Biking to Mongolia

---

Proud of my decision to fare to Beijing all the way on bike I left the heavenly island of Olkhon. The way back did not seem so awful as going there. I did 135 kilometer and slept 40 km from Bayandai. In the morning I was woken up by chattering and dangling buckets. Camping in Russia in August brings along a great risk of colliding with mushroom and berry hunters. I made it to Bayandai fairly easy, and was kind of looking forward to the straight path back to Irkutsk. But a fierce face wind wanted it different. I could barely make it to Irkutsk as my bike would rather go backwards than forwards, but a text from beautiful Vaselina inviting me to sleep at her place certainly made my bones work as hard as they could.

Driving into Irkutsk the heavens opened with a solid shower while it got dark. At the same time, I had to find my way to a place I had never biked to before. At a gas station I could look at a map and this combined with my sense of direction brought me to Vaselina's with a confidence of few trapped in a strange city at night completely soaking wet. At some point it happened so that a car passed me closely and sent over me a wave of water in a scene worthy of a cartoon. Before entering Irkutsk Vaselina had sent me a message saying that a hot bath was waiting for me and since I was already soaked, I couldn't care less. I just broke out in laughter.

Vaselina arrived to her place 10 minutes after I did, so I was shivering as I jumped into the hot bath, which felt scolding on my freezing skin. But it was so good. Apparently Vaselina did not have anything against nakedness as long as it was my nakedness. She came out to the bathroom and entertained me while I was in there. Then she asked me if she should buy some food and if I like 'Pilmeni' (dumplings). She knew I was vegetarian, but did not care for it. I thought she meant vegetarian pilmeni, but she really urges me to eat meat. And since she made them, she insisted I ate at least one. I was furious, but I did it, and it was disgusting. Even though we were now alone, she still showed no interest in being romantic with me. So we slept.

I deserved some relaxing time after the crazy ride to Irkutsk, so when I was heading south it was already 1600. I was warned about going to Slydvyanka by bike, but I had to face the challenge. The challenge was two excruciating six kilometer ascends, which I both did that evening before throwing my things on the ground in the forest on the second peak. Next day was a rainy and rolling ride through a 50 kilometer long pass. On the way I stopped in a seemingly popular diner. They had omelets and pancakes for no money and the tea came by the pot so I spent some time there. My temper is not suited for Russian waitresses and I always gets in fights with them, because everything is always upside down for me. One waitress showed me how much I had to pay and I put the money on the counter and they disappeared. When a waitress wanted money also upon my departure I just had to complain. And I won. In Russian.

Going down from the hill was 10 kilometer of descend with the view of the Bajkal lake suddenly emerging halfway down, while clerks was selling fish along the side of the road. I stopped to buy a smoked one and eat it with chunks of bread while enjoying the mesmerizing view. Driving to Sludvyanka was not that bad after all.

Sludvyanka was not worth setting a foot down in, so I passed and tried to go as far as I could along the road which trails closely to the lake itself. Then it happened that my left toeclip refused to longer be a slave to my foot, so it hurled itself on the Russian tarmac in an attempt for suicide. Luckily I noticed this and went back to pick it up. My knee also noticed it and it started to complain heavily like it did when I started my adventure in Sweden. So I had to camp as I made it to Baykalsk. But I had a beautiful sunset, so I was still content. In the morning I found a lot of lazyberries, which I made a great porridge from.

Day five was more of the same. Driving along the coast trying to salve my pain with painkillers and tiger balm, but had to give in just after Tanhoy. To get to the beach I had a few options in a classic three door mystery. Path number one was a dead end and path number two had a huge rain puddle to get past, so this one must be the one I thought, since it is the most difficult. As I had done before, a good stride through it, should get me there. But the puddle clenched my wheels and I had to put a foot down into the ankle high water. A roar slipped my lips.

There was obviously people living at the beaches here as I noticed a very professionally built camp near the beach. Noone was home, but my guts failed me and I went further down the beach and made a fire to cook food and tea and to dry my wet shoe by. I had the beaches south of the Bajkal totally to myself the two nights I was there and that was quite amazing considering the beauty there. A clerk in a shop in Tankhoy asked me if I liked the Bajkal to which I replied "of course, it's beautiful". Her reply to that was that people, herself included, does not have time to enjoy it.

As the pain continued the following day, I was depressed. But then I heard a voice from a tavern. "Do you speak English?" "Do I ever!!!" The voice was American and came from John, who was working on a project in Buryatia. With him he had two locals, one a pastor, who blessed my journey. It felt good to communicate with people and a few kilometers down the stretch I met Martin from Estonia, who was going in the opposite direction after 14 months on the road. We sat outside a shop in Babushkin and exchanged memories, when a drunkard came by and offered us vodka, which we smilingly refused.

Martin reminded me that food is the biggest motivation factor and as a tour cyclist it is very important to follow your stomach. So I went to a shop and bought a big smoked cheese, Russian mayo and a loaf of bread. My day was saved as I ate a third of that cheese. Always follow your stomach.

As icing on the cake I ran into the Swiss again and we laughed about the fact that I had overtaken them again, which I also did the following day. I just need small things like that to cheer me up. After that I was flying as the landscape flattened out towards Ulan Ude. That night I camped close enough to the railway to feel the rumble of the trains in the ground. Too tired to let it keep me away though.

After an agonising 80 kilometers with facewind I reached Ulan Ude and found my host in the Buryati village of Nishnaya Ivolga all by myself. I had expected a very humble low-key fellow, but Sayan had studied English and lived in Europe. He just finished the Mongol Rally (look it up, if you want to know more) so Sayan was the cool kid in class. His family was amazing and treated me like a prince. There was a birthday party for Sayan this evening. The whole family was gathered and food was plentiful and the vodka glasses got refilled as soon as they were emptied. Everybody was singing a song, holding a speech and giving presents. As I got more and more drunk I picked up the courage to hold a speech as well. And sing a song. I sang a Danish birthday song for Sayan (the one with the three instruments) and I got everyone to drum and strum along with the song.

I woke up early at the same time as the father. He made me breakfast and showed me his huge stamp collection, which took quite some time and he only showed me the Mongolian collection. Sayan showed me around Ulan Ude. There is so far two things I can recommend: Kvas, the local thirst quenching mix of beer and lemonade, and the huge-ass Lenin head, which parades on the central square. Awesome.

I sprinted past two French couples going the same direction as I and one going the opposite direction. Today I have met four couples in total biking the world, all French. Unfortunately they are too slow for me, so I have to overtake them and excuse myself. Going 60-70 kilometers per day is beneath my patience.

I got to the Mongolian border after two days and rolled into the country on the top of my want-to-do list with expectations higher than the above 1000 meter plateau Mongolia is sitting on.

---