Defeated by the side roads, we drove back to Olgiy. Yet, even before we reached the town, we decided to go on and try to do a triangular trip that would take us down south to Hovd then north to Ulangoon and than through the north road to Tsagaannuur and back to Olgiy. These roads are painted red on our map, so they should be nice main roads.
And the first road from Olgyi to Howd was exactly like it. Nice asphalt road with a surprisingly good surface. Full 40 km out of 248 km of it. Then came a wide gravel road. The came a narrow gravel and sand road. Then came the hills and with them the rocks and the rocky roads that reminded me of bad roads at NORRA 1000 or some better rocky roads at Baja 1000 races. I haven't done either in the Trabant, but after our experience here...just kidding Dennis, just kidding. We started to crawl at 30, then 20, then 15km per hour.
I am writing this two days later, but I do not remember where we slept, or what went wrong with the car. Which could probably tell you that these were quite eventful days. Wait a minute, now I remember that we went through out first water crossing. We spent a lot of time on that crossing but crossed if fairly well. I am now starting to understand to all the crazy explorers of the past and the present a bit better. The more difficult obstacle they get through the more it closes their way back. I guess there are two aspects to it. First, if you wish to return, you would have to go through the same obstacle again. And if "it was a bitch" the first time, it is not going to be any better the second time. You just consider it a fluke of nature that cannot happen again down the road in the future. Right? Usually wrong, but after getting through a tough obstacle, the future is very, very rosy. Second, the idea of "how can I go back when I made it so far?" is a great motivator too.
As we drove on, we could not find any camping place to our liking, and so, we just drove on and on. When the dark was coming closer, we knew that we have to stop and pitch up the tents. Obviously, our choice, forced upon us by the coming dark, was way worse than any of the missed previous places that were not worth of the two connoisseurs of the camp selection. The place where we had to stay in the end was a wind swept side of a hill with rocks and no grass.
It is always a good comedy when two older man try to set up their tents in a bit of a wind. Chasing after the tent bag that flies away while your unfinished tent disintegrates is perhaps just first act with some better stuff still to come. While Hynek put the tent behind the car, I set up mine from the other side of the car. Here in Altai, as the sun goes down, the wind usually gets stronger. Is it caused by the cooling of the rock faces of the mountains that generate the wind stream? I do not know, but it seems plausible enough that I believe in it. Hey, people believe in more dangerous ideas, don't they?
As you may see, I do not know much about this "wind stuff" which I have proven by setting the tent by its side into the wind. As the sun set, the wind grew stronger and stronger, until it got so bad that the tent was basically folding on me and then, when the wind stopped for a few seconds, unfolding again. And that meant only one thing. Take down the tent and set it up in a sheltered place behind a rock. If the first setting up of the tents was a comedy, this second one might get nominated for the Oscars. My dance in the thorny desert plants that got into my shoes while I was catching the pieces of the flying away tent would put any performance by Ginger and Fred to shame.
But to use the one cliche a day I allowed to myself, as the saying goes, "where there is a will there is a way". The tent was standing sheltered by a huge rock and I was happily sleeping inside having the dreams of all the good things that await us in the future.
And the first road from Olgyi to Howd was exactly like it. Nice asphalt road with a surprisingly good surface. Full 40 km out of 248 km of it. Then came a wide gravel road. The came a narrow gravel and sand road. Then came the hills and with them the rocks and the rocky roads that reminded me of bad roads at NORRA 1000 or some better rocky roads at Baja 1000 races. I haven't done either in the Trabant, but after our experience here...just kidding Dennis, just kidding. We started to crawl at 30, then 20, then 15km per hour.
I am writing this two days later, but I do not remember where we slept, or what went wrong with the car. Which could probably tell you that these were quite eventful days. Wait a minute, now I remember that we went through out first water crossing. We spent a lot of time on that crossing but crossed if fairly well. I am now starting to understand to all the crazy explorers of the past and the present a bit better. The more difficult obstacle they get through the more it closes their way back. I guess there are two aspects to it. First, if you wish to return, you would have to go through the same obstacle again. And if "it was a bitch" the first time, it is not going to be any better the second time. You just consider it a fluke of nature that cannot happen again down the road in the future. Right? Usually wrong, but after getting through a tough obstacle, the future is very, very rosy. Second, the idea of "how can I go back when I made it so far?" is a great motivator too.
As we drove on, we could not find any camping place to our liking, and so, we just drove on and on. When the dark was coming closer, we knew that we have to stop and pitch up the tents. Obviously, our choice, forced upon us by the coming dark, was way worse than any of the missed previous places that were not worth of the two connoisseurs of the camp selection. The place where we had to stay in the end was a wind swept side of a hill with rocks and no grass.
It is always a good comedy when two older man try to set up their tents in a bit of a wind. Chasing after the tent bag that flies away while your unfinished tent disintegrates is perhaps just first act with some better stuff still to come. While Hynek put the tent behind the car, I set up mine from the other side of the car. Here in Altai, as the sun goes down, the wind usually gets stronger. Is it caused by the cooling of the rock faces of the mountains that generate the wind stream? I do not know, but it seems plausible enough that I believe in it. Hey, people believe in more dangerous ideas, don't they?
As you may see, I do not know much about this "wind stuff" which I have proven by setting the tent by its side into the wind. As the sun set, the wind grew stronger and stronger, until it got so bad that the tent was basically folding on me and then, when the wind stopped for a few seconds, unfolding again. And that meant only one thing. Take down the tent and set it up in a sheltered place behind a rock. If the first setting up of the tents was a comedy, this second one might get nominated for the Oscars. My dance in the thorny desert plants that got into my shoes while I was catching the pieces of the flying away tent would put any performance by Ginger and Fred to shame.
But to use the one cliche a day I allowed to myself, as the saying goes, "where there is a will there is a way". The tent was standing sheltered by a huge rock and I was happily sleeping inside having the dreams of all the good things that await us in the future.