Russian into Mongolia
Kosh-Agach, Russia to Olgii, Mongolia - 2.5 hours, 110 miles.
It's not supposed to be that hard to leave a country...but Russia had a different plan. Over 90 minutes waiting to get through two customs stations, and nearly 30 minutes standing before the passport control officer. And then a very thorough inspection of luggage. Crossing into Kaz had taken five minutes a few weeks before, even though it felt like eternity with the swarms of bugs in my face. The inspector, Antony, spoke great English, wrapped things up by almost handing me my passport and paperwork, just as he said, "Would you mind coming upstairs and talking to my boss for a little bit? We'd like to get to know you a bit more, and learn about your trip." Oh, crap. So close to escaping Russia. This wasn't as much a request as a requirement. After 90 minutes, they knew everything about me...how many tanks I commanded in the Army, all levels of education, what my parents do for a living, who I spoke to in Turkey, if I've ever been in trouble with the law in an Islamic country. "The boss man" was quite dry, but I still managed to make him laugh. They asked me to list all the countries I've visited in order on the trip, then retracted the question by the time I got to Bulgaria. Finally, they were satisfied. On the way out, Antony let me take a turn at their pistol training simulator that had been set up next to the boss' office for the day. "I bet you're the best shot here, Captain America." I proved him wrong...hands weren't anywhere close to steady after that grilling...or after the night hanging out w/ the Kazakhstani dirt bikers. No man's land was quite vast at this crossing--probably 25km from check points, and littered with decayed cow skeletons and huge, bottomless potholes.
There's a manned gate at the actual border. Just two Russian guys hang out there. The first one greeted me with a smile, walked around the back of the bike, and shouted "Tey-has!" A roaring belly-laugh seemed to shake the guard shack, where another Russian sat in the dark and enjoyed the thought of a crazy American wandering too far from home on his own motorbike. The first guy just shook his head and opened the gate. The laughs continued as I fired up Green and continued on.
Mongolia let me in after just 30 minutes of formalities. No inspection. No fees. No anything. I met a guy, Desjan, while waiting in line who runs a tourism agency, and he directed me to his sister's guesthouse for the night in Olgii. Great luck to have a contact, as he'd be helpful later. Needless to say, the landscape is as expected. Vast, open, deserted land. Rough, washboard gravel roads have multiple handrails of softer sand and dirt tracks where locals have blazed their own paths to avoid the jarring vibrations. The round, White nomadic homes (gers), are sprinkled more sparsely than expected, roughly every 4-5km. Kiddos come sprinting to the road when they see a big motorbike, and they appreciate the stash of candy I keep in the tank bag.
Asphalt roads are nothing short of marvelous. Pavement is a new concept in Mongolia, so when there's tarmac, it's absolutely lovely quality. Green and I sprinted to Olgii. I grabbed a very satisfying Kazakh-style meal for $2 and stocked up on food and water for the next day. Desjan's sister had a ger camp right in the middle of Olgii. I figured this is a cool tourism novelty stay...not realizing how many other times this would happen.
