Of camels and glaciers

Western Mongolia is a totally different animal. The mountains are big, the people are different, the landscape is varied, and it has a totally different feeling. Since leaving Ulaangom nearly 10 days ago we have seen glaciers, camels, large rushing rivers, desert basins, and everything in between. The populations are also much more varied. Here there is a large Kazakh population along with several other ethnic minorities. The Khovd Provence is said to be the most ethnically diverse in all of Mongolia. What this means is several different languages and dialects are spoken, Buddhist and shamanistic tradition begin to mix with Islamic elements, Mosques begin to appear, and the food is slightly different (though not much). I have to say I like it. Maybe it is the mountains or just the fact that after 5 weeks I am finally in the groove. I will chalk it up to the mountains however. 

After leaving Ulaangom we were greeted with a welcome 36km of paved road. The longest stretch we had seen in a long , long time. It went quickly and was punctuated by the usual inquisitive locals. Then came our first taste of the true challenge of the northern route. The sand and the desert was hard, more annoying and slow, but manageable easily enough. The high, and steep, passes would prove to be a bigger challenge. Ahead of us was Ulaan Dava. At almost 3000m it isn't that big by my normal Eastern Sierra standards but riding a fully loaded bike up the thing in the heat is a different kind of challenge. It involved some significant pushing but luckily it was approached by a graded road awaiting paving.

The Ovoo atop Ulaan Dava. Here we were the subject

of much interest to the locals and luckily a vacationing

group also thought we looked like we needed some beer. This is

also on the edge of some protected areas and national parks. It has a great 

view.

After Ulaan Dava it was a great, and easy, ride to our camp which offered our first good view of some distance glaciers. Promise of spectacular scenery to come.

However we first needed to cross the valley containing Ureg Nuur, a salt lake similar to Uvs Nuur but smaller. This valley was hot, large and relatively waterless with the exception of a stream. We needed the water so it was a welcome reprieve, we also were offered some vodka shots by a passing traveler. Also of interest is we ran into some other travelers from the hostel in Ulaangom. It turns out we would run into them several more times, along with the family they had hitched with, before the next town. While traveling through the valley we were rewarded with some interesting archeology. There were many grave mounds and some standing stones but most interesting were carved "man stones". These may be remains of graves of Turkish origins, or ancient tribal societies but good info is hard to find. Who passed this way and who is buried here? How many hundreds, or thousands, of years have these stone faces seen? All these thoughts crossed my mind while contemplating their silence as they gaze across the steppe.

Fascinating!

Directly after this came the big pass! This by far has been the largest slog we have had. It took somewhere between 2 and 3 hours to push up this thing. Once again this is the "main" route between Ulaangom and Olgii. It was a slog of relatively epic proportions but we made it none the less and it was mostly down hill from there. And by down hill I mean down hill to a coal mining town with a "Hills have eyes" feeling. We got out of there and made for Atchet Nuur, a large fresh water lake with a terribly mosquito infested campsite in between. We were hoping for a swim and some time to relax at the lake but the weather had other plans. After once again running into the couple from the Ulaangom hostel, and the family that had temporarily adopted them, the skies opened up. Hail, thunder, and lightning came with a vengeance and we had no choice but to ride as fast as we could to get out of the danger zone. We made it through, a little soggy but fine, and to the lake. Unfortunately it was also mosquito infested and the storm seemed to be chasing us so we booked it! On and on we rode following a river and finally made it to camp. A large gorge. The river, as it turned out, was a fast flowing glacially fed torrent. It made for great camping but silty water requiring a filter clean.

The big hill. That dot in the distance is me.

Hail and the muddy aftermath of the squall.

A spectacular gorge that served as our camp that night.

You can't see it but there is a large and fast flowing

river in there and a surprisingly well graded road.

Then!!!! we finally made it into Olgii and took a few much deserved rest days. Olgii a is launching point for travelers heading into the mountains so we had the opportunity to meet other travelers and check out a totally different feeling area. Bayan Olgii, the Provence, has a majority Kazakh population. This means mosques and minarets begin to appear. It was a welcome and interesting change. The town of Olgii itself was great too. It had a city feel but was ultimately laid back and pretty modern and diverse. I like it. While there aside from the usual weird rickety hotel/guest house stay we also visited the bazaar (actually called this here rather than the "black market" found elsewhere in Mongolia) and a "Turkish" restaurant (it was mainly a Mongolian take on Turkish food but a welcome change).

A Mosque in Olgii

Olgii

Kyle with a real life actual coffee

Turkish Coffee!!!!

Traditional instruments at the bazaar

After our rest we booked it for Khovd, our last big town before heading into China. Luckily we had almost 70km of pavement to enjoy before more mountain adventures. On our way we were lucky enough to meet Volkan, a Turkish guy who had started in Istanbul and was heading to Ulaanbataar. We spent a few days riding with him as he got used to Mongolian "roads". It was nice to ride with another cyclist for a bit and he is a great guy. I hope to see him either in Turkey or in the states in the future.

Kyle and Volkan.

Camp in the sight of glaciers.

After a brief town stop it was back into the mountains. But first we had to stop and take pictures with an eagle. Turns out a Kazakh eagle hunter was on his way back from an exhibition in Ulaanbataar and was napping next to his motorcycle with his eagle. He quickly awoke and let us take some pictures. He tried, rather half heatedly, to get some money but I think he was more surprised to see us on this road than anything. It was a large bird and looking it in the eyes from 16 inches away was quite the experience.

Volkan

Kyle

Me

We also met Dave. An American working for a Norwegian aid organization. Once we reached Khoved he lets us do laundry, use the Internet (I am writing this from his couch) and cook a meal at his place. Once again we would be no where without the generosity of strangers on this adventure. Thanks Dave!

The mountains were beautiful! Flanked by protected area and national park and the road remains decent and traverses some amazing high country dotted with Kazakh gers and glacial scenery. Windy and cool but wonderful riding made for a great day that proved to be easier then expected.

Kyle riding into the distance.

Gers and Glaciers

Volkan and a visitor we met on a pass.

Camels! There are glaciers in the distance to the left.

We are in the high mountains here so camels were a

surprise. 

Two large, 8 feet plus tall, carved standing stones encountered on the way

down from the pass. These are old, possible 5,000

years. Bronze and iron age remains of past cultures. Again, who was here

and why?

Then we met another cyclist!! Dragan, a Serbian who was on a 20,000km journey. He was carrying the most stuff I have ever seen on a bike or otherwise for a human powered endeavour. He was also using some pretty skinny tires. Despite his difficulties he was as happy as can be and having a great time. On his was to Ulaanbataar and onward to Russia and Japan he was just happily smiling his way across the country. Hopefully he can find some wider tires and lighten his load otherwise Mongolia holds some serious adventure for him!

We all camped at a wonderful spot along a creek and enjoyed a group breakfast before departing the next day.

Volkan, Dragan, and Kyle.

Moving on it was a relatively easy 80km to Khovd through some amazing valleys. Kyle, Volkan and myself made our way there happily listening to some tunes and enjoying the well graded, although sometimes wash boarded, road.

Khovd is an old city that has been a center of trade with China for centuries and once housed a military garrison when China brutally ruled Mongolia. Presumably revenge for the Mongol conquest. It is still pleasant all those years later. Very laid back, lined with trees, and very diverse. Aside from hanging out with Dave and finally getting some real laundry done it was pleasant to chill out and recharge before the final, supposedly paved, 350km-ish push to the border and other horizons.

Pleasant tree lined street in Khovd.

Monument to a past hero.

More Khovd.

We were also able, once again thanks to Dave, to find real jerky here! Surprisingly a rare thing in Mongolia. A very nice town stay so far.

Also while riding I have had more time to reflect on the death of my friend James and life in general. Like most kids I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up. The obvious answer is to never grow up and always find a reason to go outside and play. Unfortunately real life does catch up from time to time. James' death has really made me think about my path. I want to work hard and make a positive difference and living in comfort is nice but comfort lulls one into false security. Once you become risk adverse you miss opportunity. I was lulled into that security and safety before this trip and it took some serious and messy wrangling to get me out of that comfort zone. I, like so many others, held on to that comfort kicking and screaming and the break was much messier than it needed to be or should have been. Losing a friend, although older, who was so fit and full of life has kicked me in the proverbial balls and really made me think about what it is I want out of life. I am not sure if I will ever figure it out, have I found what I am looking for in Mongolia? As I prepare to leave and head into China I can confidently say "I have no idea what it is I am looking for anyway!". Mongolia has certainly been a land of extremes, highs and lows, hots and colds, and everything else. I have learned a lot and I imagine I will be sorting this out for years to come. At least I hope. Hopefully I can take these lessons with me.

Another thing that has made me think was an article that I recently read that has made the rounds on Facebook. Yes it is lame as fuck that I still check Facebook while here or have data at all so shut up I know it already (to be fair it is only in bigger towns). But this article, I think it was in Forbes or Business insider or something, was about a guy who works seasonally and bike tours the rest of the year. It was titled something along the lines of "This guy is bucking tradition for his own way" or something pedantic like that and the guy calls himself Super Romance or some such. I mean I did the trail name thing on the PCT but that name lives in the trail world. These kind of articles drive me crazy. On the one hand it exposes a whole group of people to a way of life they have only dreamed about. On the other it simply illustrates a lifestyle that thousands live. Maybe it is the rock climbing dirt bag culture but I know a lot of people that live like that, climbing or skiing or any number of adventure based things. Anyway back on track. These article make it sound like that is a lifestyle that is impossible to live. It's not. In reality the only reason "Super Romance" or most of us who choose to do it can is because we come from comfortable middle class backgrounds that allow us the freedom to do so. This is obviously not a hard and fast rule there are people of all demographics who choose the seasonal adventure lifestyle but mostly, in my experience, and certainly with Super Romance this is the case (admittedly so in the article). You can't keep your shit in your parents basement and then claim to live an independent fancy free life answering to no one but yourself and nature or whatever. But ultimately that is not the point. I am not special, Super Romance is not special, he simply made a choice to live that way just as I have made the choice to change my life and have this adventure. Just like all my friends living the seasonal adventure life have chosen to do so. Anyone can do it. Find a way to manage your debts and obligations, find an activity that you love, and go do it! Figure out a way to make it work and do it! I got caught up in the day to day. Even though I was making a real difference for the land and the people of the Eastern Sierra, and I am proud of that, I still got caught up. I forgot to live and started living to work. This is an American sickness. We need more, we need comfort, we think we need all kinds of shit. What we need is fun and adventure and positive actions. Live well and make a a difference. Work hard and play hard. Make a difference in someones' life, for the land, and your community, but never think the life you want is out of reach. I am terrible at taking my own advice and fail regularly, but this trip and James' death has brought this home. I could rant for days on this subject but here is the gist. Get out there and get after it! Work hard and passionately but don't forget to live! You only get one shot.

Until next time..... off to China!

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!