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.