On the southern route
20AugAnother freezing cold morning, but at least the gale force wind has dropped overnight, and the fly is still on my tent. The tent fly’s on our Eurohike tents are hopeless, having stretched really badly in the windy conditions, until it’s impossible to hold them away from the tent inner.
We’ve decided the only way the bodged rear spring will make the rally finish is if we reduce the load it has to carry. We’ve already placed everything heavy in the car on the right hand side. We jack the car up and replace the wooden block between the chassis and the left hand side of the diff. This means most of the weight of the car is being transferred to the diff through the wooden block, not through the spring. The spring won’t move much like this, so hopefully the angle of the shackle and the lack of travel in the tail shaft won’t be an issue. The spring will basically just keep the diff longitudinally in a constant position (constantly 50mm forward of where it should be). The only compliance in the suspension will be through the bump rubber, which rests on the wooden block.
This done we attempt to commence the journey, but this morning I just cannot get the car to start. It will not fire at all, and I’m at a complete loss. After around 30 minutes I’ve almost flattened the battery when we finally manage to get it to start using copious quantities of cold start spray. It starts on 3 cylinders, again it’s no.2 that is oiled up, and again it’s a replacement spark plug to get it firing. It’s the last straw, and we decide our only chance of finishing this rally is to abandon all plans for the north road and drive the souther route.
We set off on the Southern route:
To start off with the southern road is quite scenic. After 20 miles we stop where a bridge crosses a river to take a picture. Someone has done some great art on the surrounding hillside with rocks. There is only one house next to the bridge, and some kids quickly emerge from it and come and talk to us. We haven’t been moving long, and I’m keen to keep moving. However, a little girl has taken a shine to Stephen and now has him by the hand taking him to meet mama and papa. I follow Stephen inside, rather skeptically. I’m expecting a tourist trap, but once again I’ve underestimated Mongolian hospitality. Inside the house is quite basic. We are served a meal of boiled rice and lamb, which as always is very tasty. As with the people from Tsagannuur they are Kazakh Mongolians, and before we eat we are led through the same Muslim prayer. The family’s house is full of items donated by tourists, as well as colourful handmade cloths. This is one smart family. The father has picked up bits and pieces of English from passing tourists. He is responsible for the artwork on the hill, and is also very talented at painting and sketching. His children are also keen to impress us. The girl who led Stephen by the arm is proudly showing me her maths book. All of the kids seem a lot younger than they are, and I’m surprised to find out this girl is 10. She shows me pages of long division, ratios and fractions and then sets about doing some sums in front of me, just to prove it is her work. I was quite impressed. I’m not sure whether all of this was taught by her parents or whether she traveled the 25 or so miles back to Olgiy for school She makes me write down the numbers 1-30 in English on a page in her book, and then sets about trying to remember how to say them. We can’t hang around for too long though, and after giving them some gifts, we continue on our way. There is no question of money for the food, and the girl insists on giving Stephen a painting as a present. No matter how much he refuses she persistently puts it back in thi hand, and we leave with it.
Artwork on the hillside:
The kids and I pose for a picture on the bridge, which Stephen takes from below:
After the meal we grab a better picture:
Stephen’s painting:
We’ve crossed several creeks today, and just before another we see a massive eagle sitting on a rock. We stop to take a picture, and for once it doesn’t fly away. There is a reason for this however, it has been tamed, and we have fallen into a tourist trap. A man hands us a glove and the eagle stands on our arms. I feel sorry for it, but we have to pay the man a couple of dollars for the experience. It sure was heavy.
No matter how I tried to convince this eagle, it would not take me to Ulaanbaatar:
Yaks on the side of the creek not long after:
A few hours later we stop by a bubbling creek for bread and jam. It’s a bit stale but the surroundings more than make up for it.
We then attempt to eat the dried fish we were given in Kazakhstan. I have one nibble. It’s like licking the surface of a fish scaling bench, and not for me (or Stephen) at all:
On the way to the town of Hovd Stephen asks a man for directions. There are often strange forks in the dirt roads, with no signs. Sometimes the roads just go two ways around a hill and join on the other side. However we’ve learnt it’s best to ask before you’re completely lost, as it takes a long time to back track on these roads:
A bridge and a memorial on the way to Hovd:
Hovd is another typically unattractive town, and aside from getting some fuel, we don’t hang around.
Given a clean sheet of paper this is how I would build a fence as well. This was taken in Hovd:
There were some nice parts to this city though. Here Mongolians enjoy some R&R on the river.
According to the map, around 60 miles further the road passes very close to a massive lake, and we aim to camp on the side of it. For once our plans come to fruition. We even have time to drink a couple of semi cold beers beside the lake before we pitch the tents. There are some Gers around, and people come to check us out, but no one can summon either the courage or the will to speak to us directly. I’m happy to sleep in my tent tonight anyway. We’ve got eggplant and capsicum that we bought in Barnaul, and we have a feast of a meal that would rival sheep’s head in any case.
There was a strange metal observation tower built next to the lake. It was fairly decrepit, but we braved it for a better look at the lake, and the sunset
Stephen enjoys a beer next to the lake as the sun sets on another day:
