Round The World 2009 - The Scenic Way Round


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Leaving London

Everything was well planned - Aled and Kate had arrived to house sit, the bikes were ready, everything was packed, and then the house central heating failed ! So, we spent our last night before departing on our little expedition with Nick repairing the central heating - oh joy !

After a brief meet at the Ace Cafe, some departure photos, and a bacon sarnie, we were ready to head for Dover. Until I was volunteered to navigate to Central London to collect John's passport from the agent. Navigating into Central London was fine, the amount of traffic - made worse by the tube strike, combined with loaded up bikes (heavy and wide) and hot sticky London weather made it an ideal training ground for central Istanbul!


With passport collected, and 'fastest route' to Dover entered into the GPS, I was a little surprised to find our selves in Holborn, then we passed St Pauls, then we crossed London Bridge, nevermind - trust the GPS... Then we passed Cutty Sark, then under the A2 - then I remembered, a few weekend previously I'd set the GPS to avoid highways and motorways - Doh ! So, with navigation resolved, we blasted down the A2 and onto the P&O ferry.

Once in Calais - a blast down the highway to our overnight camp just outside Arras.

Over a few beers we totalled the incidents of the day (and we are still on tarmac, in Western Europe):
3 dropped bikes (by 2 different people)
1 car wing mirror
2 bashed panniers (same person, same incident :-))
2 navigation errors
....it could be along trip

Northern France - Land of the straight road

After a blissful night's sleep listening to the 'Arras snoring bird',a quick Pain au Chocolat, and we were off. Northern France is still as boring as I remember it, so this could be a short blog entry. Nevertheless, we set off, quick coffee and fuel stop, then Scott took over navigation - after an hour or so we ended up here:


Many more hours of dull Northern French roads and we are finally getting into the mountains.

The Eiger

Finally into the Alps;

Fantastic scenery, fab roads and great weather - what more can be said. (I think I may have to move to Interlaken - what a beautiful place)

Caroline somehow mangaged to find the 'ski run and trail riding' option on her GPS, which noone else seemed to have [ :-) ], which took us on the above route from Grindelwald, beneath the Eiger to the Grimsel Pass - highly recomended.

Furka Pass and the 1/2 metre Wurste

Leaving Switzerland and heading for Austria was another day (sigh) of fantastic alpine views, hairpin mountain roads, more bikers than you could shake a stick at, and the longest Wurste in history. We also managed a stage of the Tour de Suisse cycle race (well we were 2 hours ahead of them)

The Furka Pass

The worlds longest Wurste

Tomorrow, the long slog to Prague

Cor blimey my arse hurts (the long slog to Prague)

600 odd km today, mostly boring motorway, but we did manage to divert off over the Fernpass into Germany, and then through the German ski town of Garmisch.

A good ole test of the riding gear today - 10degC and raining hard, then 28degC and blazing sun as we reached Czech Republic - hmm we must smell delightful by now ;-)

No photos today: but you can see the photo so far at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/russolivant/collections/72157613229548714/

Church of Bones and the Czech Olympic Swimming Pool

After a lap of Prague (to buy some new waterproof trousers - to fend off the rain, rather than for wearing ;-) ), we headed off to the Church of bones - a church decorated in human bones from the 1500's - even the chandelier is made of bones;

Nettleton tours then took over and managed to find the 'green lane' function on the SatNav (Czech's haven't even heard of green lanes !!). Needless to say, in true 'green laning' style, we completed a 360 loop around Policka, and then ended up in farmyard !!


Once out of the farmyard a welcome coffee break was had alongside a local swimming pool (complete with sluice gate)

Next stop Slovakia - Spriggo, I'm heading to the bank - just for you.... I hope the notes are legit...

Trouble in Slovakia

The transition from Czech to Slovakia started well, some lovely roads through the forest, and then a self-induced detour looking for some excitement;

Although the excitement got a little too much, and we had to U-turn :-(


After some man-handling of the bikes, we managed to get them turned around, and back on route to Zilina.
A quick visit to the bank to wash some of Dave's dirty casino money, and off to the ski resort for a beer/ice-cream;

From the cool Mountains of Slovakia

It doesn't matter if you have snow or not - if you are staying in a ski resort - you _have_ to take the cable car to the top. Which is exactly what we did - to a summit of 1700m - not the highest resort in the world, but very beautiful, and very under-developed.

The cable car didn't quite get to the summit, so we started treking - we passed several Slovak ramblers who seemed bemused by our choice of hiking clothes. Personally I thought they were fine - goretex, durable, breathable, and stiff boots. Although DelBoy was a bit OTT bringing his crash helmet...

I think the ski-to-your-door in Slovakia is more 'bothy-style' than 'Courchevel-chique';

With the customary touristy bits over with, we got on with the serious (ahem) job of Round-the-World motorcycling, and headed off for Hungary.
Simon was certainly taking things very seriously, with hardly anytime to take his hands off the handlebars to clean his own visor, he enlisted some help when we refueled.

The Romanian demolition derby

Leaving Budapest, for Cluj-Napoka (Romania) was a 300 mile route, on the main road (well perhaps the only direct road), and as luck would have it, it started raining just as we left Budapest. Now Budapest has a fair few cobbled roads, and tram lines, and as any motorcyclist knows – (cobbles || tram_lines) + rain = motorcycle carnage. Luckily we avoided any such carnage. The route through Hungary was fairly uneventful, just one car precariously balanced on the Armco barrier….

A quick detour (I’ll hold my hands up to this one) down a pedestrian road attracted the attention of the local constabulary. A quick flash of the UK driving licence, a discussion about how we were lost on route to New York, and probably the clincher – it started raining, and the nice policeman wished us a good day, and left us to continue.

The Romanian border was soon upon us (below), after a quick flash of the passport (without removing crash helmets), and enquiry as to whether we were in ‘good health’, and we were allowed to pass into Romania.
The condition of the high rise apartments changed quite dramatically – a similar communist style as other areas in Eastern Europe, but in far worse condition.

The same could be said of the driving – I think ‘them Duke Boys’ must have been employed as driving instructors following the ‘Dukes of Hazzard’ remake.
The driving was fast and furious, with many overtaking drivers forcing their way into the line of traffic after their overtaking manoeuvre, others simply forced the oncoming traffic to take avoiding action.

On one particular twisty road over a hillock, their were 4 separate accidents within a 2km distance – 3 off the side of the road and down the embankment, and one in the middle of the road – a little more considerate for the emergency services!!

On the approach to Cluj-Napoka, the undertaking (on a single carriageway road) was starting to get a little crazy – parked cars and pedestrians acted as chicanes.
One particular incident happened 4 cars ahead of us; 1 car undertook, the next car undertook the undertaker, and in doing so, mounted the pavement, which launched him ‘General Lee’ style into the air, landing in the passenger door of the car that the 2 of them were trying to overtake. He then bounced between the 2 cars until he had all 4 wheels on the ground – at which point he could slow down and pull over, to exchange insurance details (or left hooks??)

So we have another 2 days of Romanian driving – looking on the Brightside, it seems to be a good introduction to driving in Istanbul……

The true Romania (and Transylvania)


The mad driving of yesterday disappeared today - although we still witnessed the aftermath of a number crashes, including an upturned lorry complete with driver casually sitting on the armco-barrier awaiting collection.

The scenery very quickly changes as you enter rural Romania - with horse and carts competing with cars and lorries for the same stretch of tarmac;

The countryside seems to be left to it's own devices, most farming land seems to be shared amongst the people - with some fields being tended by hand (scything and raking grass, to be collected by horse and cart), with neighbouring fields farmed with basic machinery (tractors and hay bailers). The land further from the roads seem to be left to roaming sheperds and their flocks. Beautiful rolling scenery.


We are currently staying in Bran, overlooking Bran Castle hwich is meant to be some sort of touristy Dracula type venue - but walking around the only reference to Dracula is in the tat shops. The castle it's self is fantastic - well worth a visit.

Oh - and we've worked out the Romanian driving - it gets far worse in the afternoon. Must be something to do with the vodka consumed at lunchtime....

Carpathian Mountains and Bulgaria

Leaving Bran we were soon riding over the Carpathian Mountains - more great roads, and fab scenery.

Todays route was off GPS, we'd managed to blag a more detailed Romaninan map, and this had plenty of minor routes detailed. This did of course mean no lunch stop - as we were pretty muc in the middle of a farming area - so were shopless.

A quick coke break at a charming bus shelter;

The farming route was pretty much one straight dirt road to the Danube (and Bulgaria);

On the plains we came across this brave soul, who live in a bee hive (the coloured boxes are all individual bee hives)!!!

Entry into Bulgaria was over a very crumply bridge spanning the Danube, into Ruse - a very rundown port town. A very quick blast across Bulgaria and we'll be entering Turkey tomorrow - destination Gallipoli.

Balkan Mountains

Leaving the touristy area of Veliko Tarrovo we were soon into the Balkan Mountains and the first closed road of the day. The diversion took us higher into the Balkan Mountains, then the second closed road (on the diversion) took us down to the plains - on route we passed this monument


Once down onto the plains, we managed some decent progress until the third closed road of the day at Simeonovgrad. Being able to read Cyrillic meant that the diversion signs were easy to read, and we managed to reroute to the partially built motorway, which terminated at the Bulgarian-Turkish border. Bonus !!

Where is my pilica....

Pilica (or something similar) we now know, is Turkish for registration (as in vehicle registration number).

Our first real border crossing was a test of patience. First we had to battle past the 2km (or so) line of queueing lorries. Then exit Bulgaria via a passport booth and a vehicle check booth. Then it was on to Turkey.

The first booth in Turkey was to photograph the vehicle occupants, and take the registration details - simple, huh. Then off to the next sequence of booths (with many cars queued up in the stifling heat). First stop, passport check, where you are told you don't have a Turkish visa (we knew that), so off to booth 92 (about 100m away) to buy the visa (in English Pounds), then back to the second booth to get the visa stamped in the passport. Then to the next booth to get the green card insurance check (no we knew we didn't have that either), so off to booth 91 (about 90m away) to get the vehicle insurance, then back to the third booth to get the insurance stamped in the passport, then off to get cash (booth 89 - 80m away), then off to customs to check the bikes.

All was going well, (processed in around 1 hour), and only one final check to go.

BUT.
At the 3rd booth inline, Scott's registration details 'did not compute' - we now realise that blokey in booth 1 had mistyped the registration details, so the final check could not be completed, as the registration numbers were mismatched.

Queue a Basil Fawlty hour long episode of Scott running from booth to booth, in reverse order, then correct order, then random order, whilst at the same time the border officials were in the middle of some sort of change in shift, meaning, of course, zero continuity.

Well, after 2 hours of Basily Fawlty activity we finally exited the border crossing, and number 1 priority - a kebab;

Then it was a mere 200km odd to Gallipoli for an overnighter by the Dardanelles Straits.

Turkey - the calm befor the storm

Leaving Gallipoli we backtracked up the peninsula, diverting off to Anzac bay - the site of landing of troops in the Gallopilli campaign in the first world war.

Rather than take the main road to Istanbul we diverted off up the coast road, a gravel track that clung to the edge of the clifs, offering great views across the Sea of Marmara.

This was certainly the calm before the storm - entering Istasnbul...
Without any GPS mapping nor paper maps of Istanbul, it was a case of following the direction indicator on the GPS to the waypoint marked for the location of the hotel - easy ?
It would be easy in a logical street grid layout city, or indeed one without roadworks, deadends, market streets, suicidal drivers. oh, and 38deg heat..

We stopped at the city limits (5km from the hotel), and gave ourselves 1 hour to find the hotel, otherwise we would hail a taxi and follow that. The plan was simple, the 3 of us would keep close together, blocking out any cars from separating us, very early use of indicators to show intended direction changes, and if the hazard lights were used then we had know idea where we were, or where we were going.

After 45 minutes we were 800m from the hotel, it then took a further 30 minutes to 'home in' to the hotel - hazard lights on all the way !!

The route of choice (??!!) took us into the Grand Bazaar, down the pedestrian streets (shoppers didn't seem to bothered!), and through the markets. We had pedestrians helping us to turn the bikes round on steep cobbled streets and street vendors moving their stalls to let us through. A beer was very welcome when we finally reached the hotel :-)

Spot the 2 silver crash helmets in the crowd...

Camp Green Thai Curry

Leaving Istanbul was much easier than the arrival - we jumped on the ferry which was within 100yds from the hotel, from Europe into Asia. £1 and we were out of Istanbul and onto the motorway.

After commenting how much safer (but fast, very fast) the drivers are in Turkey, we were held up on the motorway by 2 accidents - 1 unfortunately fatal.

A quick 200km along the toll road, and we re-grouped ready for the offroad route to a wild camp in the Turkish hills;

My office for the evening;

And finally the best green thai curry chefs in Turkey;

Mid Turkey is all motorways - even if they are unfinished

Another long day 450km to Goreme. It should be a fairly straight forward run. The first 200km was a long a fantastic motorway which wound it's way across a fantastic hill range, very nice views of a vast countryside.

After a quick coke stop, we veered off the intended route, onto the D260, a motorway which was still under construction - all 200km of it.

Luckily I was leading so I didn't see much dust along the whole route, pity the same couldn't be said about Caroline, who rode in the dust for the whole 200km ;-)

Still, at least she found a new development project for next year;
The driveway could do with some work tho';
Still, plenty of neighbours;
And this is what it could look like;

Turkish Delight

After a fantastic evening at the 'Hotel of Caves' - literally built into the cliffs, drinking beer and watching the lightening strike over the rocky hills opposite the town of Goreme;

Another long day (500+km) from Goreme to Mount Nemrut took us over seven 2000m passes, and we spent the majority of the day at an altitude of +1000m. Below is 'Erciyes Dagi' (3917m) the highest mountain in the range;

The scenery through the mountain range was pretty awesome, although the peak temperature hit 42 centegrade;

We then climbed for an hour an a half to our accomodation just below the summit of Mount Nemrut;

6 Turkish Lira allows us up to the summit;
Statues built by King Antiochus I Theos of Commagene in 62 BC

Hot in Turkey

An early start today from Mount Nemrut as we had to make a ferry, there was little option in different routes so we basically rode as a large group - apart from 'TimsTours' who prefer their own u-turning route. The first hour took us winding down the mountain on gravel trails through a number of tiny villages, passing the villagers taking their cattle to grazing;

Once at the lake, we waited for the ferry;
Once the ferry arrived, we particed the art of 'English Queuing' - it looks like it'll be tight to fit everyone on board, so we upped the anti to 'English Pushing-in' - a few beeps of the Turkish horns, and not a lot of progress. So, the final push - a full scale attack. We managed to take the last few places on the ferry, which meant the bikes had to go on in reverse - so much lifiting and hauling of the bikes, and finally we were on..

Once off the ferry, it was the long haul to Erzerum - a ride which took us within 80km of the Syria and Iraq borders. The landscape was pretty barren - sandy and rocky, with the temperature hitting 45degC. Stopping for photos etc was not a valid option. Turning north towards Bingol and the terrain turned in more arable land - still very dry and yellow - but full of crop fields; combine harversters working the fields, and people shoveling the harvest into sacks to be loaded onto trucks.

Climbing higher in the mountain range, the military presence was more and more obvious, with more road blocks (none of which we had to stop at), and finally at the summit, a huge military base (again, for obvious reasons, no photos).

Once over the summit, the scenery changed - green hills, meadows, wild flowers, lakes, bee-hives - the difference was astonishing;


Turkey's O.K. Corral

Erzerum to our wild camp in Ani was to be a short day, so we set off late, and aim to cruise the 200 odd km. Unfortunately our plans were thwarted by 2 eager Police... After a short game of charades, and some might gesticulation, it was confirmed that the speed limit for motorcycles is 70kph (45mph), not 120 kph as it is for cars... We each came away 130USD lighter.
Yesterday the landscape changed from rocky and barren, today trees appeared;

The last fuel stop before the Gorgian border (and our camp) was in Kars. A desolate town situated high in the hills (around 2000m). After fuelling we headed into the town to find some lunch. The outskirts of the town consisted of basic stone farmhouses, and some failry modern (1950's) concrete mid-rise (6 storey) apartment blocks, seemingly plonked in the middle of fields - no driveways, or foot paths to them - just plonked there.
We stopped off at a little kebab cafe for lunch;

A quick touristy visit to the ruins at Ani,


A wander to view the Turkey/Armenia border;

Then a couple of beers at the lovely Ahu Restaurant whilst waiting for the remainder of the group to catch up, before heading off to find a camp for the night. Unfortunately, the owner of the Ahu tried to rip us off, instead of the 5lira per beer can he had told us (a similar price all the way across Turkey), he was now charging 5 lira per glass (4 or 5 glasses to a can!). This equated to around £250 for around 20 cans of beer!
Needless to say there was a little commotion as we paid the original agreed amount, and tried to leave...

We scarpered and headed out to a find a camp for the night;

Has Georgia been abandoned?

A very early start and off to Georgia, the route climbed high into the mountains with small villages dotted over the grassy hills;

Eventually we dropped down to the Turkey/Georgian border - a tiny little border crossing on a fairly minor tarmaced Turkish road. It took us an hour to get through the Turkish and Georgian formalaties, but soon we are off on our way into Georgia - this is the route from the border crossing;


The ride from the Georgian border to Tibilis took us around 160km, initially through some very rundown and almost abandonded towns;






We passed many closed and abandoned fuel stations, cafes, shops and hotels. Many of them looked as if they had been used within the last few years - so a fairly recent abandonment.

The roads were very bad - potholed and gravelly, the driving even worse...

The different faces of Tbilisi (Georgia)

Since the break up the USSR, Tbilisi has suffered periods of instability - a brief civil war, mafia confrontations, and air strikes during the 2008 Ossetia war.


Run for the border

With Jack running around most of Thursday trying to get the Azerbaijan visas, the latest status was that he had to return at 10am, then 12pm, then 2pm. Finally at 3pm he returned with the visa's. We stirred from our hotel camp;

Then it was a dash to the Azerbaijan border (we thought it may have opening hours to adhere to)

At the border, we had a message;
We arrived at the border at 6pm, and after some initial gesticulation we started border processing one by one. By 10:30pm, the bikes were all processed - by which time it was pretty much dark. 4 bikes went ahead to the next town to check out dinner possibilities (tonight was meant to be a camp, but the support truck was stuck wasy down the border processing queue).
When the last rider came through, we headed off to meet up with the others.

On arriving in Balakan, we were mobbed by excited locals;

The others were no where to be seen - they had been moved on by the police, in an attempt to avoid creating a crowd.
There was much arm waving by the police, and the a police car arrived to give us a police escort to the town limits !!
Time was pushing on now, so we headed to the next large town, to a similar reception, but this time managed to avoid police attention, and sneak into a diner to eat. 3$ each for a quick dinner and beer, thne off to find a hotel. Bed at last - 1am.

Azerbaijan DHL - our saviour

DHL in Baku had the starter motor for Caroline's Yamaha -West London Yamaha had pulled out the stops to get it sent out for us. Only one problem - it closed at 15:00, and the office was 420km away. So, an early 5:30 am start for us...

The first 100km was very reminiscnet of Northern France - tree lined roads, lush green fields, cattle and sheep. Soon the mountains were upon us - again similar to the drive through France towards the Alps;

The roads and surrounding areas are significantly better kept than Georgia, and even Turkey. There were many monuments and posters of (presumably) the Azer President;

The lush countryside soon gave way to more desert like surroundings, and more and more pipelines strewn over the countryside;

A quick stop for fuel - where we met the friendliest petrol pump attendants in the east;
Azerbaijan has not got away without it's fair share of road building, and we soon found ourselves crossing railway lines where bridges had failed, and riding for miles on end on gravel roads (parallel to a road in progress). Soon enough tho', we were on the outskirts of Baku - an oil town;



Unfortunately, we met Azerbaijans answer to 'Roscoe P Coltrane' (Dukes of Hazzard), who pulled us for 77kph in a 50kph zone - even though we were travelling at the same speed as all the cars!!

After much Russian/English charades, and an attempt to abduct me to take me to the crime scene (leaving Caroline on the side of the road), he finally settled on a 100USD fine each! Once in receipt of the money, he then reached into his 'glove compartment' for his favourite 'Eau d'Toilette' and gave us both a generous squirt, and a flash of his golden teeth !
He then drove down the dual carriageway with us following, his blue lights flashing, at 60kph (remember we were done at 50kph). A stream of traffic was flowing past at at least 80kph. He then stopped about a mile down the road, and pointed out a speed camera, and shouted 50, 50 50.

Finally on our way, we maded it to the DHL office with an hour to spare, and collected the starter motor - hooray!!

Now we have a long wait for the ferry to Turkemnistan....

Wait for the ferry

On route through Baku to the docks, passed this amazing building;

We turned up at the docks at 10am, expecting a long day waiting and boarding the freight ship. We were told the big boss of the docks would arrive at 11am, so it was a chance to nip back into town to change Georgian and Azerbaijan currency.


There was a long wait for the ferry - to be fair we ate and waited, and ate and waited, drank and waited;


Luckily there was a shop to supply us;


At 3pm we were given the go-ahead to load onto the ferry - the railway oil tankers had already been loaded, so it was just a case of rolling onto the ship, and tying down the bikes with whatever straps we had available;

The ferry was pretty grim - basicallt a freight ship from the 50s - but with the bare minimum of up keep since then !
A right old bun fight ensured whilst trying to get cabins, but eventually we were sorted, in our own cabins - sink (no running water), 2 mattresses (complete with years of stains) and a small porthole (very hot). Still, better than I had thought - at least we had some private space.
Also managed to get a quick wander around the bridge;

We had been told to get enough food and water to last 2 days - as there was no clear idea how long the Caspian crossing would take. Luckily there is beer on board, so life is good.


Water, water, water

Awoken by the sound of the anchor being dropped - so we are near Turkmenistan.
We had been warned that the ship may have to wait in the bay until the port was ready to unload. By midday, we had asked on the bridge to discover that bad weather was delaying our docking - but it was a still, calm, sunny day !!

By mid-afternoon, a wind picked up, which was stopping us getting to dock.

There are around 40 passengers on board, one toilet (well, a squat bog) which by now is really quite grim (a stick is being used to push the flusher!!), a small cafe which serves beer, tea and runny fried eggs, and a small lounge with around 50 seats



A 3rd day passes with no progress....

On the morning of the 4th day, we are woken by the sound of an anchor raising - woohoo!!!!!

A day at the docks

The ferry moves towards the dock at Turkmenbashi - our first glimpse of Turkmenistan shows a certain rich facade;

Getting closer to the docks there is one rather splendid motor cruiser amongst the rusting ships;


After some help from a tug to turn the ferry around, we were soon docked.

We sat on board the boat for a further 2 hours whilst some rumours circulated about the Turkmenistan doctor boardin g to check for swine flu (our visas were delayed due to this), but after 2 hours we were summoned one by one to a crew room where our passport numbers and names were entered onto a piece of paper, and we were asked to sign against our names.

We then then descended into the cargo deck, and rode ashore, to be directed to park up in the blazing sun, where we hung around in what little shade there was, whilst our visa, registration and customs documents were processed.

Waiting in this no mans land - no food, no water, no toilets; joy-o-joy


Finally around 5pm, we had all the paper work completed, and we were ready to go...
But, a train was unloading from one of the ships - blocking our way out of nomans land. Still, what's another 30 minutes, when we have spend 4 days to travel 200 miles...

Werner was quite pleased when we got to the hotel;

After 4 days of water - sand, sand, sand

As part of our visa requirements, we needed to be escorted at all times by a Turkmen guide. Ahead of us we had a 600km ride across the Karakum desert - as we had to keep together (and with the truck) a potential 11 hour ride !

First things first - fuel - 15p a litre, thankyou very much. Unfortunately, fuel stations in Turkmenistan sell fuel, and that is that - no water, no food, no oil, etc,
Fortunately, once out of town, the Turkmen escort let us procede at our leisure, so target number 1; water. We stopped in Nebit-Dag (approx 100km from Turkmenbashi) at the first shop we came across - the cafe had no water left, so after some pigeon Russian, and gesticulation, we ended up in the car shop down the street to buy water;



By the time we got back to the bikes, we had created some interest;








For the next 400km we rode in a strong crosswind, blowing sand straight across the road. Together with the 45degC heat, and being sand blasted, it was a difficult choice to ride with jackets (and vents) open or closed;



The desert crossing was occastionally punctuated by the odd camel action;



Captain Jack, commandeered a local ural for a spin;



whilst we sought refuge, with ice cream;



On the 600km trek, we passed through police checkpoints every 50km or so - luckily we were not stopped at any, so our progress to Ashgabat was fairly straight forward.

As lunch time approached, we veered off into a local town, to try and find somewhere for a cold coke - drinking 40deg water was getting rather tiresome;



After miles of desert and ramshackled buildings, we eventually arrived at Ashgabat - the great Turkmen capital - a showcase of white marble, gold, extravagance, and under cover cops;



We stayed in a USSR styled hotel, complete with ladies situated on each floor of the hotel, to serve the guests;




The hotel was situated next to a presidential building, and as such, we were told that we were not allowed to have bedroom windows open, if our rooms looked out onto the street (incase the president passed by)

Ashgabat in pictures















Flaming Nora !!

Due to our Caspian sea episode, we had to get cracking from Ashgabat to Uzbekistan, but first a detour to camp near the flaming craters of Darvasa. The route was a fairly short day, but very very hot across the central part of the Karakum desert - a constant 45degC all day;





We crossed the Karakum Canal - a 1100km long, man-made canal - taking water from the Aral sea;


Petrol stations were few and far between;



Eventually we reached the first of 3 craters - this one filled with boiling water;



Around 7pm we turned off for the gas craters, and set camp for the night;


After lobbing up the tent in double quick time, Caroline and I set off for the gas craters;



The gas crater was created in the mid 50's by the Soviets when drilling for gas - some sort of accident occurred, and the crater has been burning since;












Billy the kid(s) charge camp

After a fantastic evening looking at the stars, it was an early start to try to avoid the worst of the desert heat. A flock of goats helped with the early morning wakeup;





Then it was a charge across the remainder of the Turkenistan Karekum desert to Dashogus.



Escape to Uzbekistan

Today we were to attempt to exit Turkmenistan, and head into Uzbekistan - the border crossing should take a couple of hours, but we were a little apprehensive after our all day affair getting into Turkmenistan.
It was a short 15km ride from Khiva to the Turkmenistan border;


We were ready for this border, so after supplying our wad of doccuments to the border officials, we settled down with books...
After much form filling in duplicate and triplicate, and mucho gusto with the official stamp, after 2 hours we were ready for the the customs check. My technique of only opening panniers when asked to do so, and then ensuring when my side pannier was opened, the contents spilled out, meant the customs people got bored very quickly, and waved me through.

So, through no-mans land to Usbekistan;

Some more form filling, this time with extremely freindly and fun customs officials and we were through within an hour.

Entering Uzbek was like a breath of fresh air - after the (seeming) opression of Turkmenistan. People were working the cultivated fields, there was a bustle of activity - agricultural machinery, people tending fields, padi fields with rice, crops in fields, etc.

After a relatively short ride we entered the Silk Route town of Khiva;




Were we met the most friendly and entrepenerial of kids; some of home were exremely business like - selling water from small cabinets outdside their houses - again, very different and refreshing from Turkmenistan;

We also changed money - 100USD is about a 6cm wad of local notes - each note worth about 40pence;

The start of the Silk Route (Uzbekistan)

Today was going to be another long crossing of the Karkum desert - 300 miles. The initial part including some rather precarious barge river crossings;

We stopped at the edge of the desert to cram our tanks with fuel - luckily there were locals available to hand pump fuel for us;

The fuel station had a rather delightful toilet (I'll spare you the inside photo - although it will be on flickr...);


Then it is was onto the desert crossing;

You can imagine the delight we had when came across one of several police checkpoints, where, in 42degC heat, we had to have our documents examined, and have photos taken, and chat with the friendly police;


We stopped at a small group of buildings - the first we had seen across 160 miles of desert for a coke and some food;

But decided against having food;


Soon we arrived at Bhukara, our second town on the silk route - a similar architecture to Khiva, but a little more lived in, and touristy;

Service day

Today is a day off in Bhukara - a chance to put new tyres on the bikes, service and change the oil;

Mmmm dominos pitza - student days...

After a hot day off changing tyres and servicing the bikes, we got invited to a local's house for a traditional dinner of Pilaf - rice, carrots, and 3 pieces of tender mutton (spot the cooker in the corner of the yard). A very interesting evening chatting to the Uzbeks, and finding out more about their way of life - it's hard to believe that the 45C summer heat drops to -15C in winter! Even though Korean car maket Daewoo have built a new factory in Uzkekistan, it seems that with many factories closes post-USSR-break-up, many Uzbek men search for work in Russia and Kazakstan. The other main export seems to be raw cotton - the fields are full of cotton plants.
Today was a short, and fairly boring ride from Bhukara to Samarkand - still the miles need to be done.

After the desert and farm-fields that we have seen so far, Samarkand was a complete surprise - tree lined boulevards, in what is a big university city;
As student towns go, we were please to find a local (ahem) domino pizza;
Our hotel for the evening was also rather nice;
As it was a fairly boring day, the mind wanders;
1: $100USD changes to 175000 som, all in 25pence notes...
2: Filling 3 tanks of petrol costs, around 48000 som - it takes us some time to count and recount the 96 notes

Mountains, so close, but so far (Tashkent)

Only a few more days until we are away from the desert and into the mountains of Krygystan. We thought we may get into some Uzbek mountains, but it was just a dangling carrot. Instead the temperature stayed around the 42 mark;
Still, at least we have the first pool of the trip;

Snowy Krygystan mountains, and the fastest border crossing in the east!

Leaving Tashkent was a mission, 3 lane city centre roads turned into 6 or 7 lane grand prix starts from the traffic light. The Lada and Daewoo drivers vying for the lead position, whilst trying to take photos of us using their camera phones. Needless to say it was a dangerous place to ride a motorcycle.

Soon we were out of Taskent and buzzing along through miles and miles of cotton fields. Cruising speed was 80kph - after several people had been stopped for speeding the previous day - with various results some bargaining down the fines, and others calling the bluff of the 'officer' dishing out the 'fine'.

After 200 miles we had been stopped 5 times at various police checkpoints - sometimes passport details were logged, othertimes, the officers were just interested in who we were, and what we were doing. It was getting a little tiresome tho'.

Soon we were up into the mountain, and through a heavily militiarised zone - armed solidiers on the entrance and exit to the various crumbling tunnels through the mountains.
Heavy snow must fall in this region during the winter, as there was evidence of avalanche barriers; the temperature was dropping as we climbed, from 42 at the low level, to around 25 at 2000m. I zipped my jacked up for the first time in about 2 weeks!

All to soon we were approaching the Krygystan border, so we had an attempt to rid our selves of the last 48000 Som - petrol was the easiest option, and even that was a challenge with the over enthusiastic pump attendants.

The border crossing was a relative joy ! 30 minutes or so to fill in customs declaration forms, get our passports stamped, and vehicle export details logged. Then it was into Krygystan - a quick passport stamp, and that was it! Fantastic, getting into Krygystan is akin to getting into Europe !!

Only 10km from the border and we entered Osh - our stop for the night.

Into the snowy mountains

After bangers and mash cooked in the hotel car park, we were ready for a good trail ride into the snowy Krygystan mountains.



A quick 100km from Osh and we are soon at the foot of the mountain range.

Climbing the gravel trail, we were soon amongst the nomadic farmers;



The scenery was awesome;






After 100km, we found a clearing inbetween the mountain ranges for a camp - tonights menu - Chicken Madras :-)


Peaking at 3200m

Leaving bright and early we had a 100km gravel track ride towards Lake SomKul, it was not an incident free ride...



First John had an off on his Tenere, the engine guard protected the water pump, but still caused a small crack in the clutch case - remedied overnight with chemical metal. Then Dave suffered a sheared subframe bolt, leaving his rear fuel tank, seat, panniers and topbox precariously hanging of the footrest mounts.
Then, on the long decent down, we came across a local in a car who had cracked his sump on a rock, so whilst Dave replaced his sheared bolt with some bush-manufactured replacements, we set about repairing the locals sump with chemical metal;
Once all repairs were done, we had a quick wash and a bite to eat;

So, the long climb from 1800m to 3200m to Lake SomKul;



The trek along the lakeside (although marked as a road) turned quickly from trail to cattle trail;




But we soon located somewhere suitable to camp, then the race was on, to get food cooked before the sun went down;
And when it went down, boy was it cold;
By the time we had finished eating, the temperature had dropped to 3degC, and with a complete lack of firewood, there was little left to do, except go to bed.

Lake SomKul - 3200m

As soon as the sun began to rise, and the temperature began to rise, it was time to get up and get going (although, not until John had his early morning swim - brrrr);



The ride around the lake was something else, fantastic trails on the surprisingly agile bikes and jaw dropping scenery - what more could you ask for;



All too soon, we returned to the gravel trail for the ride back to the road, and eventually to Bishkek.



Next stop, Kazakstan...

Running the police gauntlet to Issy Kul

With a slight delay getting the visa's for Kazakstan, we would be detained in Bishkek for another couple of days.
So, time for some repairs - Caroline's pannier frame weld had broken (no idea why ;-) ), so it was off to find a local welder;

A quick gander through Bishkek to admire the sights;

We decided to head off to a 'Beach Resort' on Lake Issy Kul for a change of scenery, on route out we spotted this 'house' being built - out of shipping containers;



The 160km route from Bishkek to Issy Kul was a mission, avoiding speed traps - whilst not really knowing what the speed limits where (not many speed signs). We opted to follow local cars at their speed, so imagine our surprise when we got pulled for speeding - after a good old argument, and getting the copper to speed check some other vehicles (which he did not stop), we were allowed on our way - without paying a fine.
Others in the group were also stopped with varying degrees of success.

Once at the beach resort - we attempted to 'fit in';




After hi-de-hi time, a few beers, a bikini photo shoot (don't ask!!) and a good nights sleep. We returned along same road back to Bishkek. On the return leg, I counted 10 speed traps - some more sneaky than others. Again we used the tactic of hanging behind local cars - several of them getting pulled for speeding - the last one we followed that got pulled, also tryed to pull us over, but a 'heads left' meant we didn't see (ahem) the officer trying to wave us over - success !!

A gruelling day of avoiding the police, but I guess good practice for Kazakstan and Russia !!

Kazakstan - a new world

A realtively straight forward border crossing from Krygystan to Kazakstan - in fact you could see the petrol station and cafe in Kazakstan from the Krygy side - there was an almost non-existant no-mans land.
So, onto the road - and bliss - smooth tarmac, speed limit signs, and good driving - just like being in Europe. In fact over the 200km journey from the border to Almaty, I could count the number of Lada's on one hand, and certainly no ex-soviet rust buckets. The vast majority of cars on the roads are similar to what you would see anywhere in western Europe - I guess the black gold has been good to Kazakstan. Although similar black gold is available to the Turkemistan people, I guess that gold was converted into communist white marble and gold extravagance.

The ride through Kazakstan (although only about 50km in a parallel from the ride from Bishkek to Issy Kul) was totally different to the Bishkek to Issy Kul, the Krygy side was green and full of villages, the Kazak side of the mountain range was brown and deserted;

Fewer police checks and no hidden speed checks in Kazakstan (hoorah), although I did manage to get a warning from a police road check as I'd been caught in the radar trap at 33kph in a 20kph limit - you try riding at 20kph; I almost needed outriggers to keep the bike upright!!
Approaching Almaty, the now familiar snow capped mountains loom over the city.

Charyn Canyon

After a great night out with our new DHL friend Almira - who went beyond the job role to get our tyres through customs, we awoke bright and early for a trip to Charyn Canyon;
Unfortunately (or fortunately) we spotted a cracked weld on one of the Motech pannier frames - so we took all the pannier frames off and left them with the hotel reception, with a note for Ian and John to try and get them welded for us - cheers!

So, a little later than anticipated we headed off for the canyon, on approach the view was a scaled down Grand Canyon;





The big difference being that we could ride the bikes into the canyon - the descent into the canyon was rather hairy - especially on tall trail bikes - Tim was on hand to help Caroline down (as he wisely decided not to attempt the descent on the bike 1200 BMW);
Once in the canyon, we forgot about the ascent we would have to attempt, and enjoyed the scenery;




With the heat in the canyon increasing, we returned for the big climb out;
Wern went first, and with the help of long legs, made it out with minimal effort, old stumpy legs here managed about 80% to the top, and then lost traction, but with a helping hand got to the top. Scott and Caroline made a sterling attempt, and with some pushing and pulling we got everyone to the top;







On arrival back at the hotel, we were welcomed with 3 sets of newly welded pannier frames - top effort !

So, now we start the 3 day wildnerness ride North through Kazakstan, and into Russia.

The Kazak interior

After messing around for an hour and a half trying to get Kazak temporary residency registration at the hotel (required for exit from Kazakstan), we got cracking across the Kazak interior. It was a breath of fresh air to see the Kazak enjoying 'proper' recreation - jetski's, offroad trail riding and lot's of camping by lakesides. A quick stop for a coke break, and we spotted the local takeaway delivery driver;
Continuing though the interior, over small hill ranges and plains, there were a handful of small villages straddling the road;

After a couple of hours, we pulled over at a yurt-cafe, for shashlik.




Eventually,we pulled over at the designating camp, and were soon met by 3 Germans who were travelling a similar route but in the opposite direction;

Finally, we located a camp by the river;


Soaring eagles over the Kazak Steppe

Today was always going to be a long day - we made it longer to try and ease the passage over the Russian border, so 760km over the Kazak Steppe was the plan.





For miles and miles across the Kazak Steppe we were swooped by soaring eagles - impressive;

Amongst the vastness there were only a handful of settlements;


a large number of dried lakes but the the odd lake was a welcome site;
The road became rougher and rougher, with plenty of big bumps to catch the unwary, and indeed the KTM pannier racks suffered, luckily a roadside garage was available to attempt (ahem) to weld the offending break.

Only one police incident today (!), whilst chasing the other Tenere Team across the steppe I was flashed by a couple of comedy coppers in a dilapidated Lada police car. The car slide to a halt in the dust on the opposite side of the road and swung a U-turn behind me. I upped the pace to 95 kph and lost them :-) It came to light later, that the 'Blues Brothers' were flashing over bikers, just to say hello. Oops.

Pressing ontowards the Russian border and we came across the largest town we had seen in several days - a horrible industrial town called Semey;

Within reach of the Russian border, we located a lovely campsite in the sandy pine woods. Tim timed a tumble almost perfectly to avoid cooking - but we all saw through the flaky facade.




So, tomorrow a Russian border crossing - place your bets as to how long it will take (and how much it will cost!!)

Russian efficiency

Another early start - leaving camp at 6:30 meant we were at the border around 7am, a very efficient, and modern Kazak border and we were through within the hour - looking good !
Then we headed for the rough barrier marking the Russian side of no mans land. And we queued, and we waited. And we waited, and we waited. Lovely place (ahem) no shade,infact no nothing! A few bikes went through to the Russian passport control, but we remained queued up. At about 1pm we got let into the Russian passport control, where we were stamped into the country, then we entered the long process to get the bikes temporarily imported. By 3pm we were out of the border and into the insurance shop to purchase bike insurance - £16 for 12 months road insurance.
So, finally into the Russian Altai - woohoo.

The first town we entered - Rubtsovsk, was really pretty grim, and rough town full of dilapitdatd apartment blocks, knackered roads, and even more knackered cars. The clouds were black, and we experienced only the 2nd downfall of the trip - and boy did it rain. The knackered roads filled with muddy water, but we ploughed on. Almost on the outskirts of town the rain stopped, and we were onto perfect tarmac roads across wheat fields. In fact, for the next 200 miles we kept on the same road, travelling through the same enormous wheat fields, until we closed in on Barnaul.

On the outskirts of Barnaul, we came up behind an estate car containing 5 skin head blokes, the front passenger was waving around a revolver, pointing it out of the window into the fields, the car weaved behind a truck, until it undertook on the gravel verge. Needless to say we hung back, and let him go his own way.

Finally in Barnaul, we quickly located 'Hotel Barnaul' and grim loooking, huge communist hotel. Lucklily it was far more pleasant on the inside. Again with hotel receptionists on each of the 12 floors - another kick back from communist times.

So, rest day, to check the bikes over before the long haul across Mongolia, and a restock for food, and general supplies.

No more updates unil Ulaan-Baatar....

Stunning Scenery in the Russian Altai

Leaving Barnaul we quickly got onto the M52 which started as a dual carriageway but quickly entered the Russian Altai, and the scenery improved no end. In fact, safe to say it was a lovely ride with stunning scenery.
We took a little detour to Pesnoe, to take a view of the river downstream of the Altai hills;



On route we spotted a small football stadium on the edge of the village;;



The Altai region itself revealed itself as a top recreation location for the Russians;




Riding through the hills we came across small villages containing small ramshackled wooden houses and rickety bridges;




Finally the wild camp by the river for the evening;


A lovely ride, highly recommended.
Tomorrow, the Mongolian border, and our first Ger Camp.

Green Russian hills to Mongolian wilderness


200 miles of Russian Altai to ride before the Monglian border - the roads were wet, but the rain held off, but it was certainly chilly.





As we approached the Russian border, there several military establishments - one airfield, and a large radar base;


Nestling in the distance beyond the Altai hills were snow capped mountains, and scandinavian-esque rivers;




A relatively quick Russian border crossing of 1.5 hours and we were straight into 15 miles of no-mans land;
Russian side;


Mongolian side;


No-mans land ended at a small mongolian town;


After a couple of hours negotiating the border crossing (and avoiding customs officials trying to change roubles to mongolian Tenge (at very poor rates), we stopped off at the local cafe;





With nightfall a couple of hours away, we set up camp for the evening;


The 'main' track to Olgii

A short trek on the 'main' track to Olgii took us up over a small range of hills - summitting at 2600m.


On route we came across many Marmottes (?) running for cover in their burrows;


Surprisingly, the other wildlife we came across (apart from goats, and cattle), were camels !?



So into Olgii, and a restock of supplies ready for the next 1000 miles of Mongolian wilderness to Ulaanbaatar.
And our Ger for the night;

Commander Jack issues the command dive dive dive

Leaving Olgiy we headed on the piste towards the lake at Aocit Nuur, the trail started rocky and followed the river;



Before long the piste became multi track across the plains;





The sandy tracks took some early casualties;




A quick lunch break before the main rvier crossing of the day, the locals were still crossing, then Grant went to check the depth;



For the actual crossing the techniques varied quite wildly;





The YouTube video will be posted soon of 'Commander Jack' issuing the 'dive command' - but for now a photo will have to do;


Whilst Wern dewatered the bike, the riders dried their feet;




After a few more tired riders tasted the sand, we arrived at a small town for fuel;




Leaving the town for the camp, we came across a local mongul horse race;

Mongolia - Wild !!!

A long 220 miles across the middle of Mongolia, before we left we had a camp visit by some curious locals;
Day 1 across the middle of Mongolia, and there is a lot of.....Nothing.
We did locate one brine lake alongside a dried lake;

Scott felt a little tired at lunch;




Finally we came across a local town to allow a refuel before finding camp;





Stunt day on the Mongolian Plains

Another 200 mile day on the Mongolian Plains - the scenery turned green, with trees covering the hillside, cattle, yaks, sheep and goats covering the plains;










Just before lunchstop, Bob 'Kneviel' Mears, tried unsuccessfully to spin the trailer 360 degrees around the tow hitch. It was suspected that the extra weight of the TIm's GS1200 in the trailer resulted in the 90 degree spin. Luckily a Russian Uaz 4x4 van was available with a tow rope to put the trailer back on its wheels.

The route to Tosungul City was a multi-lane highway;
Tosungul City:





Before Scott distroyed his bike any further with his attempts to outdo the 4x4 stuntmaster (his airbourne activities resulted in a dislocated topbox and tool holder), we located camp;


Mongolian Wilderness

After leaving the National Park where we camped (only discovered this after the Park Ranger somehow found us (bush radio I guess)), the roads started off quick and graded;
But quickly swapped back to rough and ready;






The scenery was quite surprising, a lot more like Canada than how I imagined Mongilia to be.

The roads caught several of us out with several light crashes and an almighty save by Del.

We stopped for a brief lunch of minced mutton in pasta parcels in a small town near to the gorge





On approach to Tsetserleg, we split off to a lovely little Ger camp set into the hillside.
Here we met the security-man/handy-man who showed us into his Ger tent where he was rebuilding his motorbike inside the Tent - how that reminded us of student days. He was struggling with his limited supply of tools, so a quick rummage in our tool boxes helped him out with a socket set to remove the cylinder from his engine.
After a quick shower we went back to his Ger to check on the engine removal progress - the poor chap was now struggling , using the thread of a bolt to try to hook a circlip out of the piston. A few seconds with one of our Leatherman multi-tools and he had removed the circlip; amazing how these guys struggle with whatever limited resources they have available.

By the time we left in the morning, his bike was back up and running - fab!!

Ulaan Bataar at last

After a 1000 miles on dirt roads crossing Mongolia, we finally arrive at Ulaan Bataar.
Here are some pictures from the road journey today - even blog-man needs a rest sometimes;

(Spot the dog in the box on the car roof)









So, a couple of days rest in Ulaan Bataar, then we head back into Russia, to navigate around China to Vladivostock.

Mongolia - the finale

After almost a week of great wilderness tracks crossing Mongolia from Russian border to UlaanBaatar we shacked up at the Oasis Cafe for a few days - truely an Oasis in the middle of a bustling city;



UlaanBaatar was a time to hangout in internet-bars, booking flights across the Pacific, catching up with bits-and-bobs, and wandering the motor-markets;






After resting in UlaanBaatar for a couple of days, the fnal push through Mongolia towards the Russian border was like riding through a different country - tar road all the way; no potholes, no roadworks, no diversions, no sand, no tracks - boring really! Luckily the scenery made up for it - rolling hills, trees, and grass;

But with tar comes road tolls - at 20pence a time, the only problem being, we had been trying to rid ourselves of our Mongolian Togrogs. Grant and Tim had been so successful at spending up their left over currency, they had to either blag their way through the tolls for free, or overpay with US dollars;

Also. after 3 days of heavy rain storms in UlaanBaatar, the weather also returned to the georgous sunny days we have become use to - bonus !

Approaching the Russian border we travelled through Suhbaatar, a small (possibly ex-) industrial town;





Expecting a long border crossing back into Russia, we set up camp within sight of the road to the border (the dirt track on the hill);

Who needs an alarm when you have a machine gun!!

The fun all starts when you camp too close to a border....
At 3am Grant was woken by a tap-tap-tap outside his tent, on opening his tent he found a girl in military trousers sat outside his tent, after a bit of broken conversation she eventually left - innocent enough.
At 5am we hear a diesel vehicle driving through camp, then some voices - Mongul and English, then we discover the Mongolian Military are examining each tent - armed with a machine gun ! I'm still not entirely sure what went on, but can only assume that the Mongolian military were looking for the girl !

Anyway, with everyone well and truely awake, we had an early breakfast, and made for the border. Arriving at 7am, we discovered a huge queue of mini-buses, so we took our place behind. At 8am, the border opened and we jumped/'were ushered' to the front of the queue, and into Mongolian border control - after a 'round-the-houses' visit to various desks/windows/people we were all stamped, and ready to enter no-mans land.

At this point I became aware of several huge-bodied people all with small heads and arms!! Two such ladies were busily fastening each others bursting corsets - how odd! It quickly became apparanet after chatting to others in the group who had witnessed the pre-border dressing, that these people were wearing multiple layers of clothes (i.e. 5 or 6 pairs of jeans, with other pairs of jeans sellotaped around their waist. The same multi-layering applied to their upper body. The conclusion, was that they were 'smuggling' chinese clothes into Russia !! It all seemed a fairly accepted process - as the people would hardly have won prizes for concealment.

So, with all the stamps in place on our slips of paper, just one hurdle remained - the final check that all the correct stamps had been correctly collected. At this point we were asked for 200 Roubles - for what, we don't know. Scott (at the front of the queue) used Italian and Afrikanse to communicate (ignoring English), and there was a standoff over a good 5 minutes, until he quickly had the brain wave, to assume the potential contribution to the border guard christmas party fund, was for insurance, so he flashed his Mongolian Insurance document to the border guard. At this stage, I think the border guard gave up with the money extortion, and let us on our way..

So, through a very short no-mans land, and to the Russian border control - this chap left his sense of humour behind this morning, and closed the gates as we arrived ! So, we sat at the gate for several minutes until he returned, and let 4 of us through the gate, and sent the rest back to Mongolia, to wait to be summoned into Russian border control at his command.

Once through to Russian passport and customs control, the process was realtively quick - a mere couple of hours, and soon we were into the local town of Kyakhta.

With everyone safely through, we rode through town - a heavily militarised town; marching solidiers, army barracks, and plenty of soldiers milling around the place. Quickly through town, we had scenic ride through pine forests, and silver birch woods to Ulan-Ude, passing the odd scenic lake enroute;

Lake Baikal

The day started with some excited Russian airhostesses, who found Tim's big bike particularly exciting;
Once the excitement had died down, we headed off for a quick day trip to Lake Baikal - holder of 1/5 of the worlds fresh water, we were very quickly out of the city limits of Ulan-Ude, and were rewarded with great views over the feed rivers, with dense silver birch forests onall sides;



Enroute, we passed the local 'Territorial Army' out on their rounds;
We chose a more interestijng route to the lake, along some farm tracks;



The lake itself provided an excellent laundrette for John, who seemed to have found a muddy puddle to wallow in on route;




After the obligatory swim, we headed to the largest town on the south shore of the lake, but instead of some sort of lakeside resort, we only found a small ramshackle town, where the railroad had the prominent postion overlooking the lake. Nevermind, I guess the Victorians were not around to build piers for the Russkis !
At least we found a suana (banya) for some lunch;

So tomorrow, we start an 8 day trip through Siberia to Vladivostock - so no more updates for at least a week.

Into Siberia - watch out Mozzies, we're ready for you.....

A quick picture of an impressive Lenin head in Ulan-Ude

The first day of the trans-siberia highway, and what a day; fantastic scenery - silver birch forests, pine forests, lakes, hills - lovely - let''s hope after another 2400 miles, we still think the same...



Camp for the evening is a cracking introduction for the rest of Siberia - mosquitos and silver birch;





Siberia - hundreds and hundreds of miles of nothing.... well beautiful pine forest covered hills

Another fantastic day covering miles and miles Siberian wooded hillside (with the odd meadow imbetween);

360 miles was the target, and to start with the first 100 miles were on perfect new tarmac roads,although we had to throttle back as we were running low on fuel - there really was a lot of nothing!! 90km running on reserve fuel, and we finally located a fuel station - just as well, as there were very few stations after that one.

Whilst meandering the Siberan hills, the old brain started working, and we recalculated the amount of Roubles required to buy fuel to get us the 2400km to Vladivostock, so we diverted to Chernyshevsk to get cash;



After a quick refill of fuel, Caroline led the way, with instructions to stop at the next roadside cafe. After 130 miles of gravel roads and rough broken, potholed dirt tracks, she finally stoppped on a new bridge crossing a river;

Hungry and thirsty, we shared the water and raisins we had, then set off again. Within 300m around the very next hill, was a cafe and fuel station!!

Trans Siberian Highway 4 - 0 Round The World Tour

Another 350 miles of the Trans Siberian highway, and it certainly took it out of us...
The first 60 miles were half gravel - half road building, and it rained, nice. Riding down one hill, the road looked wet, little did we no it was fresh wet tar! When we pulled into the fuel station, it became very apparent that it was wet tar;

Round1;
Unfortunatley, the tar got the better of Caroline, as she decided to enter the auditions for 'Its a knockout' by slinging her bike down the road in the wet tar - result, one tar covered bike, trousers, jacket, gloves - all she needed now was the goose feather!

Ding-ding, round2
After refueling, we carried along the gravel highway, and came across Captain Jack and a badly dented front rim - it seems a bridge got the better of him.

Ding-ding round3
Still no sign on any shops or cafes, and another 200 miles completed, and still on the gravel/broken-tar/road-works road, and a slight altercation between a Tenere and a Russian Lada - unfortuantely the Tenere came off slightly worse - another bent front wheel.

Ding-ding round4
Now travelling with extreme caution (!) we continued for another 100 odd miles, and came across Del with a collapsed rear shock, luckily he had a spare one on the truck, so it was a simple case of a roadside replacement;

With all of the days mishaps out of the way, it was time to navigate the M55-M56 junction;



This junction is around 20miles from China, so I guess it will be a future trade road to China.

Finally the luxury camp for the night - a gravel pit;

A last obersvation about the traffic on the trans-siberian highway, the most popular vehicle on the highway are japanese cars being driven on transit registration plates from Vladivostock to Central-Asia/Central-Europe for general sale. These cars are all covered with cardboard/tape/plastic-sheeting as protection from the stone chips/dust. So be warned about buying Jap-import cars...

Shake rattle and roll on the Siberian Highway

The gravel pit campsite was actually pretty good - not many mosquitoes!!
Another day on the Siberian Highway - and more of the same, terrible roads - bikes and bodies would be taking another battering over the day's 350 odd miles.





Still, at least there were fuel stations every 100 miles or so - but that was about it. Next to no Cafe or shops (and no the petrol stations sell nothing but petrol);


The highway was finally closed just North of Svobodnyy, so a 40km detour along some beautiful roads;




Back on the main Siberian Highway, we luckily came across a canteen used by the flocks of transit drivers driving Japanese import cars - and the food was great, although whilst pointing and gesticulating to get our chosen food, we had to resort to the old 'PING' sound whilst pointing, to make sure the food would be warmed for us!

Finally we arrived at camp - a mosquito infested site ! NICE !!

Siberian Mosquitos win - we're off with our tails between our legs

After a fantastic Pork loin in mustard and white wine sauce cooked by Caroline (guess what was left on the truck - and we had to sneak the wine away from the boozers!), the moquitoes moved in for the kill;


So, nothing left but to go to bed early!
By morning, the mist had come down, but still the mozzies were biting;
Scott refused to leave his tent, and rang for his butler for 'tent service' to get his morning coffee;

Soon on the road, now complete with more mozzie bites around our necks (everything else is covered with biker gear), the sun came out;
Infact, the roads improved (to tarmac), and cafe's and shops started to appear - woohoo;

For the next 200 miles, we crossed basically one big swamp (mozzies), so rather than camp again, the majority of us split off from the expedition, and sought out a hotel in Khabarovsk - luxury !!

Khabarovsk - what a great city; more European than Russian! We met up at the local 'Harley Davidson Bar' to a very friendly reception, and had a great evening with plenty of beer and some new friends.

A rain lashed dash to Vladivostock

A great night out at the local bar was perfect preparation for a 800km dash to Vladivostock - luckily (as it turned out) the road was 98% tar.

We left in the drizzle, and slowly it turned to rain, the rain got heavier and heavier, and the going was becoming more and more treacherous - especially with badly worn tyres.

When it became obvious that the rain was not going to ease, Scott and Caroline decided to stop in a bus shelter to change to waterproof liners (smug me, was nice and dry :-))

The 800km to Vlad took 12 hours - all in the p155ing rain ! We had a quick stop for a sashlik kebab at a small roadside cafe with a black bear in a cage (poor thing), and stopped for fuel, but that was about it.

We were stopped by one police checkpoint for a document check, which was particularly pleasant in the pouring rain. Nevertheless we stripped layers of waterproof cloothing to locate the dry documents, and left a nice big wet puddle in the middle of their police station - justice :-)

Getting closer and closer to Vladivostock, and the roads became busier, with more and more flash cars - mainly big 4x4 cars (Lexus, LandCruiser,etc), hi-performance jap cars (Subaru, Evo, etc) and luxury jap cars. Infact the only people driving Lada and Volga's seem to be the the local police :-)

We arrived at Hotel Vladivostock too late to get a room, but luckily Simon had one booked so we dossed down on the floor for the evening.

A day with the Vlad Iron Tigers

After a wet run to Vlad, a dry morning welcomed us, and the first task was to locate somewhere to get some more welding done (not to my bike :-) )
So, after wandering through Valdivostock on a wild goose chase searching for a bike shop, we were approached by a chap in a 4x4 who told us to follow him to a bike shop. After a wild chase through he streets trying to keep up with him, we ended up in a yard where the 'Iron Tigers' reside. These great guys provided free jet washing for us, and helped us out with welding (especially Olgi)





The Iron Tigers had just returned from a 500km quad bike adventure in the Siberian mountains - fab!!

Whilst bolting the welded frames back onto the bikes, we had a text that the bikes had to be in customs the following morning at 9am ready for shipment to Korea, so it was a mad dash back to the hotel, to change 3 sets of tyres, and get ready for shipment;

It never rains but it pours

So, down to the port at 9am, and it was pouring down, lashing down, or just plain old p155ing down. To minimise the amount of carry on luggage, most of our riding gear was stashed in the panniers on the so, it was a very wet ride for the the couple of km to the port.
Once there, we sat dripping for a good hour, to get the initial paperwork sorted, then it was a splish and a splosh down to some other wretched customs building to get the registration details recorded;

Mr Customs decided it was too wet for him to check this, so he sent us on our way with instructions to return later at 1pm. And at 1pm, to return the next morning at 9am!!

At least this gave us some more time to search Vladivostock for a new front wheel :-(

The Russian Rivieria

Another day, and another trip to the docks - this time we got the bikes onto the quay side - another small milestone.


Then it was a quick wander around town ogling the georgeous girls (not me of course), before settling down at the beach with a beer, and a reality check;

In addtion to the bathing beauties, the was plenty of chess playing, and a russian version of 'muscle-beach' - thes guys know how to enjoy the beach;

Whilst Tim and John strolled off for a swim; we settled into a second beer.

Whilst enjoying the sights of the beach a police van appeared, it seemed a little strange as the only thing close by was a rather large queue for the pedlo's. Over the next hour there was a fair bit of police/military movement, but nothing rushed. Intrigued, I wondered down to the beach, and unfortunately discovered a drowned body lieing face up on the beach - there was nothing covering the body (or head) and no-one close by (except the police office standing 10m away). There was no taping off of the scene, no commotion, no nothing; in fact joe-public continued swimming only metres away.

On a lighter subject, we had a great send-off from Vladivostock - a rowdy night in the local pizzeria; a place frequented by very glamerous girls (ladies of the night?? who knows? anyone?), and well off russian locals. And us. I think the waitresse were a little surprised when the Iron Tigers arrived on the scene and aided by some well lubricated English/NZ/SA motorcyclists turned the pizzeria into some sort of rock festival - there were some sore heads in the morning...

Cruising on the New Dong Chun

The morning after the night before; and we were meant to be at the dockside at 9:30 to unlock the bikes and back again at 12:30 to check in. This proved difficult for one member of the group who had still not arrived back to the hotel from the previous night...

Nevertheless, the issue was worked around, and the bikes were all loaded on the 'New Dong Chun'

It was a nervous time - the last time we boarded a boat for an overnight sailing, it took us 3 days to get off. By 3pm we were finally borded - after waiting in a sweat box room in the depths of the sea terminal for several hours.

Being a Korean vessel, there were of course no seats on the boat, apart from the restaurant - which was open from 18:00 to 18:45 and 07:00 to 07:30. Precisely.

I'm not normally on to photograph food, but dinner was special - a plate containing a cutlet, gravy, 20 cold baked beans, 12 pieces of pasta, 2 gerkins, some cabbage, and fruit salad!! All served with rice and kimchi (pickled vegetables)

The scenery leaving Vladivostock was stunning - a great way to leave Russia;



Korea - a milestone

After a pleasant night on the boat, we arrived at Sokcho, Korea;



Before being let off the boat, we were checked by the quarantine department - an electronic thermometer against the back of the ear.. Once off the boat, we very quickly cleared passport control and customs - all going well...

After an hour or so, we then reboarded the boat to remove the bikes, and move them into the customs warehouse;

Where they remained for the next 6 hours. Meanwhile, we waited in the terminal building;

Even the customs guys were getting bored, and started a game of table tennis in the building;

But eventually, we were on our way - into Korea;

Spies, damn spies and vegetable patches

The BBQ dinner at the up-market Korean hotel complete with 'Mama-Mia' playing at full blast on a huge TV screen was brought to an abrubt halt when the storms arrived very quickly - first the TV screen was blown out by the wind, quickly followed by the BBQ tents, and buffet displays. The brits kept the composure and continued to eat whilst chaos rained all around - holding onto beer glasses and plates.



Riding south from Sokcho the next morning, we saw more evidence of general precautions against the sudden storms - lashed trees;




From the coast line we took a lovely little detour up into the mountains in Naksan Provincial Park, a fantastic roller coaster climb from sea level to 1000m in only a few miles, snaking up throught the treelined roads. At the top, an image that would soon become common place, crops planted on almost every inch of level ground;


In fact as the day wore on, we marvelled at the meticulous crop fields that crammed into tiny valleys and were planted hard up to the road edge. Everywhere;

A further climb up the mountain to some monument or other (with a budda)...



After a fantastic blast on the twisties down the mountain, we got back to the coast road, where the barbed wire fences we had read about (to keep North Korean's out), were on prominent display, complete with military personnel armed with machine guns!!




Unification park (on the coast) contained a North Korean submarine, captured in the mid 90's of the South Korean coast - this sub is 35m long, and was manned by 30 men!

A little bittle of luxury for lunch - no kimchi, and no seafood in sight, all in view of the beach;

We'd enjoyed the roads a little too much today, and crawled into the hotel in the dark - and guess what was playing - bleedin' Abba...

Korean Hills Rollercoaster Ride

Today was going to be a quick hop across the country from East to West, but with great scenery and fantastic biking roads, you just have to stretch the day out - and we did.

But first, it was a trip to find a bike shop to try and get a new front rim, but no luck;




We left Daegu city, and headed cross country into the hills - we were rewarded with more tight twisty roads, covered with perfect grippy tarmac, all topped off with fabulous views of mountains, small korean villages, and acres upon acres of perfectly manicured vegetable fields;




Rather than heading more-or-less directly to Jeonju, we turned south through DeoGyusan National Park, and headed for the ski resort of Muju - a steep, low altitude ski resort, with a couple of dozen runs, but far more accomodation than a couple of dozen runs would warrant;



Leaving the Muju presented us with a rollercoaster bike ride down the mountain, then up the mountain, then across the mountain, up, down, across - it just kept on coming and coming - great fun. Soon, it was time to try and track west and head for Jeonju, working off a tourist map, printed solely in Korean characters, the obvious road to take was still south of us, so we chose the next 'west-looking' road. This seemed to work, out until the road just ended in a boulder strewn dirt track - still the signs looked correct;


We stopped to ask a local for directions, and after much pointing and gesticulation we think we were on the correct route, so pressed on. We passed through a number of small korean hamlets (all meticulously well kept - of course), and eventually came onto the correct road. So, all that was left to end a great day, was a blast down the dual carriageway to Jeonju;

Packing up to cross the Pacific

Yesterday was a pleasant blast up the country to Seoul - we avoided the main routes, instead diverting through the farming areas, and a couple of National Parks - again beautiful riding.
Approaching Seoul was a pain - it's a huge city (the 5th largest in the world), and things are not made any easier as motorbikes are not allowed on the motorways - and guess where the main signposts for Seoul point to!!!

Anyway, we pretty much made it ok, we had a slight 'diversion' to Incheon (about 20km west of Seoul), and it poured with rain for the last couple of hours - the last couple of hours were all the approach to Seoul. Anyway, we made it.

So, off to the packers.
We were due at around 3pm, we were told it was about a 15km ride, which would take around 1 hour. So we left nice and early - 1:30.

We had a GPS waypoint for the packers. and a GPS track that 'should' be ok to follow. We missed a subtle left fork in the road, but no problems there - we would simply hook back up with the track further on. Little did we know we were entering Seouls equivalent of 'Spaghetti' junction, flyovers, underpasses, one-way roads, bridges - and the worst thing was that we still needed to get over the river to the south-side!!

Anyway, we managed to get back on track, and hadn't really lost much time, in fact, things were looking grand.

2km to go, the waypoint was right on the nose, then BAM - we were suddenly on a motorway, heading for bleeding Incheon again !! We passed a number of highway workers who stared at us (nothing new there), who seemed to be in some sort of state of shock.

So, 5km, 10km, 20km and still no off ramp, 25km and we arrived at the toll booth, and what a reception - fluorescent jackets everywhere, poilce cars - you name it; we had caused a bit of a stir... One of the police officers put me on a mobile phone to an English speaker, but before she could finish her sentence 'Do you know it is illegal to....', I interrupted with 'We're lost, we're trying to find the airport, etc, etc, etc' . The police ushered us off the highway, and we were left to navigate back via the busy suburbs.

Finally at the packers (about a 2 hour journey), we set about stripping the bikes ready for crating.
First a measure up;

Then onto the crate;

Then pack the panniers and wheels around the bike;




Then finally some pallet wrap;

Result - 3 Teneres, ready for the US;

Seoul Time

A couple of days to relax in Seoul whilst the bikes are being flown across the Pacific, and a chance to meet up with my old work mate Ricky, who popped up with his family from Daejon to Seoul for a spot of lunch - great stuff.

No trip to Korea would be complete without a visit to the DMZ - the Demilitarised Zone between North and South Korea. The DMZ is 55km from Seoul, and consists of a 4km wide strip of mine littered land that spans the entire country. Four tunnels have been discovered, the most recent in 1996, supposedly dug by the North Koreans to invade the South. We had a wander down tunnel 3, a 1600m tunnel, 70m deep, and 2m high and wide - excavated out of pure granite! The tunnel ended right under the DMZ.

The drive up to the DMZ was quite strange, the road followed a huge river, tributaries originate from both North and South Korea, so there was a significant military presence along the river bank, with plenty of razor wire fences.

A quick visit to the Dorason observatory to have a gawp at North Korea - the propoganda town, and the industrial village built as a joint venture between North and South. Looking through the binoculars it was certainly a game of spot the movement - car, people, anything,...

So, back to the democratic free city of Seoul;

There were police everywhere - all with riot shields, just standing and watching - nothing. It seems that the South Koreans are very quick to demonstrate about issues, and so the police are always present near city hall.

So tomorrow we fly to Seattle to start the American leg of the trip, but first a couple of Seoul photos;



Sleepless in Seattle

After arriving in Seattle before the bikes, they finally arrived on Sunday evening, ready to be uncrated on Monday morning, so it was a quick dash down to the Air Korea freight office, then a wee visit to customs (why do the customs office boys in the US require revolvers, handcuffs and full utility belts !!??), then into the warehouse with a crowbar;

It took about 2 hours from arrival (including customs) before we were out, riding our English motorcycles on Seattle streets :-)

In the afternoon we managed to squeeze in a visit to the Boeing factory, which was rather good - 3 production lines building 747, 777 and 787. Amazing to see the factory - the largest building in the world, which (before getting air conditioning) used to have its own weather patterns - it would rain inside the building. The 747 production line had 4 747's being built at a time, the 777 production line was a rolling production line (as in the planes were constantly moving whilst being fitted out), and contained 8 (I think) aircraft.
Some facts:
$350million will get you a basic 747 !
A Boeing 777 rolls out of the factory every 3 days
There is a back log of 250 Boeing 787, and a few thousand Boeing 767 - I thought the air industry was hit by the recession ????

Boeing has it's own airport, and on the runway were 2 (out of 4) 'Dream-Lifter's) extended and widened 747's purely for carrying parts for the 787 (wings and fueslage that are built elsewhere)

Victoria Island - Canada;s best kept secret

A fairly relaxed start, and we headed south on Interstate-5 - joy-oh-joy to ride on the American interstate - millions of lanes of boring big american cars trundling along. It was not long before we turned North and headed along country highway (still 4 lane) towards Port Angeles where we would catch a ferry to Canada.
It was starting to get chilly - I guess a sign of things to come, so whilst waiting for the ferry it was a chance to zip in our thermal liners - we've been carrying these damn things for 3 months, including through 45deg heat in the Karkum desert, so it was nice to use them at last.

Whilst waiting for the ferry we met up with Pam (from Victoria) who had been biking through America for the last month, and she gave us the low down on Vancouver Island (including the location of various bike shops in Victoria)

After a pleasant 1.5 hour cruise across the rolling swell, we were welcomed to Vancouver Island by a floar plane taking off across the bow;

Arriving at the harbour at Victoria, you quickly realise how this part of Canada relies heavily on sea transport for day-to-day living - there were boats and floar planes everywhere (some photos from the rear cargo deck of the ferry);




Once in Victoria, we headed for the local bike shop SGPower.com , where the guys went beyond the call of duty to try locate spares for the bikes (these bikes are not imported into the US or Canada, so it was a case of trying to match compatible parts from other bikes).

With parts purchased, it was now getting late, we left at 4pm for the 150 mile ride to Campbell River where we were hoping to go swimming with Salmon returning up river to lay eggs.
We stopped at half way to refuel, and to phone Campbell River to try to book our places on the snorkling trip. Finally rolling in to Campbell River in the fading light, we located a riverside lodge for the night, and settled down by the river with a cold beer - perfect!!

Wildlife search on Vancouver Island

Campbell River on Vancouver Island was the location for our first wildlife search - Salmon Snorkelling; basically kit up in a semi dry wet suit and drift snorkel down the river (at around joggin pace) whilst the salmon swim up river to spawn. We saw thousands of salmon as we drifted over small rapids, and floated over deeper water - great fun.

We then popped up to the salmon hatchery where they hatch salmon to repopulate stocks (ultimately for commercial fishing).
On route from the hatchery we saw our first real Canadian wildlife - deer hopping across the road. To get a better chance to view wildlife (bears), we decided to take a detour to the east of the Island (to Gold River) and then north via a logging trail - the first people we asked about the viability of this route, said there were no roads north of Gold River. We asked a few more people, and the answers were - there used be a route but the bridges were washed out, there used to be a route but the forest fires closed it, and sure - there's a route.
So we chanced it.
The scenery enroute to Gold River was stunning;



On the highway to Gold River I was stopped by a 'plain-clothes' police car travelling in the opposite direction (117 in an 80!!). The officer had clocked Caroline at a lower speed, and before I could say much he offered the excuse that I must have been trying to catch her up - to which I responded with 'Yeah, I was stopping to take photos of your breath-taking scenery, and was trying to catch up'. Anyway, I was let off with a warning :-) The copper was more interested in where we wer from and why we were going to Gold River - bonus.

After a quick lunch at Gold River, we headed for the loggin road to Woss;




After 70km-odd on the logging road, we returned to the asphalt for the blast to Port Hardy, enroute, we spotted a sign for Telegraph Cove, so diverted off;



Telegraph Cove was our first (so-far) sighting of marine logging activies, complete with a HUGE barge (1oom by 20m) for carrying sawdust;


The Inside Passage

A very early start - 05:15 to catch the ferry from Vancouver Island to Price Rupert - a 15 hour ferry travelling through Canada's Inside Passage - a route through the middle of British Columbia's western islands.

Stunning scenery, and fantastic food.





Grizzlies ahoy

We awoke in Prince Rupert to a wet and misty day, the first 130km we followed the river to a town called Terrace. Between Prince Rupert and Terrace there was nowt - and the signage confirmed that - 'next fuel 134km' - but we were fine. 8km outside of Terrace, Scott rolled to a halt- out of fuel - a slight mile-to-kilometer confusion (we changed the bike clocks from km to miles for america, but didn't change them back for metrified Canada) :-)

So we quickly hooked up a tow rope, and towed the last few km to the fuel station in Terrace.
After refueling we stopped off at the Indian Reserve of Kitselas for some lunch with - you guessed it- FRENCH FRIES.

It was then a drizzly ride for the remainder of the way to the Canadian town of Stewart - glacier town..
Although we were staying in Stewart (in British Columbia), we rode the extra 3 miles to Hyder, in Alaska (a tiny village, with a muddy track as a high street) to go looking for bears;

We waited, and we waited,
and we waited;


THEN;
Out came a grizzly, into the river ans swatted a couple of salmon for dinner;




Black bears and Canadian Wilderness

We woke up to a beautiful clear morning, so decided to head back to Hyder, to go and look at Salmon Glacier - and I'm glad we did, a great ride up, and an amazing glacier;






At the top of Salmon glacier, we met up with some ATV riders, who mentioned that there were some mines further down the trail, so we continued;






Once back from the glacier, it was back onto the highway - fab scenery, and remote as.
Spot the gas station, with the helicopter in the back ground - I guess this is Canada...

Riding along the highway (gravel road), we came across a slighty surprisd black bear, who, on noticing us, stumbled into the bushes in attempt to get away from us ;-) No chance to get the camera out unfortunately :-(
Before arriving at Dease Lake, a quick stop at a nearby lake - which seemingly was cold;



So, let's see what tomorrow brings - hopefully more bears :-)

Yukon and it's getting colder

A cold start from Dease Lake, so it was a case of layering up on the clothes - at least the panniers are emptier now!

We stopped off enroute at Jade City, to warm up and have a coffee. Whilst there we had a very interesting chat with the lady running the store;
85% of the world's Jade comes from the British Columbia Mountains
Jade is the second hardest stone (diamond is used to cut it)
a jade boulder about 6ft cubed is worth $6 million, and one this size was unearthed just behind the shop a few years ago;

To add to the cold, it then started raining - nevermind the roads are fantastic, all to soon we entered Yukon;


Stopping over at Watson Lake, it was a chance to visit the local deparment store to buy a pair of wooly socks :-) whilst there, we got chatting to the owner, who mentioned that further east it had been snowing during the day; brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Let's hope it get's a bit warmer soon....

Alaskan Highway

A wet and cold start from Watson Lake meant a few riders had to come with some novel methods to keep their feet dry; everyone was certainly layered up with as many clothes as were comfortable under riding clothes.

The Alaskan highway cuts through miles upon miles of Yukon forest - it was built during the tailend of the 2nd world war to provide an overland route from America to Alaska - the first cut rough trail was built in 8 months, the following year the trail was gravelled to make it an all year route.



I guess in winter the terrain can get fairly boggy - the 4x4 looked to be fairly well abandoned in it's mud grave;

Rest stop for the day is the city of Whitehorse - at last signs of real civilisation !!

Yukon is empty

Leaving the capital of Yukon - Whitehorse, got me thinking about the population of this deserted state - the answer; 35000 people !!
The ride to the Alaskan border was beautiful - amazing autumn colours, and snow capped mountains, and mostly deserted roads.







Almost at the Alaskan border, and we stop at Beaver Creek for the night - basically an all-in-one; fuel station, shop, cafe and motel, classy;

Alaska - at last

After an evening on the veranda of the motel/fuelstation/shop drinking the finest red plonk, the morning was not very welcoming - ice on the bike seats! This resulted in a slightly delayed departure ( couple of hours, until it warmed up) for the 450 mile ride through Alaska to Anchorage.
First stop tho', was American customs - and surprise, surprise an America customs official with a sense of humour !!

The long ride itself, was a technicolour display of Alaska at it's finest;






Compared to Yukon, Alaska seems to be more populated. Hunting seems to be the top activity in these areas - don't fancy the hunting, but the sheer number of offroad toys these guys drag around the countryside is amazing - ATV, jeeps, amphibious buggies, caterpillar track buggies, etc.
Those that don't hunt seem to have private air strips adjoining their properties with bush-airplanes;



Even getting around in the snowy months looks a hoot;

Floating over Anchorage

A day off in Anchorage gave us the usual opportunity to service the bikes - a replacement front rim had arrived via DHL from London (thanks West London Yamaha), to replace Caroline's bent, buckled, cracked but still quite serviceable (ahem) front wheel. The wheel was relaced in record time, to allow us the time to hire a float plane and go searching for glaciers and wildlife.

Apart from a solitary moose, we were only successful in glacier spotting.
Interesting fact, in Anchorage at 2 airfields there are over 5000 private light aircraft! Once in the air you could see many, many more airfields - public, private, single ownership, subdivisons. One local reckoned that 13% of Alaskans have a pilots licence, and more can actually fly.

At the 'air-lake' we spotted this interesting float-plane launching device (I guess Alaskans get bored in the long cold winter)

Our float plane for the afternoon;


The 'air-lake';


and the glacier;


Alaska is big - damn big, too much space to hide a moose

Riding the 360miles from Ancorage to Fairbanks we took a detour into Denali National Park in another attempt to see moose(s?)
It seems they were out rutting;

Still, plenty of fab scenery to take our minds off the long ride;





Preview of straight America

A dull day on straight American roads; we were even becoming blase about the scenery. Although the Trans-Alaskan pipeline (for oil) was quite impressive;
Before we fell asleep on the bikes, we took a little detour in the direction of a boat slip, and found some locals with an airboat who were off to their log cabin to retrieve a moose ready for processing - talk about a different way of life !!

Top of the world Highway

After the tedium of yesterday, today we would ride the 'Top of the World highway' to Dawson City (an old gold boom town)
The highway follows the ridgeline from Alaska into Yukon, the first part of the road was hard packed dirt, offering great panoramic views of the rolling mountains below;
Before long we spotted a detour to the gold boom town of Chicken (!);
It was in chicken that Scott spotted his latest business opportunity (not sure it will do too well!);
I think he'd be better off renovating the gold dredger, and trying his luck at panning;

Once the entrepenerial brain had slowed to it's usual dormant state, we continued towards Canada;





All too soon we approached Canadian customs (a fairly remote posting), and declared our weapons;

Once into Canada, it was a quick blitz down the mountain range to the ferry that would ship us into the sleepy town of Dawson City;



From a real Gold Rush Town to sleepy Faro

A wild night was had by all in the real life gold rush town of Dawson City - the 2nd largest city in Yukon (population 2000), the streets are all dirt streets, the buildings (seemingly) havent been touched since the 1920's, and the gold is still coming out of the hills (10 gold millionaires in the last 6 years)
The night started off in the salubrious Westminster Hotel;
and ended in Diamond Tooth Gerties gambling hall, where the gold prospectors were playing in a big poker tournament, the dancing girls were dancing, and the brits were loosing at black jack and dirnking beer;

A slowish start the following morning and a misty ride over the hills out of Dawson City, then more gravel graded roads twisting through the Yukon hills - trees, trees, trees, lake, lake, trees - lovely.



Yukon wilderness

Leaving the remote town of Faro, it was straight onto dirt roads, and into the wilderness. A detour to Ross River was required to cram the fuel tanks at a deserted looking fuel station;
With fuel tanks crammed we then had a rollercoaster ride along remote dirt roads for the remaining 360km to Watson Lake;



We saw nothing but remote landscape and very few other people or cars, certainly no buildings. Others were more lucky - spotting cougar and bears :-(

It's been a long trek through the remote Yukon, it's given us a great insight to how people survive here - with harsh winters, labour intensive mining and lot's of liqour to relieve the 'suffering' - in fact you can draw many parallels with Russian Siberia.

Next, it's back into British Columbia - destination Jasper.

Wildlife spotting in BC

Heading south and east at last, means we are heading in the right direction for New York. In some ways the ride had the potential for being a little tedious - it was far from that!!

A great ribbon of tarmac threading its way around glacial blue lakes, through valleys, and around mountains - welcome to the Canadian Rockies. Oh, and we saw a few animals too!

Caroline was our guide for the day - each time she spotted wildlife, the brakes came on hard, Scott and I spent the whole day looking for escape routes up the verge to avoid the stationary abandoned motorcycle in the middle of the road !

First off, Buffalo - and lot's of them - herds with calves, couples, singles, you name it they were there;

Then we were treated to mountain goats (they are just bloody sheep Caroline - you can see them in Wales)!!

Then Caribou - herds of them;

and finally, a bobcat;



Oh, and there was the odd little bit of scenery too;


Back to civilisation

After crossing the continental divide, the scenery changed quite dramatically, the autumnal colours disappeared, and farms started to replace the rugged forested hills.

Through Fort Nelson, and Dawson Creek and the farms are getting bigger and more commercial, the prairie style farms have immaculately trimmed lawns, and post and rail fences. After the junk yard gardens we have become use to in Alaska and Yukon, it's quite refreshing to see cared for properties.

There is still 100's of miles between towns, and when you do come across towns, they are featureless grids of streets.

Even the roads through the forests are starting to get a little tedious;

Then before everything got too desperate, we turned into Jasper National Park :-)


....and more wildlife;

After another taster of long straight roads, and grid cities, I'm not sure I'm looking forward to the trek across the states - let's hope I'm wrong.

Snowy Jasper

Leaving a chilly, but sunny Jasper for a blast through Jasper National Park to Radium Hot Springs, via Lake Louise, scenery was stunning as usual, and there was a light dusting of snow around.



By the time we had climbed up to 2000m at the Athabasca Glacier, it was chilly enough to stop for a coffee, and watch the American/Canadian attempt at glacial tourism - taking a 6-wheel drive, 52-seater coach up and onto the glacier - YUK!

Once over the summit, things started to warm up again, and the snow dusting disappeared. We stopped for a quick bite to eat at Lake Louise, and stared up at the ski pistes carved into the forested hillside. I'm still not convinced about these North American ski resorts - give me the alps anytime.

Wild ranches of Montana

A very pleasant evening on the balcony of our motel with a bottle of local wine, watching the sun set over the mountains in Radium Hot Springs.

It was soon time to leave Canada and head into Montana (border crossings, compared to Asia, are a complete breeze these days) - immediately the scenery changed to dry yellow fields; ranch country;



The ranch terrain provided wildlife for our entertainment - deer jumping fences alongside the road, and bounding alongside for 10's of metres before leaping back into the ranch from where they came - fab.

Ranch-land soon ran out, as we turned North-East for Glacier National park, and more pine covered mountains, glacial rivers, and scenic twisty roads - spoilt !!

Marlboro Man in Montana

Montana _is_ the roaming grounds of Marlboro Man - the ranches, the horses, the cattle, the yellowish grass and mountain back drop. And it goes on for miles, and miles, and miles..

We were even lucky enough to see him in action;

Montana, Wyoming, South Dakota; 3 states in 1 day, who said America was big..

First stop in the morning was tyres - it's been a pain over the last few months to get hold of any tyres, but now, finally we had some in stock.
After leaving Billings, it was a short hop to Little Big Horn - the site of 'Custer's Last Stand' - classic Cowboys and Indians stuff! Then back to the highway, for a long and dull ride through some fantastic scenery (if that makes sense)

The highlight of the day tho' (as suggested by Larry), was the Needles Highway, enroute to Mount Rushmore - a fantastic rocky, foresty, hilly, bouldery, national park. The road wound around huge rocks and through huge rocks, and over wooden bridges-and-through huge rocks;



The rocks peaked out of the treeline;
Until all of a sudden Mount Rushmore appeared through the forest;


Parcels around the world

During the last 100-odd days we've had a few interesting experiences shipping goods around the globe.

1) Early on in the trip, one of the group lost their GPS (it bounced out of the cradle during some offroad riding). I had a spare at home so offered to get it shipped by DHL to Istanbul. We found the address of the hotel in Istanbul, and arranged to get DHL to send the GPS to the hotel (£50 please). When we arrived at Istanbul we phoned DHL, but unfortunately the GPS was stuck in customs, and they wanted £170 to release it. That's more than the current value of the GPS - ok, so can you send it back please - another £40 to return it, and they still wanted £170 for the customs. So there is currently a nice GPS sat at DHL in Istanbul.

2) The starter motor on one of the bikes was making very poorly grinding sounds, so we arranged to get one shipped in from Yamaha in the UK. The process started in Turkey, and we decided to get it shipped to Baku, Azerbaijan. DHL charged £130 to send the starter motor, and they gave an estimated time of arrival. So, for the next 4 days Scott and I pushed Carolines bike to start it - in 40degC heat !! In Georgia (before Azerbaijan) we checked the DHL website, and the parcel was indeed in Baku - fab. The only problem was that the DHL office was closed on Sunday, and only open on Saturday morning. It was currently Friday morning, and we were in Georgia, and we still didn't have our Azerbaijan visa !!
We received our Visa at 2pm on Friday, and dashed to the border - a border crossing thar took 6 hours to get through. We arrived at a hotel at 1am Sat morning! So, we awoke at 5am, with the aim to ride across most of Azerbaijan, aiming to be at Baku for noon. This actually went surprisingly well, until we got stopped for speeding by a gold toothed policeman in a Lada, wearing the most ridiculous hat, and stinking of aftershave - we were travelling at the same speed as all the other traffic, but seemingly it was only us that were speeding!! As we were in a hurry, we dished out the $100 (each) fine/bribe, and managed to make it to the DHL office in Baku with 30 mins to spare. As it was, the starter motor was never changed, as the grinding noise disappeared.

3) Some of the guys on the trip who changed to offroad tyres to early, had worn them out by Turkmenistan, so they ordered new ones to be shipped to Almaty (Kazakstan). The tyre cost £100, and the customs and shipping another £225. Per tyre!!
They also had agro getting them through customs, as (apparently) the tyres were all on different planes (right-o) and so customs processing was being delayed, and the weekend was approaching.....

4) Front wheel rims were next - they were ordered in Korea, and the plan was to ship them to Anchorage. Rims cost £140, and DHL shipping was £160 (fast delivery). After much messing around, the rims finally left London when we were 1 day away from Anchorage - they would surely never make it. We watched the DHL tracking website, and the rim went from London-Heathrow-EastMidlands, by the next morning the parcel was in America. That evening we arrived at Anchorage, and no sign of the parcel - the website said the parcel was still in America. We spent the morning drifting around bikeshops, getting warmer clothes and spare tyres. By the time we returned to the hotel, the rims had arrived !!!! Bonus!!

5) Riding Europe only motorcycles in North America caused us problems with getting chain&sprockets (normal consumable items), we had spent several hours on the internet comparing part numbers against other bikes, and thought we had a list of bikes that had compatible parts - only to discover that these other bikes were also not imported to America! Another few hours were spent in a bike shop on Vancouver Island with some very helpful chaps, who helped us sort some compatible parts - but we still did not have a rear sprocket. We had kept a used rear sprocket, so that was reused, but now there was nothing for it, but to ship some from the UK.
As we had plenty of time, we used Royal Mail, and shipped them to an address in Jasper, Canada. We arrived at the hotel in Jasper about a week later, and went to retrieve the parcel - alas, there is no postal system in Canada - it seems that all (normal) post is left at postal boxes. Ok, so where's the postal box - oh that has a totally different address to the hotel address!! So where are the sprockets - god only knows - we are still to track them down.

So, the next time someone says 'just stick them in the post', give it a little bit more thought.

Avoiding the I90

The obvious route from Rapid City - South Dakota, to Chicago - Illinois, is the I90 interstate - Yuk - the same motorway for almost 800 miles.

Instead we decided to divert through the backcountry to Badlands National Park;


Once in Badlands, the scenery was impressive - thousands of acres of badly eroded landscape;


From Badlands, we reluctantly decided to head for the I90 to get q quick route to Chamberlain, as the motorcycle tyres were getting bald, and one of the bike sprockets was smoothed, so maintenance would be required.
Chamberlain - another motel, another evening, and more bike maintenance - 3 rear tyres changed, and a rear sprockets - then perhaps the most disgusting meal of the whole trip - a Dairy Queen burger - yuk.

Leaving Chamberlain, Caroline and I split off, to go and see Larry & Andi - friends of ours from London, who happened to be settled in Minneapolois - a great evening with fantastic food - nothing American in sight here - no fries, no burgers, no soda :-)

From Minneapolis to Chicago; a mere 450 miles (think London to Edinburgh), started with a lovely winding road alongside the Mississippi River - even thousands of miles from the sea, the river here is _huge_, in places several hundred metres wide !

Passing through the timber housed towns that edge the Mississippi River was like travelling back 50 years - twee timber clad houses, with immaculate lawns, and classic 60's Buick and Chevvy cars parked outside. Several of the twee houses had dungaree wearing old-timers, sitting in their rocking chairs, selling pumpkins by the container load.

Time was starting to run out though, and by midday we still had 300 miles to Chicago, so reluctantly we headed back towards the I90 - destination Chicago.

Back in time

After a great party at Dave's sisters house in Chicago, it was back on that damn I90 to get out of the city. As soon as possible, we turned off, in search of countryside and small roads.

We found exactly that - Amish Country;


It seems a shame that the modern world has forced these people to install lights (indicators), registration plates and huge rear warning triangles - but such is life.

After lunch in a small Amish cafe, we continued eastwards along the farm roads, and were completely amazed by the craze that is sweeping the backcountry of the central-states - lawn-mowing!!! They mow EVERYTHING, and they mow it short and neat;

Field edges:
Trailer homes;

Even abandoned buildings, had the 'short back and sides' treatment;




After all that lawn excitement (and I have lots of photographs), it was time to try and get some miles under the belt - it was 3pm, and we still had over 200 miles to get to Cleveland, so you guessed it, back on the I90.

Niagara Falls

Only America can turn one of the natural wonders of the world into a skyscraper skylined tourist attraction! Still, it's very impressive;



New York - New York

Leaving Niagara Falls, it was a relatively straight forward 500-odd miles to New York, we split the journey into 2 days - stopping over at Catskill National Park (New York state). The previous night we had been discussing how fortunate we had been - no punctures for the 3 of us. So, you can guess what happening in Catskill;

A very early start from Catskill, and a fairly boring route down the interstate, into New Jersey, through Holland Tunnel and onto Manhatten, then across Brooklyn Bridge for the obligatory photo shoot;

Then it was a race back across Manhatten to New Jersey to deliver the bikes to the shippers ready for sea crating back to the UK.

With all that done, the only thing left was the luxury transport to the hotel;