World's longest bike

Of course it is an Ural. Nadya found this link on the net. I met Oleg in Tver.

http://fishki.net/comment.php?id=15082

Doug Wothke

Just a quick note.

You can now reach Doug Wothke's webpage via www.guzzidoug.net

22-10-2006

I awake early enough to take a photo of the sun rising over my tent. A beautiful sight. I pack up and head for the Ukrainian-Polish border. Oh, how I long to be in Europe again. The downside of using a major highway are the long queues at the border. This crossing is no different. Procedures here are more streamlined however and beside a retarded Ukrainian customs officer that cannot believe that I am not smuggling anything out of the country, all goes well leaving Ukraine. The officer wants to check all my luggage, but does not really do a thorough search. He keeps asking if I have weapons of any kind, historical objects or drugs. I have to disappoint him. He cannot believe that I have been travelling in Russia without a weapon or that I did not buy one to bring one home. Well anyway, there is nothing he can 'confiscate'. I doubt that he will officially confiscate anything, he will probably used it for his own benefit. Yes, my apologies if I seem a bit harsh at jumping to conclusions, but I do not trust anybody in uniform in Russia or Ukraine. In any case the lovely lady at the Polish border is a sight for sore eyes. Just a check of my documents and the customs guy has a quick look at the luggage in my sidecar. "Welcome to Poland" they say and I am free to enter the country. I could have cried for joy, this is the first time they actually welcome me to a country. I also feel welcome and love the European look of the towns and villages. The E40 is a good road here and the bad spots are soon to be a thing of the past as road construction is ongoing all over the place. Speed limits are generally observed and pedestrians can cross a zebra without fearing for their lives. Sidewalks are perfect and everything just makes me love the European Union. What a great Union we live in. The sun is going down and I find a nice spot in the Polish fields.

21-10-2006

Early in the morning Cyril comes to escort me to the city limits, but first he and his wife take me around Kyiv to see the sights. It is a grey day so the views over the city are limited, but Cyril is a great guide and manages to make it interesting nevertheless. He also takes me to the KMZ, the Dnepr motorcycle factory. Everybody I have asked tells me the factory is practically finished. They only occasionally produce anything and the quality is bad. Dneprs are not a frequent sight here. While taking pictures in front of the factory, a woman comes out of the factory and tells us that we cannot take any pictures here. Cyril is as amazed as I am and tells her to call the cops if it is really that big a problem. There is a Dnepr museum, but the unfriendly reception just now and the fact that I prefer Ural keep me from paying a visit (and probably rather high admittance fee). Once at the city limits I thank Cyril and his wife for the great tour of this huge city (about 50kms from end to end). Luck has it that my planned route to Poland is under construction and of poor quality, so I decide to follow the E40 from Kiev to Poland. From Poland the E40 runs all the way to Dresden, Germany. The E40 also runs through Belgium. It is our major highway from the capital (Brussels) to the coast. It is kind of funny to be riding on the E40 so far away from Belgium ... well, it is funny to me. The quality of this highway is actually OK, just the occasional bad spot. I was quite surprised. The weather has been great since I reached Kyiv: nice and warm. So I decide to camp again. Around dusk I get off the highway to find a nice secluded spot ... in the middle of a Ukrainian field. Soft rolling hills seclude me from view in the middle of this vast field. It is a special experience, I like it very much and watch the stars for a while.

20-10-2006

Kyiv

I have an early start and even forget to have the breakfast that was included in the hotel room. So far I have been unable to find anything that sets Ukraine apart from Russia. The stairs also have the bizarre 'odd' step. Most of the time, the first step is a little lower and the last step is a bit higher. It can be the other way round, but that is less frequent. This is normal in Russia ... and apparently also in Ukraine. (check the photo)
The last 50kms of the road to the M1 are under construction, so all traffic has to divert over local roads. Naturally the diversion is only indicated on the main road. After that it is every man for himself. Eventually I reach the Kyiv city limits and while looking for a good place to make a phone call, I spot a biker in the opposing traffic. This is a rare sight, so I take it slow to let him catch up. Indeed, he catches up to me and introduces himself as Cyril. My darling Nadya has been in contact with the Ukrainian biker community and has notified them of my arrival. I am surprised to meet him here, but it safes the trouble of the phone call. Cyril's English is amazing. He could pass for an Englishman. He is an English teacher. He is a good guy. He takes me to the local biker hangout and I meet some other bikers. Cyril is meanwhile occupied with finding a place for me to sleep. After some coffee, Sasha shows up. He will be my host for the night. He will go on my buddy seat to take me to his place. We do not get far however ... I have a flat tire.
My first flat of the entire trip! The tire was almost completely worn out anyway and I have a new spare ready, so it was just a minor set back.
We arrive at his apartment and have diner. He and his wife have a nice apartment. Their cat just had eye surgery, so it was a funny sight to see it walking around with a lamp shade around her neck. The sofa/bed in the kitchen was very comfortable.

19-10-2006

Yelets - Ukraine

The main road from Yelets to Aryol (Orel) is the one I follow up to Zmyevka. There I can follow local roads that will lead me to Trosna and the highway that will take me to Ukraine via Zheleznogorsk. Following the highway to Aryol would be a detour. Local roads scare me a bit: they are usually in a bad state and road signs are mainly absent. This local road was no exception and I did some extra kilometres going back and forth trying to find the right road. I did manage to find it in the end. The highway from Trosna to Ukraine via Zheleznogorsk is a straight line on the map and continues well into Ukraine up to about 80kms from Kyiv. By the way, you can't say Kiev anymore. That is the Russian pronunciation. The Ukrainian government is working hard to become buddies with the EU. Hence all that is Russian is bad. Also the way we pronounce the name of their capital. So not Kiev, but Kyiv.
The road from Trosna to Ukraine turned out to be crap all the way. Pardon my French, but I have no other words to describe this road. It is bad, bad, bad. It was really getting on my nerves. The absence of any distraction whatsoever makes it all the more bad. It is really just a straight road all the way to the M1 in Ukraine. About 300kms. Is it to keep Russians from travelling to Ukraine or vice versa ... I have no clue. I learn later that most people choose to go via Belarus because of the bad quality of this road. I cannot go via Belarus, I have no visa. Ukraine is free to visit by Europeans.
Well, what exactly does free mean? The Ukrainian border guards are not inclined to let you pass for free. It already started at the first checkpoint. You need to fill in a small form to start the procedure. The, at first, friendly Ukrainian border guard offered to fill it in for me as I do not really write perfect Ukrainian. Before actually starting to write anything he asked if I might not ,by any chance, have a present for him ... some money for example. I thought I maybe misunderstood, but when I realized he was serious I just laughed and said no. His friendly appearance was gone instantly and I was free to fill out the form myself. I had hoped the corruption would stop in Russia, but I had no such luck.

By the way, to go back in time a bit, my exit from Russia was a test for my nerves too. Just before the border checkpoint, I was given the last Russian present and it will be one I will remember for a long time. They were repairing the bad road and had the usual signs put up like "work in progress, go slow". The sun was already low, so the sun was reflecting on the road for the last half hour. Because of this I did not notice that the construction strip was freshly coated with tar. When I noticed the truck spraying the tar I knew enough: this tar was not cold enough yet to stick to the road. Indeed, my Ural now has a perfect undercoating of tar. You will see this in the photo. I have not washed my Ural since leaving Belgium, so I hope the base coat of dirt will sort of make it easier for me to wash off the tar. It's all part of the adventure and it does make the bike look 'ridden', so I did not waste one tear over this slight mishap. Also to my consolation I noticed a shiny new Chrysler 300M that now featured a two-tone paint job of metallic grey and black tar from the door handles down. That is worse I guess.
Passing the Russian border was actually pretty easy up to the point where they wanted to see the last pictures I made with my camera. All of a sudden this KGB officer is summoned and he wants to see all my pictures. Yes, all my pictures ... about 600-700MB. I am slightly pissed off. God forbid I would have any pictures with me that would jeopardize the security of the State. Interesting side note: the forbidden and secret town of Seversk near Tomsk is clearly visible on Google Earth. You can find the coordinates on Wikipedia. Silly people ... the KGB does not exist anymore, they just have a different name now. Anyway, he escorts me, my camera and laptop to his office and starts looking. I think he by now realizes that this is crazy and just looks at the first ones and copies some pictures from Dresden. He asks all sorts of questions about my trip, but mostly about my budget. We talk a bit and I get the feeling he is just curious about Europe. He wants to make a trip there. I guess leaving Russia is still a dream for the majority and reality for a few. Anyway, we are not in there really long and I can go on my way. By now all my papers are checked and I am good to go. One last look east and I say goodbye to Russia.

Where were we? Oh yes, Ukraine. My first experience with Ukraine is a border guard asking for money to help me out. Great. To my luck the small form is in English too, so I manage to get it filled in properly after the third try and the border guard sends me on to the next stop. News spread fast and the officers are glad to see me. I hand them my documents and am instructed to park my motorcycle on the side as this will take long. My documents disappear and I wait for further instructions. After standing there for a while I enquire what I need to do now, but nobody is really helpful. They only (want) to speak Russian or Ukrainian. Eventually they tell me I have to fill in the customs declaration form. This document is only available in Russian and Ukrainian. I have problems believing this, but they assure me they do not have it in English. Beside my name, nationality and passport number I cannot understand what the paper says. Of course they offer to help, but help is not for free. I refuse to give them anything. I am starting to get really aggravated, but my mind is made up: they are not getting one kopeka from me. I just inform them I do not write in Russian or Ukrainian and that they should help me. They just stand there and ignore me. I know this game. I just wait. They cannot keep me here forever. I am not hungry or thirsty so I can keep this up for a while. I have the phone number for the Belgian embassy in Ukraine, so if I am still here by morning I will give them a call. In the end, the waiting game is the tactic to follow. Once they realize you have all the time in the world and are not willing to give them any 'presents', they will help you. Somehow 'helping' is not the correct word here. So after an hour or two a guy comes up and fills in the declaration with the required data. After that it still takes an hour for the 'stamp jockey' to finish all the red tape involved. Once I have everything in order they let me go without even checking my luggage. It is already late, so I check into the first hotel I encounter. I bought insurance and exchanged my last Rubles before I crossed the border. By the way, the road here is just as crappy as in Russia. Welcome to Ukraine.

15-16-17-18 - 10 - 2006

15-10 Chelyabinsk - Ufa

Crossing the Ural mountains here is totally different from the pass in the north near Ekatarinburg. The Ural mountains here are indeed more serious mountains. Not as impressive as the Altay, but definitely a mountain range. Somewhere in the middle you have a monument that indicates the border between Europe and Asia. They do not have this on the road from Perm to Ekatarinburg. There is one really high mountain pass you have to cross here. Needless to say it had some snow on it. I was sort of expecting really warmer temperatures once I crossed the Ural. No such luck. Temperature was +2 during the day and minus at night.

16-10 Ufa - Samara

The big cities are a days ride apart. About 400 to 500 kms. I make good time. The roads are not good, but not really bad, yet demand constant attention. The landscape is nice. Ever since I crossed the Urals, forests consist of not only birch trees and the sight of some evergreen trees is a nice change. Autumn is still in full swing here. Only a few persistent leaves still cling to the trees. In my imagination I was expecting the land behind the Ural mountains to be warm and lush and still unaware of the approaching winter. Silly me.

17-10 Samara - Penza

Nothing spectacular to report. I am still spending nights in gastinitsas. It is just a bit too cold for the tent. Well not really too cold, but I just like the ease and comfort of hotels. No sign of snow though and it has not rained since Irbit.

18-10 Penza - Elets

My last day in Russia, tomorrow I should be in Ukraine. For the rest nothing spectacular, just endless roads.

14-10-2006

Irbit - Ekatarinburg - Chelyabinsk

After breakfast Seryosha shows up to take me to the hangar. I start getting ready for take off. Vasili, his wife and two guys I met at the birthday party yesterday show up in a small OKA. They will escort me to the city limits. Vasili also gives me 2 liters of juice for the road. Russians like to give. Seryosha gives me a waterproof coat. One of those oversized Russian chemical warfare coats. He does not have a lot of confidence in my Rev'it waterproof riding suit. I must actually agree, nothing beats this coat, the only problem is that it does not 'breathe' like our modern waterproof gear. I will never leave home without this anymore.
I say goodbye to Seryosha and thank him. I cannot help but feel silly as nothing I can do or say will ever repay what he did for me. The rest of the gang somehow manage to get back in the little car and take me to the city limits where we take one last photo. Saying goodbye has now become a little bit different for me. I am heading for the Russian border. The end of my trip is nearing. I am leaving. I will probably not be back here for a while, maybe never. Don't get me wrong, I will be back to see Nadya that is for sure, but will I ever really visit Russia again with a motorcycle? I want to, but will I be able to? The goodbyes are now more serious. It might even be my last meet with bikers in Russia. I will probably not stay with Russian bikers anymore. It is just a different feeling I have now when saying goodbye.
Anyway, when I leave Irbit it is raining a bit. The clouds are sometimes dark around me while I ride to Ekatarinburg, but it stays relatively dry.
In Ekatarinburg, Nadya has contacted a biker named Artyum. He will be waiting for me near the city. Vasili has also contacted him to give more specific info on my arrival time. When I reach Ekatarinburg, I spot him and pull over. Nadya wants me to spend the night here, but I want to go on. My schedule is pretty tight and I want to get across the Urals as soon as possible. It is too cold here and they are expecting snow for tomorrow. Artyum offers me to spend the night at his place, but however much I like to meet with bikers, I refuse politely and inform him of my reasons. He and his wife talk to me for a bit, take some pictures and escort me to the road that will take me to Chelyabinsk. I thank him for his trouble and we say goodbye. I head for Chelyabinsk on the double, but have to make a stop. The guys that installed my engine in my motorcycle did not do a good job on synchronizing my carbs. They did not retighten the screws and so my synchronization is way off. This minor set back does not prevent me from reaching a nice hotel just outside of Chelyabinsk at a reasonable hour. I check in and have a good nights sleep.

13-10-2006

Irbit

Around 9am Seryosha shows up and escorts me to the factory. The workers have already started to have a look at my motorcycle. We have coffee and talk until the TV-crew shows up for my interview. Seryosha is impressed by my knowledge of the Russian language and tells the interviewing lady that we do not need an interpreter. I was not prepared for this, but what to do. I do not know how, but I managed to pull off my first interview in Russian. It must probably be something like the famous Jean-Marie Pfaff interview by the German TV. Anyway, I know by now how these interviews work: they will just cut and paste and make up some stuff to fill in the blanks to make something interesting for people to watch between commercials. My interview in Tomsk mentions that I have a wife and some motorcycle magazine has an article that says I have a girl in Perm. Nadya is an intelligent girl and knows better.

As soon as the interview is over I notice the workers looking at me and shaking their heads … the end of the road, they say. They motion me to take a look at my left cylinder. They have taken off the cylinder housing to expose the piston and crank gear. There appears to be some play in the bearing connecting the piston arm to the crankshaft. Not good indeed. Seryosha tells the men to take the engine into the factory to the engine department where they can take it apart and replace what is necessary. I have no time as the newspaper guy has shown up. Seryosha ushers me and the interviewer into his office and we do the interview. Once that is over we go back downstairs to take some pictures. It is not easy to pose on a motorcycle with a loose seat, loose gas tank and the engine missing, but the guy manages to snap some shots from and angle that will disguise this minor problem. In any case he will be able to fill the paper some more. Seryosha and I have a quick coffee and go into the factory to check how my engine is doing. About 5 workers are occupied with my engine. Among them a guy named Andrey who, according to the computer they have there, was the one that assembled my engine. It is great to see these men in action. It doesn’t take long for them to take the engine apart. In the process of reassembling they put in: a new crankshaft and piston arms; new pistons and piston rings; new seals and rubbers all over; new clutch; new teeth ring on the flywheel for the starter; and a new filter and new oil. Seryosha is there to keep everybody working as we are pressed for time. I keep saying that I will stay in Irbit as long as necessary, but Seryosha says everything will be okay by the end of the day. On the other hand, it is Friday today and I doubt the workers will come in over the weekend to help out a crazy Belgian. Anyway it is around 5pm when they can put the engine into the test station. They fire it up and the operator checks everything including power output. All is good except for the noise of the alternator. To make a long story short they hook up the original alternator to the new type of adapter to make the noise go away. They load up the engine and take it back to the workshop. There they have already installed: new springs on all shocks; a new sidecar drive shaft; new jerry can holder; new air filter box; new hoses for fuel, air and vacuum; new spare wheel and tire; new instrument cluster for “high-low” beam; and a new clutch control lever. They also checked and fixed: the sidecar bearing problem; the sidecar drive engagement lever; and increased the angle of my motorcycle in relation to the sidecar as my right cylinder was hitting the sidecar frame.

The bill for all of this was handed to Seryosha who neatly folded it a couple of times and put it in his pocket. I was not to worry about it and it was never mentioned again. I guess he will arrange it with the general director.

It was already getting late in the day. Before leaving the factory I of course had to meet the general director. So Seryosha escorted me to his office. The factory director and French designer were also there. I shook hands with all of them and thanked the general director and factory director for their help and hospitality. We talked a bit about my trip and the motorcycle and they were proud, but still a bit amazed. The general director gave me another pin to add to my collection. It was an honour for me to be in Irbit and get this marvellous reception. A big thank you to all involved.

The only thing I will have to live with for the rest of my life is the fact that I did not have my camera with me. Shame on me. I regret this very much as it was interesting to see the people in action. One also does not frequently have the opportunity to take a picture of your disassembled engine spread out across a table in the Irbit Motorcycle Plant. I forgot my camera in Vasili’s home and when I realized it was not with me Vasili had already left for work. In any case, I have the memories.

Once the work on my Ural was done, Seryosha stuffed one unused spring in my sidecar, a new oil filter and the old rubber hoses from my air filter box. I was good to go.

I started up my motorcycle and Seryosha got in his car to take me to a different location to store the bike overnight. In a hangar in the old part of the factory, my Ural was safely left for the night next to the Ural racing team vans.

As I was getting ready to get into Seryosha’s older Audi, we had a funny situation. Seryosha was on the phone and I motioned him to open the rear door. The doors of the Audi have to be opened from the inside, the outside door handles don’t work anymore. Well, they work, but need a strong Russian hand to open. For us westerners, they are broken. Anyway, the rear door opens and I put my backpack in the back. I close the door and try to open the front door. Of course it is stuck. Seryosha was still busy on the phone and quit paying attention to me a long time ago. He figured I was sitting in the back and took off while I was trying to open the front passenger door. It was already dark so he did not see me waving my arms like a mad man. I was not really panicking, but I was a bit worried to be left alone in this dark and dismal area that will remind many a person of the movie ‘Stalingrad’. About 300 meters further he realised I was not in the car and was flabbergasted. But as soon as he saw me approaching and I explained the situation we both had to laugh. He apologized, but there was no harm done, it was a very funny situation.

Seryosha took me to Vasili’s, but invited me to go with him and spend the night at his place. This is not the first time that I am caught in the middle of two people fighting over where I should stay. Well, it is not really a fight, but it is an uncomfortable situation for me. I like Vasili’s place, but would also like to stay at Seryosha’s because of all he has done for me. But it would not be polite to leave Vasili. In the end I manage to explain and all is good: I stay with Vasili. Seryosha will meet me in the morning to take me to the bike.

Vasili and his family are heading to a birthday party and of course I have to come along. When we get there, the party is already well underway and vodka and beer is generously poured. They also introduce me to a new beverage: samagon. This is a home made alcoholic beverage that resembles vodka. The only problem is that it can be really strong, so just to check they try to set it on fire. Luckily for me it does not burn, so it is under 50% alcohol content. They think it is safe to drink and since I am a guest, I cannot refuse. We have fun and laughs and I manage to leave without actually being too drunk. It was fun. The birthday boy gives me a flask filled with samagon to take along with me. I can take a sip whenever I feel cold, they tell me. Thank you for the gift.

I spend the night at Vasili’s one last time.

Forums in Russian about me

First and foremost a sincere thank you to the Russian and Ukrainian biker community. They have helped me tremendously and I am sure that my trip would have been very different without their assistance and support. I am in debt to them all. I hope they will visit Belgium so I can return the favor.

Russian forum:
http://sinus.vl.ru/forum/showthread.php?t=7158

Ukrainian forum:
http://www.moto.kiev.ua/forum/?fname=general&fp=0&trid=general/1161296639177&vp=0

12-10-2006

Tyumen - Irbit

My sleep was good but short as I want to make it to Irbit on time. After a cup of coffee, I meet Alexey outside and get my motorcycle out of the garage. Alexey and Lyosha do not like the sound of my engine. Well, I am keen on getting it looked at in the factory in Irbit, but am used to the sound my engine makes by now. I thank Alexey for everything. He is a good guy. I think I will see him again.

Lyosha guides me to the road I need to follow to get to Irbit. I thank him also for all his help. The road to Irbit is local road, but generally in good condition. Just one 5km stretch of gravel. Lyosha gave me the telephone number of Vasili in Irbit. Yesterday, I also had Lyosha call Marina from IMZ to tell her that I would be there the next day and I needed some service.

I ride into Irbit and head for the factory. After parking my motorcycle I call Vasili. He lives right across the factory and finds me immediately. His English is not so good, but we can communicate. He calls Marina in the factory and she gives him another contact. He calls Seryosha and shortly after he shows up. What he exactly does in the factory I do not know, but he has his own office and knows everybody. I do not remember meeting him during my first visit. He escorts me inside and takes me to the director’s lounge. There I bump into somebody I met in the UralRus office in Moscow. He is here for business reasons. I also see Andrey again, the director of production. He gave me the tour the last time I was here. We have coffee and cookies. Seryosha speaks some German and we manage to communicate. He is a nervous man, well either that or he just quit smoking. I have trouble keeping up with him when we walk around the factory. I explain him my troubles and he offers to have some workers look at the motorcycle. I hand over my keys and somebody drives my motorcycle to the workshop it was serviced in the last time I was at the factory. I also meet the lady that was my interpreter during my previous visit. She is glad to see me. She is still working here and met a lot of foreigners here during the summer. If I am not mistaken the European distributor for Ural organizes a pilgrimage to IMZ every summer. You can have a look at it at their site, but I personally think that you can have a lot more fun if you travel to Russia on your own. Anyway, the help and support I received from the European distributor (located in Austria) is easy to sum up: good luck and we will see what we can do when you have problems.

By the way, if I were in the market for a new Ural, I would look in to buying it in Russia and export it to Europe myself. The only real obstacle is the paperwork at the border, but it will definitely be cheaper that way. My apologies to all Ural dealers in Europe, but I think they make their money from servicing Urals, Dneprs and old BMWs.

Where was I … oh yes, the wish list. Seryosha is very interested in my adventure and organizes an interview with the local TV and newspaper for tomorrow. Seryosha gathers me and some employees around the motorcycle that is being exhibited in the lounge. I sum up all the problems I have had and what I would like fixed. Some of these things are covered by warranty, some not and I was aiming for some presents. Anyway, I figure there is no harm in asking and I go all the way: new “high-low” beam switch; new clutch control lever (it was a bit wobbly); repair the sidecar drive engageament lever on the final drive (it is also a bit wobbly); have a look at the carburators (current fuel consumption 10ltrs/100kms) and engine (some oil leaks and just general inspection); new oil and filter in the engine and transmission; inspect the sidecar wheel bearing; new wheel rim; 2 new tires; new cap for my jerry can; new holder for my jerry can; new shocks in the front and on the sidecar wheel; and last but not least a new air filter box. The guy taking notes is not really impressed by my achievement so far and says I will have to pay for some of the items on the list. I reply that he can make a price list for the items that are not covered by the warranty and I will then see what I will purchase. My budget is tight and if they are not in a giving mood … I will have to see what I can afford.

Once the wish list is completed I have to attend a meeting in Andrey’s office. All the different production department heads are present there and just want to hear me out. I explain the specifics of my motorcycle and trip so far. I complement them on making a fine product. My only remarks are the bad electrical connectors, the silly air filter box design and the drive shafts could use grease nipples to extend their lifespan. The 2007 model year will feature an automotive grade electrical system which will do away with the fuse box beside the front left fork (this is new to me and I will have to look into this). The 2006 model year already features a new air filter box (I know, that is the one I want). The grease nipples are an interesting idea and they know the drive shaft for the sidecar drive is not really very good (I guess this will be food for more thought to the designers). It is a quick meeting and they thank me for my input and wish me well for the rest of my journey. Once outside the office I bump into Jean, a French guy. He is the designer of the new engine that IMZ is working on to be in accordance with the euro-3 norm. I would have loved to talk more to him, but he is very busy and Seryosha wants to take me to a hotel for the night. Once in the car Vasili calls me and asks if I would not prefer to stay at his place. I like the company of people and it would definitely extend the lifespan of my budget, so I accept. Vasili’s flat is right across the factory. I even get a room overlooking the main entrance … what more can an Uralist wish for? Vasili shows me his collection of pictures. He also made the trip to Vladivostok a couple of years ago on an Ural, but without sidecar. After dinner Vasili invites me to tag along to the local billiards hall to have a drink, but I am very tired and just want to get some sleep. A lot needs to be done tomorrow.

11-10-2006

Tyumen

I want to get to Irbit so plan to leave today. Before leaving however, I want to meet Alexey and Nazareth again. These are the bikers I met the first time I was in Tyumen. This is the Alexey that gave me my medal: za dalnyy pagod. I have his number and he is glad to hear me when I call him. We decide to meet at the Route 66 kafe in an hour or two. That gives me some time to shop, pack my stuff and get the bike. When Lyosha and I arrive at the kafe, Alexey is already there. Yes indeed, he still looks like the Russian equivalent of our Sergio. Only Belgians will understand this.

We eat, drink beer and talk. I show them my pictures on my laptop. They are all very interested. It is already late in the day and it would be silly to head for Irbit now, so I decide to stay one more night. Alexey lives near Lyosha and offers to store my bike in his garage which is actually just around the corner. This will save us the trouble of a taxi. Alexey also offers to take me to the hot springs 30kms from Tyumen. I have never been to any hot springs before and accept the invitation. He will pick me up around midnight. To kill time a handful of bikers and non-bikers drop by Lyosha’s home to talk to me and empty a bottle of vodka. It was an interesting evening. Around 1:00am Alexey and his wife show up with their car. Lyosha, his wife and me get in and we head for the hot springs. The first location we stop at is the indoor type of hot spring. Unfortunately this site is closed today for some reason. We have to go another 10kms. This next location is an open air hot spring. You can actually park your car next to the water. The air is cold, but the water very warm judging from the clouds of vapour. Despite the late hour we are not alone here. We can change into our swimming gear in the car. From there it is a race to the warm water. It is very nice and invigorating in the water. The fountain that is the actual spring is very hot and once you are used to that temperature, the rest of the pool feels cold. Anyway, we spend a couple of hours in there and when we leave people are still showing up. Around 5:00am we are back in Tyumen.

10-10-2006

Abatskoye - Tyumen

I slept well. I look out the window to check on my bike … great, it kept snowing during the night and it is still snowing. The relentless wind is also still blowing in the same direction. My bike is covered in snow. After my shower I start setting the wheels in motion. I talk to the hotel administrators and ask for directions to a service station for my Ural. They scratch their heads, start calling people and ask some guys that are working nearby. After an hour of asking around, they tell me to wait until the lunch break and then somebody will tow me to a service station. And indeed, at 12 o’clock my Ural is hooked up to a Lada Niva and we drive to the service station two blocks away. The snow is about 10cm deep. I only need to wait a little while before I can push my Ural in to the shop. After the usual questions, laughs and congratulations they start working on my bike. It doesn’t take long for the mechanic to make it going again. And all it took was 2 new spark plugs. I feel silly, but I’m glad it runs again. Cost: 200 rubles. I buy an extra set of spark plugs just in case it happens again on my way to Irbit. I just NEED the new air filter box.

I go back to the hotel to get my luggage and continue my ride to Tyumen. My darling Nadya has arranged a contact for me there. The ride to Tyumen is cold. It keeps snowing to about 100-150 kms from Tyumen. The clouds open up and it is good to see the sun again even though she is already very low on the horizon. I stop at a kafe to eat and try to dry my socks and boots. They are soaking wet again and my feet are freezing. Doug left me his travel hair dryer, so that should to the trick. In my best Russian I manage to get the kafe offitsyant to let me use a power outlet. I take of my boots and socks and start warming my feet. That is of course as far as the story goes, since the damn hair dryer just does not want to blow any more. I’m sorry, Doug, I don’t know what happened, I will send you a new one once I am in Belgium. At least my feet are warmer now. I just put on my socks and boots, thank all involved and go on my way.

Once I reach Tyumen I contact Lyosha. Lyosha is on the Sinus help list and Nadya has already talked to him to explain my story. We agree to meet at the main post office which is conveniently located on Lenin Square in the centre of the city. He lives nearby and he escorts me to his home. After dinner we go to park the bike in a garage about 5 kms away. Not really a problem. I also experience a typical Russian tradition: just stretch out your arm at the side of the road and eventually a car will stop. Naturally this is not an official taxi, but it if he wants to go your way and the price is right, you just hop in and of he goes. Lyosha’s home is a work in progress and has been that for a couple of years. He lost his job during the renovation of his flat and nothing has happened since. Anyway, it is none of my business and I am just thankful and glad to have a place to sleep.

09-10-2006

Omsk – Abatskoye

It was cold and rainy when I left Omsk. Ruslan escorted me to the city limits on his motorcycle, but after we said goodbye he was going to clean his bike and store it in his garage for the winter. Russian bikers do not ride in the winter. It is understandable when you know what their winters are like.

Anyway, it was the type of rain that could keep up for days on end: not big drops, but no drizzle either. The sky was depressingly grey. Once I left Omsk Mother Nature added a strong side wind to that just to make it a bit colder and harder for me to escape the rain behind my windscreen. After about 200kms my engine started to sputter. Of course the crappy, crappy air filter box was sucking in water like crazy. I stop to drain the carbs and clean the spark plugs at a bus stop where I was sheltered from the rain … but not the cold. The engine sort of works again as it should, so I go on. I just have to make it 600 more kms to Irbit, there they will sort everything out. My gas mileage is about 10 liters per 100 kms. Not really according to specs. 10 kms down the road the engine stalls, I just drain the carbs and manage to get the engine going again. I continue. By now everything is getting wet, even my socks in my waterproof boots and my Rubles in my waterproof pocket. Needless to say, my mood is not good. At km marker 219 the engine stalls again. I am in the middle of nowhere, it is raining and the strong wind is relentless. Before I try to make my machine going again I pray to God to send a bolt of lightning down to the designer of my air filter box. I did not hear anything, so I guess Irbit is still far away.

You have to work with the tools you have, so I try to shield the intake of the air filter from the elements as much as possible with a plastic bag and some snap straps. The inventor of the “snap strap” (colsonbanneke for the Belgians) should get a medal. Naturally, my first attempt blocks the air intake and choked the engine. My second modification is better and looks like it will work … if I can only make the engine going again. It ran for a while, but only on one cylinder. Different spark plugs are no help and I guess changing spark plug in the rain is not a good idea. To make a two hour story short: my Ural would not go. By now I have drained the battery from using the starter and I am sweating from using the kick start. This makes me feel nice and warm only for a while as the cold wind and the fact that I am wet cool me off quickly. For an hour I try to make a car stop to help me out, but this road has more trucks than cars and not everybody wants to stop. It is around seven o’clock when finally a car stops. It stops raining too as the rain has now become snow. The old guy with his Lada Niva is from the Kemerovskaya Oblast and knows about me. He has read an article in the paper. Anyway, he is happy to help me out and I get out my towing rope and hook up our vehicles. He goes slow, about 40 kms/h but at least we are moving. 40 kms down the road, about an hour later we get to Abatskoye. Need I mention that I am soaking wet and shivering from the cold? Anyway, we find a hotel and I check in. The room is warm but extremely moist, my boots and gloves were not dry by the morning. What a day. I feel really down and want to talk to Nadya but I do not have enough credits on my cell phone. There are no stores around the hotel that sell mts or beeline cards. CRAP!! I do have enough credits to send an SMS to Nadya and the poor girl goes out to buy a card for me a couple of blocks from her home in the middle of the night. I receive the code I need, but have meanwhile fallen asleep in front of the TV. When I wake up in the middle of the night I finally recharge my credit and call Nadya. Despite the crazy hour we are both glad to talk to each other. I feel much better. By the way, it is still snowing outside.

I will take my bike to an expert in the morning.

08-10-2006

Barabinsk – Omsk

The ride to Omsk is cold and dull. I’m just happy it is not raining. In Novosibirsk they gave me the telephone number of a biker in Omsk called Krokodil. I could not get him on the phone, but this was actually a good thing. It gave me a chance to call my friend Ruslan. You may remember him. He was the biker that was standing next to the road when I was heading to Novosibirsk in July. His bike had a broken camshaft.

I call Ruslan from a kafe just outside Omsk and we agree to meet somewhere in the center. In Belgium it is easy to find the center of a city or town: just find the church. In Russia this is somewhat different, but if you find Lenin, you’re in the center of town. So I follow the main road into the city and park my bike in front of Lenin. After I take a photo I call Ruslan. A couple of minutes later he arrives. He escorts me to his home. He is a tattoo and piercing master. He doesn’t drink, so no vodka or beer. That’s OK, Russia has not yet made an alcoholic out of me. We eat and talk and watch photos on his computer. He did not think that I would call him, but he is happy that I did. I am happy too, he is an interesting guy. He is also glad that my Russian has improved as he does not speak a lot of English. Anyway, we go to sleep late, but have to get up early to get my motorcycle of the parking lot.

07-10-2006

Novosibirsk – Barabinsk

It was late last night. This morning I woke up around 10am and panicked for a minute: where is Nadya? It is probably a sign. I miss her very, very much. The “Chateau Migraine” we had last night made me stay in bed until 11am because of a mild headache. I have a quick breakfast and go on my way. I thank Sergey for his hospitality.

The temperature is around 2 Celsius and it still snows now and then. I still get cold on the bike. The landscape is flat and dull. I just ride. I’ve been here before and try to spot things I noticed last time.

I reach Barabinsk before dusk and check in to the hotel that was full the last time I was here. It is clean and warm, but the administrator is either not having her day or she is forced to work her. I am not sure. The fact that I do not understand all she yells at me does not make her any friendlier. The room features an interesting radiator. The bed is large and nice, but I would be much happier if Nadia were here … how I miss her.

06-10-2006

Kemerovo - Novosibirsk

Leaving Nadya (for now)

Upon returning from our trip to the Altay I told Nadya this would be my last week and that I had to go soon. She didn’t really want to hear that. Actually, neither did I.

When we said our goodbyes today we both had to cry. I hate leaving her, but have obligations in Belgium. I will go back to Nadya for a week in November and she will visit me for 2 or 4 weeks in January. I am already looking forward to that.

As I am writing this I long to be with Nadya again. My trip to Belgium now feels like an unavoidable obstacle. I just want to get there as soon as possible and plan how she and I can be together again. Nevertheless, I will try to enjoy the experience.

When I left Kemerovo the temperature was around 0 Celsius. The sky was grey and sometimes it would snow lightly. The trip to Novosibirsk was nothing different. The only problem is that I got very cold after an hour of driving. I stop and put on my thermal underwear. It helps but I should have done this sooner as I am not really warming up, I’m just not getting colder. Anyway, I’m getting hungry so I stop at a kafe to eat and warm up again. Despite the windscreen and heated grips I still get cold after about 2 hours of driving. I am almost in Novosibirsk now and stop for a hot coffee. Nadya gave me the telephone number of Anton. He helped me unload my motorcycle from the train. His English is very good and he can put me up for the night. I just need to make it to Akademgorodok, a suburb of Novosibirsk. There was heavy traffic in the city, so it takes me a little over an hour to ride the 25kms to Akademgorodok. This is were we spent the night after unloading the bike from the train; the bike show was also not far from here so I can find my way around here without a map.

Anton takes me to a friend of his, Sergey. He has a place for me to sleep. Sergey hears that I need a tent and would be happy to sell his tent to me for an interesting price. I don’t want to spend my time shopping around Novosibirsk in the morning and the color of his tent is subdued enough to suit me so I buy it. In Kemerovo I found a good tent, but sadly enough it was all yellow. I just do not feel comfortable sleeping in a tent that screams: “here’s a tourist with pockets full of money sleeping all by himself”. I’m sorry, Jerry.

We watch a couple of episodes of “Lost” in Russian while we eat and drink. Their local internet provider also offers a LAN where people can find a huge collection of movies and series on-line to watch.

Waar is m'n wollen muts nu, waar is m'n dikke sjaal?

Hello everybody,

Russia just keeps on giving. As a farewell gift, the city of Kemerovo has given me a wonderful present: the first snow for the season. It is defenitely time for me to go. I am leaving today. Direction: Novosibirsk, Omsk.

The Russian biker community is very interested in my adventures. In their forum they have dedicated a chapter to "the Belgian travelling across all of Russia". I will post the address later.

Bye for now,
Dominik

me on the web

I found a nice article about me on the internet. It dates from my stay in Nahodka.

http://vn.vladnews.ru/issue531/Special_reports/Biking_beat_of_life

1 month at Nadya’s

1 month at Nadya’s

September may have been a break on my roundtrip from Westerlo to Vladivostok, but I am sure it is the beginning of a new chapter: Nadya and me.
Nadyushka, words can not describe how much I love you. I hate to go, but sadly enough the cold reality of the world we live in compels me to head back to Belgium. Not using the word ‘home’ is done deliberately. There is an English saying that says: home is where the heart is. Nadya has captured my heart and it belongs to her. Plans are already being made for us (Nadya, Tonya and me) to be reunited indefinitely, be it in Russia or Belgium or wherever.

Anyway, Nadya had to go to work during the day and I kept myself busy with whatever until she got home. I was not bored for one second as a lot of things could be done: the dishes, laundry, vacuuming, shopping, studying Russian, going for a walk or to the internet café or just relaxing while listening to music.
The first weekend in Kemerovo was already fully booked with the sooner than expected arrival of my motorcycle in Novosibirsk. The train was to arrive at 2am and would stay for an hour. We decided to go to a Thay boxing show at the tsirk (permanent circus). I was nice to see although I prefer MMA (mixed martial arts). We decided to see the whole show and thus missed the last bus to Novosibirsk. No problem, taxis are happy to take you on the 3 to 4 hour ride to there although the fare is higher than the bus. As you may remember the trains work on Moscow time. Novosibirsk is 1 hour ahead of Kemerovo. Needless to say that I was a bit worried and triple checked our time calculations. We arrived in Novosibirsk on time, even after a small detour thanks to an orientation error of our driver. Nadya had contacted some bikers in Novosibirsk to give us a hand with unloading and assembling the motorcycle. In my view this was not really necessary as I was planning to do everything myself, it would just take a bit longer and I hate to disrupt their evening. It turned out I was once again underestimating the whole operation. The train floor was about 1.5 metres higher than the platform. The only help you get from the railroad staff is that they point out your cargo and where to sign on the release form. My sidecar was not crated and the crate around my motorcycle was not more than a wooden frame. The help from the Novosibirsk bikers turned out to be a necessity and I am of course forever grateful. Beside handing some tools all I had to do was watch as they unloaded and reassembled my Ural. My sidecar spotlight was removed and stored in my sidecar. My horn and binoculars were nowhere to be found. I hope they make somebody happy as I am not going to give it a second thought. I am just happy that is all that went missing. These are expendable items … although I really liked my horn and it was a very good pair of binoculars. :-( The train was actually stuffed with motorcycles and the platform was stuffed with people waiting to unload their cargo. I greeted some bikers from Tomsk I met during my trip. After my motorcycle was assembled our plan to return to Kemerovo the same night was quickly altered as we were invited to spend the night at the garage/hangout of the Novosibirsk bikers. Once at the location, which was quietly located in the middle of a garage block, beer and snacks were produced and we talked and drank until the sun came up. The next day we said our goodbyes and headed back to Kemerovo sometime in the afternoon. It was late when we opened the door to Nadya’s apartment. Poor Nadya was cold and exhausted and had to go to work in the morning.
The next weekend we went to a concert of Okean Elzie, an Ukrainian band, again in the tsirk. It was very good. They sang in Ukrainian, but it is not so different from Russian I guess since Nadya understood what they were singing.
The first week of September, via Nadya I got into contact with Albert, a professor of English at the Kemerovo University of Arts and Culture. He invited me to his classes were I talked to the students about my adventures in Russia … in English. Some did not understand English, some got the gist and most asked me questions in Russian. It was fun and interesting for the students and I enjoyed it too. I was introduced to the other professors, had tea with deans from several departments and was shown around the university. Very interesting. Albert is a great guy. He is a Russian and has lived in the States for many years. He is now back in Russia to take care of his mother because his father passed away last year. He likes talking to me and I like talking to him. His English is perfect.
The second weekend of September Nadya and me went to the bike show in Novosibirsk. Nadya’s cousin Sasha and his girlfriend Tanya joined us. We left Kemerovo around 4pm which is a bit late, but we can make it there by dusk if all goes well. Guess what … all did not go well. About 40 kilometres out of Kemerovo Nadya’s Ural breaks down. After a quick inspection it looks like the coil is broken. Nadya is keen on getting to the bike show and we decide to tow her to the next big town to find a replacement coil. Our advance is slow. There are many hills on the road to Novosibirsk and my Ural has a lot of work towing Nadya’s machine, luggage and 4 people. We make it into Yurga, but the local parts store has already closed. We stop for a while to observe the Russian army as they cross the newly constructed asphalt road with their APC’s. They have the brains to put down some sort of wooden covering to keep the caterpillartracks (rupsband) from eating the road. I don’t know if it worked, but the tracks were splintering the wood like crazy and there was still a long line of vehicles waiting to cross. I did not take pictures because I do not want to spend the rest of my life in some Russian labour camp as a convicted spy. We left Yurga again after a cup of coffee and bundling up for what was to be a long cold ride into Novosibirsk. Kemerovo – bike show is about 280kms. The good thing about a bike show is that you do not have to worry about waking people up if you arrive in the middle of the night. We were all exhausted and wanted to hit the sack ASAP. We found a good spot, set up our tent and … were invited for vodka and beer around the campfire. Somebody had brought a banjo and everybody was singing. It was fun. I met Nikolai (my host from Krasnoyarsk). He was glad to see me and I was glad to see him. He is a cool guy and plays the banjo like the guys from “Deliverance”. He insisted I sing a sea chanty in Dutch. I do not know the full text of “Als de klok van Arnemuiden” so I decided to sing “Piet Hein”. They loved it.
The next day set out to find replacement parts. A local biker showed us to the Ural parts store which also featured a nice motorcycle parts market right on the sidewalk. I probably parked my motorcycle too close to this market as some people asked me how much I wanted for my machine. The vendors came over to inspect my Ural and were very interested. Needless to say they had never seen one before and did not have any of the special parts.
Back at our campsite Nadya’s bike was the center of attention. After the initial work by a local Novosibirsk biker, a professional Ural repair guy showed up and helped out. This guy is Suchov from Barnaul. A man we will meet again later on. He did not finish before dusk and would continue the next day, but he said it looked promising. Campfire time again, but I took it easy this time.
The next day I had to get out my tools again for Suchov to finish his work on the motorcycle. It ran for a while, but eventually started to stall all the time and the gears were making a terrible whining noise. Nadya was not happy. Everybody was heading home. The machine was in need of a major overhaul. Suchov has a masterskaya (professional motorcycle repair) in Barnaul. He will be happy to look at the bike there. We were planning to go to the Altay anyway, so we can drop off the bike when we pass through Barnaul. Troubles for later, now we had to get back to Kemerovo. After towing a motorcycle for 200kms you can say that you have the hang of it. On the way back to Kemerovo we broke 1 towing rope and almost froze to death. Thank God that it was not raining. We got to bed after midnight.

Nadya went to work the next day to arrange her leave for the next two weeks. We are going to the Altay mountains. We rested a couple of days and spent some long overdue time with Tonya. It took us two days to get Barnaul. We spent the night in an old trailer converted to a dwelling behind a café situated on the border of the Kemerovskaya Oblast and Altayski Kray for 150 rubles. It was rainy and cold. Yet another 300 something kms of towing an Ural. I am now a towing expert.
We reached Suchov’s masterskaya without any problems and spent the night in Suchov’s apartment. The next day Nadya had to shop for new shoes and we paid a visit to a friend of Nadya’s, Mila, we also met at the Novosibirsk bike show. In the late afternoon we went back to the masterskaya to learn what needed to be done to make the old Ural run again. The price is high if you know what the average wage is here. But the repairs are required. Suchov will have the work finished by the time we get back. I buy and install a new battery. My current battery is almost dead and does not have enough power to run the starter. In the evening Suchov invites us to the local biker bar. A very nicely decorated bar. We spent the night again at Suchov’s and left for Gorno-Altaisk the next day. The weather was good. We are not in a hurry, it is a holiday an we spend the night in Gorno-Altaisk. Looking for a gastinitsa in Russia is a challenge most of the time. Gorno is not different. We had signs indicating the direction on the main road, but after that you are required to ask people for directions. We are eventually directed to the right place and find it. I still cannot understand how because the sign on the fence of the gastinitsa is about 5 by 20 cm. Try spotting that at dusk. The door of the gastinitsa is locked. We push the button (that hopefully makes a bell ring somewhere) several times. Nothing happens. We go into the café on the other side of the building and they inform us that the gastinitsa is indeed open for business and that we should push the button if the door is locked. The offitsiant of the café goes away for a while and when she comes back she tells us she just talked to the administrator of the gastinitsa: the button does not work properly and one needs to push hard and upwards a bit. My blood pressure is already rising slightly. We go to the other side of the building again. Of course the door is still locked. The administrator knows guests are coming, but she is probably programmed to only respond to the bell. My blood pressure goes up some more. We push the button hard, soft, fast, slow, up, down and sideways … and yes indeed the administrator shows up. It is good that I do not speak Russian. Judging from the tone of her voice and the expression on the administrator’s face and the response of Nadya I get the idea that it is apparently our fault and that we should have pushed the button properly. My blood pressure is now high and if my knowledge of Russian would have been better I would have told her my two cents and where to shove her gastinitsa. Anyway, we have a bed and can take a shower. All is well.
We are on our way to Kuray, 30kms after Aktash. After Gorno the landscape slowly but surely gets more mountainous and we make our way over a couple of passes. The altitude is high. I don’t know exactly how high, but maybe 1500, 2000 metres or more. My carbs are having problems with this and my speed gradually decreases as I near the top. I know this can be a problem with carbs, but have no clue what to adjust. They need to be serviced anyway because they cause my engine to sputter a couple of times when I kill the contact. Anyway, in Kuray we leave the main road to head for the Aktru Glacier over local roads. The info on where to go to was provided by Suchov. He used to live in Gorno and knows the region very well. He is a hiking and rafting guide. I am a bit apprehensive of local roads: the quality is very bad and road signs are non-existent. Suchov said not to worry, there is only one road leading to the glacier. He gave me a map of the area as a present. Nadya double checks the directions and road conditions at the local road services office. After asking for some more directions in the town we are directed towards the only bridge over the river. They also say, you cannot go wrong, there is only one road and one bridge. 100 metres out of town the ‘one’ road starts to split in a multitude of tracks. We just sort of chose the one that led us as straight as possible in the direction we needed to go. We reach the bridge that will hopefully stay intact until we return from the glacier. Once across the bridge the ‘one’ road again splits in multiple tracks and I choose the one leading us as best as possible in the direction we need to go. The road, well it is more like a track actually, constantly splits and has other roads joining it. The area we are passing through here is called the Altay Steppe. You actually do not need roads, you can just drive over the steppe and I end up just orienting with the topographical map. Nadya and I have the classical disagreement on where we are on the map and whereto we should go. We have to wade through a couple of creeks. The track gets very rough and the altitude is making my engine stall, I have no power. We are forced to continue on foot. I don’t really like it. I am wearing my motorcycle clothes, rather uncomfortable for hiking uphill. All we take with us is a flashlight, some candy and our coats. I am not in the mood for hiking, but carry on because Nadya wants to go. Anyway, I estimate it is about 8 kms to the glacier. We need to get back so that makes 16kms in total. It is late in the afternoon and I figure we will be returning when the sun has already set. I am really not in the mood for the hike, but Nadya wants to go. We eventually reach the lake near the glacier at dusk. We learnt from another hiker we met that the glacier is another 4kms from here. I think it would be crazy to go on and after enjoying the view we head back. The lake is very wide and because of the low water level now it is mostly a lake of glacier sediment. The wind stirs up the dust. The view is breathtaking and I am grateful to Nadya for dragging me up here. We head back and along the way we meet the same hiker again. He is the administrator of a turbaza near the lake. He invites us to stay there and explore the glacier in the morning, but I am already stressing out for leaving my motorcycle behind for the hike. I absolutely do not want to leave it there unattended overnight. We reach the bottom of the mountain and stay in the cabin of an abandoned turbaza. My motorcycle is a little further down the road. I want it near the cabin and rev the heck out of the engine to make it reach the cabin. We make a campfire outside and have a stove inside. It is a good thing that we stocked up on food before leaving town. The night is cold so we cuddle close together. In the morning we continue our Altay trip and head back to Aktash. In Aktash we again leave the main road and head into the mountains to Ulagan. The new batteries we bought for the camera are not up to specs (but are the only ones we could find) and we can only make pictures with the cell phone, a shame since the scenery was very beautiful. As we got closer to Ulagan it started raining. Nadya and I were cold and craved a warm cup of coffee or tea. Upon entering Ulagan we stop at the first magasin we see and ask for directions to a kafe. The sad reality of these remote villages in the Altay is a major alcohol problem. Everybody around the magasin was drunk and instead of pointing us to a kafe they just mumbled some remarks they thought were funny. We eventually find a kafe and to our surprise none of the kafes in the Altay sell vodka, instead they have a huge selection of beers in bottles ranging from 0.5 to 3 litres. For vodka you need to go to a magasin. Needless to say they have a lot of magasins in Ulagan. We sip our coffee and try to get warm again. Our destination is Teletskoye Lake about 130 kms out of Ulagan, but probably a bit more. This is off-road driving. The ‘one’ road to Teletskoye Lake of course splits into multiple tracks again … I still have no clue why they cannot just follow the main road, it seems to me that everybody has a different idea on what the best track is as all are well used and not just the result of one idiot trying to find a shortcut. Anyway, it is raining, foggy, slippery roads winding along mountain sides … we are cold and it will be dark soon. In the last settlement we passed through we learned that there is no gas station at our destination. Gas will probably be available from a local, but will they have 92??? What if there is no gas for a couple of days? With the fog and the rain there is noting much to see anyway. We still had a dangerous descend ahead of us to the river which we needed to follow to the lake. Along the river we would have to cross some streams as there are no bridges here. To make a long story short, I was not in the mood to go to the lake. Maybe the rain and the cold got to me, but I just wanted to be back in Kemerovo. I could only see the negative sides no matter how much Nadya try to lift my spirits. We decided to head back and find a warm gastinitsa with shower. A pretty tall order here in the Altay. We reach Ulagan and see signs for a gastinitsa. Of course the signs lead nowhere and all the people we ask have no clue of a gastinitsa or give us all different directions. It is getting late. When we stop for a while to discuss what we will do now I notice my tent is missing. I am sure I put it back on the luggage rack this morning and secured it properly. The fastening hooks are also not as I would normally attach them. It is possible that it did fall out, but all through my journey across Russia it has never budged. We figure it was probably stolen when we stopped at the last kafe. A pitty … I sort of liked that tent but there is no use crying over spilt milk. We have been all over Ulagan, dodging drunks lying on or zigzagging across the road, we are fed up with this town and decide to head for Aktash where we now for sure there is a gastinitsa. 20kms out of Aktash we stop for a cup of coffee at a turbaza. It is very cold. Nadya asks if they can maybe put us up for the night. They have a cabin, no heating and power here is provided by a generator. We decide to call it a day and take the cabin. It is freezing cold, but we have a lot of warm blankets to cuddle up under. When we wake up the next morning the condensation on the window is frozen. My Ural is white from the ice. The small waterfall a little further down the road has icicles. I am not an expert, but it must have been very cold last night for this to happen overnight. To us it is an affirmation of the fact that we have to head back to Kemerovo. The Altay is very beautiful, but July and August are the only good months for touring it. On the way back we are spared from rain, but sun as well. The wind is blowing fiercely. We check out some prehistoric rock carvings, very interesting. Anyway, we make it back to Barnaul two days later. It was fun and the scenery was breathtaking, but the weather was not with us. We will have to come back next summer as the Altay has even more to offer.
We reach Barnaul rather late and spend the night at Mila’s who is so kind as to arrange a banya for us at one of her friends. The next day we go to Suchov’s masterskaya to find Nadya’s Ural working like a charm. I change my oil and filter and tighten some nuts and bolts. I also purchase a windscreen. Suchov assembles and installs it free of charge and also gives me the Ural grip protectors. It is in the afternoon and I don’t feel like taking off now, we will leave in the morning. Suchov puts us up for the night. The next morning we pick up Nadya’s bike and get going. Just after the Barnaul DPS checkpoint, Nadya’s Ural again brakes down. It runs, but bad and slow. We go back to the masterskaya and Suchov takes the whole machine apart again. He replaces some parts and it runs OK again. It is again late and we spend the night at Suchov’s again. The next day he, his girlfriend and another biker are going to Leninsk-Kuznetsk to attend the birthday party of a biker there. This city is along our way so we decide to go together. 30kms out of Barnaul Nadya’s machine breaks down again. Suchov takes it apart to find a bad valve. Spare parts for old Urals are abound in Russia, so they just head in to the nearest town and find the required part. Once back together again all is OK. We have lost a lot of time here, Nadya and I have a lot of kms to cover still. For some reason it is rather warm that evening and it is easy riding all the way until they stop us at the Kemerovo DPS checkpoint. Just a routine check I guess and we can carry on, but it starts raining. It is still about 10kms, so enough to get soaking wet. It is once more late in the night before we get to bed. Poor Nadya is exhausted and has to go to work the next day. We were on the road for about a week and a half.

My last week in Kemerovo has started. I relaxed the first two days and caught up on my emails. I planned my route back to Belgium. It will be a 7000km trip to reach Westerlo again. I will stop in Irbit again to get some repairs done.
During my ‘lectures’ at the university I learned of another Flemish guy staying in Kemerovo. Some fancy searching on my part leads me to his email address and I contact him. We decide to meet for a talk. Tom Verlinden is a translator (Russian-English) from Mechelen that lives in Kemerovo with his Russian wife. He works at home. They are expecting their first baby in November. Thank you Tom for finding the time to leave your wife and have a beer with me. It was a very nice conversation. The topic does not matter, I was an incredible feeling for me to speak Flemish again in the middle of Siberia. We generally just talked about Russia and Russians and how it all compares to Belgium. It was interesting. Thank you.
That evening we were invited to the local biker hangout to meet some Kemerovo bikers and a guy, Sam, from New Zealand. He is traveling to France and bought an old Ural in Irkutsk. He has had a lot of adventures so far and is traveling on a very tight budget. He is a cool guy and I wish him the best. Maybe we will meet up again on the road and he might even drop by in Belgium.
The next day Nadya takes me to the movies. We go to the “KOCMOC” kinotheater. Besides the movies being dubbed in Russian, they have numbered seats and you can choose seats in different price ranges, like in a theatre or stadium. How different things can be in other countries. One more thing, you can bring whatever food or beverages you want into the cinema. So we went shopping before we entered the cinema to watch “Perfume” or “Parfyumer” as they call it here. It is a relaxed movie, not a fast action movie, so they spoke slow and clear enough for me to understand the gist. It was a very good movie … Dustin Hoffman can speak excellent Russian.
On Friday we met the Professor (Sergey from Tomsk) again. He and a friend were passing through to go to the Krasnojarsk end-of-season bike show. He also invited us, but we had other things planned. Anyway, it was good to see the Professor again. He did not bring the disc with my interview, but will ship it once he gets back home.
On Saturday we went to see the Tomskii pisanitsa. These are prehistoric rock carvings along the river Tom. Nadya’s cousin Sasha joined us. The carvings are interesting but sadly enough vandalism and normal natural decay of the rock have damaged it badly. The camera they have installed now to observe the visitors is too late. In the evening we went to Nadya’s uncle to have a banya and spend the night. A lot of beer was consumed…
On Monday the Professor passed through Kemerovo again on his way back to Tomsk. I gave him a disc with my pictures, he also gave me a ride to the garage and his friend insisted I sing a part of “Piet Hein” again. They had met Nikolai in Krasnoyarsk who was curious to learn how I was and who told them about my performance in Novosibirsk. What a small world we live in. Once at the garage I had to go to the local TV station for and interview. A friend of Albert is an anchorman for Rambler Kemerovo and he wanted to interview me. It was quick but very good, his English was very good.