It rained, to some degree, all night – so breakfast and decamping in the wet, not the brightest start to the day. Rejoining the dirt road, the rain had reduced to a cooling drizzle for the four hundred metre climb. The dirt was slick, which made for amusing viewing of the reduced number of two wheel drive vehicles slipping and sliding up, and down, the hill.
Plenty to look at despite the grey cap on the morning.
At the pass we enjoyed hearing the tales of a trio (two Brits and an American) touring on hired Chinese motorcycles – many surmountable mechanical issues!
A lovely downhill to speed things up a bit. One of my rear rack bolts worked its way loose – to add to the annoying list of small gear failures; thankfully I had plenty of spares.
Standing stones and burial mounds – although burial is a misnomer, bodies left for the elements to reclaim them apparently.
Terrain levelling out again to cross another big valley floor.
Top of a wee climb, time for a rest.
Rest at top/meet another large family group on their Prius travels.
They were very interested in our trip, and wanted a lot of photos with us and bikes. Much fun again.
We were each given a large handful of this dried yoghurt snack. Teeth-destroyingly hard, I was snacking on this gift for the next two weeks. A little chunk of the slightly salty solid could only be consumed by slowly dissolving it in one’s mouth for ten to fifteen minutes. First time, I bit off far more than I could chew (it was impossible to chew any really) and struggled to with a large jagged hunk in my mouth for miles.
Impressive granite formations on the way down to the next river.
Excellent to have mine manager (when not hauling an impressive amount of dried food around northern Mongolia) Ian along to impart some of his rock knowledge.
Don’t think we’d ridden three hundred whatevers by this stage.
More rocks close to the river.
The town of Jargalant coming into view for a resupply.
On a days-long quest to find sunscreen lip balm (it’s amusing some of the small things we unexpectedly struggled to find), we found a pharmacy but with no success. But it did provide a memorable encounter when we started chatting to the owner’s son outside the store. Eleven years old, his command of the English language was impressive for having only learnt it watching YouTube on his mother’s phone. Impressive and amusing – with hints of an American accent and some unexpected turns of phrase. Regaling us with tales of the town’s nadaam festival (we’d just missed yet another one!), he was explaining how there was betting on the races. He was remarkably upbeat for someone earnestly proclaiming that he’d “gambled his life away” the day before!
Riding out of town, no bets on this horse versus bike match-up.
There was some signs of a tourist camp on the way out of town, but it wasn’t required – we had food and tents.
Up another valley we went.
Ten kilometres out of town we found a suitable place to camp – I think it was my favourite spot of the trip. Beautiful view, nice grass, a refreshing river to bathe and wash clothes in, plenty of animal and herding activity to watch, and useful trees to cook, sit and hang clothes on.
