Baruuntuurun – Ulaangom
30th June 2014 15-28’C 201km Sand, rocks, corrugations
Baruuntuurun – Ulaangom
I set out at 7:30am from Baruuntuurun, the bike started ok and I was on my way. Passing through large areas of flat desert, lots of sand, rocks and corrugations that shake everything apart.
So far I have not lost a bolt or screw to the desert, only the cap to the spare fuel. Although I have had a few screws that have shaken loose and I’ve managed to notice and tighten them up before they have fallen out. The same cannot be said for the cameras. While they are all still functioning, two of them now make very bad grinding sounds when they are switched on. I am very diligent in keeping them free of dust, double-bagging the non-waterproof one, but I suspect that the constant vibrations from riding off-road has been taking it’s toll on the internal lens mechanisms. Hopefully they last until Europe where they can be serviced. It is still a very long way and a lot of rough roads before then.
I was riding through a long straight section and had not seen anyone for hours, when I spotted a man in the distance, sitting still on his horse. I started slowing down and when he saw that I was going to stop he slowly trotted over to nearby the road, where we both stopped.
Greeting him with a hearty “sain baina uu” I offered him a cigarette, which he accepted and we both sat down in the middle of the desert and chatted for a while. I asked him about his animals and where his ger was, and he pointed towards the north-east. I looked out that way, and could see nothing in the distance, despite the land being completely flat. Once he had finished the cigarette, we said goodbye and he rode off into the distance.
At one point there was a sand dune to climb as the trail led up the side of a dune. It looks small and easy in the photos, but it was a big climb.
I was within a few kilometres of the village of Dzüüngovi when the GPS and the map indicated to head in different directions, the GPS saying go directly west, and the map suggesting go south-west for another 5km before heading north. I’d been misled by the GPS on a few occasions, so this time I decided to trust the map and followed that track. Unbelievably, this time the GPS was correct and the map led me to a muddy swamp and a stream. There were a few tracks in the mud from farmers crossing there so I got off and walked through the stream to see where they would lead. I’m glad the tracks were there, as crossing the stream meant riding along in the water for some distance in order to exit out onto semi-solid ground. To go the shortest way directly through the stream would just lead into yet another bog.
Popping out the other side of the stream the trail turned into a path of mud holes for 500M and I rode along the edge in the saltbush for most of the way before it then turned into deep sand. I couldn’t believe how much the trail had changed within 2km. First desert stones, to a small creek, to mud and now beach sand. I nearly came off a couple of times when the front wheel washed out in the deep sand, and ended up bogged for a short while, digging and pushing the bike out under power.
Finally I reached the town. There was no fuel, but there was a cold orange juice and water in the small store. I took a break to cool down and rest, while chatting with a couple of guys who appeared when they heard the bike roll in.
I headed back out onto the trail and was 76km from Ulaangom, when the low fuel indicator lit up, indicating I had about 70km worth of fuel remaining. It looked like I was going to have a long walk into town. When I calculated how much of the low octane fuel to put in yesterday, I had neglected to consider that the hard sand riding would consume fuel much more aggressively than riding the fast stone plains. That, combined with the poorer fuel quality meant that it looked like I was going to end up running short. I kicked myself again. At least it was only 6km, not 60km.
I rode gingerly for the next 2hrs, trying to stretch out the little remaining fuel, and watched the fuel consumption carefully.
As I approached Ulaangom, there were two options, take a deep and fast river crossing, or ride an extra 2km to use the safer option, a new bridge over the river. I hesitated briefly and seriously considered an attempt at crossing the river, but thought better of it and rode the extra distance. No point having a bike at the bottom of the river.
As I crested the hill and looked down to view Ulaangom, an oasis in the desert, to see the green grass and a the river was such a pleasant sight. A real oasis, and also an oasis for me and the bike, with fuel stations now within reach.
I stopped at the first station that sold 95 octane fuel, with a great sense of relief. The trip computer indicated I had just 4km remaining until empty. The bike has a 16L tank, but somehow I’d been able to put 16.09L of fuel into the empty tank. It must have been completely empty. I’d cut it very fine this time.
As I finished filling up the bike, I heard the sound of two Yamaha XT600’s pull into the driveway. Lena & Arne, a German couple who had ridden to Mongolia from Europe via the ‘stans, the opposite direction to my journey. And they were headed in the direction I had just come from. We spent some time exchanging notes and experiences on road conditions.
A few days ago, while I was “doing what a bear does in the woods” in the forest at Khogsvol, something had bitten me on the arse. I had assumed it was a mosquito, but the bite had now become quite painful, especially when sitting on the bike. I needed to check out what was going on. So earlier this morning, lacking a mirror to be able to get a look at the problem area, I squatted over the camera and took a few photos so I could see if I had a more serious problem developing, or maybe just a saddle sore. It turned out to be fine, just a pimple that was easily dispensed with and I made sure to delete the offending photos.
So when Lena & Arne asked about road conditions, I said “road conditions are so subjective, one persons bad road is another persons good road. Why don’t I just show you what the road looks like. I’ve got photos of the road, you can decide for yourself what you think of the road.”
We were flicking through the photos of the road together, when a shot of my hairy sphincter glowed up on the screen.
“OOOOHHHH! You probably don’t need to see that!”
They looked a bit shocked, and I started to explain, but that was making it worse. I’d obviously missed deleting one of the photos I’d taken this morning . At least it wasn’t the border police looking through my camera.
Fortunately they were good sports, and I hope they are not too scarred from what they have seen. We wished each other well, took a photo together and headed off in opposite directions.
I found a man with a compressor by the side of the road, re-inflated the tyres, and located a hotel. Confirming they had hot water, I checked in and had my first shower in 3 days. Even though I had to hold the shower-head, it was great to wash the dust and grime from the road off, and down the drain. I could see the dirt coming off me on the floor of the shower.
Now time for a big feed and a good sleep.
Good job on reaching the petrol station. If I was in eastern Europe and managed to get 16.09 into a 16 tank – I’d probably question the pump owner and his ethics…