All posts by bpheasant

Asia, roadtrip, travel

Ulaanbaatar to Murun

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Bikes mostly assembled and bikepacking bags loaded, we managed to get everything in the back of the loaf of bread for an early departure from Ulaanbaatar. We’d decided that two days of transport to the north of Mongolia was superior to a week of riding just to get to where we wanted to be riding. Thankfully the city wasn’t nearly as hot or congested for our exit west.

Sunday morning quietness. Warming up by now; especially in the basic interior of a bread loaf trundling along at 80 km/hr.

Out into the expanses.

Some sort of factory, which will always catch my eye.

Sportsground in a small town.

We drove alongside a large horse race for miles – quite entertaining with the speed on the surface. Some pretty young children involved as well, racing on the dirt tracks cross country. We had to wait a while on the highway as the race crossed the road.

More expanse. Just as well we didn’t get sick of it, a lot more to come.

The roads were mostly pretty good, and we made steady if not fast progress. But every so often the highway would be barricaded with piles of rocks and gravel for long stretches of construction or maintenance. In those cases, all the traffic was, not so much diverted as, left with no choice to find the best path beside what was supposed to be the road. Some mild chaos and bumpiness, but it all worked.

Pick a path!

Through Erdernet, with its huge copper mine – mining being Mongolia’s largest industry and export. Unfortunately we didn’t stop to take a closer look.

(Not a copper mine.)

We did stop for a short leg stretch at the top of a small pass – where there were a lot of stalls set up. Meat, milk products etc; the fermented mare’s milk was probably the least palatable thing (to me), I tasted in all of Mongolia – ugh.

Near the end of a long day’s driving, a little off-roading took us around the back of a small old volcano – pretty twisty, and up and down, through the trees but easy enough for our capable van. Nice to get out for a longer walk to the top of the hill and around the crater.

Late into the long evening after a even longer day sitting in the van, we had our first experience of Mongolian-camp-wherever-you-want – our driver finding a nice spot a few hundred metres from the road on the edge of a forest. As we would become accustomed to, eventually some locals came over (this time an old couple on a motorbike) to see what we were about. For the last time, we had someone who could speak Mongolia with us to explain our trip.

Thankfully the second day of driving was not as long as the first, we were well over halfway to Murun when we departed from our little campsite. Besides the ever expansive scenery, highlights of the day were seeing the proliferation of car camping all over the place, and seeing a large organised and supported cycle tour – we had to borrow one of their staff as translator when we stopped near them for lunch.

Settling in our guesthouse in Murun (a town of about fifty thousand), one of the young staff offered to show us the way to the biggest shops and find an ATM. She took quite a shine to Rachel, perhaps welcoming the chance to converse in English – with a Belfast accent. It was a pleasant distance to use the legs over, while we mulled over where to ride the next day; by this time, we were dead keen to get on the bikes and get riding after what felt like a long five days of travelling.

Wrestling stadium.

Overgrown colourful playgrounds (educational facilities closed for long summer break) always look vaguely menacing to me.

Creepy.

Asia, city, travel

Ulaanbaatar

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Mongolia wasn’t anywhere near my list of easy places to start a habit of Naseby-winter-avoiding bikepacking. Japan was top of that list, but I could hardly turn down the opportunity to visit Mongolia when Rachel suggested we start out trip a month earlier by flying to Ulaanbaatar. Ian was more easily convinced to join us, the three of us landing at Ulaanbatar airport early July.

Plenty of the expected big open spaces apparent on approach, we’d find later that the fences were an exception to the norm.

UBN – bigger than I was expecting.

First bicycle sighted?

The hostel we were staying at had sent a van to collect us and our three large bike boxes. In a sea of Japanese vehicles, I was pleased to spot a more unusual (to me) vehicle – a Russian UAZ van, nicknamed due to its resemblance to a loaf of bread.

Our ride to the city.

Three bike boxes fitted in here, thankfully, with a little thought.

Ian keeping an eye on things as we venture into the traffic, note the plush ceiling covering. Unfortunately the suspension was not so.

Big empty highway most of the way into the city.

Alas, it was not to last – extensive roadworks had snarled up the inner city traffic and we sat slowly cooking in the van for a couple of hours. Never mind, a new city to look at – with only mildly chaotic driving.

Few big coal power plants in the city contributing to the notorious air pollution in the winter. At least they also pump hot water around the city.

Should have brought a bigger wallet. About two thousand togrogs to a New Zealand dollar.

Over a bit more than a day we assembled our bikes, sorted what gear to take, bought a few things we couldn’t or had forgotten to bring, packed our gear, explored the city a bit and ate. All this was done by walking strangely elaborate, but now in various states of decay, paving. I’d been warned that Mongolian food was well below par, but in the city we mostly found good options from around Asia – Korean particularly, but also Japanese and Pakistani stand out. I expected a larger Soviet influence in the city than the small pockets we found.

The timing of an official visit from Japan seemed serendipitous.

Wedding party.

Walking back streets through tower blocks looking for a map store.

Annoyingly, the map store was no longer where it was marked on Maps.

Found it eventually – very near to our hostel. Through the language barrier, some paper maps of where we were intending to ride were purchased.

That done, eager to get riding, we were left with final preparations for the drive over the following two days to northern Mongolia.

Asia, bikepacking, bikes, friends, travel

From the road – down the northeast coast of Hokkaido

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A bit of a blur of a week down the northeast coast of Hokkaido, from which I’m having to use photos and Strava posts to remind me of – not the best sign.

Off the ferry, we weren’t in Wakkanai for long – a helpful wind pushing us around the bay in the late afternoon heat. We diverted up a steep sweaty climb on the Path of White Shells – road surface is coarsely crushed scallop shells, long bleached by the sun. More sika deer, but the highlight was the dusk views of Rishiri, Rebun and finally we could see Russia forty-odd kilometres away.

The northern tip of Japan, Cape Soya, was reached soon after. The tourist traps all closed for the night, the small numbers at the monument were quite bearable. We pottered for a bit before trying to find somewhere to camp. We found a great spot next to yet another artificial harbour – picnic shelter, power outlets, toilets and grass. The only disadvantage was the fishing boats going and coming from two in the morning – diesel thrums disturbing any remaining sleep for me.

A few days of about a hundred kilometres with few hills along a more prosperous looking coastline (compared to the northwest, fewer abandoned buildings, bit more going on, plenty of scallop processing plants and big dairy farms) commenced. Thankfully, while still hot, we didn’t have high humidity to deal with. I got a bit tired of seeing so much concrete in the sea – coastal protections, artificial harbours; unlike the northwest coast we did see, and stop at, some beaches which were pleasant.

The highlight for me was a friendly Japanese couple, Yumi and Ken, that we met at one of the free campsites. They are from Yokohama area and were traveling in their van for a week or so – Ken having been to Hokkaido forty-odd times. They seemed keen to meet foreigners and spoke English far better than we speak Japanese. They invited us to dinner and Ken cooked up a storm, we’d previously resupplied to cook for ourselves so there was plenty of food and Sapporo beer over a fun discussion. It was good being able to ask some of the questions of Japanese life and language we’d been accumulating.

There must have once been a train line running up the coast as we kept seeing signs – disconnected bits of rail trail, old rail corridors and later old steam locomotives on display. There were even a couple of places where you could stay cheaply in an old carriage that had had seats removed and hard sleeping platforms installed – unfortunately we didn’t find them at the end of any days. My curiosity of what the line was used for, when it closed and its general history was never satisfied – there were no helpful information boards.

One big section was rideable – twenty three asphalted kilometres into Abashiri (which is still serviced by Japan Rail, so no more rail trail for a while), it looked like it had been converted to trail decades ago and generally neglected. Nice to be off the road though. Previously we’d ridden a similarly old section of sealed rail trail, after bashing through a bit of gravel road overgrown with bamboo, which was deserted and delightful – until we got to a bridge that was closed and barricaded. A bit of backtracking was needed through the nice forest, thankfully we didn’t come across the bear that had left some droppings on the path some time earlier.

The Abashiri Prison Museum was an interesting historical glimpse into Hokkaido. I hadn’t realised that the island hadn’t really been set up for settling until late in the nineteenth century – and then mostly to ward off the “menace” of expanding Russia. Prisoners did a lot of road, and other, building quickly in demanding conditions. Having spent a decent period there, we didn’t have time to get out of the city so went to the nearby auto-camp, Tent-o-rando, to find the campsites were “full” – so we opted for a small chalet for the night. The ride off the hill the next day was great – first a very impressive playground to explore, then a fun route of gravel back roads through forest and farms before a long stretch of rollers through cropping land.

Lunch in Shiri near the railway station showed a town that didn’t look so neglected, which was a nice change. The heat ramped up again that afternoon as we headed back to the coast on the nastiest section of highway we’ve encountered – no shoulder and the edge of the lane was in very poor condition. Thankfully drivers remain courteous. Stopping at vending machines for a cold drink, we found a delightfully retro coffee shop run by two senior women. Photos of the pack of ice, that comes down from a Russian river, to block in the harbour in winter were shown. The closest we got were the ice cold towels provided to cool us. I was interested in a cabinet of classic Japanese cameras, but bemused by the Colt 45 and 9 mm pistols sitting on the bottom shelf.

A couple of waterfalls to see and tunnels to negotiate and we were in Utoro, our gateway to Shiretoko National Park before the forecast rain arrived. While I posted another kilogram of unneeded gear home, Rachel and Orlaith were checking into the campground and being told of trail closures due to a hiker having been dragged into the forest by a bear – eek.

Photo dump still here.

Asia, bikepacking, bikes, hiking, national park, travel

From the road – Rishiri and Rebun Islands

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Easily the highlight of Japan so far – still close to the coast but we found some hills.

The expected rain certainly arrived the morning we got on the ferry in Wakkanai bound for Rishiri. An uneventful voyage over on a pretty empty, larger than expected, boat. We rode an hour or so to the north of the island and the main town, imaginatively Rishiri Town, on a mixture of the main ring road (quiet) and a cycle path (even quieter).

The first campground we checked was deserted and had no views, being inland a bit and surrounded by trees. We decided to check another down on the point near the harbour, lighthouse and onsen. Much better with views, close to town facilities and a few others were camping. Had good tea and coffee in a delightfully retro coffee house before coming back to the campground. Nice sunset, but Mt Rishiri that dominates the island remained capped in cloud.

Up early on Saturday, not to decamp as normal, but to ride 16 km to the trailhead of the Mt Rishiri track. We’d climbed a couple of hundred metres on the bikes, so that meant we were already drenched in sweat early in the morning and there was only 1500 m left to climb on foot. It started off through nice forest, mostly spruce I think. As that thinned, the track steepened and started to get busier. Close as the atmosphere was, there was the odd rain shower too – enough to put jackets on, to really make sure we stayed drenched in sweat.

Occasionally there were glimpses through the foliage and clouds of the summit and ridges above us, and back down to the coast. But mostly we walked in cloud admiring the immediate scenery of foliage, rocky track that must take quite some maintenance and some impressive butterflies. The trail got really busy with people both ascending and descending as we neared the top. The rain resumed just before the summit, so we waited around a bit before heading up to admire the clouds and take a few photos.

As expected, descending 1500 m in six kilometres was hard on the legs – three days later and I still can’t go down stairs without restriction! Even a hot pool that night, after a fun dinner at a local bar watching our tempura being made in front of us, doesn’t seem to have helped much. Having enjoyed island life so much, which is an odd thing to say as Hokkaido is itself an island, we started to contemplate taking an extra day away from the mainland and seeing what is on Rebun Island to the north.

Sunday brought a leisurely forty kilometre ride around Rishiri. Initially it looked like this would have been the day to climb the mountain, as we could finally see the summit – but it soon clouded over for the day. The highlight of riding around the island was stopping to watch and question a local group (probably a family) in a small garage processing hundreds of sea urchins, from that morning’s catch. We got to sample some too, raw they were salty with a hint of sweetness – yum, provided the texture didn’t put one off!

The best part of the riding was saved for the last five kilometres into Rishirifuji (the main ferry terminal on the island is here). We climbed into the forest above the coast on what felt like an old narrow gauge railway – but I can’t imagine why there was ever such a thing on the island with an easy coastal road. The views of the mountain and out over the coast to the sea were excellent, and the bridges across deep gorges equally so. We made it in plenty of time to get an earlier ferry than we’d planned.

A much shorter voyage this time, and not so popular – there were almost as many bikes and motorcycles on board as cars.  Off the ferry, we bought groceries for overnight before setting off north for a campground. A small island, this didn’t take long. Having made camp, there was plenty of time before sunset for a wee bimble.

A little bit of a climb after a short ride to Cape Sukoton, a small island just off there and generally interesting rocks. On the return we took some back roads to view different bays and coves. Unfortunately I missed the best cove when I sailed down a hill while the others were investigating something off to the side. Oh well, I could get dinner started.

Just as we were leaving Monday morning, we heard some kiwi accents. Turns out it was Rob and Haidee – the people behind the Hokkaido Wilds website that we have been using for route ideas. Great to chat and learn a bit more of the island and their adventures living in Japan – they’d just come off the water, having been kayaking since two in the morning as part of their circumnavigation of Rebun.

We’d seen some walking routes advertised around the island, so thought we’d give the forest one down the centre of the island a go on our leisurely way back to the ferry. It turned out to be the riding highlight of the first two weeks, and counting, in Hokkaido. A steeply climbing barely used double track, it was thankfully shaded by forest for the main part of the ascent. Still, it was hot and humid. As we approached the ridge, the forest gave way to tall bamboo and views to the coast, and Rishiri, were there. The bamboo covering of the hills still reminds me of tea growing in East Africa – beautiful.

Stopping often for views, sadly the biggest section of off pavement of the trip so far (less than ten kilometres :/ ) was over (more, please!). We dropped to a new 1500 m tunnel through to a small settlement (seems excessive use of such a tunnel) on the west coast. Pleasingly it was very cool underground. We pottered around the small section of coast looking at some impressive and photogenic rocks, and dipped in the warm sea.

Back through the tunnel, we still had plenty of time to ride the extent of the roads south. I was pleased to finally see some colourful houses! Not on the scale of Mongolian brilliance, but after ten days in Hokkaido it was exciting. A long lunch back near the ferry terminal and we were on our way back to Wakkanai. Goodbye to two great little islands – easily the highlight of the first two weeks in Hokkaido.

Photo dump here.