Trans-Eurasia 2005 Part 14
Trip Start
May 20, 2005
1
13
14
Trip End
Aug 05, 2005
Beijing,
China
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
I like this city. Clean hotel with
water, plenty of restaurants, and alot of foreigners. After riding for
almost 2 weeks inside Mongolia with not hardly seeing another
foreigner, but sometimes a day goes buy without seeing an other person,
this is a refreshing change.
I'm up early because of the noise downstairs, and lo and behold, there
is a car wash next door to the hotel! I ride over to it to try and get
2 weeks worth of mud and grime cleaned off the bike. I insist on using
the water sprayer myself, as I have to be careful to avoid the wheel
bearing area based on some advice I picked up off the internet last
year. But the mud is flowing off my bike like lava from a volcano.
Within about half an hour my bike is actually British Racing Green once
again.
As I'm drying it off, I see another foreigner riding to the hotel next
door on some kind of Dual Sport Honda. I thought it was Sjaak, the
Hollander I'm supposed to meet in U-B but as soon as I wave him down I
see it is not. Instead it is a German man, about 70 years old (?) who
is also riding around the world. He speaks not one word of English, and
my high school German is long forgotten. Sign language is truly the
international language.
He has been to about 80 countries and he has a joke passport which
looks real enough except his picture shows him wearing a clown outfit
and yellow wig. Below it are the words "This passport is valid in every
coutry that possesses a sense of humor". Pretty funny. Once Till washes
his bike it won't start (again) so I tow it to a repair facility about
1 km down the road towards town. The German fellow follows us as he
wants to change his plugs and air filter. I need some (more) welding
done to my spare tire carrier and some patchwork to the floor of my
sidecar (also again). At the repair facility things turn upside down.
The German is going ballistic because he has one of those universal
tools that can clip your toenails and turn a socket, but right now it
is doing neither. No surprise here. He's throwing his tool at the
ground and screaming at it. He takes off his air filter (no easy job on
this Honda) and it is cruddy. But there are no Honda parts stores in
U-B as far as I know. I suggest he use some gasoline to clean it but he
doesn't seem to like that idea. Next he wants me to find him some new
spark plugs which I'm happy to do but only after I find something to
eat. He again goes ballistic over the thought that I want to eat first
before finding his plugs. So, with Till pulling on the back of my
jacket, I hand him back his old plugs and hail a taxi for the nearest
Pizza Joint. I'm amazed though, that such an ill-prepared guy has made
it as far as he has, and even more surprised he has done it without a
word of English or any other language except for his native German. The
taxi driver takes us to what is supposed to be the best Pizza
restaurant in U-B but it is almost inedible. Still, I manage because
this is the first time I've eaten since yesterday at noon.
After eating, the taxi driver brings Till and me to an auto and
motorcycle parts market. It is a huge yard with shipping containers
lined up side by side. The containers have been turned into shops
selling mostly used auto parts. I finally buy some wrenches to replace
the ones that were stolen back in Hovd.
I also find a pair of Champion spark plugs that look like they will fit my bike.
Till buys a tire and some points and plugs for the Ural.
After this we head back to where both our bikes are. The German is gone by now-Good Luck.
Besides welding up my spare tire carrier for the 2nd time, I have them
rivet some sheet metal onto the bottom of my sidecar body to patch up
where the frame has punched through. I then change the oil and filter,
(re) adjust the valves, clean the plugs with some fine grit sandpaper,
and tighten every nut and bolt I can.
Doris, it turns out arrived in U-B about 11 hours ahead of us. She
camped out soon after meeting the Finns and then left early, passing
right through Arvayheer towards U-B. Without any bike trouble she made
it by 6:00 PM Friday night while we made it by 5:00 AM Saturday
morning. Anyway she calls my cell phone to plan a meeting up for 7:00
PM this evening.
We meet in front of the department store in the center of U-B and then
head over to an open air restaurant across the street. I finally meet
Sjaak Lucasson who is riding around the world on a Yamaha R1.
We decide to take Sunday off for resting up and head East on Monday
morning. Sunday, I spend more time working on my bike and helping Till
get his bike running. Finally, his uncle shows up who is a "Ural
Expert" and he gets it running soon afterwards. Bad set of points I
think.
On Sunday I find the Pizza King Restaurant and have myself a really
great tasting Pizza. Then I head back to the hotel to catch the British
Formula 1 race (the highlights only) and lights out early.
Monday morning I ride downtown to meet up with Sjaak and Doris for the
ride to the Eastern border of Mongolia. Till is leaving to head back
home in Hovd.
I figure I got quite a bargain. A guide who speaks perfect English, and
can "read" the trails that substitute for roads in this country. There
were a few spots where I know I would have gone the wrong way, probably
extending my Mongolian ride by a few days if not a week. And there was
the time I was stuck in deep sand and he helped push me out. Now when
he gets back home he'll have a decent Ural for transportation. I'd say
we both got a fair deal.
The road East out of U-B is paved and pretty smooth for the first 130
kms, then turns to rough dirt, and then back to fresh pavement. There
are sand dunes piled up to block access to the hiway after the 130 km
mark, but we manage to climb over them and ride on this brand new paved
road for another 50 kms or so. Finally the pavement ends, and it's back
to rough (corrugated) sand. At one point I see what appears to be
thousands of large insects crossing the trail, and it turns out they
are scorpions. I probably ran over a hundred of them. We pass a few
wild horse and camel herds along the way, hit a very high velocity dust
storm, and finally hit rain. I think this is just the 3rd day I've hit
rain in 7 weeks of riding. My bike is running better and better though
so it's a comfortable ride to Ondorhaan (sounds like Underhand).
We pull into a gas station at the outskirts of Onderhaan and the
attendant volunteers to show us to the hotel in town. No showers and
the toilet is down the hall. But they do have a garage, and he pulls
out his minibus so we can fit all 3 bikes in. Then 2 English speaking
locals staying in the same hotel offer to guide us to the best
restaurant in town. They are in town for mining, and the restaurant
they take us to is just closing. But the owner agrees to stay open and
cook up a meal. And it is one of the best meals I've had since I
entered Mongolia. So back to the hotel where they have a refrigerator
with cold bottled water which is also a first. We buy some cookies and
crackers for the ride and make sure the man with the key to the garage
will be available at 6:00 AM.
Next morning it looks like rain so I put on my rain suit and we're off
by 7:00 AM towards Choybalsan. This ride mujst have been pretty
uneventful because I don't remember it. But we do arrive in Choybalsan
before sunset. The hotel is very decent and one of the workers speaks
Chinese. I get a hot shower and a decent meal so I'm pretty happy. It
is only later that I find out that Sjaak and Doris both had rooms with
no hot shower. Sjaak doesn't even have a shower, and Doris has a shower
but no hot water.
In the morning we leave fairly early for the eastern border of Xi Qi
about 250 kms away. It rains and there are clay patches which turn to
such a mess that it is almost impossible to even stand up, it is that
slippery. We each take turns getting stuck in these patches and we are
all covered with mud. Twice more I get stuck and finally my front wheel
locks up because the mud has impacted under the front fender. There the
friction from the tire dried it to the consistance of concrete. It
takes a hammer and screwdriver to chip away at the impacted mud to free
up my front tire. So what should have been an easy 8-9 hour ride turns
into 11 hours. But we finally reach the Mongolian border.
But now the border guards tell us we are not allowed to leave. This
border, it turns out is only for Mongolians and Chinese. No 3rd country
persons allowed. We beg and plead, and I call my wife's uncle who is
waiting at the other side in Chinese territory to see if there is
anything they can do to get us out. They show up on the Mongolian side
in a Wu Jing Pajero to try and negotiate with the Mongolian
Authorities. They bring me 20 liters of fuel, bottled water, food, and
they even bring the Mongolian guards alcohol and cigarettes. But the
border closes at 4:00 PM sharp and we are not getting across today. So
I take back the alcohol and cigarettes my uncle brought and pass them
out among the truck drivers waiting to cross the next morning. I do
this in front of the guards who are really upset they are not getting
any of this booty.
As the sun sets we decide to try and go around the barbed wire fence.
It can't go on forever can it? So riding without lights we head south
running parallel to the fence but about 1 km west of it. When we think
we are far enough away we turn towards the East to see if the fence is
still there. Unfortunately it is, but there is a path along the fence
so we follow it for a bit. I've seen unexploded shells and something
that looks like a shell with a cocktail umbrella sticking up out of the
nose of the shell. I think they are landmines? Up ahead there is ayurt
with it's light on so we head for that to ask directions. As we
approach we are met by a bunch of soldiers. This is their yurt and they
are building the fence. We are led into the yurt and offered milk tea.
They seem very friendly. After our tea the leader offers to escort us
to his commander's barracks just a few kilometers fron where we are. I
politely decline the offer, but they insist. So when we get within
sight of the barracks we are met by another company of soldiers who are
not nearly as polite as the first group. But the trakc is muddy and my
front wheel is getting impacted once again. The new group of soldirs
insist on sitting on my bike and sidecar and when I stop, it starts to
get nasty. I can't take any passengers as my sidecar is damaged in the
floor anyway and the extra weight only pushes me deeper into the mud.
The leader of the new group of soldiers grabs an AK47, cocks it and
points it directly at my neck. He smells of vodka and he is not someone
I want to be pissing off more than I already am. He is screaming at the
top of his lungs at me (I assume to get moving) but my bike won't
budge. The other soldiers see the problem and start helping me clear
the mud from under the front fender. All this with a drunken commander
pointing a loaded machine gun at me. We finally get enough mud out
where the front wheel wiull rotate, but once again 3 Mongolian soldiers
hop onto the sidecar for the ride to the commander's barracks. I stop
once again until they hop off. We finally reach the commander's
barracks and he is woken up by his soldiers. We are motioned to sit on
a bench outside. They examine our passports, and the angry and drunk
soldier makes a scissors motion with his hand, indicating (I think)
that we were attempting to cut the fence and escape Mongolia.
Fortunaltely they can find no wire cutters in any of our luggage so the
commander dismisses that idea. We are held at gunpoint for another 2
hours before we are let go. One of the soldiers (and he happens to
speak Chinese) is charged with escorting us 10 kms to some yurts where
we can spend the rest of the night. But about 1 km away Doris and Sjaak
stop while I keep following the soldier in his jeep. Finally he
realizes there is just 1 bike behind him so he stops and we head back
on foot to try and find the other 2 bikes. He's got tracking
experience, so he lies down in the wet mud and looks for any silouette
against the sky. Sure enough he finds them and we walk over towards
them. Doris pretends she dumped her bike on the slippery mud and can't
go any further. The soldier takes pity on her and indicates we can camp
out where his jeep and my bike aqre parked just 1 km ahead. Sjaak does
a "burn out" in the mud to demonstrate just how slippery it is. I think
the soldier is convinced. So we get back up to where the Jeep is parked
and find a decent place to pitch our 3 tents. When my tent is up, the
soldier asks to see my passport once again. I show it to him and he
grabs it out of my hand intending to keep it. I argue and plead with
him to return it but he's holding firm. He says he wantrs to make sure
we don't attempt another run across the border during the night. I
finally offer to trade him my motorcycle's key for the passport and he
reluctantly agrees. But we're like 2 kinds each afraid to hand over
what we have in case the other side doesn't hand over what he has.
Finally after about 3 minutes of shuffling opur han ds I have my
passport back and he has my key. I have another key so I'm resting much
easier. He promises to return at 9:00 to return my key.
The next morning he finaly shows up at 10:00 and I have to remind him
he still has my key. But he gines it to me, tells us to waqit here and
he'll return and he heads off for the border. We wait an hour and then
start off towards the border gate as well. At the border they don't
seem too surprised to see us again and finally after an hour they open
the gate and let us park our bikes inside their compound. I figure this
is a good sign. I let them use my cell phone to call their superiors
which they do and they also called about everyone in Mongolia with a
phone. I don't want to see this phone bill!
There's a couple of kids riding around on bicycles inside the compound,
and both bikes need some work. So to pass the time, I fix the seat on
one bike and we pump up the tires on another. This pleases the head of
customs who starts acting friendly towards us when yesterday he
wouldn't even look me in the eye.
At 3:00 PM the soldier who speaks Chinese motions us we can finally go
through to the Chinese border. I profusely thanks everyone in sight and
slip all the Mongolian money I have (about 100,000 Tigriks, or US$
100.00) into his pocket.
We pass through customs and the gate is opened for us to exit Mongolia.
There is about 1 km of "No Mans Land" between the Mongolian border and
the Chinese border. Then when we reach the Chinese border the gate is
lifted and I am home (I think). But there is a TV camera filming us as
we pass into the immigration building. Once inside we fill out the
arrivals card and hand in our passports. A few minutes later a Chinese
immigration official comes out and tells me we have to go back to
Mongolia. Only Chinese and Mongolians are allowed through at this
border. Here we go again. Only they want us to go back to Mongolia
immediately so they can close the border and go home. This is spite of
a big sign declaring this border is to remain open 24 hours a day. I
plead with them to at least wait until my wife;s uncle can turn around
and get back here, but he's 100 kms away and figures it will take an
hour and a half to get ack to the border. Sjaak and Doris are
especially worried as they have single entry visas for Mongolia and
they have meen stamped out. And Sjaaks Mongolian visa expired today as
well. But the Chinese official offers us a choice. Either we go back to
Mongolia right now or we are placed under arrest. When we ask about the
visa problemk he says not to worry he'll negotiate with the Mongolians
on our behalf. So we turn around and get escorted back across the no
mans land back inside the gate of the Mongolian border station. There
the Chinese official does a U-Turn and speeds off. When I ask him about
the visa proiblem of Sjaak and Doris he just yells out the window
that's our problem, not his. So back in Mongolia the soldier who now
has all my Mongolian money offers to find us a place to stay. He leads
us in hius Jeep to his barracks and they are surprisingly clean and
well kept. He even has the cook fix us something to eat even though
dinner is long past finished. There are no showers of course, and the
bathrooms are 2 out-houses about 100 meters away but overall it is one
of the nicer accomodations I've stayed in since I entered Mongolia.
The next morning I find if I climb a small mountain nnext to the
compound I can get a Chinese cell phone signal so I call my wife and
her uncle to see what can be done. As there is no way we'll be allowed
into China at this border, my wife's uncle arranges to be driven in a
Wu Jing Police vehicle out to meet us. He brings bottlede water,
cookies, potato chips, and money. he also hires a Mongolian cop to
escort us back to Choybalsan. So being led by a police bus we head off
to Choybalsan. The bus is quite a bit faster than we are, something
aboiut driving your own vehicle versus driving a government vehicle,
but he does wait for us every 20-30 kms or so At one point we cross
another mud bog and I get stuck once again. So off comes the shoes and
socks and I'm knee deep in mud trying to push my bike out. Sjaak gets
quite a kick out of this so he sets up his tripod and video to shoot
the fun.
We get the bike out of the mud surprisingly quickly and join up with
the bus just ahead. From here it is just about 10 kms to Choybalsan.
When we get into town, I want to stay at the same hotel we stayed at 2
nights ago, and this is when I find out the other 2 rooms didn't have a
shower or hot water. So, I'm out voted and we stay at a cheaper hotel
(about US$ 7.00) that supposedly has hot showers and toilets in the
room. And it does. They also cook us a meal and I'm in bed by 10:00 PM.
The next morning the same cop who escorted us to Choybalsan is charged
with finding me atruck to haul my bike back across the Gobi to the
Southern border near Erlenhot. I offer Sjaak and Doris to have their
bikes hauled as well, but they want none of this. They are riders and
they only want to ride. But when the truck finally shows up at the
hotel they also want to have their bikes hauled. The problem is, I
rented a smaller truck thinking there was just one bike to be hauled.
And the driver of the truck also thought there was just 1 bike being
hauled. But he's nice enough and if we can fit 3 bikes in the truck
he'll haul them all.
