Stefan rettet den Kapitaen mit seinen Traktor

Russia III
Distance from Vladivostok: 14,691.5km
Russia Distance: 1,657.9km
Moving Average: 65kph
Moving Time: 23 hrs 30'
Max Speed: 131kph

Our first day back in Russia was crap. It was around 45 degrees and the roads were flat, straight and boring. The wind was hot and at least 30 knots. Most of the day we rode across seemingly endless flat plains. Fortunately we could buy cold water.

Late in the day the Traffic Police pulled us over. Wanted Adam's license and put him in the Police car. Eventually, Adam came over to get his rego papers and said the Cops would not give his passport back. A while later he came back and said they had caught us both speeding on radar, and we would have to pay $US100, cash. Each! Adam said the goon had a pile of $US and Rouble notes big enough to choke a camel. He still had Adam's license in his pocket. Fcuk that for a joke!! I stormed over and read him the riot act, told him the facts of life. Told him we wouldn't pay anything. Pointed out he didn't even have a radar. Told him he was corrupt and acting illegally and was a disgrace to his country and said I wanted to see his Captain. For good measure I said I would ring our Embassy. (I think we have one here) He asked me to “not speak loudly” and said he “just wanted to be friends”. Adam got his papers back and we left. In his panic the silly bastard nearly gave Adam his Police ID instead of Adam's license! Fcuk him. His side kick flashed around a Machine gun? This bloke and his mate are dead set pricks. These bastards are nothing but thieving criminals and fcuking bandits!. They should have known they couldn't stuff with a couple of Aussies! It is a pity, as every other Russian, including all the Police, have been absolutely lovely, fantastic and beautiful people. Fortunately, no Australian Police behave this way.


Next morning, as happens a lot over here, a Policeman waved his baton for me to stop. After a rush of blood to the brain I just waved back and kept going. In my one wreck of a KTM mirror I saw the Copper sprint to his car, and I new the shit was about to hit the fan. He had his little 1,250S, 4 speed Lada highway pursuit vehicle really flying. They had lights, sirens and the passenger was yelling into the loudest PA in the whole of Russia. I rode along at about 80kph, trying to pretend I wasn't even in Russia. Eventually, acting as surprised as I could, I pulled over. One bloke jumped out of his car and commenced to spit the dummy. The poor bastard had steam coming out of his ears! He freaked. His mate was in the drivers seat nursing their machine gun. Nothing I said could console him. He made me dig out all my documents, then all the bikes documents. He certainly was showing me who was the boss. He read all my details to someone on the phone, I don't think Russian drivers are in the habit of trying to do a runner. But, I think this bloke was a good honest Cop, just trying to do his job. Now I stop whenever they even look sideways at me.

We rode west, camped in a row of trees, between two of the biggest paddocks we have seen so far. Time to change our lube oils again, dropped the oil in the dirt, forgot the bloody wind was blowing over 30 knots and the stuff blew all over me. Fcuk me, can't take a trick. We were heading for Tuapse, a small shipping port and tourist joint on the Black Sea. As time went on the country got more interesting, lovely rolling hills and then a small mountain range. We had a fantastic days ride,tight corners,sweepers and even some gravel. The “”Rooney” and I loved it. Even Adam's shitty old V Strom excelled. The police pulled us over a couple of times, as is with most Russians, they were gentlemen.


The country had gotten more and more European the further we headed west. Tuapse. Fcuk me. What a joint. Definitely a European city. Whilst looking for a hotel I found the Seamans Club. My newest best friend, Marina,(a lovely 47 year old Hooker), sent me in the direction of a cheap, but good hotel. We booked in for 2 nights, ended up staying 3. The Seamans Club is run by the ITF, the umbrella Union for all Seafarers. Most large ports have one and they provide an excellent service. As a member of the AMOU, it was open door. Cheap WiFi, cheap beer and cheap women. We made friends with several of the local Hookers, although not on a professional basis. Lucy, Marina and Olga our favourites. For all these girls, their twenties is only a distant memory. The place is a bit weird, we went in to use the WiFi, the bar was not open yet, so one of the Hookers served us a beer, sold us a WiFi card and put it on our tab. All on trust. We came back later in the day and paid up. Only in Russia. As in most Russian cities, particularly holiday resorts, the women are spectacular.

Went for a beer in the evening with a couple of the local Bikers. As usual, bloody good people. A great open air bar near the harbour. Now, Thursday night at the Mona Vale Hotel is THE place to see good looking women. Second to none. The little open air bar in Tuapse came a very, very close second. And when those girls dance, they don't hold back! Next day we went to the beach.

The Black Sea coast is one of the prettiest areas of Russia. Apart from being 47degrees and the manic traffic, the ride from Taupse to the Ukrainian border was brilliant for our last days ride in Russia. I am really sad to be leaving Russia and my Russian friends.

We think registering is overrated, so didn't bother.

Ukraine
Distance from Vladivostok: 16,350.4km
Ukrainian Distance: 1,658.9km
Moving Average: 67.1kph
Moving Time: 24hrs 42'
Max speed: 123kph


We had heard and read a lot of bad things about the Police in the Ukraine, so planned the shortest possible route through the joint, which turned out to be a mistake. The Police were supposed to constantly harass drivers and riders, asking for bribes and handing out phoney fines. Even Lonely Planet bagged the country. What bullshit. Every person we met was fantastic. The Police were fantastic. Adam was pulled up once, but then he had done 2 “U” turns over double lines, in front of the Copper! Was he booked! No. Did the bloke ask for a bribe! No. He gave Adam a serve, checked his papers and sent him on his way. Every Ukrainian we met was great.

Adam has a theory that the girls look so good in these countries as there is a complete absence of fast food. No Maccas, KFC or Hungary Jacks. Almost no processed foods at all. Definitely something we can learn from.





We put in three big days. The bloody temperature was over 40 degrees every day. The drivers are lunies. They think it is their god given right to overtake when and where they want. We would cruise at around 100kph and a car would overtake us, squeezing between us and the Armco railing at about 130kph. Bloody terrifying!! We would be hurtling along the highway, only to come up behind a farmer in a horse drawn cart with a massive load of hay, going flat out at about 5kph. Jesus! The speed difference between us and the trucks was crazy. The roads were not so bad, and the scenery nice, although definitely unspectacular. We had a couple of mediocre camp sites and swam in a big grubby river. Saw a few big Jap bikes and plenty of Urals and HHH 2 strokes. It rained for the last couple of hours, the roads were slippery and my front tire didn't have much meat left.


Poland and Slovakia.
Distance from Vladivostok: 17,065.9kms
Poland & Slovakian Distance: 715km
Moving Average: 54.4km
Max speed: 133kph
Moving Average: 13hrs 07'


The border crossing into Poland was our quickest yet, 1hr 15'! The line of cars was about 200 long, we managed to jump most and blasted into Poland. Fcuk me!! We could not believe what we had ridden in to. Talk about the first world. The roads are great. They have signs and you will not die if you ride off onto the shoulder. The houses are neat and painted. The gardens maintained. The Ukrainians wonder why they cannot join the European Union. Just tell them to take a day trip to Poland and they will see why. We rode down a few gravel tracks and they seemed manicured. A shame to spin it up on them.

This was Europe. Poland is a complete, but pleasant surprise. Nothing like we expected. We ended up in Przeworsk, rented a cabin, ate in their fantastic restaurant and drank some magnificent Polish beer.


By now my rear Mitas E07 had 16,500kms on it, although still with plenty of meat. My front Continental TKC80 has been incredible! I cannot believe it. I had hoped it would give me 10,000kms. It has been fantastic to ride on and to get 16,500kms was stunning. Adam's Mitas E09 rear gave him 12,000kms and his front E09 8,000kms. Amazing as well. We tracked down the local Mitas importer, Handoplex, fronted up to their warehouse. Two of their guys, Pawel and Olgierd, who both spoke excellent English, went out of their way to help us. I bought a pair of Mitas E08's for $A109.00 How good is that. And a bloody good tire to ride on. The boys arranged for a local tire service to fit them, bloody good people as well. Almost right away we hit some mountain roads, the bike felt like a sports bike to ride. I think the E08's will be good.

Pawel and Olgierd mapped a scenic route across Poland via Zakopane, Bootlace had also told us to visit this area. We stopped on the side of a road to take a photo. There were a lot of signs. Being a bit thick, it took us a while to understand we were on the Polish/Slovakian border. Slovakia hadn't been on our itinerary. Who cares, lets go and see the joint. Slovakia looks like it is emerging from the forced Soviet era slumber, another 5 years or so and it will be up there with Poland. The day turned out to be our best asphalt riding day of the trip. Mountain passes, deep valleys beside rivers, good surfaces and plenty of corners. With new tires it was a pleasure. Later in the day we crossed into Austria and found a camp site down a little farm lane. Had a feed and climbed into the tent. It pissed down pick handles all night. In the morning we packed the tents in the rain and hit the highway.

No bloody fun at all. Heavy rain and strong gusts of wind. Almost no visibility. A real bastard to ride in. We rode at about 110kph and did about 600kms in the rain. Germany, and it still rained. Later in the day it stopped raining and the sun came out. What a difference. Beautiful scenery and great Autobahns. To good to last! The “Rooney's” gearbox decided to make an arse of itself. Checked into a Hotel at Hoechstadt, had a hot shower and a couple of magnificent local beers. I Skyped all my German mates, as well as Stockers, got them onto the case. Should I take the bike to the UK? To expensive. Get it fixed here? Don't speak the language, don't have any contacts.
Stockers and my Kraute mates were all working to find a solution. I e-mailed the local Horizons community. Stefan, one of the Intrepids, drove 450kms to pick up the bike and I. How good is that!!


We walked around the town. Bloody lovely. Met a bloke on a BMW R80, Martin, a top guy. His girl, Shanti came and we visited the local museum,and had a couple of beers at an incredible old bar. Martin is the local Carp expert. A scientist who is the worlds leading expert on Carp. This area is the Carp breeding Capital of the world. In Bavaria there are 6,000 farms covering 20,000 hectares. The average age of a Carp pond is 600 years. Martins family have farmed the one set of Carp ponds since 8th December 1650. The season lasts 8 months and in this area they harvest 750 tonnes per year. It all keeps 1,200 people employed. Our little hotel cooked and sold 5 tonnes in their restaurant. They have a competition to see who eats the most Carp meals in the season. The winner this year ate 210 Carp meals in the 240 day season. What a man! Martin and Shanti have a magnificent house on the edge of a 600 year old Carp pond. We had a grouse night with them and their kids and drank many beautiful local white beers. Their kids even cooked us a splendid meal!





Stefan turned up in his BMW, with trailer. In a few hours we were in Lohrne. What a great place. We went to the local BMW Air head expert, Rudolf Kallenbach, a bloody good bloke. His knowledge and love of Airheads is up there with Paul Rooney. It would be interesting to be there if they met. Rudy dropped everything and ripped my gearbox out. The problem was only a spring attached to the gear change lever. The fcuker had broken. While Rudy gave the “Rooney” a bit of TLC I ran around in Stefan's BMW and his best mate Olaf played tour guide. Stefan took me of a tour of the local area, including the canals on the river. From his area the canals lead to Amsterdam, Poland via Berlin, or the North Sea. Bloody amazing, as the boats are up to 85 metres long and can have a beam of up to 10 metres. They can carry up to 1,500 tonnes.


Olaf came around and we had a little “alcoholic party”. Fcuk me!! Stefan cooked Bratwurst and made many, many Caipirinha, a Brazilian drink of doubtful heritage, (if you don't know what this is, come visit me next summer), force fed us a few magnificent local beers and unfortunately topped it all off with a few shots of Jagermeister. I think, perhaps, the Jagermeister was a little off, as we all felt like shit in the morning. Olaf rode his pushie home, poor bastard had to work the next day.

So, I picked up the “Rooney” and powered towards Rotterdam to catch the ferry to Hull. Sat on 120 all the way, and she loved it. As I should of expected, Stockers has a mate, Craig, who got me a gigantic discount on the ticket, so after a beer or two, I slipped into my bed and updated this bloody blog as I drank a bottle of good old Aussie Rosemount Shiraz. Tomorrow, Donington to meet up with Stockers and Adam, and watch Dave race. Hopefully two of my favourite girls, Jacquie and Silvia will be there as well. I don't know if it gets any better than this!

Austria, Germany & Holland.
Distance from Vladivostok: 18,148.3km
Austria, Germany & Holland distance: 1082.1km
Moving average: 64.6kph
Max speed: 148kph
Moving time: 15hrs 02'




Welcome to the U.K. I disembarked at Hull in the brilliant sunshine. It lasted for about 10 minutes, then pissed down! I don't know why I love this place so much. A fantastic ride in the rain to Stockers and Jacquie's new place. Fcuk me! Talk about something out of Heartbeat. Amazing! As always happens when I turn up here, Jacquie does her best to kill me with kindness. I took the chicken shit way out and drove down to Donington in Stockers van with him and Jacquie. Dave and Sylvia were there, Adam turned up and Bootlace arrived on Saturday morning, about 3 hours after landing in the country for the first time. Magnificent racing, magnificent bikes, including a Honda CR250/6. Met Charlie's mates Glynn and Jo and caught up with heaps of people, including Roger Bennett. Roger told me the simple fix for my gearbox would have been to find a really steep bank, park the bike front facing down the hill, and turn it upside down. Then select 3rd gear and I could have ridden as far as I needed. Simple.






We spent a few days touring the Yorkshire area. It has to be the prettiest part of the UK. Took Adam to Captains Cooks house, had a magnificent steak and told a lot of lies. Adam prepared his bike for shipping back home. Jacquie, Sue and I dropped him at the railway station. I was sorry to see Adam go, he has been absolutely fantastic to travel with and an incredible navigator. Probably the best navigator I have ever ridden with. We rode at about the same pace, always a bonus. Adam has lost 14 kilos on this trip and I have lost 5. Lets see how long we can keep it off.Stockers and I rode to “The Flag”, a cafe in the middle of nowhere, (near Seamer, Stokesley) The Teesside Bikers somehow find their way down a few kilometres of tiny unmarked concrete roads to talk bikes and tell lies several times a week. Very different, bloody great. Whitby on a Thursday evening, many bikes, fish and chips and a lot of bullshitting.

Today more rain. I rode to Liverpool to catch the Isle of Man ferry. First, heavy fog, then heavy rain, then heavy rain and wind together. A couple of ciders on the ferry with Stockers made me forget all about it. I checked into a lovely “Home Stay” at Onchan and went for a beer with Stockers, Jacquie and their family. Mike and Val at the Home Stay treated me like I was a king. Fantastic. A warm evening, dry roads and little traffic. Just had to do a lap of the TT Course before I updated this thing. All 73kms of it. Am I feeling good? Bloody oath!!!



Ashley and Simon's wedding, sensational! Ashley looked stunning, Simon looked like he was “The Man”and Jake was “as flash as a rat with a gold tooth”, Jacquie, just beautiful and Stockers was the proudest guy on earth. He had a grin from ear to ear, I thought his face might split in two! He scrubbed up all right. What about Jasmin, bloody lovely. After spending time with Stocker's Mum and Sister, I can understand where he gets it all from. A few more laps of the TT course, a trip on the train and many kilometres of walking. All in the brilliant sun. Even visited the Manx Museum. Watched practice for the Manx GP at Signpost. Something very weird about sitting on a chair on the edge of a public road/race track, watching race bikes fly past only a few feet away, all while it is so dark the street lights have come on. Only at the IOM!! Had a few St Helliers Ciders with Graham and Andy at Queens and headed back to Stockers farm, or “East Barnby Backpackers” as I have christened it. Once again The Isle of Man has been great.

What's next. An overnight ferry to Holland, ride to Stefans and on to Berlin to catch Matty. Ride with the boys for a week or so, catch up with the Intrepids, a bike rally and back to the UK for some motorcycle racing with Stockers and his mates. Yes, all good fun but the really exciting part of my trip is long over. I would love to be back in the Gobi with Adam. Wish we could have done the fcuking “Stans”

Kazakhstan. Loved it.

Kazakhstan.
Distance: 4,443.3km
Distance from Vladivostok: 13,033.6km
Average speed: 55.7kph
Riding time: 79hrs 11'
Max speed: 116kph

We are putting in some big days, almost riding at “Campey Speed”, heading south west to the Aral Sea. Adams transit visa for The Ukraine has given us a deadline. Some lousy roads, some shitty roads, some fantastic roads and tracks. Top camp sites, without mossies. We have tried to stay away from the main roads, Not to many tourists ride this way. Actually not to many Kazaks travel this way, not to many Kazaks ride motorcycles either. There is an almost complete absence of bikes on the roads. The few we see are Russian built Urals or HHH 2 strokes. No Japanese or Chinese bikes at all.




We stopped to fill our bottles at a water pump in a smallish town in the back blocks, a group of locals come out to talk, look and take photos. A teenage kids appears with a plate full of pastries from his mothers kitchen, still warm and just like my Mum used to bake. We scoffed a few and rode away. Bloody Kazaks, bloody brilliant!

Kuba rode towards us. Nothing special about that? Well, yes. Kuba has taken 4 months off from University and is riding from Poland to India, on a pushy! What a man. We met him near the Baykonur Cosmodrome.

This is the joint from which the USSR, and now Russia send all their space flights. Including Yuri Gagarin, who in 1961 was the first man in space. Never was in Russia, has always been in Kazakhstan. They have a monument or something on the side of the road near the Cosmodrome. Someone has painted “Free Tibet” on it. I like their style.

I wanted to visit Aral, a town formally on the shores of the worlds 4th biggest lake, the Aral Sea. Only problem is, the fcuking Soviets decided to divert the river and drain the water, sending it hundreds of kilometres away to grow cotton. Aral is now 80 kms from the water. There are 20 metre fishing trawlers, high and dry, 80kms from the sea. Never mind the 60,000 people employed in the fishing industry, which caught and processed 20,000 tons of fish a year. Never mind the 20 species of fish that disappeared. Never mind the 135 species of animals that disappeared from the shores around the Sea. Never mind that there used only be 30-35 rain free days a year, now there are 135. Water usage increased over 50% and they only grew 20% more cotton. Pretty stupid, eh! Supposedly the worlds worst environmental catastrophe. This is what happens when any political system doesn't have checks and balances. What a fcuk up.

Zhassulan walks up to talk and asks if we need any assistance. He lives and works in Almaty and is in Shalqar, with his wife of 2 weeks, to visit his parents. I said we needed a shop and WiFi, if there was any. No problems, Zhassulan took us to his home, introduced us to his family and we used his WiFi to check our mail and to Skype. We left with a bag of home cooked pastries and a 1.5 litre bottle of locally produced soda water tucked into my tank bag.

We stopped to talk to Oliver and Marina, a young French couple on a 3 year RWT. On bicycles! Another couple, Artur and Ania, from Poland, riding a Honda Transalp had chucked their jobs and are riding indefinitely. Am I jealous or what!

Unlike eastern Kazakhstan where we could find lovely clean rivers to swim in almost every day, in the west of the country we have had to go many days without a tub. We must look and smell like crap. In one joint we bathed in the middle of town under the communal water pump. Probably not the correct etiquette, but we felt better after it. Another town we stopped to swim in a half clean river, I had almost finished bathing when Adam yelled for me to get out of the river. Quickly! A bloody snake was swimming towards me! Most days the temperature has been over 35 degrees. We are back to drinking gallons of water a day.



The Kazaks saved their most shitty tracks for last. Adam dumped it in the bull dust, our first proper “off”' for the trip. With my track record that is pretty good. We were taking a short cut around a town and had to ride up a 5 metre, near vertical bank. Not a problem, only I never know how much gas to give the Rooney in these situations, try to quickly calculate traction, height and angle. If I get it wrong it could hurt. Fortunately, this time I had it right, as I crested, the bloody road disappeared into a gulley. I managed to stop just before my front wheel went in to it. The front was on the edge of a gully and the back wheel was still down the steepest bank we had ridden up. And I stalled it. What a bastard!

So, I think the dirt roads have finished for the trip. We were glad to see asphalt and enjoyed being able to relax a little as we rode. For about 3 hours that is. Then we would have killed for some more shitty, challenging tracks. Most of the roads we rode in Kazakhstan were fcuked!

At home, I lashed out and bought 2 new, expensive KTM mirrors. About $70 each, but beautiful. The left one was a victim of the Mongolian corrugations and just fell apart. The right hand one did the same thing with the Kazakhstan washboards. Interesting riding for a few days without mirrors. Adam jury rigged a left hand one, so I am happy again. Thought KTM's were supposed to be “adventure tourers”. Paul fitted a new YSS rear shock for this trip. After 110,000kms my old White Power was stuffed. The YSS cost over $1,000 and is stuffed after about 11,000kms. The spring has sagged and it leaks oil. I think they might get a phone call when I get home.

People had warned us about the Kazakhstan Police, we were told they were corrupt and we would be stopped repeatedly and asked for bribes. It didn't happen last time and hasn't happened this time. In fact we did not get stopped by the Police at all. Everyone we have met in this country, including the Police, have been fantastic.

We had hoped to camp on the shores of the Caspian Sea. Unfortunately it is now peak holiday season for the Kazaks and Russian, so we checked it out, had our photos taken about a million times and shot through, forgetting to even take a photo. Had we camped there, they would have tried to kill us with kindness. We are camped in a great spot, beside a little lake and only 35 or so kms from the Russian border. We both woke up this morning as crook as Rookwood. To sick to ride. God only knows what we had eaten or drunk. We lay down all day in the 35-40 degree heat, sweating like pigs as we tried to drink water and keep it down. By tonight I could eat an orange, so I think I will live. We have called a rest and recovery day for tomorrow.

By 10am we were bored with our R&R day and it was bloody hot. We packed up and hit the border. What a shitfight! In some of these countries they have a silly system whereby, after clearing Customs and Immigration you still have to find the Immigration Police and register with them within a few days, in this case 5 days, or pay someone to do it for you I usually don't bother, just lay on a little bullshit at the border and get away with it. Not this time. They threatened to have us arrested and jailed, even locked us up for a little while, not to bad as it was air conditioned, interrogated us and asked us stupid questions. Like, where are you going. I think if you are at the Russian border you probably intend to go to Russia. Where did you come from? Read my passport for the 400th time. It says in letters 1” high, Russia. The Immigration guy said he could fix it all up if we paid $$US200 each. No fcuking way. Eventually it came down to $US100 each. No one even looked at the bikes, all they wanted was money. We told them they were corrupt and said we wanted to ring the Australian Embassy. Dumb bastards didn't even know we don't have an Embassy in Kazakhstan. Eventually they realised we weren't going to pay any money and we were all tired of this silly game, we rode back 40kms to the Immigration Police, they stamped our card, it took all of 5 minutes, rode 40kms back to the border and left for Russia. All took over 7 hours and it was bloody hot, over 40 degrees.

We rode for less than 100 metres and Police wanted to see our passports, good blokes though, I think they only wanted to talk and look at the “Rooney” and the V Strom. Tomorrow, before we head for the Black Sea, I think we might go and register in Russia.

"We're on the highway to hell"

Russia II
Distance: 1102.7kms
Distance from Vladivostok: 8,590.3kms
Max speeed: 119kph
Average speed: 63.4kph
Riding time: 17hrs 56'

Crossing into Kazakhstan from Russia was a breeze, our quickest border crossing yet, all done in under 1 ½ hours. The Kazaks are warm, friendly people. Just beautiful. Unlike the Mongolians, they understand what personal space means. They don't want to sit on the bikes and play with the controls.

Most of the Kazakhstan roads are shit! They are potholes joined together by strips of asphalt.Some are big enough to park the bike in. Very hard to ride, I can't get into a rhythm. It is just a pain in the arse, and it makes my back hurt like hell. There are dips in the road every 10 metres or so, Adam reckons they are like speed humps in reverse. The “Rooney” does not like them either. Frequently we leave the “asphalt” and ride the tracks beside the road. I now remember why I was not keen to ride here again. I hope the guy that builds the roads here is not the same guy who builds the railway tracks and airport runways. Kazaks drive their cars like they have stolen them. They all seem to be second hand Audis from Germany, so maybe they have stolen them

In Russia they have many, many road signs. Unfortunately most are in the Cyrillic alphabet, only one or two in English. This makes navigation interesting. In Mongolia they don't have road signs at all. This makes navigation damned near impossible. In Kazakhstan they have many road signs, on the main roads they are in English as well as Cyrillic. Navigation is a breeze and we didn't get lost today. This is not something we are used to.

The rivers here are very clean, we don't have trouble finding somewhere to swim and wash our socks & jocks most days. The camp-sites have all been exceptional. Last night probably our best of the trip. Our first without mossies. Adam and I are concerned we might be both turning into poofs, as nights we don't have a cold beer, we have a cup of green tea after we strike camp. We are both normally non tea drinkers

I really did not enjoy the last 2 days ride. Last night, after 1.5 litres of cold Kazak beer and sharing half a bottle of magnificent vodka, I slept like a log. In the morning my back didn't hurt any more. Most of today’s ride was dirt, about 250km, the “Rooney” and I loved it. We find we can ride much faster on the dirt than the tar. Even the asphalt was bearable today.

One of the main reasons to do this trip was to ride the Pamir Highway through “The Stans”. We have talked it to death, and decided, due to a bloody revolution taking place there, we will give it a miss. I am more than a little disappointed. Our Finnish mates, Sakke and Esa have bigger kahuna's than us and are going to try it. We are riding across southern Kazakhstan towards Aral Lake. The country is quite scenic. Not as flat and boring like it is further north.


Hopefully we will catch up with Val and Jason in Astana, although they are now separated as one of them fell in love with a Russian goddess in Banaul. Mark is in Europe with his family, his bike made the ship to America with 4 minutes to spare. Yes, 4 bloody minutes! Ron, Dave and Whitey are at Sakke's home in Finland. Ron has had to rip his engine out and perform some open heart surgery on it. The DR will live to fight another day. Adam's V Strom is an incredible bike, almost bog standard, it takes anything he throws at it. Very economical as well. Paul got it right with the “Rooney's” new frame. It is a dream, all I will change next time is to fit a much heavier spring in the shock. I can't seem to wear out the tires! My front TKC80 is a ripsnorter. The steering head bearings on Jason’s KLR are rooted, the engine appears to have a terminal illness and the radiator is cracked. Val’s KTM 990 is not healthy in the engine department, probably not long for this world, the rear subframe cracked through in 2 places, one front disc is about to part company.



We stopped at a lovely secluded lake for a swim and to do our laundry. In the middle of it all 2 carloads of Kazaks turned up to swim, BBQ shashlyks and drink beer. They stripped down to they jocks and joined us in the lake. The girls, of course, wanted photos with the bikes. We camped adjacent to some railway tracks, so went for a tour of inspection. Unfortunately, I think the bloke who built the roads also built the rail tracks!

STOP PRESS!!! MAGNIFICIENT ROADS IN KAZAKHSTAN!!! Things have changed, no the locals are still driving like lunatics, but the road is terrific. We are on the main Almati to Astana highway, probably the busiest in the country, but we can cruise at 110kph. To us it seems like 210kph.
Things have looked up, after 5 nights in a tent we have rented an apartment in Astana, on the 16th floor, 100 metres from the “Grand Centre” in town and 5 minutes walk to the Ukrainian Embassy. Cable TV, beer in the fridge, only 2 years old and we even bought some vegies. Our new best mate, whose name escapes me, found us us on the side of the road, adopted us, took us on a tour of his city, found wifi and our flat. A bloody good bloke. We even got to see Casey beat Valentino into 3rd place in the German Moto GP. Our Land Lady, Nina, is another lovely Russian Babushka. Astana is a little like Canberra, a scratch built capital, but still under construction. I liked it more than the last time I was here. I suppose not getting the runs this time helped. There is massive construction and most things are modern and clean. We even have a sit down toilet.

We pick up Adam's Ukrainian visa this afternoon and head west, should cross back into Russia in a 10 days or so. Today we do the internet and skype thing and play tourist. Bad luck with the Blog, it seems they are banned in Kazakhstan, so I could not post this one.

The best news is, Kelly, Doug & Christina have a new brother, Connor. That must mean Scottie & Lillian have had a baby. How good is that!!!!!!

Back to Banaul.

Mongolia.
Distance:2731km
Max speed: 82.5kph
Average speed: 35.1kph
Riding time: 77.42hrs.

Cow shit. I didn't think I would be deliberately standing in the smoke of a cow shit fire, trying to escape the mossies. Our new best mates were heating up stones in the cow shit fire, dropping the red hot rocks into a milk urn, with meat and veggies, to cook a traditional Mongolian meal. We declined a dinner invitation. To bad the fire burnt a hole in my best strides. As seems to be the case in most of Mongolia, the mossies were about half a kilo each. Your average Mongolian walks around, for two months of the year, carrying a piece of towelling or cloth with which they constantly whip themselves. It seems, to the uninitiated, like mass self flagellation. Nothing so sinister. It is the only way to keep the damned mossies away! The Gher camp we were staying in was on an island. In Australia islands have bridges. In Mongolia they have river crossings. This particular island had 2 river crossings. One was quite deep. After crossing three times, guess who dumped it in the middle of the deepest, fastest flowing patch of the river. Soaked my boots, and I hate wet boots. Fcuk that!


In Khovd, on our day off, we discovered if we parked our bikes out the front of the University we could get free wi-fi. Great to catch up on our e-mails and to Skype/phone family and friends. Also a good spot to meet and chew the fat with the locals. Our new best mates Tilek and Esengul dropped by and invited us the visit and stay at their home. Tilek drives a Volga 3110. A big solid, staid looking 2.0 litre 4 cylinder sedan. Plenty of room for a family and built like a brick shit house. They are both teachers, Tilek speaks excellent English, very handy for an English teacher.


Tilek and Esengul and their 3 sons live in Hovd, as opposed to Khovd or Hovd, this was a 28 km drive, took a little over an hour and we only got lost once. Tilek took us to the horse races. In Mongolia they don't stuff around when they race horses. As we all know, it helps if a jockey is very light. Young people are usually light. So the jockeys start racing at age 4 and are retired by age 10. The first race was for 1 year old horses, the jockeys were a little over one year old, and only ran for 5 kms. By the second race they had stopped stuffing around and raced for 20kms. How long is the Melbourne Cup? Bloody Aussie soft cocks!! Tilek is writing a dictionary. How smart is that. We had an exceptional day and evening.


Our second last day in Mongolia was an absolute stunner. Magnificent scenery and fantastic tracks with a humongous variety of surfaces. This was one of the best rides on our trip. By now my boots were nearly dry. We had at 20-25 river crossings, some easy, some deep and fast flowing. And I kept my boots dry. On one of the last, fastest flowing and deepest crossings I got bogged. Bastard!! It took us about 40 minutes to get the poor old Rooney out of the river and my boots were full to the top with water.

We camped between the town of Ogly and the Russian border, only a few kilometres from where I had camped last time with Ron, Neva, Kim and the other Pommie, whose name I have chosen to forget. We were sad to be leaving Mongolia. Loved the place and the people. A few nips of Chingis helped to dull the pain. Changed money at the border, refused to pay the 10,000tg road tax, and were through into Russia (after a health check by a Doctor). Gotta go in style.

We met 3 Pommie blokes in 4WD,s heading east, decided to have an early camp and socialise. What a camp sight! A big level paddock, a fast flowing river, snow capped mountains, forests and plenty of firewood. Colin, Allen and Asher are bloody good blokes. For Poms, that is.

Today we rode the Russian Alti, probably the prettiest region in Russia, a magnificent area for motorcyclists. Sensational views, little traffic and great corners. A pity about the rain in the afternoon. Our last camp in the Alti was a belter. Could have done with more mossies and rain!

Bronwyn texted me. The shit had hit the fan, again. The good people at Manly Warringah Credit Union had rung and told her I was the proud owner of an expensive Apple computer and some other electronic paraphernalia I wouldn't even know how to use. Only one problem, I had only paid for the gear, some anonymous person had possession of it. My Visa card had been skimmed while I was in Mongolia. Tanyia cancelled my card and the Credit Union sorted the mess out. Fortunately I have a back up Mastercard this trip.


Banaul. Renown for having some of the prettiest girls in Russia. And Russia has a lot of pretty girls. Our newest best mates Andrey and Natalia guided us to a hotel (with wifi), took us to Andrey's garage so we could change our oils and air filters, then took us to their home for a meal. More fantastic Russian hospitality from 2 fantastic Russian people. Last winter Andrey rode to a bike rally. Nothing special about that. Except, it was 1,500km away, he rode a 80cc 1983 Honda scooter, with side car, and the temperature was minus 47 degrees!! And he slept at the rally in a fcuking tent. Even the other Russian bikers were impressed. He showed us his heated visor, necessary when the temp is less than minus 25. Andrey's road bike is a Yamaha Dragstar. We met Costa and Alex, Russian bikers on R1200GS's., about to head off to Vladivostok via Mongolia. They were planning to ride the “Stans”, The politics got them and they had to abort.

Eventually Jason and Val turned up. Their bikes needed some TLC in Andrey's shed. The KTM and KLR both looked pretty fcuked after the Bam. Talk about walking wounded, bits hanging off everywhere. The KTM's rear subframe had broken and The KLR had a crack in the radiator. The boys told me how they had a traditional Mongolian meal, cooked in an urn with hot rocks inside. Apparently it tasted OK, but gave them the runs for 2 days. I told them how the rocks were heated!

In 2008 Kim and Scotty changed tires in Banaul. We stashed their half worn tires in a crate in a carpark. Two years later I wandered in, retrieved them and gave them to Andrey. Today we off to Kazakhstan. Funny thing that. Last time I said I probably would not go back there again.