ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The bike had pinned me. No matter how I tried to scoot I was trapped. And I was not able to use my right arm to help pull me out.  I knew the rear wheel had come out from under me, but I could not figure out how it had happened as I tried to get out from under the running machine. 

My Mongolian summer stopped abruptly 3 hours east of Bayan Olgii, Mongolia about 11:45 a.m. on Wednesday July 9. Our group consisted of Tom Bosman, my Belgian roommate and travel companion for the past 40 days, Uwe the German motorcycle mechanic working in Sweden, Chris the Australian adventure rider, and Thomas, the German engineer with enough guts to travel to Mongolia by himself.

The Road to Bayan Olgii from Russia

 We had met two days earlier on the Russian-Mongolian border high in the Altai. It did not take long for everyone to agree that it was safer and best to travel as a group. So after a long and cold border crossing we had checked into the Blue Wolf Gert Camp in Bayan Olgii for a couple days and were underway on Wednesday morning. It was just about lunch time and we were looking for the lakeshore to have lunch. 

There are few paved or maintained gravel roads in Mongolia, or so I had been told. There were a few short stretches of paving near major towns. But we were nowhere near a town and had been on dirt all morning. So I was not surprised when we had to cross a dry wash. It was a bit steep and the approaches were rutted, but did not look dangerous. As I got on the opposite side I had to ride the crest of some erosion, and when I did my rear wheel lost some traction just as my front hit a crevice. So the front stopped. The rear kept going. And I ended up underneath.

Mongolia for as far as the eye can see

The impact tore my right pannier off the bike, drove my right shoulder into the rocky soil separating my arm in the socket, and landed on my right foot tearing the leather off the boot and spraining the ankle. I yelled for someone to turn off the bike, which was done and then the machine was pulled off of me. I thought it would be alright until I took off my coat and felt the huge lump on my right shoulder. This would not be good.

The decision was made to go to what looked like a village about 2 km away to seek some help. I could not ride. About 30 minutes later a Toyota Land Cruiser appeared with “the Doctor”. The village was a Chinese titanium mine and the doctor was their medical officer. I did not ask to see his diploma or certificates. I was happy for any help. But it was all in Mongolian and Russian. They injected some pain killers and I sat there shirtless as time went by.

About 1 p.m. I was informed that this was a mine and that they could not use the company equipment to transport me to a hospital in Bayan Oglii. But they did not kick me out of the Land Cruiser.

Downtown Bayan Olgii

 By now Tom and the others had moved my bike to the mine. It was apparent there was not much my friends could do and I told them it was alright to go on without me. I thought I would have to hire a car from town to come out and get me. 

 

Then one of the miners asked if I would pay to ride to the hospital. They wanted $250. I said OK and a phone call was made. The lady on the phone spoke English and informed me they needed $200 to transport me to the hospital in Olgii. I said Ok and my stuff was loaded in the Toyota. I was taken back by three guys – the Doctor, the brothere of the lady on the phone , and another guy. 

For the next 2 ½ hours I bumped along back to Bayan Olgii. It was pretty brutal because by now my injuries were starting to really hurt. I could not lay down. I had to hang on with my remaining good arm.  

When we got to town I was not taken to the hospital. Instead I was informed the guys had to get back to the mine. So I dug out $200 and handed it over. I was loaded shirtless into the car of the lady, who spoke great English. Mairash and Tolepbergen, her husband, would eventually be my ticket out of Mongolia. She was going to take me to the State hospital but I said a private hospital was good too. So she brought me to Dr. Kabil. He took a look at me and figured out I had separated or dislocated the right shoulder. He injected pain killer and proceeded to pop me together. It was meatball medicine. No preliminary X-ray because that was at the state hospital. But after it was done he called his buddy at the state hospital and I was taken over there for X-ray just to make sure I had been put back together properly. It was explained, in  Mongolian, that I had no broken bones. So they did what they could for me. 

Then Mairash took me to the best hotel in town, which is not much. She told me that on the next day she would help me retrieve the motorcycle. And then I was on my own. I went out and filled a prescription for some pain killers given by the Dr. Kabil. I found some food and went to bed.

Mairash and Tolepbergan - took care of me and my bike

 

Thursday morning I slept in. My pain was now very intense. I looked at my riding boots and decided that they were toast. Even if I had wanted to ride out of Mongolia my boots would need to be replaced. But I was going nowhere. So I went over to the Blue Wolf to see if I could hire a guide who spoke English to help me get the bike out of Mongolia. This is where the story gets crazy. 

I had imported the bike as a temporary import. So that means I need to take it out with me. The Mongolians do not want old vehicles dumped in their country. So there is a hefty import tax for older vehicles. Mine would be about $2000. I thought that cannot be so. I showed up at the customs house with my translator and was called by Mairash, who had just been there. The guys who ran it were gone for a national holiday, which started the next day. They had just taken off early and would not be back until Wednesday the 17th. There was no way I wanted to sit in a hotel room in pain for 6 days. 

So Mairash and I went to a Notary and I gave her power to sell or give away the motorcycle so I could leave country. As it turned out I did not have to pay $2000. I also looked at transporting the bike to Ulan Bator (UB), and then to the USA. I got a best guess of $4000. 

By now MedJet had put together an evacuation plan that called for me to fly to UB on Saturday and on to the USA on Sunday.  So on Friday I hauled all my stuff to Mairash’s house. The bike was there. It kept blowing fuses, but I got that sorted out. Mairash was going to sell the bike, pay any duty, and send me the difference less some commission.

I later said I would pay the duty in UB at customs because they had to be open. When I got there they said customs was not open because of the national holiday, but it was OK to leave the country because I had the POA. They just assumed it would all be taken care of. So when I left on Sunday there were no customs officers. There was not request for my customs declaration. I had been led to believe that I needed to present my arrival customs declaration upon departure. Not so.  

But the way it all settled out is this. I left all my stuff in Mongolia. I gave it all to Mairash and her husband Tolepbergen. I reckon they will sell it or keep and sort out all the import mess. And if they don’t, so what. Will I be banned from Mongolia? I’ll take my chances.  

When I got back to Omaha it all started to fall in on me. I had lost over 20 lbs. I was down to 155 lbs with a 31 inch waist. But I was suffering from exhaustion, jet lag, and shock. I am good for about 3 hours in the morning. After that I sleep. 

I am with the family in Colorado now resting up. 

I met some great people on this ride. Tom Bosman and I were thrown together in Baku. We survived some really bad experiences and some really great experiences together. I met Helge and Werner on the Pamir; and Thomas, Chris, and Uwe in Russia. I am not happy I crashed. But I am happy I took the trip. I will just take the recovery as it comes.

I ENTER MONGOLIA – YIPPEE! OR MAYBE NOT.

Sorry - but the internet here is too poor to load photos

 

On July 7 at about 4 PM I entered Mongolia. It took seven hours at the Russian border to exit. A new world’s record, not even matched by Kazakhstan. I have no idea what the problem was. It just took forever. 

We had spent the last couple days in the Russian Altai region. It is a very beautiful place and would be worth a return trip. We stayed at a camp where many families spend some summer vacation. The Russians are very outdoor oriented. But it was rainy and cold in my opinion. That did not seem to hinder the Russian children. 

I met up with another group of bikers while waiting at the border and we have decided to travel together. So Tom Bosman and I are now with Uwe (German working in Sweden), Chris (Brit living in Austalia), and Thomas (German). We are all headed in the same direction, Ulaan Baator. 

When we left Russia the weather changed instantly to an ice storm that left the dirt road on the Mongolian side covered in about an inch of slush. I do not want the trip to sound harder than it is; but no matter what, driving in ice is lousy. It is not adventure. It is just difficult. We made it to the Mongolian immigration/customs border from the No Man’s Land between the two countries of about 17 Km, and it just poured cold rain. My supposedly water proof First Gear Jacket became decidedly not water proof. And I froze. 

So I was in no hurry to clear Mongolian customs and immigration and go back in the weather. Then we got a break. As we finished up buying insurance (in the rain), it started to clear. We took off for Oglii, the next town of any size. The weather got better. The road got better. But there were still long stretches of dirt and gravel. 

We made it to Oglii and got settled. By now it was apparent my bike had problems, again. I had broken a weld –not a big deal. But I also was showing signs of an oil leak. And my tires had some slits in them. 

We checked into the Blue Wolf Gert Camp, and we got some Gerts (Yurts). And that is where I am now.  

I spent the morning sorting out the weld and mechanical issues. They are somewhat solved. This means I filled the tire cracks with super glue and intend to carry on to Ulaan Baator. I am prepared mentally to break down and hire a truck. But I really want to avoid that – Duh! The oil leak seems to be solved; and I bought more oil just in case. 

So far the roads are OK. That means I have had normal scary moments on gravel. But after Tajikistan my self-confidence is much higher. 

Oh, by the way, Mongolia is not warm. It was pretty cold here. Tom says it was about 36 degrees Fahrenheit when we came into Mongolia. Last night was chilly in the Yurt. But the sun is shining and life is good right now. 

My blog depends on the availability of internet. So just hang in there. It will probably be 3 or 4 days until I get a connection again.

SIBERIA – BEAUTIFUL SIBERIA

Siberia is wonderful. I never thought I would utter those words. But I was so happy to enter Russia. The food is great. The roads are superb. The people are hospitable, and some downright friendly. 

Let me bring you up to date. Tom and I had one last bout of food poisoning on the way out of Kazakhstan. Tom is the best barfer. But I am a better bowel voider. Both of us are thin and stringy after a month of riding in Central Asia. We were basically starving to death because we would have repeated episodes of food poisoning or some other intestinal ailment. So we spent last weekend in Almaty, Kazakhstan, a truly great city looking for real food. 

Almaty has everything and is very European with an Asian flare. We found good food and the hostel was nice too. We thought we were cured.  

We left on Monday, and the road was not too bad for Kazakhstan. But after about 200 km it was apparent that I had blown out my right front fork seal. Not good. I carry the parts, but a shop is needed to complete repairs. So I watched fork oil seep out for the next 4 days.

Then we ate a bad pizza at a hotel on Tuesday night. By Wednesday afternoon we knew we were in trouble. Tom had been laid low in Osh, Kyrgyzstan for 3 days the week before, and I had troubles in Bishkek before my infamous border incident. (Remember they would not let me in Kazakhstan).



Victor - Savior of Motos

The shop - with hangers on

Fellow Bikers heading to a rally

On Thursday the 3^rd of July we crossed into Russia. I am in now in Barnaul. Barnaul is three time zones East of Moscow and four West of Vladivostok. So it is like Omaha - only further from a Starbucks.

 

Tom got new tires today, the 4th. I had my forks rebuilt by Victor, the famous Russian bike mechanic known worldwide to over landers for his ability to repair most any bike. I also got a new chain. That may not sound like a big deal to most of you. But it made me a very happy guy. I can now rest without worrying that my chain will snap in Mongolia.

Asian Russia does not feel like Asia. It is more like Minnesota speaking Russian. And that means the gnats and mosquitos are also here. The farms are huge and I now understand the wealth of Russian agriculture. The roads are so perfect that I suspect they use Gomaco pavers to put down asphalt. 

I do not have many pictures because there is not much to photograph. Kazakhstan was much like the Nebraska Sandhills for the last 2 days. Except that the potholes in the roads are a constant menace. And Siberia looks like Northern Iowa and southern Minnesota from the seat of a motorcycle. So just get out your family albums with the pictures of Esterville, Iowa and you will see the same thing.

That all ends in the next 2 days. We leave tomorrow for the Altai region, and then enter Western Mongolia. The roads end. Mongolia is not paved for the first thousand plus kilometers on this side. As we approach Ulaan Baator there is asphalt – or so we are informed.

Thus, I will be off the radar for about ten days.  I do not expect much WiFi or internet until I reach Ulaan Baator. So do not worry because I do not post. It is just the world as it was before Al Gore invented the internet.