A bit like the Long Way Round except the other way (Wrong Way Round?) but without the support crew, drama and cash. Oh, and no movie stars were hurt in the making of this adventure.
Tell me again why anyone would abandon their family for months, camp in the cold and heat, cross deserts and eat sheep testicles cooked in a steamy broth.
Well it all began like this...T'would that the goal was noble, that glory shine upon us all equally.
The truth is, there will be no glory, just sore bones, long days and bureaucracy to cry for. There will be times when I will seriously consider killing someone and in the absence of other suitable candidates, it may even be me.
It is a rule of life that no matter how long nor how hard you work, when the deadline arrives, you won't be ready.
As the time draws near, the enormity of what we are attempting begins to dawn.Maybe I don't have a very active imagination or maybe I'm just stupid but how come when people question the dangers of our trip, I haven't even considered them? The HUBB has been great in this regard. There are few anecdotes about the pirates, brigands and murderers who are apparently waiting around every corner to ambush travellers especially motor-cycle travellers. On orange motorbikes.
The last-minute flurries are over, the alarm clock has rung for the last time for 5 months and the plane awaits.In that moment of silence between kissing your family good-bye and turning to face the boarding gate, some things become clear. It is like the image burned on the retina by a camera flash in a darkened room. Vivid, static, monochromatic and stark. It is a still life of my family with all their hopes, fears and love frozen in my mind.
On Russian soil and keenStrolling out of the ferry building blinking in the bright sun, we are met by Dmitri. He is one of the strong community of bikers in Russia. They gather in August each year for the 'Facing The Ocean' rally on the coast north of Vladivostok. They have a well-deserved reputation for hospitality and assistance to overlanders. In fact Uwe and I had both contacted them independently prior to our arrival.
The bike is released from customs and the journey can beginD-day, I am at customs before opening time rearing to go. And so I hurry up and wait while the ever-pedantic Japanese bureaucratic engine grinds slow but exceeding fine.
Troubles alreadyWe headed out of town towards Birabidzhan 200km away on a sunny cloudless day. We crossed the huge Umer river bridge. This took some time since the river is wide like the Mississippi, the bridge extends over the flood-plains and the speed limit is 40km/hr. The land in that region is lush and green (mainly due to it being swampland). Those endless green swards are bottomless peat relieved only by the beautiful birch forests where the water is not so deep. Deep blue irises decorate the green.
All alone at the start of the gravel60km west of Birabidzhan, the gravel starts. Easy going for a dirt bike but hard on cars and trucks. Most of the road is fine but there are sudden dips that would damage a car at speed. Soon I am having fun at 100km on the gravel. Since the road is fairly straight, this is a maintainable speed. The KTM is coming right at that speed, too slow and the ride is uncomfortable and the bike wants to dig into the gravel. At times in the deeper gravel the bike twitches but either standing or sitting well forward corrects that.
The joys of Russian plumbingThe hotel in Tynda is I believe a common occurrence in the space-time continuum, It is a place where time can stop for 30 years. Maybe it's another dimension but nothing had moved in that hotel for some time (except the furniture, most of it being in the corridors).
Catch it while you can, 'The Gap' is getting smaller.Into the gravel for real now.Originally the Zilov Gap, the westerners name for the unformed road from Khabarovsk to Chita, was 1200km of hell. Since reputedly 60% of the roading budget has gone into completing the paved road from East to West, the gap has shrunk and the gap that remains is a effeminate facsimile of it's former self.
The biggest swamp in the worldThe day is cold and I soon stopped to gear-up, neoprene ski-mask, down jacket and thick gloves. Not far north of Tynda, I caught up with the easily identifiable Landcruiser of Frederick & Josephine. They are a young Belgian couple who sold up everything and have spent the last year in Africa and are now in Russia. We had met on the Fushiki-Vladivostok ferry and had spoken again briefly in Birabidzhan. While we expected to meet in Yakutsk, meeting them here was an unexpected bonus.
Party TownImmediately found an internet cafe as any new-world primate does. In the good old days you found the nearest bar, slaked your thirst and talked about the trail you had ridden and the women you intended to. Not so now, it's all e-mails and web-sites. We communicate more and more about the things we have time to experience between e-mails.
The mean streetsToday is the start of the big push to Ulan-Ude where hopefully I will meet Bill. I have 6 days to do the approximately 3300km. That's like Auckland to Wellington 5 times in a row over mostly gravel roads. This certainly puts distances into perspective.
I head off by 8:45 for the ferry landings due south of Yakutsk. We had checked out the sign-posted turn-offs on our fishing excursion. By taking a more southern crossing from the western side of the Lena, I would eliminate 100km of gravel road. Cunning!
Delay and Frustration in the big cityUlan-Ude, capital of Buryatiya and a place to catch up with my riding partner-to-be Bill.
Back and waitingArrived back in Ulan-Ude full of the expectation that DHL would have managed in the 5 intervening days to get my parts from Novosobirsk to Ulan-Ude. Cruel mistress that she is and obviously Russian, bad weather had delayed the flight and so the parts were sent back to Moscow, AWAY from Ulan-Ude. The parts were now exactly where they had been a week ago!
Thursday 12th July and I am boarding the morning (and only) bus to Ulaan Baatar. It is good to confirm the route out of town but the heat of the bus and lack of reading material soon claim me and I sleep fitfully with the jolting of the 'good' road to the border.
The GobiA trip has been planned in the last week. Four of us are to do a loop of the Gobi down to the dinosaur bones, the big dunes and back. This is what I rode all this way for. Team members are:
Bill. My riding buddy from Wisconsin (KTM640 Adventure)
Mario. A german rider who has been holed up in UB nursing a dislocated AC joint in his shoulder (Honda Africa Twin 750)
Renee. the owner of the Oasis (Kawasaki KLX250)
Myself (KTM400 EXC)
The northern routeSunday 29th July, 9701km
Today is maintenance day in preparation for the ride to the western border of Mongolia.
We set up a tarpaulin and workshop area at the Oasis. Renee and Sybille are amazingly helpful in this regard assenting to almost any request. We have convinced him that a concrete-floored carport would be just the go for all these bikes.
The 5200km dash across Western RussiaThursday 9th August (11903km)
Awoke to fine weather and a perfect temperature. Dried the tents and set off on great roads and amazing scenery. This is the Russian Altay, kilometre upon kilometre of mountains rivers, passes and snow. Woohoo!
Out of Russia and into Europe?Thursday 23rd August 17114km