The road to Ulaangom

The “road” is not so much a road here. Mongolia is a place where the “middle of no where is somewhere” to quote Natalie (whom we met on the train to UB) and this past week has proven that time and time again. The main highway, the northern route or A018 as it is known on the map, is usually no more than a series of two tracks on the vast Mongolian steppe. Sometimes it is a simple trail in the mountains, sometimes it picks its way through fields and forests, other times it is nothing more than the muddy (or if you are lucky dried mud) remains of where a few cars have driven recently. Yet somehow this is the equivalent of an interstate. All the locals know right where this thing is and occasionally you might even see some traffic most often traveling in a caravan for what I can only assume is added safety. The words “we are out there” were uttered by both Kyle and myself on far more than one occasion. It is interesting coming from the states to here. The states, which can feel truly wild and remote, don’t hold a candle to Mongolia. I challenge any off road enthusiast to simple come here and drive the “highways”, if you think you know what 4 wheel driving is I can now confidently say you have no idea until you see the everyday road conditions in most of western Mongolia and the main route is actually considered to be very good. This is one of the only places I have ever been that trucks and suv’s with snorkels ACTUALLY NEED them. When I say need I mean simply to get back and forth to town need, and those are just the nice vehicles! You should see the mish-mash of soviet jeeps and vans, ranch trucks, and always motorcycles all over the place. It is not unusual to see a truck incredibly overloaded with wool (I mean like 15feet high and falling over/out loaded) barreling down the road at you or behind you. Not to mention the way people rally their Prius’s out here. It’s pretty impressive and puts the way we take things like oh say ROADS for granted in the states in perspective.

These are exceptionally "good" roads and the main "highway"

Anyway the week started out rather uneventfully. After escaping the vortex of Hotgol and spending a day hanging out in Moron we were off. Like I mentioned last round this marked the end of the pavement, at least that we would see for a while. We were definitely not feeling amazingly fresh so the prospect of roughly 400 miles of rough dirt wasn’t sounding amazing, but hey ADVENTURE! After getting some gas for the stove it began. Bumbing our way out of town we suddenly heard some familiar American sounds. Introducing Dave and Frank.

Kyle, Dave, some guy, and Frank

the excursion in the background

These two guys have been living on and off in Asia and around the world for years working as consulting geologists for mineral companies and are about as American as you can get, right down to the diesel Ford excursion they were driving. They offered us a ride as far as Testerleg, about 200k down the way, and we gladly accepted. What followed was a great and hilarious day of shooting the shit, bumping down some awful roads, good humor, and most importantly some great food! We were treated to actual vegetables (a rarity here), smoked fish, grilled lamb, and some cocktails to boot. It was a great way to make up some time, rest a little more, meet a few great guys, and get some greatly appreciated help and advice (not to mention supplies, they loaded us up with canned oysters, oatmeal, and all kinds of stuff), and good company. The general generosity of this country seeps into everyone who lives here it seems!

Bronze and Iron age standing stones and graves

seen along the drive.

After that it was actually time to hit the road. Right off the bat it was an adventure. We helped a truck that was stuck in the river with the assistance of a French couple in the sweetest truck rig ever! They then made us some real coffee. It has been Nescafe since China and real coffee was a treat. Then the ride continued. Days of dirt, sand, and dust mixed with spectacular scenery and curious locals followed. At times the road was good enough to cover some serious ground, other times it was so sandy pushing was our only option. Our Aussie friends will be happy to know we are living up to the "push-bike" lable. But one very interesting highlight is we stumbled upon another Nadaam!

The awesome French rig that was complete with coffee!

Nadaam again!

After a hard and long day we rolled into Tes. A small town but the center of the local Sum (district) and lo and behold Nadaam! This one was much better and we were the only white people there. Of particular note were the horse competitions. Riding hard and picking things up off the ground, wrangling, and basically Mongolian rodeo were the name of the game. There was also actual archery and we met this guy:

A new friend and some archery

Who spoke a little English and showed us around with his friends. This included getting into his car speeding off like a bat out of hell to an unknown location. At first it seemed this might end badly but he just wanted to show us a special local tree. Adventure. Then after all the festivities, and more Hoshuur, off again towards Ulaangom.

Some more Nadaam characters

A few more small towns, a kid who spoke great English and gave us a Mongolian lesson, and an interesting but harmless interaction with the local police later and we were 130K away and 115 from pavement. This turned out to be the hardest day yet! Miles of washboard, sand, and heat in excess of 95F with no shade, very little breeze, and no water. I was carrying 8 liters and drank every drop. If you want to know what it was like go ride a 60+ pound bike on the beach for 4 hours and do another 5 on the most wash-boarded road you can find. But we made it! 130K, terrible roads, and 9 hours. In the process we passed the largest lake in Mongolia, Uvs Nuur, a huge salt lake that resembles an inland sea. And guess what! In Ulaangom it was Nadaam all over again, we just can’t escape it. This time it means the town (which is essentially a large city by Mongolian standards) is packed and crazy.

Sand, sand, wash board, and more sand

So here we are. Taking a few rest days and trying to figure out our next move. There are more opinions about the road conditions moving west than there are people and all we want is to get back into the mountains and out of the desert. Hopefully with the help of a few conflicting reports from motorcycle tourists and locals we can find the least painful way to go but either way we will forge a path. To the mountains then eventually in the next two weeks to China. The adventure continues!

Dirt, or a tan? Mostly dirt

The "highway"

A few of the locals. There are supposedly 16 head of

live stock for every person in Mongolia.

From the road, Buddhist and Shamanistic monuments are a 

common sight I hope they bring us good fortune.

Before a Mongolian hair cut.

After, angry face included (it's hot out). I once again

proved my theory that cultures that don't grow facial hair won't

trim your beard for you. Done with scissors.

On another more somber note I learned this week that a friend and mentor of sorts of mine passed away suddenly. James Wilson, whom I knew as friend and board member of the organization I used to work for, has left for the next adventure. He was a great man and one of the fittest nearly 70 year old guys I have ever met. His passing and hours of riding has given me reason and a chance to reflect. Life is short and nothing is certain. You can be here one day and gone the next. I have a bad habit of getting caught up in the small stuff, giving into stress too often, and putting off the fun for an over developed sense of obligation. James, although very hard working and an avid conservationist, loved a  good hike, a good adventure, and a good time. He, and his memory, will remind those who knew him to get out and get after it, to work hard but also have a good time. Take a minute to soak in the beauty of the world and revel in the moment of whatever you are doing. Just like pushing my bike through deep sand under the desert sun, sometimes life sucks, but when you step back it is all just part of the big picture that is life in general. Enjoy every moment, make it your own, live it to the fullest, and go down fighting and laughing. James, this one is for you man. You were a huge influence on everyone you knew me included and I will try to live more fully thanks to you and your example. Until the next time man, journey well.

Be well everyone!

Hoshuur, the vortex!

We made it! Out of Hotgal, away from kovsgal, and back to Moron. Seven days later! We got caught in what is known as the vortex.

Vortex... Noun.
Hiker/traveler term for the warm fuzzy feeling you get from cold beer, hot food, showers (even though I only took one all week somehow), rest, and good people give you that make it difficult to continue moving and fight the inertia.

Our particular vortex, MS Guest House and the motley crew of wayward children (us included) gathered there for the Nadaam festival. Also their continuously stocked beer fridge was nice. This particular guest house seemed to attract a special kind of good person, maybe it was the camping space, the budget price, the atmosphere, who knows but it was a hell of a good time. The lake was pretty great too, I'll get to that.

The fire master (little silent old guy who worked

24 hours a day stoking the fires) breaking up sheep legs

with a hatchet. A normal sight in Mongolia. Plus two travelers we met

Luc and Christine.

The MS family grew to be a pretty tight crew by the end of the week and our end of stay Ger dance party, complete with open fire BBQ. What had, ostensibly, brought us all there was the Nadaam festival, which translates to more or less "games". It seems to be an excuse to have horse races and wrestling tournaments and is the equivalent of a national fair. There are vendors, games, people gathered, and community events. After contemplating Nadaam back in Moron a series of not so rest rest days spent biking around the lake and drinking around the fire made staying put an attractive decision. So we did. the days leading up to the festival were spent biking to Hatgal, two days one of which was started by horses being herded through our camp at 4 am and then a hilarious interaction with the herder at 8:30. The guy informed me that since I am not married yet and there are many Americans in Hatgal I should impregnate one and have twins. Seems logical. 

Moving on...

Once we arrived, after some rain, we quickly found the guest house 5,000mnt a night plus 7k for dinner and 2,500 for beer. About $8 a day, not bad. We were greeted warmly by some travelers already there and we immediately felt welcome.

Christine and Thorban (Tom if I spelled that

wrong I'm sorry)

They quickly showed us the ropes and we just continued to meet great people over the course of the next week and made some great new friends.

We dedicated a few days to biking around, sans gear, and exploring the lake. On our first excursion we did some off road riding and exploring and found a sheltered cove. It was quite nice and made for a short and easy day.

A nice spot for a snack.

The next day proved to be more interesting. Of course we hung out and met even more travelers that night and in he morning. Including several Dutch guys who had driven from Holland and Peter from England.

Setting out for another lake exploration on what we thought was our last day in the area we opted for a little more adventure. What ended up happening was a 50k day that included almost 3 hours of bush whacking through the Mongolian forest, with bicycles, getting hilariously lost, and finally finding an amazing beach. It was like time travelling in a way, pushing our bikes through dense medieval forest expecting to see some isolated nomad tent around the next hill, or run into some prehistoric forest beast, with no real sense of time and only limited idea of where we were. It was great. But it sure as hell didn't make for a good rest day. Bushwhacking with bikes is hard, as should be expected. 

Where is that damn lake?

Easier trail.

We did, eventually and after loosing some blood and inhaling a few flies, make it to the lake. To a pretty idyllic spot too. The lake lived up to its reputation, big, cold, and beautiful.

WE FUCKING FOUND IT!

Beautiful.

Yak.

A true rest day was needed, that turned into two rest days which then bled into Nadaam. More and more people were arriving at the guest house and the crew continued to grow as well. This of course led to more campfires and beer. It doesn't help that it doesn't get dark here until 11:30pm making late nights easy. Then the party that is Nadaam happened!

Like I said before Nadaam is more or less a national fair complete with sporting events and greasy food. Hoshuur, a deep fried meat pastry, was in abundance and became our battle cry. We watched the festivities. looked for dance parties (occasionally finding them and creating our own when we didn't), and hung out. It was a good time!

Archery.

Wrestling, the primary national sport.

Then the rains came. It rained hard for nearly 36 hours. This erased almost any idea of leaving on bikes. It seemed to keep most everyone else around too. Some were traveling via motorcycle, some by bus, some hitchhiking, but everyone seemed ready to wait out the rain. Sleeping, eating, reading, and beer drinking were the name of the game. Also some creative construction projects to facilitate a bbq. To fit in with the locals we all bought a few sheep legs from the local butcher hut and got busy.

Will it work or just burn?

Neck roast and veggies.

Igor the head chef.

Kutts cutting up the first round.

The bbq was a massive success and was delicious. The party that followed was even better. Rousing rounds of Bohemian Rhapsody in the Ger, bottles of Chinngiss Vodka, cheap Mongolian beer, and great people what more could you want?

Hamish, Igor, Danish guy, Peter, Danielle, Ollie, and Kyle back there.

Great people and great times!

The resident little girl who was always keen to hang out

with the ragtag band of travelers.

Feeling rough the next morning it was time to go! and it started to rain again. Thankfully we managed to get a hitch about 100 yards away when we stopped in at the store. A great Mongolian man with his family running from the rain on vacation. AND! He spoke English, which we learned when he helped translate for us at the store. It was huge to get the 100k back to Moron done in an hour instead of a day. Bikes strapped on the top of a land rover and good conversation.

Great guy!

Tomorrow we set off west, the pavement more or less stops and civilization gets sparse. The mountains get bigger too. It will most certainly be a challenge. The last week has been an interesting mix of emotions and looking forward I am sure it will continue to be. Not moving always makes it easy to get caught in your head. Thinking about the future rather than living in the moment, thinking about the past for no real reason, all the pitfalls of being human. Being surrounded by so many amazing people on their own journeys is at once inspiring and self reflection inducing. What have I been doing? What am I looking for? All the existential questions come flooding in when you sit idle. I'm sure the answers are out there, and in the end does it really matter? The journey continues, we are all chasing something. The key is, I suppose, to be satisfied in the chase and enjoy the task and the trip and not ever expect to catch the "something". If you do catch it, good for you, but if you don't have a damn good time trying.

Until next time.....

Nomads with data plans... week 2

We made it to Moron (there is an umlaut there, and multiple spellings depending an where you look). We are over 500 miles (840ish k) into this wild adventure.

The familiar grind of daily travel, the joy of the occasional hot shower, the feel of that clean pair of underwear or socks you were saving for the end of the week, the old aches and pains that remind you of past adventures and mishaps coming back to haunt you (but you never mind too much because they take you back to an old memory), we have left the vacation and the journey has really begun. This adventure, although shorter than my previous long distance endurance fest the PCT, pre "Wild" and 8 million people and their mother on the trail, is far more committing. We are in Mongolia, on bicycles, subject to whatever comes our way with a significant language barrier. All at once scary, enthralling, hard, cathartic, and meditative, this has thus far proven to be one of the harder things I have done. I am glad I am not alone and that this country is so welcoming to strangers. Without the curiosity and the hospitality of the people we, I, would be lost.

Before I left I was gifted a book by a friend in Bishop. "The Way of the World" by Nicholas Bouvier. It is an enthralling read that exemplifies all that is traveling. Although it chronicles a much different journey in a much different time it is still very relateable. One particularly pithy quote struck me.

"Traveling provides occasions for shaking oneself up but not, as people believe, freedom. Indeed it involves a kind of reduction: deprived of one's usual setting, the customary routine stripped away like so much wrapping paper, the traveller finds himself reduced to more modest proportions - but also more open the curiosity, to intuition, to love at first sight."

Good words to live by!

The Ger we stayed at with B and Family. An amazing

experience!

Back to the happenings! This week we covered roughly 340K through varying terrain. Did and lot of climbing, a lot of descending, saw some trees, water, vallies, rain, and blistering sun. We covered 110k in a single day, took an unexpected rest day next to a creek due to the "Gobi stomach flu" I luckily managed to avoid that. B, our Mongolian friend said maybe I have a strong stomach, like the wolf, I hope! Everything started with an amazing few days spent with B's family. After resting in Erdenet for a few days we were lucky enough to be invited to the family "ranch" as it were outside of Bulgan. This is where B's parents and her extended family has been spending summers in there Ger for years. See goat picture above. We also had most of our stuff driven there and had the opportunity to ride unloaded bikes the 65k to get there. AWESOME!

Once there we were treated to the most amazing hospitality I have ever experienced. We were fed amazing food, welcomed into their homes and family life, and looked after in every way! 

Tsuivan. A traditional Mongolian Dish.

The family was wonderful. They showed us how they heat their ger, with a dung fire in a small iron stove, how to make traditional yogurt, how they then dried that yogurt to make snacks and store it, how the mares are milked to make Arok (a fermented traditional drink), and many many other things. We also had some great soccer games with the kids and good times hanging out! 

Milking the mares for Arok. Reminiscent of

kombucha and actually not all that bad!

Kyle mid Arok drink. It is a tradition to

offer it to guests and a sign of respect to accept with the

right hand left under the right elbow. Also offered the same way.

Hanging out inside a ger (yurt).

The kids loved the tents. Everyone else got a kick

out of them too! Asanga in the tent "helping".

After our time in the ger it was time to leave. Luckily the family wanted to hike a volcanic peak about 70k away and once again offered to slack pack us (hiking term for someone shuttling your gear) and we accepted! We cycled a pretty easy 70k, got lost, back tracked were found and then reunited with everyone for one last photo op. It turns out we passed the turn off and went a couple extra k but no big deal. When asking for water at a ger (people seem to be always willing to help) we were given fresh AAruul (the dried yogurt) and fresh butter. It was amazing. And went looking for our gear and friends. The bikes were light so no big deal.

The whole family. Asanga was camera shy this day.

A yak. Seen from the road.

Picture from the road that day.

We continued on the next day and had a great and easy 80+k thanks to a rare tail wind. We stopped at a stream in the shade, then came the sickness. Kyle wasn't feeling well and had gotten a stomach bug. I managed to avoid it thank goodness but it laid us up for a day. The rest day was nice but it was hard to not move, especially with a tail wind all day. I read a lot and we chilled. We were also visited and ignored by herders going about their business, people filling water from the creek, and plenty of live stock.

Spent some time with these guys on our impromptu

rest day.

After the sickness had subsided we hit the road once again. We even had a tailwind and an easy 110 k came that day. It was good cycling, good scenery and things were going great. We would make Moron the next day! We hit our campsite, tired but feeling good. The winds picked up but weren't that bad. We did however share our space with some of the biggest, and loudest grasshoppers I have ever seen. These caused some sleep issues along with the heat. 

From the road.

One of our, more quiet, neighbors at the camp after 110k.

One of the less quiet ones.

Leaving the next morning for Moron we were greeted with a head wind and the threat of rain. The clouds kept things cool. The wind kept things slow, and the rain never got bad. It was a long 85+ to town but we made it. En route we met a Turkish couple who had driven from Turkey and an Italian guy on a motor cycle. The Turkish couple didn't speak english but we had a photo op and exchanged pleasantries as best we could. The Italian guy was great! He spoke great english and was excited to talk to us.

A new friend!

Then we made it! To Moron, in the weather, and in time to get a guest house room and a huge dinner. We nursed our tired limbs, celebrated the 4th with a few beers, and relaxed. We even met another cyclist, a rather cantankerous old Australian guy who pontificated about life to us. We launch for Kovsgal Nuur (lake) today sometime. We will then catch the Nadaam festival somewhere and take in some traditional Mongolian party. So far so good. 

Oh yeah, to explain the title. Everyone here is very well connected. SIM cards with data are ridiculously cheap, about $12 for 5 gigs of data, and it is all pay as you go. Everyone seems to have a facebook page and a cell phone but still many people prefer to live a more traditional life. People in the cities still spend summers in gers, still maintain herds of animals, and produce and eat traditional foods. It is a crazy mix of old and new. You can see the westernization of somethings (like the shitty American hip hop you can hear from our hostel room right now) but many other things remain the same as they have been for generations. The horsemen/women are amazing, the food is still made the traditional way, and even with solar panels and satellite t.v.'s gers are still inhabited in the same way and the nomadic lifestyle still lives on strong. It is a pretty interesting and crazy thing to witness. I hope that tradition still stays strong here because it is a beautiful thing.

I think I can get used to this cycle touring thing. The familiar strong scent of dung fires is starting to be comforting, it means people. The reality of being kept awake by the sour smell of my own stink after 6 days and hundred of miles is starting to get easy again. The daily soreness, and the nomadic life. It is all coming back to me, but this time I am on a bike rather than just my feet. We shall see what the next 2 months brings. 

Stay tuned for more! I hope you are all well!