Geoff was totally unaware of last nights frivolities with the bear. I needed some sleep almost as much as I needed breakfast. A few miles further along, our bad Russian caused the usual amusement for the cafe staff. We almost got what we ordered but they gave us a 'Russian Breakfast' sausage egg, and some fresh sweet pancakes at no extra charge. Very nice! As we were leaving a stranger approached and insisted we accept a gift of two pasta dinners and a tin of minced beef. All he wanted in return was a photo of the bikes. Everyday the Russian people amaze me with their open hearts. If only their roads were as nice!
Charlie from Australia stopped for a chat. All the bikers we meet seem to be going in the opposite direction....
He is on his way to London from Japan and told us the road is pretty bad from here on, maybe a full day of this crap, but gets worse for 100km or so, very bad unavoidable potholes, then sand. Ok, that Will be fun....
A large open area of gravel alongside a huge sign of the Amur Highway seemed a good place to camp but still no luck. A small chapel about 30 square feet was guarded by a stray dog. I had nothing for him but he let me inside anyway. I got down on my knees and thanked the Lord for getting us this far without crashing, or the bikes breaking. I prayed we would make it safely to the end of this highway and onto Vladivostok.
We pushed on, feeling very tired. This road really gives the bikes and your body a beating. A small side turning offered just enough cover not to be seen from the road. Perfect. As I fetched firewood I heard a car stop, then drive off. I saw a man in army camouflage picking through rubbish with his stick. We approached him, hand outstretched in friendship. He dropped his backpack and walked towards us. He said his ear is bad without a cigarette. Geoff obliged and once he saw we were not a threat, introduced himself as Alexander. Apparently there are bandits on this road...
He was born a Russian but since has been given a Khazakstan passport. In order for him to buy land in Russia he needs a Russian passport, even though he is Russian. The only way was for him to reach St. Petersburg, where he could get one, buy land and build a house with a vegetable garden. He is 60 years old an walking the width of Russia. He entertained us with travel stories, including one where he carried his bike 1500km before this road was built, and on one small part where he could actually ride it through some trees, went straight in between two brown bears. One of them he named the karate bear as it chased him knocking the trees down! His advice for us was to hang our socks near the tent so a bear will know it's not his territory. If we meet a Siberian Tiger we must wait until it moves before we can, unless it's already behind you. Top tips from a top bloke.
I asked him to stay with us but he wanted to reach the small chapel further along to sleep there. He remembers when it was the original border crossing.
Next day the road wasn't too bad, averaging 40-50mph. The oncoming convoys of Japanese cars who often take the best track along this road, were more dangerous than the surface. It was pure guesswork as to what side of you they would pass.
17 Korean Harley Davidsons appeared through the dust, they were going to Hamburg. Amazing guys riding totally inappropriate bikes for this road and I was worried about our Triumphs! I've never had so many photos taken of me!
Later we met Yoshi, a Japanese guy also on his way to Germany on an Africa twin, had ridden two days in the rain. His wide eyed gesticulating description of the oncoming potholes didn't fill me with confidence, but at least the sandy parts would be wet and not dusty. Everyday was bringing us closer to tarmac.....
Charlie from Australia stopped for a chat. All the bikers we meet seem to be going in the opposite direction....
He is on his way to London from Japan and told us the road is pretty bad from here on, maybe a full day of this crap, but gets worse for 100km or so, very bad unavoidable potholes, then sand. Ok, that Will be fun....
A large open area of gravel alongside a huge sign of the Amur Highway seemed a good place to camp but still no luck. A small chapel about 30 square feet was guarded by a stray dog. I had nothing for him but he let me inside anyway. I got down on my knees and thanked the Lord for getting us this far without crashing, or the bikes breaking. I prayed we would make it safely to the end of this highway and onto Vladivostok.
We pushed on, feeling very tired. This road really gives the bikes and your body a beating. A small side turning offered just enough cover not to be seen from the road. Perfect. As I fetched firewood I heard a car stop, then drive off. I saw a man in army camouflage picking through rubbish with his stick. We approached him, hand outstretched in friendship. He dropped his backpack and walked towards us. He said his ear is bad without a cigarette. Geoff obliged and once he saw we were not a threat, introduced himself as Alexander. Apparently there are bandits on this road...
He was born a Russian but since has been given a Khazakstan passport. In order for him to buy land in Russia he needs a Russian passport, even though he is Russian. The only way was for him to reach St. Petersburg, where he could get one, buy land and build a house with a vegetable garden. He is 60 years old an walking the width of Russia. He entertained us with travel stories, including one where he carried his bike 1500km before this road was built, and on one small part where he could actually ride it through some trees, went straight in between two brown bears. One of them he named the karate bear as it chased him knocking the trees down! His advice for us was to hang our socks near the tent so a bear will know it's not his territory. If we meet a Siberian Tiger we must wait until it moves before we can, unless it's already behind you. Top tips from a top bloke.
I asked him to stay with us but he wanted to reach the small chapel further along to sleep there. He remembers when it was the original border crossing.
Next day the road wasn't too bad, averaging 40-50mph. The oncoming convoys of Japanese cars who often take the best track along this road, were more dangerous than the surface. It was pure guesswork as to what side of you they would pass.
17 Korean Harley Davidsons appeared through the dust, they were going to Hamburg. Amazing guys riding totally inappropriate bikes for this road and I was worried about our Triumphs! I've never had so many photos taken of me!
Later we met Yoshi, a Japanese guy also on his way to Germany on an Africa twin, had ridden two days in the rain. His wide eyed gesticulating description of the oncoming potholes didn't fill me with confidence, but at least the sandy parts would be wet and not dusty. Everyday was bringing us closer to tarmac.....
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