Gorgeous Kyrgyzstan

We did not know what to expect from Kyrgyzstan, but had high hopes, and it exceeded our expectations. From the isolated and quiet border post in the east to the massive, snow capped, mountains and their passes in the west.

Once we had rattled the 40 kilometres of good gravel road through the Karkara Valley, where every few kilometres there was honey for sale alongside the numerous bee hives, the road surface improved to unexpectedly smooth asphalt.

This enabled us to enjoy the view as we rode towards lake Issyk-kull. Which is the second largest saline lake after the Caspian sea.

The day was marred, though, when we realised it was the turn of my radiator to spring a leak. We threw in the last of our radiator sealant and topped up the coolant from the copious supply we are carrying. Then carried on regardless.

We blew the days budget on top class accommodation, a large chalet (including a fridge on the veranda) with private beach access, and went for a swim in Issyk kul (the name means warm water). The water was crystal clear, slightly salty and was indeed warm. Floating on our backs we could gaze at the impressive snow topped peaks rearing into the evening blue sky.

The Kyrgyzs, like the Kazaks, have a very welcoming attitude. Everyone we met was fascinated by our trip and eager to strike up some form of conversation. On this occasion it led to vodka drinking on the beach with a bunch of workmates from a gold mine.

With my radiator now being a problem we changed our route plans, again, in an effort to look after it. There was to be no more rough gravel or off road riding.

Unfortunately the route we plotted had a stretch that contained 70 kilometres of gravel.

The day had gone well,  some poor road surfaces, the usual gravel over a pass and then some top asphalt. Until our turn off.

We discussed following the asphalt but as this new road was not on any of our maps, Google or maps.me (a brilliant phone app we would have been lost without), that would have been a bad idea.

The gorge and roaring turquoise river it followed had multi coloured rock walls. This was one of the highlights of the trip so far.

Eventually we were spat out into a plain and then had a 3000+ metre mountain pass to negotiate, from where we could look back at part of our route.

We moved on back into Kazakhstan where with typical Kazak hospitality we were invited to indulge in a family Beshbarmak feast. This was after already eating our evening meal.

The Beshbarmak consisted of various cuts of boiled horse meat and an array of vegetables, freshly made pasta, fruit, salad and fried bread. All to be shared and eaten by hand (the name translates to "five finger food".

Oh, and vodka, lots of vodka.

Somehow we were on the road at 0830 the next day.

We are now riding the steppe north, the temperature never below 30 and topping out at 36-39 each day.

My radiator sealant is still working.

Bouncing back to Kazakhstan

Kazakhstan, a country I enjoyed visiting four years ago, even with all the breakdowns I had. I was glad to be back and introducing Jean to it.

The people are fantastic, they beep their horns, smile and wave, pull up next to you at junctions and shout greetings. Always wanting to know where we are from and shaking our hands.

They also randomly donate food and water. Despite us not being unable to communicate with him much, Ayden, opened the boot of his car on a mountain pass and filled my arms with water, bread and cakes. Then drove off while we worked out how to pack it all.

The down side though is still the roads. Heading south to Almaty the first 800 kilometres had deteriorated severely since my last visit (they have paused the road building). More bolts went missing. The final 200 kilometres which had scattered road works last time were now smooth asphalt.

We met our first, and currently only, other British bikers ,Suzanne and Roger (https://drpeachy.wordpress.com), of the trip. They were putting on their rain suits as we appeared out of a torrential deluge. In the ensuing chat, and radiator fixing, they missed getting wet.

Following a night in a very basic motel (but with a good cafe attached) we got our heads down and put in a long, slow, hot, 10 hour day of pot hole dodging to cut the journey to Almaty down to three days.

Almaty is a great city, lots of parks, Soviet buildings, mosques and a mish mash of East meets West.

We took a couple of (more ) days off the bikes before embarking on a short jaunt into the mountains of Krygyzstan to cool down, from where we will  re-enter Kazakhstan for a long hot ride North and West.

Food glorious food

I'd like to say we made it down the big hill to Barnaul without incident, but that would be a lie.

After crossing back into Russia we were faced with the magnificent Russian Altai. It knocked spots off the Mongolian side. Great asphalt, great expansive views. As we rounded bends, either a  new peak would appear, or the river would roar between rocks. Even I was stopping frequently to take pictures. There was over 400 kilometres of if it.Without a doubt one of the worlds great roads.

Our plans to take in some of the side tracks were put on hold as sorting Jean's bike was a top priority.

What we had not bargained on was my bike having an ignition melt down just as we entered Barnaul.

It is a known fault in the Pegasos, the two ignition wires solder failing, an issue which I had happen to me previously in Almaty, Kazakhstan. I thought we had "pre fixed" it on this bike, but patently not.

This threw our plans a bit. We managed to arrange a trailer lift to the garage where Jean's radiator was. Then we switched my clothes etc to Jean's bike and rode two up to our hotel. All the way there I was being sprayed by coolant, as the radiator condition deteriorated with each pothole I failed to avoid.

The next two days were all about fix and mend. As we fixed we found numerous loose and missing bolts.

We even had to get a pannier welded.

The replacement radiator is doing its job. And is now coping with the heat of Kazakhstan.

The high spot for us in Barnaul was the food. Although it had improved by Oglii in west Mongolia, they did a mean meat dumpling and fried kushoor, but if we could not find them it was back to grey mutton soup. 

Back in Russia vegetables had reappeared and now in Barnaul it was the return of multiple soups, salads and various meat dishes. We started to fatten ourselves back up.

Each night we ate at the same cafe, we would point at an item on the menu, our waitress would either show displeasure at our choice or smile and nod in agreement. If we had gone in for a fifth night we could have just sat there and and let her choose for us.

Our hotel was also next to a fruit and vegetable market, we stocked up on our fruit quota. It was a pity we could not self cater.

Run to the hills (outta Mongolia)

I found out why the gravel always looked smoother on the other track.

Because it is sand.

On a positive note I managed to fix the petrol stove. Petrol had seeped into the pressure valve and soaked the seal. I dried it, applied some oil to it and all seems well. To err on the safe side we have bought a "portable card" type stove (and gas ) as backup.

Our onward travel plans were disrupted by the discovery that our exit border would be shut for a week. It is normally open Monday to Saturday, but It transpires that  the Naadam (wrestling, archery and horse races ) festival incorporates a 5 day public holiday (from Tuesday 11th July), and the country literally shuts down. If we could not cross on Monday 10th then following the 2 day festival we would be kicking our heels for a week.

So we had to pick up our pace. At this point we had not managed more than 115 kilometres of track in a day. We needed to enter the Altai mountains and get to Olgii in one day. The first 160 kilometres would be sand, gravel and road works. Then another 70 kilometres on asphalt.

Our first obstacle was a missing bridge, and a ford too deep for the bikes.

Fortunately I remembered noting on the map that there was a North and South route. In the distance we could see the dust of a truck on a different sand track, so we headed off in it's direction.

This was typical of Mongolia. A river crossing bridge was out, on the major sand and gravel route between two provincial capitals; so they built a new one further downstream, to link with the new road under construction, but don't have any indication or signage that you should go that way.

However the Altai mountains did not disappoint us.

And they stretch to Russia and Kazakhstan as well, a lot of good riding views to be had.

The going was fast, but rough and it took its toll on the bikes. At Olgii I spent a day finding loose bolts, and tightening them. But the most serious was a snapped frame bolt. 

(Bottom left)

Fortunately there was a car service garage near our ger camp site, they were able to help me remove the remains of the old bolt and fit a new one.

That just left hat shopping, the hunt for food with vegetables in it and money exchange; we had spent so much time camping and self catering that we had only spent half of the money we expected to.

Monday 10th came, we got up early at 0530 to ride the 120 kilometres to the border before it opened at 0900.

At 0700 the radiator went again, spewing coolant all over Jean.

We have broken down in worse places.

Calmly we let it cool, added more sealant, crossed our fingers, legs and toes, then carried on. It survived the final 36 kilometres of rough gravel.

At the border there was a long line of traffic ahead, we were not the only ones trying to beat the closure. There was only one thing to do, bikers perogative, filter to the front and join the six Russians already there.

Another mission accomplished, now we just need to get down the (very long) hill, on a road reputed to be the best ride in Russia, to the replacement radiator.

The gravel is always smoother on the other track

We left Ulaanbaator to its pollution, apparently it is the second most polluted city in the world. UB sprawls across twenty or thirty kilometres and all traffic is funnelled through it.

Once clear of the city breathing became easier and the contents of our hankies stopped looking black.

For our first night camping in the wild we chose a nice spot in the hills between two plains. We happily sat watching sand storms blow across them. Until one hit us from behind, nearly flattening the tent.

All became calm, so we got our heads down.

Then at around midnight another sand storm hit, and rattled on for two hours while we lay there and hoped the tent withstood it. The next day we awoke with sand every where inside the tent.

After three days we overtook the road builders. This was the last road sign we saw for 200 kilometres, it was pick your path and be careful of taking the wrong fork.

There would be no more asphalt surfaces just sand and gravel (mainly sand really) for the next three or four days.

The going was slow, and we stopped short of our target town by over 50 kilometres as the daily downpour threatened and we set up camp quickly.

The skies cleared, the sun came out and then disaster struck. Our petrol stove broke.

For us this is a major issue when wild camping, we would not be able to boil water for meals, especially if it was taken from a stream. We were now dependant on finding a decent meal in the day time and snacks for the evening and mornings. The lack of a hot drink in the morning or evening was a hardship too far.

We do carry a backup gas stove, but I had neglected to pack (due to lack of space) a gas cannister. A new search at the next "big" town (Ulaangom) would be required.

On the plus side, the scenery and views are fantastic.

 

On our third day of tracks with a days target of 160 kilometres, navigation was made easier by being able to follow the new road construction (that was well blocked off from sneaky use of the gravel). However after only 90 kilometres fresh asphalt was down, and traffic was allowed on.

To celebrate we found a lakeside ex-Soviet holiday camp, got a room with a lake view balcony, rock solid beds that we could just fit on (Mongolians are short in stature I have banged my head on many a door beam), no water, and an outside squat toilet. Then we went for a swim. Our first wash in 6 days.