19 July 2009 4 kilometers west of Never, Eastern Russia

I got up and was standing next to my tent pondering the day when a motorcycle with a sidecar started coming down the road toward my tent. When they looked down the road and saw my tent they immediately turned around and left. I started up my motorcycle and used my inverter to charge up my laptop while I tore down my tent and got ready to leave. While I was in the process of getting ready to leave a small truck drove up the road until he saw me then turned around and left. I finished loading my motorcycle and left. When I was back on the highway again I found a small stream in the ditch again and cleaned my visor on my helmet. The road is all gravel so there no use in oiling the chain. It will only attract dust and increase the wear on the sprockets and chain. My bike now is heavier with the extra 12 liters of gas and my extra spare front tire. It’s extremely important I drive carefully with my top-heavy bike. The rest of the day I drove in mostly gravel with occasional small patches of blacktop. The small patches of blacktop gave my hands and arms a chance to rest from the constant vibration of the handle bars. I spotted a small Greek Orthodox Chapel up on a hill. I drove up near it, stopped, and walked up the hill to it. To my surprise the door wasn’t locked so I opened the door. I took a picture of the items left on the window sills and a picture of Mother Mary. I left some money as an offering and walked outside. I walked around the chapel and took some more pictures. I closed the latch on the door and left. It’s the world’s smallest Greek Orthodox Chapel in the world. I took some more pictures of the signs in the area and left. I have no idea why the chapel was built.

Dust and more dust. Oh, the dust. As I drove I always found gas every 70 to 100 miles/112 to 161 kms. I don’t know why that guy told me there wasn’t any gas for 450 miles/ 700 kms. I never had a problem finding gas after that one incident. If the gas station that was out of gas would have had gas I never would have needed to carry the extra 12 liters of gas with me. As a result of carrying the extra 12 liters of gas on the top box the paint was ruined. All the shaking and vibration of the plastic bottles combined with the dust and sand wore the paint right off the top of the box. I must have looked for over an hour to find my campsite tonight. I checked probably five or six different potential campsites, none of them up to my standards. I just looked at my watch and its 10:30 p.m. It’s still daylight and I just got my tent put up. No trip planning tonight, it’s too late and too dark. The mosquitoes are a real hassle for a great campsite. I haven’t missed them or the flies the last couple of nights. I drove a really horrible road all day which was interspersed with heaven sent sporadic new black top. I am camping 4 kilometers west of Never. I was shooting today to get out of the worst road construction and didn’t know till I looked on my Russian Road Atlas that I had actually driven out of it. It was like a load was lifted off my shoulders. The worst was now behind me. I am by far not out of road construction, potholes, or mud, just out of the worst of worst road construction. I worked some on my blog and went to bed.

18 July 2009 East of Klyjuchevsjiy, Eastern Russia

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.

17 July 2009, west of Klyuchevskiy, Eastern Russia

I got up and was outside the tent when another diesel truck stopped on top of the hill with a valve stuck open. I don’t know how the drivers un-stick the stuck valve, but they always seem to do it. The engine will be idling and clattering away one moment and next the valve closes and it sounds like a normal diesel engine. Then they drive off. I can understand why those valves stick. If you saw the amount of dust those trucks drive through daily you would just shake your head. After several years of that, the radiators clog up and they start overheating. Then they start overheating when pulling their loads through the mountains and they have problems with their valves sticking from the heat. Those semi-trucks just keep going until they break. Then the driver fixes it. There is no such thing as calling the wrecker or tire guy to fix your truck or trailer. Hopefully he can limp the truck in where he can work on it and get the parts he needs, or he fixes it on the spot. I have followed some of these semi-trucks on some truly horrible roads. Did any of you reading this blog see the top of an enclosed semi-trailer rocking back and forth two feet/over ½ a meter? If I would have seen that in the U.S.A. I would have pooped in my pants. Anyway, I tore down my tent, loaded my bike, and started my long day's ride. About 20 minutes down the road I oiled my chain. Lot of good that did because 30 minutes later I was driving dirt and gravel roads. I filled up with gas at the first opportunity. You never know where the next gas station will be. All was going well and I was getting hungry. I stopped in a roadside restaurant and whipped out my breakfast menu and ordered. The lady looked at it as I pointed to everything I wanted. She nodded her head yes or no if she had the item I wanted, wrote up my order and was off to the kitchen to prepare. I had my food in ten minutes. Nothing makes a day better than when you have food in your stomach. I continued driving on the gravel and finally decided 35/40 mph/56/64 kph was too fast if I wanted my saddle bags to still be attached to the motorcycle at the end of the day. I started to drive 20/25 mph/30/40 kph and things got more manageable. I was driving deep potholes, loose gravel and gravel the size of golf ball to baseball-size rock. Oh it was a lot of fun. This went on for a couple of hours and you’d pop back on blacktop as nice as you can drive in the U.S. I stopped again for gas and filled up. I met a Russian guy who asked me if I was going to Moscow or where was my destination. I told him I was going to Vladivostock. He said you don’t want to do that. He said there’s no gas for 450 miles/700 kilometers. He told me where I could find gas but I didn’t understand him. He said diesel fuel is available but not gasoline. He promptly went to his vehicle and pulled out four four-litre plastic jugs and gave me three of them. I could have had four if I’d asked. I thanked him and tied them to my bike empty, got back on to highway and continued driving gravel. I filled up again and filled each jug with one litre of gas. I was back on the road riding along at my preferred speed and needed to gas up. A gas station sign appeared from out of nowhere and I said to myself, what luck. I pull up to the pump and it says no 92 octane gas. They have diesel fuel. Just then I realized what the guy had told me. They have gas stations all along the road but they are out of 92 octane gasoline. I said to myself how can this be? I asked the gas station attendant where I could buy gas and she told me to drive back 120 miles/180 kms to get gas. I told her I was out of gas and couldn’t do that. I needed gas now. How was I going to backtrack 120 miles/180 kms and get gas? I decided to drive another 36 miles/60 kilometers up the road to another city and hope it had gas. If they are out of 92 octane gas I will be so deep in trouble I’m not sure what I will do. I ran into rain before getting there so quickly found a camping spot and set up my tent. It’s kind of an undeveloped wayside. I’m out of sight of the highway so it a pretty good site. I put my tent on gravel. Thank God I have my air mattress to sleep on or I would have been sleeping on rocks and gravel. It’s time for bed and I’m hoping and praying I can find gas tomorrow.

16 July 2009 East of Chita, Eastern Russia

I got up, packed up, and was on the road at 10:00 a.m. I was watching the roads today looking for more open holes like I dropped into yesterday. Good thing; there were more of them. They varied from 2-4 inches/5-10cm deep. Bridges are suspect for having the blacktop dug out right next to the concrete the full width of the bridge. No signs announce the road hazard, just a 4-6 inch/10-15 cm deep trench. I definitely must be more alert for those road hazards. I’ve been driving by a lot of picture opportunities and saying to myself I should have taken a picture of that. Now I’m doing it. I’m taking pictures of graves, signs, and anything else that looks interesting. As I was driving along I saw a river with easy access so pulled in there and washed my helmet visor, headlight, taillight, and signal lights. I also flushed dust out of the radiator after driving on gravel roads. Those gravel trucks just cover you with dust and fill the radiator with it. I met Yura at lunch. Actually I was ordering with my sheet of paper I made up some time ago and whenever the waitress would not understand my request he would interpret for me. He was interested in my motorcycle so I shared all the information about my trip. When I told him I was going to Valdivostock he told me how to get around Chita on the city bypass and get on M55 to Khabarovsk. I thanked him for that kind gesture and gave him one of blog cards. With Yura’s directions it was very easy to bypass Chita and get on M55 to Khabarovsk. I’m about 50 miles /80 Kms east of Chita, bush camping. I found an excellent spot totally out of sight. After I got my tent set up I tightened the spokes in the area where the rims are bent. They weren’t really loose but they were not as tight as the rest of the spokes. I also checked the air pressure in the tires. The front tire was ok but the rear tire was about 5 lbs low on air. I got out my trusty million-dollar air compressor and inflated the tires. Just as I started my compressor, a diesel truck with a stuck lifter stopped on top the hill where I was camping. My air compressor is pretty noisy so I shut it off. I didn’t want to be discovered by the truck drivers. I thought for sure the truck was staying the night. After about 15 minutes, the stuck valve worked itself loose and the engine started sounding like a diesel engine and it wasn’t long before the truck pulled out. I imagine the engine was overheating because of all the hills it had to climb. After that I worked on my blog and went to bed.

15 July 2009 West of Chita, Eastern Russia

I woke up early about 5:00 a.m. and then went back to sleep. If I would have loaded my bike and eaten breakfast at 8:00 a.m. I would now be sleeping in a bed in Chita. I loaded my bike and left Ulan-Ude by 10:00 a.m. Matilda guided me out of town though it seemed like it was the scenic route. I made a wrong turn which cost me 30 minutes before I got straightened out and heading the right direction. I will be driving M55 to Chita, in Siberia in Eastern Russia. I made pretty good time and the road wasn’t that bad. I stopped and took some pictures because I’m starting to get the feeling the end of the road is near. It rained three times today and I fortunately only had to drive on the wet pavement. Thankfully I never got caught in the rain itself. I turned my 2007 Kawasaki KLR 650 over 10,000 miles today. It was a milestone in its life and I took a picture of it. I was driving down the road at 55/60 mph/80/90 Kph and I saw these three guys setting on the shoulder of the road. I looked at them and one guy was looking back, but not necessarily at me. I turned and looked straight forward again and right in front of me was a freshly dug hole 6 inches deep x 2 feet wide x 3 feet long/15/20 cm deep x 27 cm wide x 1 meter long. I drove right into it. I didn’t even have enough time to get the major swear word out or avoid it. I thought I was going to get thrown off but didn’t. The suspension took it all in stride, at least that what I’m thinking now. I stopped down the road for gas and looked at the wheels. Sure enough both front and rear rims were bent. Later I noticed the reflector I put on my license plate bracket was gone. I about went straight through the roof. I wanted to kick those dudes butts to hell and back. Absolutely no sign indicating a hole was dug there, or a “men working” sign or a sign to drive around this obstacle. Nothing, and I drove right through it. I haven’t felt any vibration or shimming in the front end. I am so ticked. I can only imagine what would have happened if the front wheel had hit the bottom of the hole. I’m betting the motorcycle would have been a total wreck, with a bent fork, bent front wheel, bent frame, then the long slide on a saddle bag and possibly one or two flips thrown in for good measure. Even as I type this I’m still steaming. The concern is this: I’m about to enter the most challenging part of my motorcycle ride; the bad road. I still have to ride about 2500 miles. Of that, 40 to 400 miles /64 to 645 kilometers can be gravel or broken pavement with huge potholes. I didn’t want to start off with a handicapped bike and now I have one. Will my bent rims cause unusual tire wear? Will my spokes work loose? Those are some of the things going through my mind right now. I continued riding until I saw a rain storm in front of me. I found a road into the woods that looked more secure than my last campsite and set up my tent. It’s very near the road but absolutely out of sight. I stopped in a grocery store today and bought myself a loaf of bread with some cheese and, of course, my Snickers bars. That will be my lunch and supper. It may last long enough for breakfast too. We’ll see. I finished up eating and it started raining. Lots of thunder and lightning. I think tomorrow will be a nice day. I’m still trying to decide whether I should ride thru Chita tomorrow and skip staying there. I really should get my passport registered there. I also need to be riding 250 to 300 miles a day from now on. I would like to be in Vladivostok by 1 August 2009 if possible. I’m worried about the ferry schedule to South Korea. I heard it is running once a week and I must have my motorcycle out of Russia by 14 August 2009. It’s time for bed.

14 July 2009 Ulan-Ude, Eastern Russia

I got up at 8:00 a.m. and went downstairs to check if I could send my blog updates to Mary. No luck. Bummer! What am I going to do? I went to breakfast. I was about 20 minutes late. Breakfast was with everybody at 9:30 a.m. I ordered breakfast and everyone was kind of in a somber mood. Not much conversation. They all knew they had to get going and face the day. Plus I imagine the effects of drinking a wee bit too much always puts and edge on the day. Breakfast was over and everyone went and got their gear out of their rooms and started to load their motorcycles. I asked Voelker to look at my e-mail account and see if he could figure out why I can’t open or send any e-mails. He tried several things including loading Mozilla Fire Fox and nothing worked. The last thing he tried was using the basic version on the bottom of AOL page. Eureka, it worked! I could open, write and send e-mails again. That was a huge relief. I need to be communicating with my travel agent about shipping my motorcycle back to the U.S.A. and not being able to communicate with her would be a huge problem. I walked out the front doors of the hotel and watched everybody load their motorcycles. The hotel staff wanted to take pictures of the motorcycles. I took pictures of everybody with their cameras and then had my picture taken with the lot. Otto, Ulle and Martina were riding to Lake Baikal, then to Moscow where they would split up. Ulle and Martina would go back to Germany and Otto would go to the North Cape in Norway. Marko was heading to Vladivostock , South Korea, U.S.A. and Ireland. Voelker was going to Ulan Baatar, Mongolia, Kazakhstan and back to Germany. I was staying one more day to work on my blogs and e-mails and then Wednesday depart for Chita and Vladivostock, South Korea and the U.S.A. We all said our goodbyes and then everybody mounted their trusty steeds and blew out of town. I went back in the hotel and worked on my blog. I eventually got all my e-mails sent and updated my blog up to the present date. I planned my route out of town, went on the internet and found hotels in the upcoming cities and brought Matilda up to speed. I also went downstairs and checked to see if Mary got my e-mails. She did which was a huge relief. That means my e-mail is working. I eventually got to bed around midnight. Something else I found out about everybody is when you find good company and the security of a group it is very difficult to leave the group and go back into the unknown again. No one seemed to be in a real big hurry leave town even though they knew it was time to go. I’ve known this about myself and probably have said it about myself. You’ve got to get up and take on another day and fight another battle. Usually there’s no right or wrong way as long as you come through day without any permanent scars or injuries.