Rally back to Khovd

The Rally

After accidentally crashing a Kazakh wedding while visiting Olgii's mosque:

coincidentally, the best man was the clerk at the internet cafe from which I wrote my last post

and helping Alec the Russian construction worker celebrate his birthday:

From left to right: Alec (Russian), Delicious bbq meat (Russian), Melanie (German/Canadian), Diman (Russian) and Adi (Israeli)

I decided it was time to head to Khovd.

I had taken a minibus from Khovd to Olgii, and planned to take the same, or a jeep, back. Melanie, pictured above, also was headed to Khovd, so we went down to the market to book ourselves a ride for later that day. Easy enough. We got there, found a jeep, found a good price, he said he was leaving at 1pm and would pick us up at our guest house, gave us his phone number, no problem

At 1pm we were ready at the guesthouse. I wasn't expecting a prompt arrival, it being Mongolia and all, so I was pretty relaxed. At about 1:15 Melanie (being German) began to worry. I reminded her that my 2pm minibus from Khovd didn't actually pick me up until 2:55, then we picked up three other people and didn't leave the city until 3:30, so we didn't need to worry until much later. Might as well enjoy the Olympic archery in the cafe (Mongolia beat the US, it was quite fun to watch, actually).

At 2:15, Melanie's patience was reaching an end. We tried calling our driver constantly, but no answer. Finally, we get through, only to remember that he doesn't speak English and we don't speak Mongolian. All we could make out was a repeated "Auto ochho! Auto ochho!" before he hung up on us. When we asked the owner what this meant, she said, "oh, he says he is coming!" Very nice, we'd be gone in minutes.

At 2:45 we called again. This time, our Mongolian host took the phone. "He says he will be here in 20 minutes". Ok, not bad.

At 3:15 he wasn't there

At 3:45 we started scheming about other options

At 4:00 we realized that the fact that his phone wasn't ringing probably meant that he had either turned it off, or had already left Olgii and was out of service. Bummer.

Then, we saw these outside:

Notice the Yak skull

And most of the scottish flag

 Many of you may have heard me talk about the Mongol Rally (http://www.theadventurists.com/the-adventures/mongol-rally/). When I was in college, a few friends of mine were seriously considering entering, but nothing ever came of it. I had forgotten about it until now, when we suddenly had two tiny Renault Clios with British plates sitting in front of our guesthouse. A man who looked rather like Indiana Jones with thigh shorts came out of one of the cars to the guesthouse. 

They were six Scottish soldiers (three Scots and three Englishmen, really) and had driven from Goodwood, England to Khovd over the past two weeks and were now looking for a mechanic who could install some metal plates on the underbelly of their cars to protect them from the Mongolian roads. I had been wandering town the day before and happened to walk through the mechanics' district, so I told them where I figured they could get some help. During our conversation, we told him about our Jeep predicament and found out that they, too, were headed to Khovd.

Brilliant.

After some shuffling around to the market and haggling with mechanics, they scrapped their mechanic idea, threw our backpacks on the roof, scooched over in the back seat and crammed another two people, some extra food and a flat of beer into the tiny cars. We were off!

Then we weren't

You can still see the pavement in the distance

Still within sight of Olgii, the rear vehicle (Elvis, was its name) had earned a flat tire. The first of their entire trip, it turns out. No worries. British Army efficiency (and plenty of whinging and inter-car piss-taking) hopped to and the new wheel was on in no time. We left Olgii in the dust and headed south.

Now, if you have ever been to Mongolia, or read my bus entry, you have an idea of what these roads are like. Now take a look at the vehicles in these pictures. They each have about 4in of clearance, 2 wheel drive, and not much more than a 1L engine. Completely not suited for this journey. But that's the point, isn't it?

Our maximum speed was about half that of the jeeps and buses and trucks, so the trip was going to take considerably longer than the 7hr jeep ride. As such, we camped partway at a beautiful, seemingly untouched lake.

They were in love with my bivy sac. OR and Seattle's economy can thank me for the advertisement.

After a night of Scotch whiskey, Mongolian beer, Lake swimming, Apache dancing and Scottish-American translation via the English, we were up at dawn to start another full day of driving.

Well, some of us were up at dawn

Ken (with Grace the monkey) and Spud (with the eye mask) were inseparable

We were off for the adventure that is the Mongol Rally. We inched along and bumped and scraped and crossed rivers

This wasn't even the deepest one

And stopped for beautiful mountain photo shoots

We found out later that this exact shot (with different cars) was in the Mongol Rally handbook. We were within 20ft of the same spot on the road. Picturesque spot, I guess.

From left: Archie, me, Andy (on the hood), Nick, Jamie, Spud and Ken. Elvis (front car) and Jezebel (back car) also pictured.

And then Jamie got Jezebel stuck

high-centered on the mud and grass tuft

 So we got out the shovels and started to dig

This was half an hour after we had washed up in the river

and we pushed. And we dug, and we tried lifting, and we were firmly stuck. Luckily, a truck was passing by and agreed to pull us out. Not before it got itself stuck, though

He actually asked us to drive forwards (into what we had been stuck in) so he could maneuver

But in no time, we were out and back on the highway. Or road. Or track, or whatever you want to call it

The truck waited until we got out of the mud, then took off at top speed

By the evening we rolled into Khovd, about 24 hrs after we had left Olgii. 3 or 4 times as long as the jeep would have taken, but as I told these boys: you don't write home about a jeep trip.

Off to UB. Good luck, gents

Even in Khovd, we actually camped with these guys one last night to save money (and because they were just fun to be around), helped them get to the mechanic in the morning, they got us to a hotel, and we parted ways.

On a side note: most of these guys will be headed to Alberta for tank exercises in a couple of weeks. Spud has two weeks off sometime in September or October and may come visit Seattle. If any of you would like to play host to a Scottish tank soldier, let me know. Be warned, you may need a translator. Or watch the movie "Trainspotting" a few times before he shows up.

Khovd and beyond

Now I'm in Khovd. I had hoped to see some Khoomei singing here (also known as throat singing, it's traditional around here in in the Tuvan region in Russia), but it turns out it's actually not easy to organize unless there's a competition (which I missed by a week), a concert (the theater takes vacation in August), or you want to pay a singer $100+ for an hour.

Despite a bit of disappointment there, I did connect with an American named Bob and his british wife, Hazel, who have been living here for 10 years teaching English. They had some fascinating insight and peculiar perspective into the Mongolian culture and educational system. I won't go into detail on that here, but it's much more cynical, or maybe realistic, than the guidebooks make it out. They also know everyone. Melanie wanted to set up a homestay similar to mine and ended up in a car with a Mongolian family headed to the countryside on a week vacation within 2hrs. She's also paying a fraction of what I did. Not bad.

I think I'll head to Bulgan tomorrow to get ready to cross the border to China on Monday (it's closed for the weekend). Bob and Hazel have an Australian friend who lives there who will help me figure out the crossing. I'm not sure if there is internet in Bulgan, and once I'm back in China I'll be behind the great firewall again. This means my updates for the next several weeks in Xinjiang will be via email (unless someone can tell me a relatively easy way to get an internet cafe computer to open google's blogger). If you received an email about this post, you'll get those emails. If you didn't and want to keep updated, let me know and I'll add you in.

Since the internet here isn't bad, here's a couple quick videos to give you a feel for the ride. It's hard to get a sense of the road from the first one, unfortunately:

Truly nomadic

 A quick update before I take off...

After Tilek took very good care of me in Khovd, including a home-cooked meal, some new friends and tons of instant coffee, I arrived safely in Olgii. It's about a 7hr drive, in a russian minibusvan. I'd heard these were pretty packed and uncomfortable, but mine actually only had the same number of people as seats, and I had about twice the legroom as the day before, so I was quite happy.

In Olgii, I was met by a Scot named Alistair who is working with Bek, my contact in the area. Bek's out of town currently, but Alistair and Beks family put me up for the night and explained the next step in the journey: I'll be leaving today to about 200k west, deeper into the wilds of Mongolia. There, my driver will drop me off and I'll stay with a nomadic Kazakh family for the next 10 days to two weeks (I still haven't decided...). Needless to say, I will not have internet for the next couple of weeks, so don't plan on updates. If you're curious, imagine me eating a goats head, riding a horse, or playing charades to try to explain to my hosts that really, I'm quite full, and I don't need that last hunk of sheep fat. You should have it. Thank you, though.

A quick note about Kazakhs: Apparently this part of the world is where Kazakh culture has been most preserved. I'll actually be hearing a more pure version of the language and seeing a more pure version of the original culture than I will when I visit Kazakhstan itself. Unfortunately, my fledgling Mongolian skills may not be helpful, although my even more fledgling Russian may be...

Miss you all, I'm looking forward to reading some updates when I get back!!!

Автобус Ховд руу

Imagine a mechanical bull. That's right, the kind they have at those rodeo-themed bars. Ok, now imagine that you're sitting on that mechanical bull. Now, imagine that you're sitting on that mechanical bull in a closet. Now make that closet about half the size that you were just imagining. Maybe a little smaller. It's not just any closet, but more like Mrs. Trunchbull's "chokey" from Roald Dahl's Matilda. You know, with the sharp bits of metal sticking out of the walls so you can't lean against them. Ok, got it? Now, it's not just you on this bull.  It's you and your new friend, Sanjay, sitting sidesaddle. In the closet. Well, maybe it's more of a cubicle. You  can see over the walls a little bit. Now imagine that you take another 20 cubicles just like the one that you and Sanjay are in and pack them into a room of about 200 sq ft. Now put that room filled with all 43 of you on wheels. Now turn on all of those mechanical bulls. Now try to sleep. Welcome to the last couple of days of my life.

Oh yeah, and add in a puking kid, a couple of plastered old timers and three flat tires.

When I first got on the bus, I realized immediately that I would be in the back row. Seat 32, not a good sign. The back is where you want to be when you're 13 and riding the bus to junior high for maybe 20 minutes a day. The bumps are bigger, it's more fun. When you're an adult looking at a 48-hr ride, bigger bumps are not what you're going for.

Oh well, I figure, at least I'm not in the broken seat in the corner (I wish this computer would let me upload photos...) The driver assures me that I'm in the seat next to it. As people pile on, I realize that it will be the white guy's duty to be in the worst seat on the bus, obviously. Remember that mechanical bull? Maybe loosen the saddle a bit so it slides around on you.

We head out of UB on paved roads and it's not so bad. I begin to think to myself "hey, is this the worst it can get? No worries!" Wrong. Pavement soon gives way to patchy pavement, then sometimes it's more like a forest service road, graded and gravel. Sometimes more like your average beach access road, a bit sandy and rutted, but it's there. Then sometimes it's more like your average ATV track, or maybe portage trail. And remember, each of those bumps is at least twice as big in the back seat. Sometimes the road is a river crossing, sometimes it's driving through a field. Oh yeah, and sometimes the road just isn't.

All in all, though, it was surprisingly bearable. It helped that Sanjay and the other Mongolians were clearly as uncomfortable as I was. It turns out there isn't some gene that makes you immune to discomfort, just a general ability and willingness to subject yourself to more of it if necessary. You find ways to get "comfortable" I have a great photo of Sanjay and I cuddling for y'all when I get to a better computer.

40+ hours... that's a long time. Around hour 25 I thought to myself: "hey, almost there!" I immediately had flashbacks to running the Seattle marathon in 2003 with my friend John. At mile 18 I tried to encourage him by saying, "look, John, mile 18! We're almost there!" Thinking that since we were over 2/3 the way, we were almost there. "F*** you, Shawn. We have 8 miles left to run. We are NOT almost there!" Yes. 25 hours was not quite "almost there"

But it was more "almost there" than I thought. I had been told 44hrs by the bus driver in UB, so I was planning on arriving here in Khovd at around  8am with time to settle in, find a place to stay and find out how to get to Olgii. Unfortunately, (or fortunately), the bus was about 9 hours early, somehow. We pulled into Khovd at 11:15pm. In the dark. Everyone else said goodbye and left.

I started walking north. My plan was to camp out of town, anyway, might as well do that instead of try to find a hotel. Then so many of your voices passed through my head and I decided,  "you know, maybe  walking around the outskirts of a strange town at midnight with obvious tourist luggage is a bad idea..." So I forked up the $15 for the closest hotel and passed out for the night. I was comforted by the proximity to the police station, right across the street from the bus stop and less than a block from my hotel.

This morning I got up and walked past that same police station. One of the cops was swatting at spiders with his baton while one of the others was threatening his comrade with a live taser. At least I had the illusion of safety last night...

The plan:
A man named Tilek just stopped by and introduced himself. He's the only one I've met in Khovd who speaks English. He says he works for the WWF across the street (where I had just asked for directions) protecting wild horses. He also says he can show me how to get to the market and to the bus stop to get a bus for Olgii. Hopefully he's as helpful as he looks!

Once in Olgii, I'll try to get in touch with a friend of a friend who is setting up a homestay for me with a Kazakh nomadic family. I'll be with them for a week or so, maybe two. I'll post again whenever I have internet!

Take care and keep me posted.