Welcome to the scenic highways of Kazakhstan
Day 106 - Astrakhan, Russia to Atyrau, Kazakhstan - 7 hours, 230 miles. We didn't quite realize the extensiveness of the bug barrage until we inspected the bikes in the daylight. This is no joke...anything facing forward was covered in a thick layer of bodyparts and juices. Luckily, the hotel also had two carwash stalls connected to the property. Locals have to work to keep vehicles clean. Kenny quickly washed his entire bike. I was mainly just concerned with the cooling system, as the air scoops channeled so much air into the radiators that they aluminum grates were absolutely caked with bug corpses. Taking great care to not damage any exposed parts, I gave each radiator grill a quick spray to force the bugs out so air could pass through.
The hosts, much like the night prior, were incredibly gracious for our visit and treated us very hospitably. I was a bit sad to be leaving Russia this morning. Despite the consistent dispassionate exterior, locals had been incredibly warm and interested in us.
An hour's ride to the border, and the crossing was a breeze. No issues leaving Russia. Only took about 10 minutes. Of course, they wanted to see our faces, but I kept my goggles on to protect my eyes and refused to open my mouth to avoid an unwanted protein snack. Entering Kaz was equally simple. Just a little inspection, about three lines of information for customs to record the bike's entry, and we were through. Of course, the "Tey-has" license plate gets more and more attention the further east we go.
Kenny, Green, and I passed through some gorgeous farmland mixed with seemingly never ending shallow lakes and marshes. In the distance, packs of horses appeared to walk across the water.
The roads soon deteriorated to a very rough, pot-hole ridden path, but we could keep pace. The scenery and absence of bugs lifted our spirits, but after four hours of being pounded laterally by the Kazakhstan desert blow dryer while dodging potholes, we were mentally and physically done for the day.
Rolling into Atyrau, the largest town in the southwest Kaz, a police car spun around and pulled us over. It was the first time I'd been pulled over since leaving the US four months ago. Amazing, especially considering all the horror stories I'd heard of crooked cops along the way. Two younger officers approached us, asked where we are going, and commented on our bikes in mesh of Kazakh and broken english.
It was a friendly exchange, until they finally pointed at my speedometer. "Here, too fast! You go too fast!"
Knew this was coming. "No, I wasn't"
"Yes, too fast. Pay fine."
"Prove that I was speeding."
He looked at me not expecting resistance, shrugged his shoulders, and motioned for his partner to follow him back to the car. They spun out in the gravel as they whipped the car around and in search of another victim. I expect this to be a daily occurance.
