Category Archives: Asia

The Christmas Letter 2025

The first half of my year centred around building my garage with Don (brother-in-law’s father). An extremely satisfying and fun project with much problem solving and progress, unsure how I’d have managed it without Don’s help.

Garage building was done around a couple of trips to Napier for some work in the sawmill, experiencing being an extra on a TV series that was being filmed nearby, continuing to volunteer on the local ambulance and finally visiting Stewart Island for a three-generation family holiday.

Fascinating to see behind the scenes, the effort and resource going in seemed somewhat unreal.

Clean shaven for a change, on the off chance you see this mug on the small screen pretending to do some carpentry.

Fortunate to stay in a place owned by friends, surrounded by native trees.

Lots of time around the water, mostly walking, some running and James caught plenty of fish to keep us well fed.

Hiking and camping with my nephews also a highlight.

Besides mountain-biking in the Naseby forest, there wasn’t a lot of New Zealand biking. Some notable rides with friends included local day rides, an overnighter on the Old Woman Range, two trips on the always-fantastic Heaphy Track, and a weekend mountain-biking on the Craigieburn trails.

In June, Mum and I went from Broome to Darwin over two weeks in a campervan. An excellent trip I’ll remember for there being a lot of rocks, trees, birds, spectacular sunsets, crocodiles and heat.

Bit of a shock driving home.

Returning from Australia, there was just enough time to finish lining the garage, move all my belongings from the cottage I’d been renting for three years into the garage and pack for my first bikepacking trip abroad in years – and my longest one. Happily, a long-held desire to visit Japan and it seeming an easy option to get back into some foreign bike touring coincided with bikepacking buddy Rachel’s plan to also tour Japan this year. Visiting Mongolia for a month beforehand wasn’t something I was initially keen on, but I could hardly turn down the chance to go with Rachel and Ian.

We thoroughly enjoyed riding through the big open spaces where one could go and camp almost anywhere. Not without its challenges, we left after a month wanting to return and explore more of the country as the landscapes were beautiful and vast, history interesting, the people very friendly – and the food was better than we’d been led to believe. I’ve not had the energy to document the trip yet, nor do I have many photos of me – thankfully Rachel did a far better job of keeping a record of our travels.

Stopped again by locals driving past in a Toyota Prius, offering local delicacies and support.

(Rachel’s photo.)

Second camel ride for the year.

Japan was also excellent to tour, at the opposite end of many spectrums from Mongolia. Apart from the heat, which took a couple of weeks to ease slightly and get used to, it was far easier going but equally fascinating. We enjoyed the landscapes (particularly visiting many [thirty-four] islands, geothermal areas, mountains, golden rice fields, forests and very clear sea, lakes and rivers). Generally avoiding the cities, the depopulating and decaying rural areas were quite a sight. The food was excellent – my favourites a hot soup curry in Hokkaido and a memorable sashimi meal, but over three months too many excellent ones to remember. Somehow I’ve more snaps, thanks to Rachel and Orlaith, to post here.

Later in the trip, we found many excellent bakeries.

Another day, another convenience store – resupply was seldom an issue.

Occasionally we got off sealed roads and paths – meeting the local spiders and leeches here.

My birthday spent climbing Mt Asahidake, the highest point in Hokkaido, was one of my favourite parts of the trip.

Thankfully the bears we did meet were not as ferocious as these ones.

Again, I’d happily return to see more of Japan – despite having ridden over six thousand circuitous kilometres from north to south, there’s more to see (did I mention the food?). Again, Rachel’s account is far better than the one I may one day get around to.

Back in New Zealand, I enjoyed catching up with friends up north before heading home in time for celebration of a significant birthday of Dad’s – great to see all of his siblings down in Naseby for a busy (and tiring!) long weekend. Unexpectedly, after years of wanting one, an EV that ticked most of many boxes became mine after happening to be going through Christchurch. It’s quite a step up from the venerable Corolla (still going strong) and I’m enjoying the change – and looking forward to it powering my off-grid job site. To end the year, ground was finally broken on my small house project – which will keep me busy for most of next year, and beyond. Quite exciting, but also overwhelming.

Merry Christmas and all the best for the coming year!

Lake Khovsgol out and back from Murun

After five days of traveling from the south of New Zealand to the north of Mongolia, we were itching to get riding – even if it was a rather damp morning. Somehow my wish to travel a bit further north to Lake Khovsgol (Mongolia’s largest lake, holding almost seventy percent of the country’s freshwater) for a look made it into our plans – I generally stayed out of route planning in Mongolia. Doing a three-day trip north, where we didn’t have to carry all our gear, worked well as a shakedown and reintroduction to bikepacking.

Even the locals were looking bedraggled as we set off into the rain.

Not many photos initially as the light rain got heavier and heavier over the main pass of the day.

Being on a rare sealed road helped with all the water around and the traffic was light and considerate – at times very friendly with a lot of toots, waves and occasional offers of food and lifts. Bit of a shock for the legs riding a loaded bike again, especially as the road would be a gentle gradient for long periods before suddenly climbing steeply to get over a hill – no switchbacks here.

Pleased to find a tearooms for lunch after one such steep climb, especially as the rain had cleared and it was getting hot.

Typical broad valley with a short, sharp, steep climb out.

Ger camps, of varying sizes, would become a common sight for us – families out for the summer with their animals grazing. We saw signs of some of the forests dying too, never found out why.

A little clamber above the stalls at the top of another rise.

Throughout the afternoon the northerly strengthened to make riding rather hard work, before the heavens opened again as we got to Hatgal – the town at the foot of the lake.

We found a small restaurant to shelter from the rain in and started the fun of trying to decipher the menu – this time with some help from a child at the next table. Fed, there was not much appetite left for riding further and camping in the rain – so we found a guesthouse and settled into a ger for the night.

Of course the sun came out; but after we’d showered and warmed up, it did help to dry some things out.

Bigger than my tent. Nice to have after an alarmingly tiring day first up!

A clearer day next dawned, as we sought supplies for a short ride around the lake and camping overnight.

Decaying buildings continued to intrigue me.

As do contrastingly colourful ones.

Leaving town, we soon turned off the previous day’s route to cross Egiin Gol – which drains the lake, the water taking over a thousand kilometres to get to Lake Baikal which is only two hundred kilometres away.

One little rise,

before dropping to the lakeside.

Turning off the gravel road to get closer to the lake, the tracks we were following soon turned to wetland and bogs. Progress slowed as we tried to find the best route through. That meant we had plenty of time to look across the lake to the colourful town and meet our first herd of yaks.

Through some pretty deserted tourist summer camps (Hi De Hi vibes), a fairly flat rise then took us to a deserted area where we could find just enough dry ground to make camp.

Not a bad spot to sleep in a new tent for the first time.

But still many hours left of the day, unloaded we headed north to find a view up the lake (it’s well over a hundred kilometres long) from the Wishing Monument.

Sign didn’t say we couldn’t go through the imposing, closed gates.

Wildflowers!

Can confirm, it’s a big lake. Russia just beyond the end of it.

Up to the Wishing Monument.

It was surprisingly busy, noisy speedboats bringing people from the more developed western side of the lake.

As uncrowded a snap of the monument I could get.

Afternoon storm starting to get a bit closer.

Back to find where we’d stashed the bikes and try to outrun the storm.

Fairly typical surface in these parts.

We returned to camp just as the rain started, hid for a while in our tents before it cleared again for some swimming and cooking. Day after dawned clear and we enjoyed a slight tailwind back towards Murun, first taking the longer and less-boggy route back to the road.

Remembering some passing snaps of the holiday camps.

And friendly yaks.

We didn’t have time to go and see the reindeer people up in the mountains near the Siberian border, but some had brought their animals down – but tied up with nothing to do, it was faintly depressing seeing them so.

We returned to the same teahouse for lunch, and managed more conversation than the previous day. I was pleased to try these pockets filled with minced meat of some description – after being denied at dinner two nights before. The salty milky tea became a favourite too.

A lot of vultures hanging out.

Back through fifty degrees north, hundred degrees east.

Trying to outrun another afternoon storm – successfully this time.

A much easier ride back – net descent helps, along with even quieter roads as most people seem have gotten to the summer Naadam festival – that we managed to keep missing by a day or so everywhere we went.

Back at the guesthouse in Murun, we reclaimed our extra gear and set about spreading out and packing for the touring proper after a successful shakedown.

Ulaanbaatar to Murun

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.

Ulaanbaatar

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.