I got up at 6:30 in the morning and did an early promenade around the campsite. ‘Bobby’ gets up when I’m finishing packing things on the bike and invites me to have breakfast with him. I end up leaving at 10:00 in the morning. Today’s destination is Baishint, just ninety kilometers from Üüreg Late.
I have two options from the campsite: riding along the lake shore doing the legs of the triangle, or directly along the hypotenuse. After ‘Bobby’s’ advice, I went along the diagonal. It turned out to have a lot of loose stone and, in some cases, just stones covering the ground.
From afar, along the shore seems much better.
After about twenty kilometers, I reach the mountains. The path is unused and sometimes covered in sand. Road saws have already formed on a large part of it but I have no other alternative. I am driving through a gorge. After another thirty kilometers, I finally get out of there and back to the valley. Unfortunately, I see that the condition of the road is getting worse because not only the ‘road’ has saws, but the stone too. Furthermore, on several occasions, it is the mountain itself that emerges.
In the distance, I can see a small hill hiding today’s destination and, above it, a black cloud that crowns the area. Of all the options, I choose the one I think is best. They all seem to go to the same place.
Before I realize it, I have deviated enormously towards the north.
Later, considering what happened next, it would have been the best option. I stopped dead and began to cross the field crosswise. I rode between stones crossing other paths, but it never turned out to be the one I had to follow. Where does so much stone come from and why is it so scattered?
The clouds keep moving and occasionally find me. I end up reaching the road my GPS indicates me, while I continue rolling on rocks and under the rain. When I got to the town I made the same mistake again: taking the longest path. From afar, I saw the big stone gates they usually use to announce provinces and cities. I thought that was the way to go.
I ended up riding over reddish dirt around the mountain.
When I reached my destination, I saw it didn’t exist anymore. I asked the locals I met on the street and they couldn’t give me indications. After thirty minutes, and despite being tired from the journey already made, I decided to continue to the next town. Maybe I’ll have better luck there.
Unfortunately, the thirty-five kilometers between the two towns became the longest of the journey. Firstly, because the phone was running out of battery and I couldn’t use it as a reference. Therefore, I ended up crossing the river several times and, surely, not in the best places. As I headed north to return to the route I missed it. I had to turn around after two kilometers and get back to the road.
After a while, I realized that it wasn’t the one I should be following.
I looked around and, even though the terrain was full of bushes, I decided to cross it. It was extremely dangerous to do so, both for me and for the motorcycle, because the bushes formed potholes in the ground which made driving very difficult. The bike bounces too much and could lose control at any moment. Right in the middle, so I could avoid a depression in the terrain, I changed direction without realizing that I had a huge bush underneath. The motorcycle stayed in suspense with the drive wheel in the air. I tried to look for stones but now they seem to have disappeared.
I see cars go by and I wave at them until I get one to stop. A person gets out and approaches me while I’m removing the luggage. Just the two of us aren’t enough to move the motorcycle out. A second person gets out of the car and together, me on the motorcycle and them pushing, we get out of the mess in a few minutes.
I still have fifteen kilometers left and it’s already later than 4:30 p.m.
Nogoonnuur seems to be my obligated stop on the road. I don’t think I can go much longer before it gets dark. As I approach the town, a local couple on a motorcycle intercepts me. I asked them if there was a hostel in town and they answered yes. While driving, I got the impression they were telling me to follow them. So I did.
We end up at the doors of their house. Since that was not what they wanted to tell me, I asked them again about the hostel. The man offered to accompany me there. After crossing the town I found out the only hostel was closed. The man approaches the small gas station next door to ask for information. The person who appears to be the owner of the gas station offers his house.
He also asked me on several occasions how much I was willing to pay him.
I offered him 50.000 Tugriks since that is the cost of sleeping in a shared room or even a hotel. The man locks the gas station and takes me to his house. We store the luggage and the motorcycle inside a shed he has on his property. His wife invites me to the table and prepares a large assortment of snacks. While at it, the man tells me that the price will be 100.000 Tugriks.
Since I already have everything off the bike and it’s almost nighttime, I don’t argue with him. Around 8:00 p.m. the couple leaves for a wedding celebration, leaving me alone with their son. We set up a lamp in the new house they are building, play chess, and have dinner before going to sleep at 9:30 p.m.
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