaneous.”
According to the biker the killer was tracked down after he started making phone calls using his victim’s SIM card.

Confession
The alleged killer, who had apparently been seen in local villages drunk and boasting of his crime, has admitted shooting Barsukov and hiding the body in the woods.
But it took a volunteer effort to find his badly burned body, Radio Lemma reported, with the local biker community scouring the roadsides and eventually finding Barsukov’s remains 300m from the highway.
Oleg Schultz, one of the bikers, said that it was left to volunteers to preserve the crime scene and alert police to the murder.
Meanwhile, newsru quoted investigators confirming the arrest of two men on Aug. 26 on suspicion of murder and witnessing a crime.
Police say the suspect told them he buried the body then returned a few days later to try to burn it. He also led officers to the place where he burned the corpse, where forensic experts found a few fragments of the skull.

We arrived just in time for the service and were made very welcome.  Breakfast and were given a patch to commemorate our attendance.  Bikers had ridden from Moscow in the west and Vladivostok to the east.   The upshot of the murder and the non cooperation of the café owner, the café caught fire and was completely destroyed.

 We rode on into even worse weather.  Unfortunately getting used to being cold and wet.

 We were putting in between 580 and about 700km days on roads that were under repair and occupied by crazy Russian drivers. We got to Blagoveshchensk where by battery fully expired so the bike couldn't even be kickstarted.  It was Sunday morning so finding a battery was not that easy, but Dave tracked one down and by about 10:30 we were finally on our way.

 The leads were wrong way around, so the battery hung out the side with no side cover.  The bike was looking pretty knocked about.

 Rough section of the highway.

 Cold, wet and tired.   My short front guard meant I was riding into my own mud coming off the front tyre.

Heading for Vladivostok

Ulan-Ude to Vladivostok is 3462km.   We had heard that the road is largely in fairly good condition, except for all the sections under repair.  Once we left Ulan-Ude and headed toward Chita we knew that there was not much in the way of towns that would have accommodation, so despite the weather we would have to push on.  As we headed east along the highway, hundred of new or late model Japanese cars were heading west.  Small cars towing the same model behind on an 'A' frame.

At one of our regular borsch and coffee brunches  we saw these, the fronts covered with aluminium and foam sheets protecting the fronts.   These are probably sold as new cars............... only slightly run-in.

 The sign to Chita.

 For some time now, my bike had been short of a side-stand spring.  The stand was tied up with a strap, hard to undo so I found it easier to lean it against something every time we stopped.
We heard from Peter who informed us that Ben's bike had finished to ride in UB.  Ben was still at the ger camp trying to arrange to ship it onto Vladivostok or home.    Peter was following us and hoping to catch us.

 Dave's bike was still pristine and without fault.  Smug bastard.

 We stopped at this wayside area to look at a chapel and ring its bell.  The view was great.   About this time, my electric starter was getting temperamental and I was resorting to the kick start, which worked perfectly.

 We were starting to get rain everyday, sometimes for hours at a time and 'gortex' only holds out the water for so long.   We had made contact with the Iron Angels MC in Mogocha where we'd been told we could stay.    As we got closer, they told us that they were going east to a biker's festival (rally) and wouldn't be in town.  We decided to stay there anyway and then continue to the festival the next morning. 
There is a saying here that God made Sochi (site for winter Olympics 2014) and Satan made Mogocha.  We rode in and understood why.  The ugliest Soviet styled multi storied flats, everything run down and decaying.   There must be a 'good' part of town, but we left before we found it.
 
We rode on to Amazar which we hoped would be an improvement.    Most of these smaller towns are about 10km off the highway.   When the highway was build, an intersection was installed with about 10mt of road.  I guess it was up to the town to build a joining link.   None have.   The road was a gravel track with bush right up to the edges.  At first the water filled potholes only covered half the track, but very soon they covered the whole width and were at least 8mts long.    A couple of young guys on an old 2 stroke came along and sort of guided us through maze.  unfortunately there was no time for pics, but Dave says that my panniers were well into the water.

Anyway, we made it through and finally found a 'guest' house.     We had to share with a Russian guy, Sasha who was ok.    Went for a stroll around the town and found this bust of Lenin out front of what must have been party headquarters.

 Many of the older houses are log construction and very robust.

 When the shops close in town, the steel shutters are fitted.   There must be a crime problem after dark.

 Another trashed room by Morley and Newbold.  Sacha is at rear of room trying to sleep.

Ulaanbataar, Mogolia to Ulan-Ude, Russia

We headed back to the ger camp to say our farewells to Peter and Ben and the various bikers we had met along the way and some new mates that we'd added.   Of course Roger the Swiss guy had turned up with Alex and Thom the 2 German guys from a few countries back.  They'd decided to continue to Vladivostok and ship their bikes back to Moscow and ride home.   Ben was nowhere to be found and Peter had gone out walking, so I left my Aussie hat for Dave the Scottish  mining 'security' guy as he'd admired it the night before and I wasn't going to welsh on that.

We rode north and were pleasantly surprised by the generally good road.  As good as there are, they can still throw up metre diameter pot holes just where you don't need them.

 Once we'd left Iran, and farm stock became more common we were on constant alert for stock on the road.  These are horses, but there'd been goats, cattle, camels, yaks, dogs (friendly and not so!) as well as the people.   

 This was approaching the Russian border where gers were getting fewer and far between.   More and more Mongolians were becoming settled and building homes and fences.  

 Our last land border crossing was pretty straight forward and we were back in mother Russia again and made it to Ulan-Ude by dusk.  Our plan was to ride to Lake Baikal and camp up near Turka, but the weather was now becoming  less settled and we decided to stay at the hotel and do a ride up there for the day.   We had a bit of rain on the way up but once it cleared it was ok.    Baikal holds 25% of the world's fresh water.  
On the way up we met A1 and A2, Austrians we had met in Goreme, Turkey and again at least 2 other places.  I should remember their names, but if they read this, they can let me know again.

It was windy at the lakeside, but very pretty.   Lots of picnickers and campers.   

 Small Russian villages seem to be doing it pretty hard and most houses are pretty rundown, but occasionally you see a cared for one.

Well, I'll be trucked Part 2

This is inside the ger.  Very protected and warm. This is mum, dad and daughter.  The 3 sons were out causing mayhem somewhere. Just after this pic, dad went outside and returned a few minutes later with a just slaughtered goat which he laid on its back and proceeded to skin it.   Once the skin was laid out, he started the butchering.  

He was great with a knife and managed to keep the floor perfectly clean.  I was trying to catch some sleep, but the smell was a little off putting.    The offal was being put into  a big pot of fermenting something and I was starting to worry about the evening meal.  I managed to get to sleep and was awaken a few hours later with CB holding a nice bowl of something.   Fortunately it was a nice meal of dumplings.   Woofed it down with a bowl of goat milk tea and back into the truck.

 Another nap during the night and we drove into the dawn. At dawn he did the white powder thing again with the incense was burnt again.  Clearly a religious thing, I figure Buddhist. Later  I became convinced that CB was not seeing the road too well, so gave him my spare pair of  glasses.  They seemed to help.   

Eventually we arrived at Ulaanbaatar and CB found this mound around a HT tower to unload the car and bike.  As CB couldn't drive his truck into town, he grabbed a taxi and I followed him to Oasis Guest House where I was to meet the guys, or wait for them if they hadn't arrived.

 Oasis seemed a great place.  we had booked for 3 days and we met up with quite a few of the riders that we'd met over the past couple of months.  Dave Peter and Ben were there and I moved into  their ger.    we were then told by the owner that we only had a one night booking.  Clearly not the case, but our theory was that she'd received a big group booking and wanted us out. 

 Dave and I had met an Aussie back in Altay and Dave contacted him and he had some tickets for the Nadaam wrestling finals which sounded great.    John works for VicRoads and actually asked whether I was filling in my log book!

we decided to pack up our bikes and head into town to meet him. We went in, met him and he helped us locate a decent backpackers.  There was a hotel nearby that allowed us to store our bikes in their secure underground carpark.     Dave and I had about an hour and a half to get a taxi back to the ger and grab our bikes and still make the 2:00pm wrestling.  We settled up, said our farewells and tried to leave.  The battery was flat on my bike but managed to kick start it.   I turned it off while I grabbed my jacket and helmet and when I tried to start it again....  no result!    I kicked, Dave kicked on and on until Dave made the correct decision to farewell me and head to the Nadaam.   There was no shortage of suggestions about what was wrong, but Matthew the Pom and Christian the Pole armed with voltmeters waited for me to strip the seat and tank off so they could get at it.    Replaced a few fuses which immediately blew again and then they started to follow the lines until we discovered 2 bare wires where a 12v adapter had been ripped off during one of my offs. Everything got put back un the bike and I headed off to the backpackers.  

A few hours later Dave and John returned and we headed off to John and Helens apartment to watch Adelaide play Collingwood live from the 'G. 

Today, Saturday has been pouring with rain so we've taken it easy.   Ben's bike has a stuffed swing arm bolt and can't start repairs until Tuesday after Nadaam finishes.  Dave and I will head north into Russia tomorrow, weather permitting.  We'll then head to Lake Baykal before heading eastward to Vladivostok.   Hopefully we'll meet Peter and Ben up around Baykal, if not it will be back in Oz.  They're still thinking Magadan which is well outside Dave and I's timelines.

Well, I'll be trucked!! Part 1

Before the lads left, we had a Korean meal.  The menu was extensive... photos and all, but there was only one thing available.  A big hotpot thing, very nice.  next morning after some bike work and tyre repairs to Ben's bike, they headed off trying to stay ahead of the coming storm.

 The bike had been loaded on to the truck.  Man handled up onto the 1.5mt tray by myself and about 6 wiry Mongolians including the driver who looked like a Mongolian version of Charles Bronson, to be referred to as CB from here. 

after the guys left I wandered over to the container market.  They were selling ger (yurt) kits.  all that you need to head out into the Gobi and become a nomad.

 A couple of New Zealanders turned up on an old BMW.  Penny and Igor were on their way to the Netherlands.  We went out for a meal back to the Korean Pub and Karaoke place.   Same one item on the menu.

The truck turned up to collect me and also had a beat up Nissan Bluebird on board.   

 While everything was being readied, I said farewell to Penny and Igor, who were about to head west.  Just behind Penny, you can just see Swiss Roger's blue jacket.  Yes, he had turned up again

 We head off at about 9:30 and the weather was looking pretty ordinary. I wondered how the lads were coping.    When we left the asphalt that lead out of town, the tracks became their sandy self and I was glad (for a while) that I was in the truck.   The ride was shocking.  My seat had no padding and the drops into huge potholes my body was taking a beating.    Having no Mongolian and CB having no English, it wasn't long before the iPod was on.  He spent some time doing the Mongolian throat singing, a sort of high pitched yodelling.

After a few hours of crashing over huge potholes and rough river crossings, I noticed that the truck was slowing and starting to veer off the track.   "Oi, wake up!!"    He looked at me startled, and nodded and continued.      An hour or so later, the same....

This time he stopped and walked around the truck a few times.   I knew that we were going to drive well into the nigh  so was a little worried.   Then the brakes started to play up.......... i.e.,  not working at all, and the handbrake was no help either.   We stopped and he spent an hour fiddling under the truck.  He seemed to put at least a litre of brake fluid in.

 We stopped at a ger camp some time later and while I had some great mutton and noodle soup, he seemed to visit almost every ger.  I was hoping that he wasn't having a vodie in every one.   Before the start, he played around with some white powder, several pills and some green incense.

He was also on the mobile for about 50%  of the time.  One handed steering all over the dunes.   At least I knew that he was awake. He was a good man, stopped and assisted anyone out in the desert who had a problem.

 A while later the front end started to knock badly and once again we stopped for an hour or so.  A goatherd turned up and checked us out.  The horses are quite small and not all that friendly.

We drove along to about 10:00pm, pulled off into the desert and made camp.   I curled up in the sleeper area and he unrolled his swag under the truck.    We were up around 5:00 am and back on the road. Breakfast was tea and bickies.

We also stopped a few times during the day for 30 minute naps.  I made sure that I rested so I would be awake when he was driving. 

We arrived at this ger late on the second day.  This is what the modern ger has.  An outside pool table.  This is the ger where we were to rest and eat.  I was ushered inside and told to lay on one of the lounges/bed/seats and catch some sleep.   This is in someone I don't knows home while CB tells me he's off for a while.  I was hoping it wasn't vodie again.

Mongolia Day 4...... newbold heads for the wall

The roads were getting worse and I was gradually getting out of my comfort zone.  There were some good sections and some fast gravel sections, but the loose pebbles and sand were becoming my worst enemy.  One of the patches on Ben's tube let go and another repair on the side of a track was undertaken.  Passing Mongolians are always prepared to stop and render assistance.

 This is the main south 'highway'.  It would be more than a km wide because every time a track becomes too rough or wet, trucks just form a new one.  So you may be heading along one, it'll branch into 2 or 3 and you need to make the right choice.  At times, the 4 of us were all on different tracks, up to 500 metres apart.

 We headed south and as there were no villages to stay in we headed off the road up into a rocky plain and set camp.  It was so windy, even the mossies had trouble biting us.  The pic below shows the sand storm that just missed us.  The rain squall went the other side.

 Dave just wondering whether the old girl will make it through.  I was more worried about me getting through.

 As the day wore on I had a few slow falls in the sand and bulldust and was feeling a little knocked around.  Stretched hammy, sore wrist, shoulder and between my ears.  I was having big tank-slappers and strangely enough, I was saving the really bad ones, so I must be improving, but not quicker enough.  The other guys were not enjoying certain parts either, but could handle it better than me.  I was also holding them up, so sent them off and decided to go slowly enough not to fall...... not!

 This was a slow one in deep sand.  I almost saved it. I was holding the bike up between my legs at 45 degrees, but with a full tank and all the luggage, had to let it drop.   Unpacked the bike and put things to right and headed off again.  

 After 200 km of this, I finally caught up with the guys who were waiting at a truck stop.  I made a decision to hire this guy to take me and the bike to Altay where we were to stay.  I also made the decision to find a truck to cart it to Ulaanbaatar from where the road is said to improve somewhat.  

 After unloading the bike. 

Its Monday the 8th, the guys have left and I load the truck later this arvo and head off with my bike tomorrow morning at 5:00am. to do over 1000km with a Mongolian trucker in a truck that I don't think would be allowed on Aussie roads!   I'm just hoping he has a seat belt for me.

Joan emailed and said I'm not to bring my beard home.   I hadn't planned to.

Pics can be clicked on to enlarge.