Western Mongolia - The Northern Route

After stocking up on money and other items we left on the camp and started to head north. While not too bad the roads started to degenerate and after 50km unfortunately Fritz came through a small dip and on the uphill rise the track was heavily cambered and his front wheel slid away from him. He face planted quite heavily and although not knocked out he was pined under the bike. We got that off him and he got up thinking he was OK but after he got his jacket of it was obvious he wasn’t. His collar bone was sticking up at a weird angle and although not sure I had seen the same thing on my mate Errol. We persuaded him to settle down for a but and two of the lads road over to a camp in the distance. They returned after half an hour with a Landcriuser from what was a mining camp. They had a Doctor with them and he took one look and said that was it for Fritz, he wasn’t going to be riding anywhere. They arranged for him to be taken back to town and his bike stored safely at the camp. The last we heard was that it was a complete separation of the shoulder blade and collar bone and that he flew out of Ulan Bator to the United States Just before we arrived. A speedy recovery mate.

Just after this Fritz came off

The mining camp in the distance

The Doctor arrives and transport back to town

We made it to Ullangom, and after a night in a nice hotel with a late meal as we had lost another hour in the time zone change we set off the next morning across the northern route of Mongolia. The first couple of hours were wasted as we got lost and ended up on some goat track that some of the others were enjoying but were just annoying me. The beef and egg that Thomas and I had had the night before started to take its effect on him and by lunch time we were waiting in a small village in the middle of the mountains to see if he would get any better. At 14.00 we decided that we would stay and we were offered some beds in what I think was a school. The up side was that they were holding there Nadam festivities that day so we unloaded the bikes and rode back over the hill to see the horse racing. The stocky little horses they have are ridden bareback by what look like kids of about 10 years old for about 12km from what I could understand and they look ready to drop when they finish. Later on that evening we went up to the arena to see the prizes being given out.

The main road!

The school house accomodation

The winner is brought home

The next day was Friday and although we got away early the tracks started to get worse and progress was slow. After riding for twelve hours we got some supplies in a town and headed just far enough outside and up onto the hillside where we might no be disturbed for our first “wild camp” As we parked up and got off the bikes it was my turn. I was sick and then later that night running out of the tent to try to find somewhere to use as a toilet by the moonlight!! Some again in the morning before anyone else was awake, but the scenery across the valley with the wild horses kind of made up for it.

The road continues

Camp for the night

The horses paid us a visit

Time for bed

The Saturday wasn’t much better, and I can’t remember the name of the place we stayed, but it was a typical Mongolian country hotel, two sort of clean beds in a room with no wash facilities and a squat outhouse round the back. Not great when you still aren’t feeling well.

We were on the final leg now and on the Sunday we decided to try to make it to the white lake where there were supposed to be some fairly up spec Gher Camps. We would have made it too, but as we went through the last water crossing which was pretty shallow, Tom hit a large rock in the middle with his front wheel and then came down on it hard on the sump. The result was oil leaking quite badly. So we laid the bike on it’s side and then spent the next three hours repairing the cracked sump with some metal putty. When we got going at 19.00 we still had another 150km to go, and as the sun was already setting we were soon in the dark with hundreds of cars coming towards us on the return journey from the Nadam festival in Ullaan Bator. With the dust, lights and what can only be described as a track that has then been carpet bombed! We had to call it a day and once again try to get off the road as far as possible to prevent getting run over and set up the tents.

Take your pick of road. None are better than the rest

A herd of Yaks

An easy water crossing

Turns into a big problem

We made it to the white lake the next morning by morning break and Thomas decided he wanted to stay for the night there. Three of us pressed on to Tsetserleg that night, the end of the dirt tracks and back onto tarmac. I was soooo glad to see that. Back into civilization with a hotel, a shower, proper toilets and at the Fairfield café (run by an expat aussie) some very good food.

Mongolia's Grand Canyon

I was very happy to see tarmac again

So back to just Uwe and I on the Tuesday, to cover the last few hundred KM into Ullaan Bator. Uwe had said that the traffic there was a nightmare as had some other reports that I had read. We sailed through the city!! Apparently in the last two years they have not only repaved the main road through they had introduced traffic management systems that now keep it all pretty much under control.