The Gobi: Ikh Gazrin Chuluu to Baga Gazrin Chuluu

After a sleepless night due to the wind, the wind is a bit kinder this morning and not blowing a gale so the riding on Gobi tracks is a bit easier, but still challenging with banks of small gravel and sand. Initial going is slow and we leave behind the amazing rock formations of Ikh Gazrin Chuluu and continue west. After 30 kilometres or so the tracks harden up and we set a good pace into the first major town, Mandalgov. Mandalgov is one of the best maintained towns we have seen with well looked after gardens and relatively nice buildings. We stop at The Gobi Hotel for lunch and find that as usual, there is only one meal available from a menu of 10 meals. After lunch we head north out of town with our GPS set for the rock formations at Baga Gazrin Chuluu. The rock formations appear in the distance across a sea of green grassy plains...the Gobi is turning green again the further north we ride. After dipping into shallow valleys and crossing small hills we arrive at the rock formations and search for a camp. There are many grassy places for camp hidden among the rocks and we find a secluded spot to pitch the tent. This place is amazing and the landscape is dominated by the rocky and mountainous peak of Baga Gazrin Chuluu. There are vultures circling the ramparts of the peak and we see occasional heards of goats walking precariously on the rock formations. We eat some pasta and go to sleep looking forward to a well-earned rest day tomorrow.

The Gobi: desert camp near Choir to Ikh Gazriin Chuluu

We start the morning in the shade thanks to our bunker hole and ride the last stretch of paved road to Choir. This town is like many other Mongolian towns, dusty, not attractive and a maze of roads. We turn west at Choir and stop outside a fire station that happens to be the best looked after place in the entire town. The firefighters appear in crisp clean uniforms and one of them even speaks english! We ask directions to our first waypoint town, Gov-Ugtal, and ride into the desert on a gravelly track with a completely featureless and barren horizon in front of us. As we leave Choir the wind starts to strengthen from the north provided a challenging crosswind that causes havoc with my riding later in the day. The tracks are initially fast and easy to navigate. We past lonely ger camps and abandoned buildings of long forgotten settlements. Surprisingly the air temperature is cold and and we need to zip up all vents on the enduro suits to keep warm. After about 3 hours riding we reach Gov-Ugtal which is hidden amongst sandy hills. The desert is getting a little greener now and we see herds of goats and horses. As usual a renter-crowd of locals swarms on Matt to check out the bikes as I am searching for food. We are pretty good now at saying 'Yamaha is good bike' and 'no you can't buy my bike' through hand gestures and broken english. I find no places to eat, so we are reduced once again to buying a jar of pickles and eating these with biscuits while watching goats snack on other green edible things in the distance. The pickles tasted all right. The wind was really getting strong now and blowing a gale. From Gov-Ugtal we rode to Ikh Gazriin Chuluu, a small range of granite rock formations to the southwest. On this stretch we had the most challenging riding yet. Tracks were sand or a thick layer of pea sized gravel which made handling the bike at any speed perilous. Add to this the gale-force cross wind that we were fighting against and it was lucky if we actually stayed on the track. At one point a dust devil crossed the track into the path of Matt's bike and pushed him into the sand and shrubs off the track. While crossing a section of loose gravel, a gust of wind swept my front tyre from under me and the bike and I spun 360 degrees to a stop in a pall of dust. Luckily no damage or injury thanks to my padded knees and I continue on a little shaken up and riding slowly. Thankfully we eventually see the rock formations of Ikh Gazriin Chuluu in the distance and breath a sigh of relief. We find our ger camp for the night without trouble and have a good meal before wandering to explore the rocks. The place is fascinating and a perfect spot to see the sunset over the desert. We head to bed exhausted and sleep restlessly to the sound of the wind. Alan.

The Gobi: Ulaanbataar to desert camp near Choir

After another relaxing mini-holiday at Oasis during the heaviest rain we have seen in Mongolia, we loaded up the bikes in sunshine and steered south towards the Gobi desert after a lunch of spaghetti bolognese. Our plan was to get a taste of the Gobi by riding a six day loop. The ride out of Ulaanbaatar first took us east and then south. Slowly the country changed from green hills to green plains to brown featureless plains. The riding was easy as there is a paved road all the way to the point at which we turn west, Choir. We also had a strong tailwind which made the journey a bit quieter on the ears as a buffeting wind can sound like a steam train in the motorcross helmets. About 20km short of Choir we stopped in to look at an old abandoned Soviet air force base just off the road and in the middle of nowhere. The base is complete with abandoned apartment blocks used to house hundreds of people, an old MIG fighter plane on a pole, abandoned hangers and lots of derelict buildings. We have a look around and get some photos. Some Mongolian families have set up house in the ruins and eye us off carefully as we poke around. We ride towards the abandoned hangers in the distance and are followed by a Mongolian on a motorbike with a little girl who warns us off lingering too long. Not the friendliest welcome, but Matt gives the little girl a toy koala to try and break the ice to no avail. We decide to ride on and find a spot for camp amongst the endless flat plains. Our idea is to find somewhere out of sight off the main road and railway line that we have been following all day, but this proves to be a little difficult due to lack of anything bigger than a large rock to camp behind. We spot a hill about two kilometers past the old air force base and look around there in the process finding an old Soviet bunker. We are tempted to explore inside, but goats have beaten us to it and left and thick trail of droppings into the dark depths of the bunker. We look around a bit more and find a huge hole near the bunker that was used as the source of soil to cover it. Thanks to the Soviets we had a perfect place to camp in the base of this hole out of site of anyone. We have a dinner of pasta and fall asleep to the sound of half-hourly coal trains on the train line and the occasional truck rumbling by. Alan.

Return to Ulaan Baatar, again.

Today is a pretty smooth run but Alan cops a rock on the tip of his boot and jars his big toe and second toe badly. We are initially worried that he has broken something, but nothing swells and after he gets over the shock we are riding again. He will lose his second toenail though. When we reach the sweet kiss of ashphalt all is well and we cruise into some of the worst traffic we have encountered in Ulaan Baatar. A couple of days of rest is in order. We have done 3500km so far.

Forest camp to camp 200km west of U.B

As seems to be the way, I did not sleep well from strange animal noises and Alan was comatose. The insects are out to play tagteam again for breakfast (i have never been bitten by such a biodiverse population of insects and we both look like we have leprosy or something) and we feast on an array of black tea and bland buscuits. We reach Bulgan city by 11am and for some reason this city doesnt feel dreary like a lot of other Mongolian towns. We like it. We stop to use the internet, buy a phonecard and find somewhere to lunch. There are a lot of very pretty Mongolian girls in this town. We head south then south east along an earth road along some more broad valleys. The wind is hot. Sometimes there are big ditches running at right angles across the track in one particular section which can be terrifying because you done see them till the last minute. I rode straight over one which i think i must have been going fast enough to skim across the top because i only managed to plow my back wheel into it and bottom out but stay on the bike. Alan shares the same joy behind. We climb a pass then descend into another valley and there are a couple of trucks ahead of us. Trucks are bad and play with my mind. They kick up stupendous amounts of dust and are diffucult and dangerous to pass so we try to avoid them. I was behind one today and i found myself imagining the driver laughing hysterically and screaming "..try pass you fool!!" like a madman and steering his truck here and there to make all the more dust and make this situation more dangerous. This is of course not correct and is probably part of my own madness from having my brain shaken by corrugations and rocks all day and i think Alan will understand my madness. I still find myself angry when i am behind a truck getting drenched in dust and feel like i have 'given it to the man' if i do eventually get past him. We get beaten by the trucks however (i'll bide my time) and make camp up a small valley out of sight in the arid landscape. The sunset is brilliant from the top of a nearby hill. We smell very bad.

Ikh-Uul to camp 40km west of Bulgan city

Today we decided to head off the main track so we dont have to ride the same road twice. We got away fairly early, waving to our Mongolian friends, one of which was throwing up on the ground to send us off (perhaps a gesture of good luck??) and made for the floating bridge upstream of where we were camping. It looked like an old military instant bridge that can be constructed quickly and had a small camp of gers next to the river. The bridgemaster (as i like to refer to him) was an interesting fellow. A man of little words, an iron stare and a bleeding lip, like he had drunk too much and got into a fight the night before. He eyed us intensely and looked us up and down for a long while. Finally he declares he wants 500 tugruks each to pass. Alan doesn't like his look and slams the 1000 tugrik note on the bikes front rack in defiance so that he doesn't have to hand it to him...i nearly chuckle. We pass and ascend the steepest pass we have been over so far. With all the weight on the back of our bikes i feel like the front wheel is going to lift over my head so you have to lean forward up the steep hill to keep it all balanced. I had to use first gear on this hill....which is surprising because first gear is walking pace on these little 100's. The pass would be impossible in the wet. We passed through the town of Rashant, dusty and western style like the others. A guy comes up and says hello in Mongolian (Sain-bainuu) and i am pleased because i know how to say the equivalent of 'fine, how are you back'. The conversation stops quickly however and we revert to mumble point. After some confusion as to which direction to go (this happens regularly taking back tracks) we find ourselves riding south on an immensely broad valley and looking for a track heading east up another smaller valley to a pass. We take what looks like to be a minor track and head east and thankfully find the pass we are looking for. There is always more than 1 option of track in this country and part of the knack of navigating is learning that as long as you are heading in the right direction you will probably arrive where you want to be, abeit from a different way. It looks like we are riding into a big storm and the wind goes cool and you can smell wet soil and grass on the breeze. I see a beaver looking creature emerge from a hole and regard my most colour co-ordinated riding gear then dissappear underground unimpressed by my fading cordura. We pass a small monastary that looks stuck in the middle of nowhere and we stop to regard where it is framed and the timelessness of the landscape. We eventually hit a section of road that we rode on the way to Khovsgol which is quite bad, dusty and rough. We make camp in a place we have camped before in a dense forrest of conifers with a dense blanket of patchwork grasses and flowers, and an insect population that likes to play tagteam attacking your flesh while you try to make dinner with an insect net stuck over your head.

Lake Khovsgol to camp near Ikh--Uul

We ride back to Moron the same way we came. We are lucky with the weather as you cross dry river beds several times on the way back. On this northern route it is possible to get stuck if it rains too much, and a Scottish women we met had done so last year when the dry river beds ceased to be dry. We lunch again in Moron and i have peppers in my meal of meat...ahh sweet vegetable! We havn't really had any bad food in Mongolia (apart from bad food we have cooked or lunched on) but its just very simple food. We make good progress from Moron west, but i manage to pick up a nail in my rear tyre going over a pass, and it is a good 10cm long. It kindly puts multiple holes in my tyre and tube and goes flat instantly. We remove the tyre and repair the tube but just like last time it goes down about 100m down the road. Repairing flats can be frustrating because there is a lack of shade in this country and the sun is very hot! We remove the tube again, repatch and replace. It goes down again. Arghhh! There is a leak we just cant find in the tube. I bought spare tubes at the black market but they are Russian and not the right size (best we could do). We have to file the valve and cut the edges with a knife to make it fit the rim. over 2hours later and we are back on the road, but not after a couple of Mongolians stopped to play mumble point with us before leaving. We find a camp 27km before Ikh-Uul on a large river. And this brings me to a perculiar Mongolian habit that we have encountered before. The plains are vast, space along the river aplenty and we feel remote. However a car appears in the distance and heads right for us. They pull up right next to us and set camp. Mongolian families like to do this which can be both good (as in our experience at the Great White Lake) or a curse (as in this case when we are tired, irritated and feel like being left alone). It humours me now though, because they got drunk and a women was wailing and singing through the night preventing sleep. Alan has however revealed a most remarkable capacity to render himself comatose through these occassions and i stay awake all night. Remarkable. We are however, treated to an amazing full moon and clear sky which leaves an impression on you like no where else i have been.

Khovsgol Nuur

After feeding up at the rather unfortunately named town of Moron, another soviet style scruffy capital that has a reputation for roughness, we hit the road for Khovsgol Nuur which was a 90km stretch to the town at its outflowing river, Khatgal. We had a very long lunch and spent a bit of time stuffing around trying to find internet, then ran into a couple of bikers heading the same direction. We didn't get away till late afternoon and a storm was brewing and heading our way. We were fortunate that the road was mostly good to Khatgal and managed to make the trip in about 2 hours. I feel a deep sense of satisfaction encountering anything that does not resemble a pothole bound, rutted, uneven road that does not have sand or ditches that run across the track that jump out at you and bottom your suspension so hard you feel like your helmet is going to fly off your head and something like an involuntary smile as your cheeks head sky high. We raced the storm to Khatgal but managed to avoid getting wet and proceeded further up the lake to find a Ger camp to stay in so we can avoid each others smell, at least for one night. This is, apparently, the busiest tourist attraction in the country, but i think perhaps we only saw 2 or 3 cars on the way here. There are no signs pointing where to go and the maps show tracks where there are none (ie we tried to ride the track beside the lake to reach the Ger camp we wanted to go to but ended up on a goat track on the side of a hill in a forest. Hmm. We stay at a ger camp nearest to us as we are tired and couldn't be bothered trying to find the track to the one we wanto stay at. This is ok though as it is perched on the very edge of the lake and has beds, which is our main concern. Mongolia is much like my Nepal experience. You often have menus with numerous listing of foods to be consumed, but in actual reality, there is only one dish available. Mutton noodle soup again? Likely. The next morning we get up and and wanto try for some brunch before leaving to find the road we want. The lady who can speak english in the camp asks the cook if he can cook us something..i think the response is somewhere along the lines of "No". We decide to leave. Khovsgol is a stark contrast to the rest of Mongolia. Firstly there are trees...lots and lots of them, water...lots and lots of it, and it is cold! After some frustration finding the track we need to take, we head back to Khatgal and take a road over a pass to find the place we wanto stay 15km up the lake. The lake is crystal clear with rocky shores, gulls and surrounded by trees with an intensity of green i am not used to. It is beautiful! We stay for a further two nights and generally just vegetate which is just what we want after over 1000km of riding to get here. Alan tried his best to light the Ger on fire by lighting the small stove with petrol as there was a particularly cold, wet night and Alan felt a cold coming on. This was good for him as he slept like he was in a coma and was good the next day, but i spent some of the night sitting in the ger entrance in my undies trying to avoid the furnace that he created. We have seen some most excellent lightning here as there are storms daily. The darkness at night is hard to describe. We wandered up to talk to some Polish tourists and walked back in the dark using the lightning to find our way back to camp. There are no lights here. None. Mongolia had racked up two medals while we were here and there was a celebration of a group and they were drinking vodka made of fermented mares milk. I tried some and i think the petrol tasted better that i used to syphon from dads kombi van for my motorbike when i was a teenager. It tasted (as i imagine) what a horse would taste like if you ground it up whole into a paste. Gross, but that is what i imagine. >>Matt

On the road to Khovsgol Nuur

A few quick words while we have a break in Moron on our way to the biggest lake in Mongolia, Khovsgol Nuur. We have both recovered from our sickness in Ulaanbataar. We had to spend an extra day there recovering, but it worked out well as there were some interesting people to chat to at Oasis. Today is day 5 of our journey to the lake. It has been long and rough, although very scenic. We have had one flat tyre so we have successfully repaired the rear tyre of my bike. We have visited a remote buddhist monastery and ridden past the industrial centre of Mongolia with lots of smoke-billowing soviet style factories. Otherwise all is going well except for sore backsides and tired minds after some 200km+ days of concentrating. Thankfully I can post a few pics this time as the camera is all functional again.

Missing photos

Unfortunately we were not able to retrieve our 150 or so photos and video we took from our memory card for this loop. Its gone, corrupted. Never the less we will surely get some more great photos on our next loop to Khovsgol Nuur which should be another 2000km of pothole joy and awsome scenery. We depart tomorrow as we both got up in the night and threw up last night and are feeling a little sensitive today. Not sure what it was that we ate that did it. The bikes come back from servicing and they resprayed the bloody things! We thought we had new bikes again...thats what i call a service!

Lun to Ulan Bataar- Last day of loop 1

Just like every morning, we both wake up with dead arms as the tent is quite small. Shortly after we rise a couple of Mongolians herding sheep on a motorcycle pull up. We do the usual pointing and mumbling game at each others bikes and when content stand in silence. They invite Alan and me back to their Ger so we pack up and head down to two Gers in the distance. On arrival we get invited inside one of the Gers and sitdown (i think we got the place of honour in the ger..sweet!) trying to remember our ger etiquette. The whole family filters in, 4 women, 4 men and 3 kids and sit and watch us eat pieces of goat, Aarag (fermented mares milk), salt milk tea, Mares milk cheese, bread, a lolly and a bowl of tomato sauce! This is far too much for us to eat as we have had breakfast and our appetites have been diminishing with the heat and fatigue. We try to taste everything though, but not too much Aarag as it whispered '...regret' when i sipped. I listened and drank all the salt tea as this is pretty good and leaves the stomach in tact. I pulled out the polaroid camera and spent a whole film taking family portraits...the polaroid is the ultimate friends maker. After a short while we gestured to depart as we were keen to get back to Ulan Bataar for a shower. We both very much appreciated being invited in by the family...it was quite a special experience for both of us and was a great opportunity to see how people live over here. After a couple of hours of riding alonag the usual snaking off road trails we arrive back in Ulan Bataar and negotiate the traffic to the guest house on the other side of the city. Although we are getting used to riding on the right hand side of the road in crazy traffic i still dont much like riding around Ulan Bataar and we usually take taxis when we are staying at the guest house. Here are some tips for riding in traffic here:
1. Use your horn. LOTS. All the time..dont assume anyone sees you, toot them anyway,..hell toot just for the sake of tooting, its fun! Its not like Australia, ...using your horn doesn't cause the occupant of the other car to hop out and beat you with a crowbar.
2. Dont drive in the traffic here. If you have to see tip 1.

Tomorrow we put our bikes in for a service. Probably stay here a couple of days to rest up and psych up for the next loop.

Ugii Nuur to camp near Lun

Today we rode over 200km to camp within a half day ride of Ulan Bataar. Track conditions were very variable today ranging from freshly graded track to shocking potholes, wonky bridges, deep sand and pavement. We passed some ruins of a 7th century city, and although degraded, significant sections remained of two structures and what looked like a watchtower. There was a small museum about the size of my bedroom with a plump Mongolian sitting at the doorway asking 2000 tugriks. His snuff bottle was the best i've seen in the whole country, a jade colour and intricately carved. I sniffed it. It was good. There wasn't too much to see here so we moved on, and hit some deep sand on the way to the next town. I dropped my bike after hitting a deep patch and nearly fell off several other times....a bugger of a track. We stopped to lunch at another small western style town and found a small restaurant. After some amount of sign language and gesticulating we managed to order a dish of which we had no idea. It turns out to be noodle mutton soup with broth. It was nice but didn't go down well as we had a mega breakfast that morning at Ugii Nuur of meat pancakes. After after trying to chat to the town drunk, we paid up and went to the local 'supermarket' to grab some warm lemonades. A 4wd pulls up and a bunch of drunk Mongolian guys pile out to stock up on booze and vigorously shake our hands. One guy is huge and has a gut to be admired and feared. Another guy on a bike pulls up and does the usual point and mumble routine at the various parts on my Yamaha. I decide to get in the spirit of things and point and mumble at various parts of his bike while Alan gets the lemonades. After lots of pointing and mumbling and head shakes he leaves and we are both content. To our relief we find paved road shortly after the town and resume our maximum cruising speeds of 60-70km/hr on our beasty 100's. I just cant explain how good it feels to find paved road and drive on it in this country after you have been driving on crappy tracks for over 1000km. I also cant explain how bad it feels when this road only lasts 10km then dissappears again, which it did! We arrive at Lun to fill up on water and find camp but do neither because there is nowhere secluded to camp and there are hundreds of horses stirring up the river water and crapping in it. We buy water and find camp some kilometres on the other side of town. We camp a kilometre off the main track up in the hills. >>Matt

Ugii Nuur

Today we had just a short distance of 30km to ride to Ugii Nuur. The track was a mix of gravel, sand, rock, more gravel and more sand. We are getting pretty good at dealing with a variety of track surfaces, but the deep sand is still a bit tricky to ride through. The technique is easy to understand...constant accelerator and steer with the handlebars, not your weight. Its not that easy in practice though and we are still learning. We arrived at Ugii Nuur which looked beautiful from the track and started looking for a place for lunch. There are a few tourist ger camps along the lake edge and we stop at one and ask if they are serving food. They say yes and lead us into a huge ger that contains a very tidy and nice restuarant. We have lunch and have broken conversation with the girl serving and an old man who wanders in. The place is so nice that we ask if there is a ger available for the night and we end up staying there. The beds a very comfy and a nice alternative to elbow wrestling in the tent. We spend the afternoon getting tanned and sunburnt while reclined in russian style banana lounges (Russian style in that they are very mechanical), reading, walking along the lake edge and going for a swim. The lake water is perfect temperature and very fresh. We share the entire camp with two other europeans who arrive a bit later and have a relaxing night in preparation for some big distance tomorrow. Alan.

Ikh Tamir to just short of Ugii Nuur

After a fantastic night camping amongst trees by a river perfect for swimming and skimming rocks on, we packed up camp and began the first extended off-main track section of our return to Ulaanbataar. Our first destination was Battsengel and the farm tracks were well defined, hard packed and fast. We covered the first 60 kilometres with no troubles and found that our GPS tracks were almost perfectly matching the real life tracks making navigation easy and allowing plenty of time to look at the passing grassland land and river plains and distant hill. We negotiated a couple of river crossings and opened all the vents on our fantastic BMW enduro suits (the best motorbike purchase ever) as the day started to heat up. At one point in the middle of nowwhere we pass a Nissan GTS Turbo Skyline blocking the track and precariously perched on the lip of a steep slope with nobody to be seen. Some duffer must have driven this low slung sports car to this point and then realised 'maybe it isn't a 4WD after all'. We eventually crossed a pass and could see Battsengel spread out in the distance on a river plain below us. Battsengel was a true western style Mongol town with a dusty main street and a strong hot wind blowing. People in heavy leather boots and cowboy style hats lingered around and eyed us curiously. We couldn't find a restuarant so settled for a lunch of bread, pickled cucumbers, cheese and margarine. Now I thought I purchased cheese from the local shop, but I actually bought a very large block of butter, so no cheese. That block of butter plagued us for the rest of our journey and eventually melted in Matts pannier and covered all of his treasured belongings. So no more cheese purchases unless I taste test first to ensure it is cheese. We made some calls home in Battsengel and rode on towards our next destination, a lake called Ugii Nuur. With the day coming to a close and our concentration starting the waver, we pulled of the track and rode towards some distant trees beside a river we had been following most of the day. The wind was howling and we tried to find some shelter amongst the trees and found a perfect camp beside the river with an impressive view across the river plain to a very flat horizon. After dinner and a swim we were almost ready for bed, but could hear the thunderous roar of a big group of horses in the distant darkness. They all crossed the river and out of the night a Mongolian on a horse with a big stick rode towards us, stopped and silently watched us, which was a big freaky. We said 'hello' in Mongolian, he grunted and left. Very strange. We slept well though. Alan.

The White Lake to Ikh Tamir

After our Marmot liver breakfast we left the lake and backtracked our way about 100km towards Ikh Tamir. Our original plan was to veer off the main track to follow minor tracks north of the route we took here. A problem with navigating here is that some tracks on our GPS are not there, some tracks that are there are not on our GPS and the same goes for the map we have. We were looking for the right valley to head east to our destination but it took us a while to realise we were a couple of kilometres off the track on a minor road. People make their own roads as the main ones deteriorate so the 'main' track may be spread across an area of a few kilometres being a conglomerate of many tracks rather than one. Because there are no fences anywhere, we just head in the direction we think we need to go and find a valley we think we should go up. As we follow it up there are winter stock shelters that are used to keep the stock alive during the -30 degree winters. The track disappears into nothing and we are riding through long grass and rocks again. We were trying to find a pass over the mountains but we just couldn't find any easy way even to get our little bikes over the range. Backtrack. Try another valley, but still no luck and its starting to rain and there is thunder and lightning around us. We gave up and cut overland towards the direction of the main track(s) i have just described. Once we find the track Alan realises that his rear luggage carrier has snapped in half near the supporting bolt causing his bike to bottom out badly all the time. We have tools but no spare bolts...hmm a bit of a problem as its very hard to ride like this and its quite a distance to the next town. As things seem to happen when you are stuck like this, a 4wd that is part of the Peking challenge (a fundraising rally that is travelling from Amsterdam to Beijing) pulls up and they have a bolt that fits perfectly. They have had a worse day then us as two of their group have rolled 4wd's in Mongolia so far, one just today. The occupants are ok though. We motor for Ikh Tamir after refitting the lost bolts, but will need to get the rack welded at some point. We didn't plan to stay at Ikh Tamir but it proved well, as we found a great secluded camping spot in some trees next to the river which was very beautiful. I wish i had my fishing rod because the spot reminds me of the Kiewa river in Mt Beauty (Unca Dave you would have appreciated this spot). >>Matt

Rest day at the Great White Lake

Today we had a much needed rest day at the Great White Lake (Terkhun Tsagaan Nuur) which is one of the most beautiful lakes in the country. The area is teeming with life with various birds and eagles, and amazing aray of insects and a lake full of fish (but we had no fishing rods). Swimming is good with several beaches very popular with the locals. We spent most of the time avoiding the sun because any exposed flesh was scorched as the lake is above 2000m and the sun is very strong. The landscape is a result of past volcanic activity. On our way in we pass what looks like a coal seem in the road. I think there is a bit of black coal in Mongolia as we had come across small mines and seems elsewhere. Its strange to see large gulls at the lake that is so far inland...the sounds of the sea at an inland lake. Later during the day a Mongolian family of about 12 rock up and set camp next to us (this is common here....there is space a plenty but they will camp or park right next to you). One of the older guys and a younger man know how to speak a little english and are keen to quiz us on a number of things. They are driving an old Russian Jeep with a trailor and carry two full little Mongolian style potbellies and use dung to cook their food (but only after a snack of marmot when they arrive). The next morning i get the polaroid camera out and take a couple of shots of their family. The Polaroid has proved a most excellent icebreaker. After a couple of shots they came over and gave us freshly picked blue berries with sugar, bread made from locally picked flowers and some Marmot liver. This was funny because we were breakfasting on porridge with sultanas and apple. We tried some Marmot liver and the older man tried some porridge. We both grimaced, smiling at each other going '..Mmmmmmm!' trying to be polite. That liver upset up both our stomachs for the day. We have got some great photos however our memory card has become corrupted and we have lost two weeks of photos which is a real shame. We are trying to find software to recover the files so fingers crossed. >>Matt

Tsetserleg to the White Lake

Ok, we have internet again...its been in short supply where we have been. Today was a big day of riding for us. 200 km on terrible roads to a beautiful destination. Much of the main track is blocked off pending 'road' improvement, which is probably a good thing because the main roads are often the worst roads. We stuck to side tracks which snake here and there within a kilometre of the main track. Today was a little like riding a paint mixer and our sheepskin covers which we scored off a group of Australians driving through Mongolia did little to ease our sore bums. The surprising thing is watching small two wheel drive cars packed with up to 10 Mongols negotiate these tracks (and there are many cars, and tracks). Second hand, low kilometre Japanese cars come to Mongolia to be systematically destroyed by the terrible roads and countless occupants. This country has many contrasts however. As you drive through rundown towns and degraded tracks, you are passed by many brand new turbo diesel Land Cruisers and the like, most of which are owned by Mongols. We stopped at a spectacular gorge en route just before Teriat, but we are both so pulverised by the vibration we find it hard to enjoy the site. We get some good pics and sit apart for a while so we dont bite each others heads off. Shortly after we stop at a rise piled with large rocks to survey where we have come from. We feel extremely remote as you can see for up to 100km in all directions, but on closer inspection you can see familiar gers dotting the landscape, occupying the distant valleys. We finally arrive at Teriat, a western looking town with dusty streets and locals eyeing you as you ride through. We miss the bridge that crosses the river and heads for the lake so spend an hour riding in circles. Once we find camp though it is spectacular...a volcanic lake surrounded by rolling hills and trees! We make camp next to a couple of Mongol families and try to slow our brains after a day of intense concentration trying not to crash our bikes. >>Matt