Mongolia X Journal 16 // Outer Mongolia by Mountain Bike (Short films) // Microadventures with Brian Peric

Mongolia X2012 // Mountain biking in the land of Genghis Khan // A short bicycle film from Brian Perich 

Outer Mongolia - by Mountain Bike // Mongolia X Project 2012 HD from Brian Perich on Vimeo.

Mongolia X Journal 15 // Mongolian Healing // Hail & rain lead me to a Shamanistic Healing // Where Roads have no names //

Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.
~ Helen Keller

Skirting the deserts, the arid Steppe grasslands run for thousands of kilometers in all directions. I am riding into the heartlands of Genghis Khan and his people. There are millions of animals, many more than people here, perhaps 10 fold. There are no trees but these desolate mountainous plateau landscapes snaked with rivers and streams are far from lifeless, there is a life blood here that cannot be beaten down or destroyed by mother nature - these flocks of animals and their keepers seem to live on, despite of their hardships on the land. I have encountered Mongolian Nomads on horses and motorcycles, the husband and wife often carry a child or even a newborn baby wrapped in blankets between them on 150cc motorcycles imported from China. When the Nomads ride their horses, their women are unaccompanied in the Gers while their men do the work of moving the herds of goat, sheep, horses, yak or camels - the women do the child care at home and also work round the clock milking, churning the cream and making their "arroz" cheese or rolling flower that they traded for into dough while preparing noodles. The meal we shared included some bits of meat and fat from one of their animals, but I never saw a single slaughter or remains nearby. The meat was dried in the sun, tied to a wall in a building, I saw hinds and legs of sheep skinned inside a roadside restaurant (and later in western Mongolia, the Kazakh's places the meat on the wall, and they gutted their sheep on wooden tables outside stone, mud insulated and wooden houses inside Bayan-Olgii Province).

Food is provided by their animals in the form of dairy (milk, yogurt, cream, cheese, meat, fat, butter), there will be a trace supply of onion or potato traded for and brought to the Gers, along with satellite television that favored Mongolian and Russian sports (the summer Olympics of 2012 in London) or South Korean dramas dubbed in Mongolian and of course Korean K-Pop followed by Mongolian Rap music. There was a fusion of media culture brought into the Ger tent through satellite dish, solar panels and battery storage, but their food remained local and created through their own hands and care of their animals. The people, the animals and the land they live upon here, and the impending pressure of nature is all around them and these Elements as all so close to one another. Mongolians care for each other, welcoming their own Nomadic travelers and exchanging gifts, and they care deeply for their cultural way of life - the Ger as home, the 1.5 million square kilometers of open land where there is only national ownership in the sense that this is Outer Mongolian free range for their animals and citizens to live.

The rest of the country is composed of permanent settlements, towns, villages and larger cities and all of this fitting into 21 "aimags" or provinces with unique topographic and climatic changes to each one, mainly the Siberian northern borders filled with fresh water lakes and tributaries, the Steppe grasslands across the belt or girth of the entire country until the very western frontiers where Kazakh Mongolians have settled and called it home, the cuisine changes as does the cultures, but the fabric is still connected - Mongolian.

Today, I have cycled through valleys stretching 30-40 kilometers in length and 40-50 kilometers in width to the continuous belts of mountain ranges always seen in the distance. There is high visibility and other times intense sunlight beyond the cloud banks tumbling above me. As there is virtually no local air pollution out here and I sense coming from prevailing northwesterly winds. All this has a huge advantage, even a headwind is welcome from the Northwest, the Siberian winds keep me cool while mountain biking and although I am soaked to the bones in sweat traversing it all, I stand again today nearby an Ovoo, marveling at mother nature and the cultures beneath her amazing work - Earth and Cultures.

These big winds continuously turn over the land with varying velocities. As pillowed clouds roll in where you can only see the surface beneath them, and sometimes today they continued to move out of the scenery. The landscape is desolate and colored in faded evergreen, grass and sand colored soil paints the portrait that I am riding through. There is an occasional skull of a sheep, yak, goat, all animal skeletons bleached white from the UV light. I only found one half decomposed horse so far, it died and slowly the body of this departed creature was taken away by insects and predator birds flying overhead while I stopped to observe in silence. I wouldn't die, so they left me alone throughout my journey. The flies of course were the exception, they always stayed with me - how could I feel bored when I cycled to stay ahead of the swam of flies, or needed more water - two preoccupations that became rituals in self-motivation and patience.

Storms brewed and the sky ahead fell dark, turbulent and thunder cracked after a flicker of lightning touched down to my northwest. I continued the route, this was calculated by a thin yellow line on my GPS, following the northern route. Rain fell lightly and the winds howled in my face, I pressed harder into my pedals and increased my cadence. The ritual of cycling is rhythmic, repeated and like a well-tuned engine - one that keeps on when the weather gets rough. Further over the brief mountain pass, I see thunderclouds gathering and the density makes them dark grey against the swirling cloud sky. The rain begins to fall harder and faster, I cannot beat this weather moving on the bicycle, I will run straight into it. A band of horses run wild across the field next to me, six of them running in unison with a single purpose. The dirt tracks turn to mud and puddles form instantly as the pitter-patter of rain continues to dance on my shoulders. I take out the Goretex shell but there isn't time to put an insulating layer above my short-sleeved cycling jersey.

I ride further and pass a Herder on his motorcycle tearing the Earth between chunky tread tires heading in the opposite direction of the storm, he smiles to me through his big black Blues Brother glasses. I ride the rim around holes in the dirt road now filled with water, pitter-patter rain keeps coming until the decibals become so much louder like the roar of an engine, God is punishing me for traveling in his land - no man's land. Then these heavy drops of water turn to ice and start to bounce off the road, and I see three Ger tents to my left, swerving the road's holes and with a small leap, I bridge the edge of the dirt track into the green fields and continue to ride toward the Gers some 200 meters ahead. Rain and hail, wearing nylon shorts, a cycle jersey and a bare Goretex shell provide almost 0 protection, the temperature has dropped, it's cold and I ride up past the roaming goats who get caught in the elements happening around me. Inside the Ger, I peep in and see about 12 Mongolian Herders gathered and then greet them. They invite me inside and there is no room, so I stand and explain my name, my nationality and they know how I am traveling as a few step outside into the holy hail and rain to see my mountain bike.

I am cold right now, but the rain stops finally and we step outside, I ask permission to camp nearby and need my tent (my Ger) to replace my soaked clothing - I feel a chill go through my body and I am fidgeting around awaiting their reply. When "Yes" in granted in Mongolian, I strip the equipment from the mountain bike and setup the tent. Before I have a chance to cover the tent net, the heavens open and soak myself, the tent and there is nothing else, only the ground beneath the tent doesn't get a resupply of rains cleansing, so I pitch the rain cover over and stake the corners while the rain just comes down like cats and dogs, no mercy for me. I nod to the Mongolian Herders who returned to their tent after throwing me the rain cover from beside my packs, and I drag myself inside - inflating my Thermarest Pro Lite mattress to insulate myself from the wet interior and there I strip down to the buck and apply the 'baby wet wipes" for another moisture shower. Afterwards, I have 1 pair of nylon hiking pants (blue) and another cycling liner shorts for underwear, I rotate the clothing I wear and wash them in streams every few days, I also put on a dry Brazil soccer shirt and thin fleece top and get inside the sleeping bag. All this happens on the dry area of the Thermarest mattress, while the Ortieb panniers are waterproof, I open and remove the contents I need, and close them back up folding their top lids. I sleep for a few hours and later the herds of sheep and goats return from their pastures, "baaa baaa baaa....churlch, churlch....eeee! eee!" These animals make all sorts of noises to communicate, and I wake in darkness. Finding the Cygolite 250 lumen as the torch, I light up the tent and find the water in the Ortieb ultimate control bag, I have about 5 liters stored in there, so I mix up some powered protein with water and get down to dinner!

The next morning the sun rises as it should, the dew soaks everything in sight but the interior of the Northface Tadpole2 tent was warm and comfortable, the island of Thermarest mattress kept the down sleeping bag out of the water, and I positioned the Ortieb panniers to block the puddles in case I moved during the night. Dawn came with inquisitive Herders, these Nomads that accepted me the previous stormy night - we had barely even introduced ourselves. I met a few Nomads, and was invited inside their Ger.

Inside the Ger something miraculous was happening, many more Nomads had gathered and several were holding a woman who was weeping and appeared emotionally-struck by some demon. With all hands on her and different voices carrying over her, she seemed pulled from the depths of her despair as she let out wails of agony punctuated by silence perhaps in her moments of sudden relief. It was Buddhism or perhaps Shamanism and the rituals involved many in the community standing by or being there to care for her and say supportive words, I took my place silently and sipped salted goat milk tea. There was also book-keeping being made, accounting and donations all in the hands of Shaman who attended to her and also spoke and invited me to join them there. Outside, I left my water bottles laying out on the ground around the entrance of  my tent hoping to find a source of fresh water from a stream nearby for refilling. Those bottles were taken away to a mound of donations under a tarp, it seems many had left offerings here, from solar panels to motorcycle parts, but I retrieved them and left some chocolate in their place. I believe the woman was healed that day, she mourned for something dear that had been lost or something deep that had afflicted her. With all these people in unison, it was a church, a temple, a spiritual zone and even I felt blessed - warmed by their pot stove, filled with warm goat milk and safe from the storms. Life is a cycle, we ride the highs and lows through it all and see where the road eventually leads us.

Thank you for reading my thoughts and reflections written while traveling across Mongolia on a mountain bike. I traveled for adventure and to learn more about cultures. More adventures are coming soon!!!!

Cycling in Central Asia // British Couple Expedition ends in Thailand // Dreams and risks of World Travel by Bicycle

Cycling Central Asia from twoonfourwheels.com on Vimeo.

British RTW (Round the World) couple lived a dream while cycle touring across the planet and came to a tragic accident which ended their lives doing what they loved. From Kazakhstan to Vietnam they share some incredible memories in their short film. Peter Root and Mary Thompson made world headlines when their dream bicycle expedition ended suddenly and tragically in Thailand. Their legacy and memorable experiences will remain because they did what they loved and never looked back, that is the power of bicycle touring the globe. The risks are negated and the experiences are tough, some live on and others tragically die young. May they live in dreams and stay close in eternity. Life is a series of destinations with a final end for us all. God bless their loved ones who will miss them the most, and may their rested souls find peace for eternity.

“When the sun has set, no candle can replace it.” 
― George R.R. Martin

Mongolia X Journal 14 // Determination is not destiny // You land where your path leads you // Mongolia Mountain Bike

Today, another eventful day on the expedition. I cycled 8 hours covering 75km for the day and try to take naps along the dirt track leaning on my backpack or sitting next to my mountain bike. There are no trees and no shade to be found for miles. It's ironic. Days ago (photos above), I rode from 1350 meters at the center of Ulaanbaatar in the continuous rain. My journey stopped suddenly with an accident but after replacing the rear rack that bent when I cycled through an open manhole on a busy, flooded street west of the city center. 

Before the disaster unfolded, I was here in the photos above. Nairamdal - a beautiful area just north of the capital city of Mongolia and well worth a visit for an overnight trip. Here I met friendly people, began to appreciate the green Steppe grasslands that begin all around the undeveloped hills surrounded by 1500 meter mountain peaks and followed a thin line on my loaned Garmin GPS. It might look like Scotland Highlands around here, although I can't confirm this because I would only be referencing from movies with natural scenes and landscapes like this. I'm a bit lost right now, because it's dirt track - is this what the rest of Mongolia will be like, if it is, it will be a certain challenge to cross over land like this. Following GPS is best and recommended always in Mongolia when there are so many roads alike, or no roads at all. I found it easier to navigate off the pavement than I did on it, which is a bit ironic isn't it?

Amateur today, perhaps I will still be an amateur cyclist tomorrow - but I will be the best one that I can be while doing it. It's raining lightly, I crept up the mountains at a snail's pace with a heavy loaded Lynskey mountain bike. At the moment, I can feel the cool mist against my face and it's refreshing to be here finally after a few months of preparation. I spent another 10 weeks at a fitness center in the Spring "Yellow Dust" season in Korea (nasty stuff! Living West of China isn't a dream come true for air quality, and Korean industry certainly contributes to it as well, as they rise to become a industrialized Superpower smog emitter), missing the poison again this year and prepared physically to cover all ground in Mongolia. 

What is amazing is the air quality in Mongolia - immediately noticeable improvement over South Korea once you leave the somewhat smoggy capital of Ulaanbaatar. When the air quality is this good, it reminds me of the good things about traveling "Out West" whether in North America or Asia, it seems true. 

I've learned from preparation and successfully launching my own independent expeditions using mountain bikes, that determination is not destiny, because anything can go wrong and it will - to test your wits. I have managed to minimize damage to a certain degree so far, but I with 24 hours of starting from UB, I have lost communications (iPhone dearly departed in a leaky Arteryx Goretex jacket pocket), I cycled into an open manhole on a busy roadway bending my rear rack carrier (to be replaced), and was mugged when I reach the city of Ulaanbaatar (thief only taking away from cycling gloves, but an important piece of protective equipment since there is so little while mountain bike touring). 

I have already invested myself to be here (expensive flight, Pro discount investment into a Lynskey frame, previous equipment purchased to document the journey, provide protection and reliability - is all very expensive when you add this all up). So, determination is only half the ingredient to success, it takes planning, budgeting money for many expenses, physical training, and some travel experience to do all this. Yet, I am still an amateur today, and probably the same tomorrow - but I have prepared for this moment all my life, so no matter what road I follow, what tree will fall to block my path, what equipment will fail - I will eventually find a way to make things work, I always make an effort do this in my life (even if I am only successful 1 in 10 times I try, it was probably worth the effort, right?). 

While out exploring like this, or while living in foreign countries without leave for years and years (to have the financial means to do this - Explore with a mountain bike). I planned ahead for years, bought the right equipment and had the support of my family in Korea (wife says, "okay" - that is support enough) and I saved from working for quite a few non-stop years without leaving the county (I can count year 9 in Asia starting already). That is the secret to my new freedom to ride bicycles over borders and explore. There is no hidden sponsorship, some dream manifested in companies supporting me, and when I fall and get injured in Mongolia, as I did. I was on my own or traveling with the Nomads, receiving their love and kindness, their goat, yak and horse milk, bread, butter and 'arroz' cheese in exchange for what I was carrying - Mongolian customs. I was also one of the lucky ones, middle aged and locked to family to support but still managed to go out there to explore the world. 

Some people envy what I am currently doing with expeditions - Please don't. I ride only to inspire others to try because after all, we are all amateurs living the dreams on this Earth and only God knows what is going to happen next. I ride with strength prepared ahead of time in mind, body and soul. And weather and terrain will beat me down, and life will kick me around - but I ride with more determination, perhaps it helps to reach my destiny, but the road is unknown and anything can happen. Living through it, and telling tales of the adventures is part of that journey back home. Tomorrow is another day, so work towards living the dream because most of the best dreams planning and put into reality - do not happen overnight. 

Another reminder about bicycle touring lifestyles is to remember the risks, two world cyclists riding through Thailand were killed while following their dreams on cycles, they lived the dream until the tragic end, but they lived and left some special experiences to share with others. Very memorable and it will be sad for their families and loved ones who will miss them the most.

Mongolia X Journal 13 // Where the pavement ends // Riding Northwest // Microadventure // Brian Peric Expeditions // Lynskey Performance //

I survived some very rough sections of dirt roads. Today, I will try and reflect on what is beautiful about life. Cycle touring only fills a small percentage, or two months of my years in Korea. Family is beautiful in so many of it's compositions: couples, newly weds, one child, or multi-child units. I come from a family of 5 siblings, twin elder sisters (Beth and Chris), a younger brother (Steve) and sister (Nancy). Living in my family unit growing up started my world of adventures. My parents wanted to give us the world through North American road trips. We camped most of the time with the occasional mechanical breakdown, we stayed in Super 8 Motels across the central and eastern United States. Growing up traveling in the summers and winters starting from Canada was a lucky break. Today, I sit and reflect on past travels in America while camping out beside Steppe tracks of Outer Mongolia, which is really - a long way from where I started out.

I've left the Herder hauling dirt's lot, he had a log home build from big northern Mongolian timber adding an addition to the main building, a wooden barn used for his various equipment and welding tools, and he was industrious too - a handyman, jack-of-all-trades and well known to many in his small town. We rolled through the dirt roads between tracks of tall wooden fences, everything was painted maroon as a weather-beater paint on these divisions of permanent Mongolian settlement. It was only possible to see in with an invitation to stay from a local. Since I hitch-hiked into town with the dirt load, we toured first and caught the eye of his local friends, this was great -really rolling cool into a totally different neighborhood in Central Asia with my host. I can appreciate the generosity of being offered sheep head, onions and potatoes -this was a real treat. I ate a tongue cooked tender along with muscles from all around the lower jaw, delicious.

When I left town, I found an ATM and stocked up on Mongolian Turguts and turned out onto 100km of pavement today. What I didn't see ahead of me on that smooth as the Silk Road were swarms of seething flies again. So, today was cut short, some dirt track and about 20km out on blacktop pavement and the heat attracted swarms of flies, big and small and all hungry for cruising sheep on bikes, like me! Since there were no herds in the immediate area, I was game for horse fly bites, and the gnat flies that like to drink my sweat. It's tolerable until they start doing tumbles into your face and eyes, then all hell breaks loose on the side of the road with the Tilley Endurable T3 hat which I normally wear as an all purpose sunscreen and fly hammer to swat and kill as many flies as I can. It's a little insane in the heat to have to stop the cycle and kill, but the other option is being eaten alive, I take what precautions I can without the DEET. Next time, bring mosquito repellent to Mongolia (mental note).

Finally, this early afternoon I have camped with the paved roadside still in sight. I pushed the Lynskey mountain bike up the hillside, grassland is nicely cut by roaming herds of domesticated sheep, goats, horses around here, over the hills are probably Ger camps, as Mongolians are living in many remote pockets of the rolling terrain, you might see them about anywhere here, or none at all for hours on the bike.

Camping out, relaxing, and recording. It's great to wipe away the early days sweat with wet napkins, change clothes, and snuggle into a sleeping bag on the Thermarest mattress:  this is peace - even though it's just past noon and I haven't made enough progress, I am still loaded with 5 liters of water, good for the night.

Little did I know, the Korean trio that I shared my route with (Hak Jun, June and Chris) are now competing with me now to cross Mongolia, Wow, what a wonder since they are pursuing a $9500 book writing contract while I am just riding to support educational non-profit foundations and see more of the world from a mountain bike. They are riding mountain bikes, Korean models with two Chinese carrier racks I modified custom and assembled myself - to help them do it. What's amazing - helping others and having them compete with you immediately afterwards with the route map I shared with them to assist them. Well, it is worth the experience to remember who I helped, why I helped them - and that's important to me right now.

I awoke at 1200 am and decided under moonlight with a cacophony of  flies now departed for their sleeping holes, I put the bicycle back on the road to complete the fastest stage of the entire expedition. 80km more pavement was waiting out there, swiftly I was rolling smooth, probably apart from leaving Ulaanbaatar, the only place I could roll without putting less than 1 horse of human power to get to the next destination, which is another patch of arid, sandy soil Steppe grassland to camp. There isn't 'development' out across here, but I do come across towns that punctuate long paragraphs of roaming landscapes.  I am determined to keep moving, to make more progress to get across Mongolia solo by mountain bike.

Time and pressure, is the trepidation building before taking the expedition.  I have a great deal of freedom to be in this situation, nobody leading the way except me and nobody sent me here - I roam alone supported by my wife on occasional text messages and friend support who have donated their time, interest, equipment (SFC Tim Copeland) and a donation already (Malcolm Wesley Wrest sending me off with money for the bus ride home when I return to Korea) and Don Erwin at Lynskey Performance, USA. These supports are integral to success in Mongolia. It helps if you have a team, it can have implications on how you cope, even if you cannot connect while riding through the unknown. These scattered text messages (Malcolm, James Penlington, Mi Sung) are important, I keep them on the SIM card for moral support.

I rolled for about 4 hours (80 kilometers) and this was amazingly smooth sealed blacktop heaven. At the end of the pavement the road ends, drops off into the dirt tracks which continue across Mongolia. It's crazy to be cycling in two worlds, one mostly undeveloped - just beat down dirt, rocks and Earth soil and sand and the other is one I am familiar to in North America, China or Korea - pavement made from either concrete or stone and tar sealed roadways. If you are looking for pavement, don't come to Outer Mongolia.

I camped wild eyed at a full moon washing over the rolling landscapes, I past the town in a few minutes silently, only a few dogs barked breaking total silence and no flies buzzed in my ears - heavenly. At the end of this pavement, I went to the side of the tracks and pitched the Northface tadpole 2, my home away. After a catnap for a few hours, a golden sun opened the blue horizons. I jumped up about 700 am today and look,   - there were the 3 Korean amigos! It was a surprising coincidence to meet there because they had stealth passed my tent on the side of the paved road without  'hello' while the swarms of flies had driven me into my tent. I was delighted to see them again, they looked - disappointed. I sent June back into town to collect a few liters of water from the store since they have stocked up and stayed in town themselves.

In Korea, my occupation directly involves teaching adolescents in a university - and while on adventure I try and lend a hand of support (4 hours of rack drilling/modification and assembly - done!) and of course, I worked hard to travel overland in Mongolia and saved for this - without return to Canada in over 6.5 years. Supporting my family, my students, my wife and children and then following a road to a big adventure. I will turn 40 in January 2013.  So, this journey is important as it is for others trying to realize the same dream.

Well, I spent a few minutes with the trio and learned about their battle through the flies on pavement (yes, I was there too, I know this!), but they never mentioned seeing a bright orange tent beside the road. They were preoccupied with making their own journey at the expense of their parents - for the Korean guidebook.

I left them behind for the last time today, following the GPS through the sparse grass fields and along the dirt tracks. The Koreans I met faded to grey specks and disappeared into the rough terrain behind me now.

Ahead is a new day. Luckily, after an hour before crossing a river with a checkpoint before the long concrete bridge, I find this amazing diner - brand new place with gleaming glass windows and Art Deco design using concrete for the the structure and wide and tall modern glass as the side of the wall looking out to a miniature desert. It was out of this world, and a good menu too. I had ridden through some of the roughest terrain and up and over the small desert to an oasis today, another Eden. Amazing. Here, I am just writing to relax, unwind and re-hydrate salted goat milk chai tea and fresh water while I sip soup by the bowl and chow these flat, fried noodles mixed with onions and potato, mutton and chunks of fat  in my bowl. I'm lucky to be alive today, I'm lucky to be traveling in Mongolia unlike other travels, there are no tarmac roads pointed in this direction, you need a compass and a GPS to follow these tracks. Life is - something truly unexpected.

Thanks for reading my journals written while traveling overland in Mongolia on a mountain bike. More adventures are coming soon!!!    Later, I will include a equipment report, one reader commented and asked about what equipment I am using and how the Lynskey titanium mountain bike performed this summer. The equipment is listed in the links above, and all details on equipment performance, maintenance and picks (what I liked, what I would leave behind, what I will bring next time) will be shared in the final print/ebook being developed right now away from these pages. Thank you all for visiting the Korean-World blog. (:

Mongolia X Journal 12 : Eat Sheep Head // Hitch-hiking with One-Eyed Herder and The Welder hauling the Dirt Load // Microadventure by Brian Peric

My family in North Central Mongolia = The Welder hauling dirt with his family

A few days ago, I visited a town in the middle of nowhere. I met a local hauling a load of soil into his village in a Bongo pickup truck, along with his one eyed friend - we drove together into town. I thought it would be helpful in this region to know some locals, and they looked intimidating at first - never judge others by outward appearance on the Steppe grasslands of Mongolia - 100% are genuine people living an otherworldly life that I have never known completely through birthrights. I do enjoy traveling and have found my global journey to take my permanent life to Asia, so I can relate to where I am traveling in Mongolia, Korea or China - all these are close to home these days for my new family.

We bounced a few kilometers together, I was relieved of biting flies - since there are so many of them in Mongolia. Natural scenery, clean air, beautiful country - and flies, loads and loads of them. I grew comfortable with my flocks though, they essentially kept me moving about 8 hours per day in the saddle, and they encouraged me to take shorter breaks and longer days pedaling. This was useful for me in several ways, on top of all, they kept me on my toes, alert and ready at times to strike back and kill. Flies have no where to go, they are equally or better evolved for the tenacious climate, weather and conditions and seem to hone in methodically on warm-blooded mammals, except this one happens to strike back with a vengeance after having them trail me, sip sweat off my clothing and panniers, and occasionally when their leader - zippy horseflies come in for the kill, or be killed. They bite, and many of their tiny knat fly friends will pay the price along with them. You can't kill them all, it's funny like a War, you win a battle if you stop paying attention to them, but lose it the moment you keep your mind on it. Power of thought, it's an important ingredient to adventure bicycle travel. Most already know this.

Outside town, wooden fences with paint faded and peeling in long strips was the guard stop of a tiny Buddhist temple. We stopped the truck with a squeal of brakes and dust shaken up and blown past as we opened our truck doors. My friends were shirtless, golden tanned and smiling brightly - great characters to meet in person, I would introduce friends to them when I return in the future! They allow me to stroll around, take photos of the building and surrounding, mostly wood buildings, all painted in the same faded maroon red paint, the wooden framed houses constructed as log cabins were the permanent dwellings, while most residents also had their Ger tents in their yards, quartered off by tall wooden fences. The Nomads have come to settle down, and this location was very pleasant - as were the people who I interacted with through shopping and exchanging money at a local bank.

"Some Mongolians suggested I try riding Motorcycles. 

Yes, I tried that many times across North America already. 5 times.

The bicycle is more economical and ecologically friendly than the motorcycle."

My host invited me to an amazing feast of sheep head stew, and with potatoes and bits of other organs, the liver, lungs, etc seemed to be well hashed together to make a perfect meal. It was delicious! I ate the entire tongue, which was cooked tender. Across the road from their lot, I bought Mongolian beer for my hosts and a flat cherry pie, like the pre-cooked instant European varieties.

We sat outdoors next to their log cabin home, there was a garden growing vegetables in their yard in place of a Ger tent, and there was a welding workshop, built of wooden timber in the shape of a small barn. I parked the bike in the workshop, and watched my host after dinner, cutting steel and welding steel to built frames for tables and work benches. He was a local handyman. Earlier today, we drove around town and he greeted everyone and I raised an arm saying "Sainbain au!" We dropped his one-eyed friend at a local convenience store, at the end of a hard manual day of labor, Mongolian men were sweeping their vodka out of these small shops and turning the dirt roads for home and their reward for their work.

In all, I had an enjoyable time here, apart from the annoying questions from a guest, local dentist and her husband who continuously probed for the value of my bicycle (I told them it was definitely cheaper than their motorcycle!), my yearly salary, where I would be leaving my bicycle when I left Mongolia, etc etc etc...that was enough to give me enough anxiety, would the bike be there in the barn where I left it in the morning? - of course, as they sat and drank all my beer!

I went outside in the heavy rain, walked 360 degrees around my tent and tightened the stakes in the Earthy soil, then zipped up my rain cover and took retreat indoors - the tent is the oasis.

The hosts couldn't communicate very well in English, their eldest daughter offered some translations which were the bridge over a large linguistic gap. The sheep head that the Wife of the  Herder Welder hauling dirt prepared was delicious, and their daughters educated and friendly. In all, their group was cheerful, warm and friendly -expecting nothing and appreciative for all the extra food gifts I purchased to leave with them the following day. Thank God, I left with photos and memories of a great night with them. It was unfortunately they had their uninvited and nosy guests, the Dentist and her tooth-pulling sly husband who seemed to drool over my bike, as the price of everything I had had strapped on my back, the bicycle of course (priceless, don't even ask me!) and the constant pressure to give them my banking balances and sources of income to take such a "worldly trip" as it were, visiting Mongolia. I explained the cost of the flight to the capital Ulaanbaatar from Korea was the biggest part of my investment, fortunately, with a return flight back home after this adventure was over. The rest of the bicycle parts were cobbled together and the frame being the most expensive component built by Lynskey in the USA.

Unexpected situations like this have rarely occur on any of my journeys around the world. Today was that 0.1% leading to an unexpected and uncomfortable time inside someone else's property while staked out camping near a vegetable garden on a dark, stormy night. But once I settled into my tent, lighting my guidebook with a headlamp, reading a few pages, I released my grip on the thoughts of of their dentist friend coming back at night with bolt cutters to remove my lock and snatch my bike, nothing more than a myth.  I slept great and left them with a memorable night shared together. It's worth mentioning, that even though the locals were housed and sheltered well, there as in most places in Mongolia today, there was no running water in the their place, nor flush toilets or showers. Just a wood box and hole in the ground outside for a toilet which does it's job. Be prepared for the unexpected. I always do.

Thanks for reading my daily thoughts and meditations written while mountain biking across Mongolia this summer. More adventure is coming soon!!!