Although not a part of the original plan, I have enjoyed the experience that has come with the purchase of our Russian jeep as crazy as it sounds. It is definitely not the Subaru we wrecked, as many people have reminded us. Misha's father was one of the first to point out this fact. When we were searching for a car, when we were buying the car, when he was driving the car, and finally when we were all saying good bye at a gas station outside of Chita, he would always say in a thick Russian accent and sigh, "No Subaru." However, the Niva has succeeded at getting us to our destination and getting us back, which is all we ever asked for it to do.
It was going to be a two day trip to Ulan Ude to drop off our Russian friend Max. As our guide, he had informed us of an area between Chita and Ulan Ude where we must absolutely not camp because it was far to dangerous. The area was filled with gang activity and was unsafe for travelers, both Russian and foreign. We decided instead to stop outside this area next to a river in the late afternoon to set up camp and cook food. We then decided against this plan when two young men drove up in a motorcycle, circled us, and left without a word as we were unpacking. According to Max, we should leave quickly because they would come back later that night with some of their friends and beat us. With this new information we hastily packed up our gear and left the area. This change in plans caused us to drive through most of the night to cross through the danger zone. When we had made it through we finally stopped, exhausted, and fell asleep almost immediately along the side of the road in our tents. The next day we woke up early and drove the rest of the way to Ulan Ude to drop off Max. It was a quick good bye because we needed to get on the road however we hope to see him again when we go to Moscow. The trip would have been very different without him and the help he had given us.
The drive from Ulan Ude to the border of Mongolia and Russia was a short one relative to the longer drives we have done. When we reached the city where the crossing was located we had trouble finding it, which seems improbable because it is the border between two countries. We spent thirty minutes looking for a crossing which at times was close to only one hundred meters away from us. We were constantly asking for directions but it was difficult because all we could do to communicate was with hand gestures. When we finally reached the Russian border crossing we began our first of many mistakes. First problem was we tried to enter through the truck entrance rather than the car entrance. Then, we tried again, this time trying to enter through the bus entrance. Our third try brought success, and we were waved through to the next checkpoint. There, they checked our car, and our papers. When we gave the Russian exit visas that we purchased in Vladivostok with our Russian visas that we were told were invalid, the Russia Border Guards were very confused. Apparently, the original visas were still valid. They returned our Vladivostok exit visas unstamped and told us to continue on to the Mongolian side. Navigating the Mongolian customs was problematic as well because we skipped the customs building entirely. We only stopped before going clear to the actual border crossing when we asked a Mongolian customs official, who just happened to be walking outside, whether we were going the right way. She immediately turned us around and told us to park the car outside and enter a very large building to get our passports stamped. Ezra, because he was importing the car, spent a lot of time looking for stamps by different custom officials. These officials would often send him back the way he came for another stamp. In total, he walked back and forth between buildings eight times. Finally, when he claimed all of his stamps we went to the last checkpoint where the stamped paper was collected and the gate opened. We were finally, after so long and so much distance, in Mongolia.
The drive to Ulaanbaatar was long. The road is a single lane highway that runs through a number of small towns and communities. It was on this drive that we first experienced the domesticated animals that often cross the road, which perplexed me because I would often look around and there were so many other great locations for them to be in the great expanse that surrounded us. The animals seemed to know that they needed to get out of the way, but because we don't actually have a working car horn it is sometimes difficult to make them move with the urgency other drivers can. We finally entered the city and found the first decent looking hotel where we could rest and recuperate. It was called the Irish Pub Karaoke VIP Room Hotel which for a little less than $25 a night the three of us could stay in one room and have a hot shower, two queen sized beds, and cable TV.
The next day we left to meet our contact with the Tributary Fund and get the information necessary to meet with Chimga in the countryside. They gave us maps, phone contacts, and advice for traveling in the countryside. The man there, Baagi, was very amused it seemed that we would be trying to reach our destination with the Niva, but he didn't try to dissuade us so we took this as a good sign. The next morning we left to finally test the Niva on the dirt roads of Mongolia and, to be honest, I was slightly apprehensive.
We awoke at 6:30 AM packed up all of our stuff, loaded the Niva, and left Ulaanbaatar for the monastery. We followed the map very carefully and constantly asked questions at gas stations as to whether we were going in the right direction. During this drive, we found out a number of very interesting aspects about the Niva. For example, the Niva takes a break from driving from time to time. The first time this happened we had just left the pavement and in less than two miles of dirt roads the Niva's engine just died. We spent thirty outside the car, spit balling answers and tinkering with parts. We really didn't want to take anything apart because we no longer had the tools because of the accident, and we really didn't want to because the instructional manual we had was from British Niva enthusiasts. It was decided that one of us needed to go back to town to get, hopefully, a mechanic. I volunteered for the mission and waited for a car to pass by that could take me. The first car that came was to full because it had around eight people inside. The second car however only had seven so I hopped in and they dropped me off at the gas station of the town we just left. I got out, looked around, walked to where I saw a large group of Mongolian men relaxing outside. I didn't know what I was going to do to explain the predicament my friends and I were in. To my relief, there was someone there who could speak a little bit of English. When she explained what I needed, two Mongolian men pulled out a motorcycle, motioned for me to hop on the back, picked up a child of about five and put him on the handlebars and away we went. When we arrived back at the Niva, the two men hopped off, cleaned the spark plugs of dust, started the car and we were on our way. It was later, when the car broke down once again that we realized they hadn't actually done anything, they just came at the right time. The car overheats when it is in a low gear and a low speed for a long time. It happened again two hours later, and again another two hours later.
Now we have learned to wait for the car cool down. It gives us time to relax and take in the Mongolian countryside. We take pictures, stretch our legs, and walk around for a bit. It is just another little quirk we have learned about our new car.
We camped the night on the side of mountain, once again waking up early for the drive. Almost every ger we saw we stopped to make sure we were going the correct direction. There are many, many dirt roads that weave in and out across the countryside and it is very easy to take the wrong one and get lost. We arrived in
Erdenebulgan that afternoon and we wanted to continue to the river crossing but we were unable because we had to refill our gas tanks. The power in the town was out and nothing was working so we ended up being stuck for a few hours. A number of Mongolians were visiting the gas station periodically, waiting for gas just as we were. One such group were two interesting characters who took us to the river where we washed ourselves while they drank from a bottle of vodka. When we returned to the gas station I passed out in the back of the Niva while a dozen Mongolians started talking to Jack and Ezra*.
(*Ezra here to fill in the gap). Back a the gas station Jack and I whipped out the map to show our motorcycle buddies. We were trying to figure out if there was another place on the way the river crossing where we could get gas. Through multiple hand gestures we thought we had confirmed that another place for gas lay ahead and the dudes would guide us there as well. We were about to leave with them when more people began to gather around and take turns studying our map. As time went on it became clear that we had not communicated clearly with the motorcycle guys, who by the way seemed to be getting more and more drunk. The more we tried to communicate with other people the more it seemed we should not trust the guys on the bike. Luckily, we met a more trustworthy face in the crowd when a woman who seemed to know, or at least know the name, Chimga began helping us. As the power came back on, we got our gas and I took her to a house where I was told I would find a workable phone to call someone we knew in Mongolia who could translate for us. After passing the phone back and forth with the woman I was told that she would guide us to the place we needed to go. After driving her to her home where she picked up a day bag and her son we were off. -Ezra
She guided us to a home right next to the river that we needed to cross. The man who lived at the home, Bimba, pointed at me and pointed to the motorcycle he had just taken out from the back of his house. We thought he was getting ready to drive us across the river with his motorcycle and he was going to take us one by one. Instead he drove me for forty minutes up the river on a small dirt track. We crossed over swamps, plains, steep hills, and forests. Twice, he almost lost control of his bike while driving far to fast. After traveling through a forest with dense, tall grass, the trees broke and I saw across the river what looked like the top of a Monastery. We waited there for another thirty minutes until I saw walking up from the other side the figure of a woman, it was Chimga. Yelling across the river we then set a plan for the next day where we would have our Niva towed across the river by a tractor. She told me she was worried that our car would flip in the river however, because the current was very strong and our car was top heavy and very light. After our talk, Bimba drove me back to his house where Ezra and Jack were waiting. Bimba gave us an area to set up our tent where we fell asleep, so close to our final destination, wondering what would happen tomorrow.
-Richard
What an adventure!
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