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I took a day off in Teotsengel but it was not a day well spent. I did find an internet cafe but the connection was baikh gui. For those experienced in Latin American travel baikh gui is the equivalent of no hay and heard all too often here. Attempts to wash clothes were thwarted by the lack of running water. Then at lunch a local cop decided to give me the shakedown. I felt like was in a time warp, back to the 80s. In the end he confiscated my passport, promising to return it in a few hours. He didn't. When I tracked him down at the police station he said margaash(tomorrow). A return of my stomach woes capped the day. The next day I found the cop in his office. I knew I was in trouble when I say the Lenin figurine on his bookshelf. A stand-off ensued--I refused to leave until he returned my passport. I've been in these situations before and know that perseverance is key. The official may not mind wasting his working hours staring down a tourist but eventually he/she wants to take a lunch break or go home for the day. By the afternoon he finally wore down and returned my passport, for a fee. Why? I still have no idea.
I exited town as quickly possible. I tried to do so without bad feelings towards the town. Apart from the cop everyone had been quite friendly and helpful. At the top of a pass outside town I encountered some Mongolian tourists stopped for a picnic. They waived me over with an offering of beer. I hadn't eaten any solid food for 24 hours so I figured a beer might actually give me a bit of energy. The foursome was from UB and headed to some distant destination in the West. They offered to take me along. It was a tempting offer. They were fully supplied with provisions from UB and what appeared to be an endless supply of beer. In the end I declined their offer and set off down the other side on my track of the day. They soon departed on theirs. We waived across the void.
It seemed that as I went further West people became friendlier and friendlier. By that time nearly every traveler I met on the road stopped to chat with me. But therein lays the beauty of bad roads. Nobody is in a hurry on these roads because the conditions simply do not allow a hurried pace. They also serve to level the playing field. Even with a sturdy vehicle an excursion into these parts is a not without risks. A breakdown could mean not just a loss of hours but a loss of days. It was with some reluctance then that I ended my westerly bearing and turned to the north-east. The next stretch was a lonely stretch of road . Over the next few days I only saw a handful of vehicles.
Just after what appeared to be the remnants of the village of Sogoot I stopped for a lunch break. Soon I saw a young woman running down from the only occupied building, beverage in hand. She offered me the beverage and began asking some questions in English. She was so excited to have someone with whom to practice her English. Given her locale I could understand her excitement. There was an invitation to visit her house. I was noncommittal. I was tired. She walked off despondently. After finishing my lunch I decided to redeem myself and pay her a visit. She proudly showed me her diploma in tourism management from a school in UB. She also showed me her materials for learning English--a Mongolian text and a threadbare "how I got rich" book by Hilton (of hotel fame). I admired her determination but wondered how these skills would benefit her in her small village. I asked her how often she had the opportunity to practice her English with passers-by on the road. Her reply: never.
After Sogoot I entered a broad valley. I returned to greener landscapes, though I did see my first herd of camels. Eventually I dropped into the Delger valley and began my Easterly bearing. The road often climbed up and down, in and out, of the valley, keeping my legs happy. I'd hit a mild weather system which meant warmer temperatures but also hazy skies. In Moron I was finally able to find some reliable internet access, as well as washing facilities. During my day off some rain fell, clearing the skies and setting me up for a nice side trip to Mongolia's top scenic attraction, Khovsgol Lake.
The first day of riding was indeed pleasant. However, the crazy winds came that night, shaking my tent through the night and leaving me very unrested in the morning. The icy winds meant a return to multiple layers. I arrived in Khatgal, the gateway community to the lake, in early afternoon. The town was busy preparing for the season, erecting new structures and cleaning up rubbish. On my out of town, playing the usual guessing game as to which track is the one that will take me to my destination, I saw a camper truck leaving town back along the main road. I had met the occupants, a French group, earlier in the day. Given their hasty retreat I could only guess they had something one best not have in Mongolia: expectations. "Don't have expectations" is something you see on guesthouse walls, alongside other suggestions like "Keep an open mind" and "Take care of your valuables." In this case the French were probably expecting the pretty blue lake one sees in tourist brochures and guidebooks. Instead, they found a big slab of ice.
The lakeside north of Khatgal is too steep to support a road so a "road" follows an adjacent valley before ascending a pass and dropping down to the lake. I took this road but my patience, worn thin by lack of sleep, did not last for the road's duration. Instead, I spotted a low saddle and decided to cross over the lake and take my chances with the lakeside. It was a good choice. I soon encountered a lakeside horse/hiking trail. Just to the North of my junction I encountered a perfect camp site, just enough cleared/level ground for my tent and just high enough above the lake to minimize the refrigeration effect. The following day I followed the trail to the headlands where it re-joined the main road. Here I could appreciate the size of the lake as I saw it stretch almost to the Russian frontier. I rode from some time before I tired of the icy winds along the lakeshore. I retreated to the warm confines of the pine forest to set up camp. The lake may not have overwhelmed me with its scenery but the camping was superb. In the end I spent a few leisurely days before returning south.
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| Distance | Elevation Gain | Flat Tires |
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| Leg | 259 mi/416 km | 14220 ft/4665 m | |
| Trip | 800 mi/1287 km | 7 mi/12 km | |
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