I got up today and said “God let me find gas at Klyuchevskiy”. I tore down my tent, loaded up and departed, looking for gas. I pulled out of my campsite and saw a small stream running in the ditch. I stopped and cleaned my visor inside and out. It was so dirty I thought the blacktop roads were gravel roads. I also flushed out the radiator again, washed the signals lights, mirrors, GPS, speedometer, tachometer and taillight. I didn’t know it at this time that I was going to spend the next five hours looking for gas. I continued on M55 toward Klyuchevskiy. I came to a “T” in the road which Matilda wanted me to drive down. I stopped at the roadside café and asked if Klyuchevskiy had gas. The guy there said yes. That was good news. So I ate dinner there, bought water and, of course, my Snickers candy bars. This was an out of the way roadside restaurant that didn’t do much business. The service was great and the lady was very perceptive about what she had available and what I wanted. She nodded her head yes or no about the food I wanted without a word spoken. The food was as good as any other roadside restaurant. Before I left I asked if I could take her picture and I will put it in this blog. I also gave her my card and so if by chance she ever gets a chance to look at my blog she may see herself. I’m sure she will be shocked to death. I left and headed toward Klyuchevskiy. I travelled about 3 miles/6 kms and met this local motorcycle rider. I asked him if any gas was available in Klyjuchevskiy. He said no 92 octane gas was available. I said this is not good. I turned around and drove back to M55. I continued driving east and saw no signs for Klyjuchevskiy. This town is supposed to have gas. I drove probably 6 miles/10 Kms and Klyjuchevskiy started disappearing off my GPS. This is not a good sign. They are working road construction in this area so I stopped and asked the bulldozer operator if there gas in Klyjuchevskiy. He says he doesn’t know because he’s not from the area. He tells me to drive east on M55 to a bridge and there’s a road to Klyjuchevskiy. So off I go to the bridge looking for the sign to Klyjuchevsjiy. I found the sign, turned left and headed to the Klyjuchevskiy. As I drove the road got worse and worse. Thank God I only have to drive 3 miles/6 Kms. It was only minutes before I realized I was driving one of Russia’s finest roads. I was dodging potholes large and small and had to ford several of the large potholes that were full of water. I was pretty proud of myself for being able to drive thru 12 inch/33 cm deep potholes. I came to a fairly large creek and drove through axle-deep water. I continued on, missing potholes until I encountered a small river with over the foot peg-deep water. I stopped and pondered that one for a while. There were three 12 to 13 year boys on the other side and one sitting on a motorcycle motioned to me that the left side of the river was the shallowest. I looked at it and he was right. I could see the bottom. I couldn’t see the bottom on the right side and the water was chocolate brown. I said “well here we go”, and down into the river I went. Water was flying everywhere and everything was going good. Keep in mind I’m driving on crushed rock and had no idea what the bottom was really like. I started up out of the water and was climbing the riverbank. I gave it a little extra gas and had to veer to the right to miss the kid on the motorcycle. Here is where it got interesting. The motorcycle dived to the right and I turned right to correct the dive and I almost saved it. I think the front wheel lost traction and down I went. Once everything stopped moving I shut off the engine. It was a controlled crash and my bike was laying on it right side. I had a hold of the handlebars all the way to the ground. I stood up and bowed to my audience. I am sure they thought that was real dumb. I didn’t damage the motorcycle because it tipped over in soft black dirt which I was glad about. I asked the guys if they would help lift it up. Two of the boys came over and helped. The third just sat on his motorcycle. The first lift we didn’t get it on two wheels. Then I asked the two boys to try again. There was a lot of grunting going on and this time we got her back on two wheels. I promptly tried starting the bike. It really didn’t want to start. Once I got her running I dug in my bags and found one of my Snicker candy bars and cut it in half. I gave half to each of the boys who helped and the 3rd got nothing. Both of the boys said thank you and put it in their coat pocket. Again I forgot to take a picture of my bike lying on its side. I asked them about gas and they said at the gas station and pointed in the direction to go. I left feeling lucky I finally found gas.
I just ran out of battery in my laptop computer. I’m back after I charged it up a little with my inverter off my motorcycle. I continued driving down the road until I reached the outskirts of the village. Two girls 12 or 13 years of age were walking on the road. I stopped and asked them where the gas station was. They pointed in the direction and watched as I drove off. I went in the direction I thought they told me and then I looked back at them. They were watching me intently so I stopped. I pointed in the direction I was going and they pointed in the opposite direction. I pointed behind me and they shook their heads yes and pointed in the same direction I was pointing. I turned around and continued driving until I found the gas station. I pulled up and I looked at the 92 octane tank. It didn’t have “no gas” written on the pump so I felt lucky I found gas. I got off my bike and rapped on the large gas tank and it sounded so empty. I asked the lady taking money if they had 92 Octane gas and she said were out. Boy, now I’m in trouble. Where do I get gas? Do I flag someone down and ask if I can siphon off a couple of liters of gas or what? I really don’t want to do that. So I stood there pondering my situation. A car, a large truck and several motorcycles filled up with gas while I was standing there. I went over and looked at one of the motorcycles and the guy motioned that he will trade his motorcycle for my motorcycle. I told him no thanks. Then I got this brilliant idea. The Russian-made motorcycles and cars run on this 80 octane stinky gas. If I buy two liters of this 80 octane gas and mix it with one liter of my 92 octane gas it will improve the gas and maybe I can make the next town. So I did that. Then I asked the gas station lady if the next town had 92 octane gas. She very definitely said yes and pointed in the direction of the town. I added the three liters of gas to my motorcycle gas tank and took off. This road was no better than the road I just drove. Potholes, potholes, and more potholes. I was driving about 10 or 15 Mph/16 or 25 Kph and several of the local boys went flying by me about 30 Mph/50 Kph. They were making fun of how slow I was driving on this fancy Kawasaki I was driving. They stopped down the road and indicated I should stop, drink Vodka and smoke with them. I declined. I kept going and the road eventually ended up on Highway M55. A road construction crew was working in the area and I asked the supervisor if Mogocha had gasoline. He said yes and drew a map for me. I drove up to the T in the road, turned left and went 7 miles/11 Kms to Mogocha. When I entered the city, two guys riding a motorcycle with a side car showed me where the gas station was. I pulled into the gas station and all they had was 95 Octane gas. That’s not really good for cars or my motorcycle according to the guys I met in Samara. In a pinch it is ok to use in your vehicle, but not to make a steady diet of it. It apparently lacks additive that modern cars and motorcycles need. I was just thrilled to finally have gas and be able to fill my three jugs with gasoline. I was set to take on the world, or at least Highway M55. I pushed my bike out of the way of the cars coming into the gas station because this was a major fueling spot on the highway. Just like me, everybody needed gas to continue on. I looked across the street and guess what; a grocery store. Just what I was looking for! I drove over and parked my bike. It instantly drew a crowd. Nobody really said anything so I went into the store. This store had nothing that I wanted but Snickers candy bars so I bought them. I wanted water but they had none. I was about leave, then got the idea this was a kind of mall, but much rougher than anything I saw before. I walked around and saw a vegetable vendor. I purchased carrots, apples, bananas, cucumbers and grapes. I think the whole works was pretty expensive. Other than the bananas and grapes everything keeps for days so I didn’t mind paying a little extra for it. I also asked around and finally found a liter of water which I drank half of on the spot. I was sweating profusely. I went back to my bike and a crowd of 6 to 8 guys old and young wanted to know about my motorcycle. I told them what I could and they all left. Some were indicating I have a lot of money. One thing that always bothers me is when people see you eating fruit like bananas and grapes, it implies you have money. So I would never eat this type of fruit when I had an audience especially out in the villages. The vegetables and apples I ate anywhere but not bananas and grapes. I can still remember when I was a young child, the kids in my hometown being able to buy candy and ice cream at the store and my brothers and sisters having to stand around and watch them eat it. I never liked the concept of the have and have nots. In the worst case scenario it leads to crime. After everybody left I was eating a candy bar and drinking water when this 27 to 30 year old guy walks up and looks at my motorcycle. He obviously really liked it. He asked me about the motorcycle, family, America, and where I was from. He told me about his son and wife. His wife was walking up, he introduced her, she gave him a dirty look, and walked off. Apparently she either didn’t approve of me or him admiring my motorcycle. They were driving a new smaller four wheel drive Japanese vehicle so I know he or she had a relatively good job to afford that vehicle. After they drove off I got on my motorcycle with the extra weight of 12 liters of gasoline. I drove out to Highway M55 and then continued east until I found a campsite for the night. It was a long day with a lot of stress finding gas. My campsite was about 450 yards/400 meters off the road and out of sight. Before I set my tent up I immediately got out the grapes and bananas and ate them. They tasted so good. After I got my tent put up I ate one of the cucumbers and then worked on my blog. I found out if I run my inverter for an hour it does not drain my motorcycle battery enough so I can’t start my motorcycle. That’s nice information to know. I went to bed.
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