Returning from our visit to the DMZ, we took a side road to visit the Hwanseon Cave. Personally, I’m not a big cave person. I (Gary) would put spelunking next to ice climbing at the top of the list of things I never want to do, but big caves are always interesting. The Hwanseon Cave is located in Gangwon Province. It is one of the largest limestone caves in Asia, and the biggest in Korea, with 6.2 km, (3.8 mi), of known passages and a total suspected length of 8 km, (4.9 mi), a mile of which are visited by over 1 million people a year. Situated in a rugged Karst Range near the city of Sachiko. The cave’s 32 ft tall entrance is a grueling 30 to 45 minute uphill hike from the ticket office. To our delight, there is a monorail that we took one way, Swiss style; ride up and walk down.

Hwanseon Cave

The Hwanseon Cave located in Gangwon Province is one of the largest limestone caves in Asia.

Once inside, the temperature varies between 10° and 14°C, (50°F and 57°F). The walls spout water from several cracks and seeps, which join to make good-sized streams, waterfalls and ten large pools. Some rooms in the cave are vast, 100 m, (328 ft), tall. Bridges have been built across chasms. The usual fanciful names have been given to the various formations, but the high rate of water flow has prevented the building up of many stalagmites or stalactites. Flowstones, rimstones, popcorn, pipes and curtains are more abundant. A labyrinth of stainless steel walkways allow the visitor to wander for an hour or more through the various chambers. The use of multi-colored LED lights along the walkways adds a fantasyland effect.

Haesindang Park – The Penis Park

Back on the main highway, we couldn’t resist a stop at Haesindang Park, (more commonly known among Westerners as ‘The Penis Park’). As the name would suggest, it’s a park full of penises!!!

Before you write this off as a sleazy joke, or an advertisement for a porn shop, consider the history.

Entering Haesindang Park – The Penis Park – you came immediately upon phallic symbols.

According to local legend, a young virgin girl had been dropped off by her lover on a small rocky islet in the bay while he went to check his traps. A storm was brewing and before he could rescue her, she was washed into the sea and downed. Around the same time, the local fishermen began to notice a steep decline in their catch. The fish, it seemed, had all but disappeared. Concluding (as anyone would!) that the young girl’s spirit was haunting the ocean, angry and frustrated after dying a virgin, the locals decided to take drastic action to appease her presumed spirit. And what does a virgin spirit want most??

Well, they used their imagination as you might, and a park was constructed, full to the brim with phallic monuments and statues. Meanwhile, the local men were encouraged to (ahem) ‘relieve’ themselves in the ocean, thus providing some very real offerings for this virgin ghost to sample!

The artistic skills of carvers and sculptures over the years have made this a popular tourist stop, mostly for busloads of older Korean women from what we could see. Clearly, in the fishing village of Sinnam, size does matter.

Tearing ourselves away from our comfortable campsite in the beach town of Samcheok, we headed north to the DMZ, (Demilitarized Zone – East Coast). Just to give you a little history, at 4 o’clock in the morning on June 25, 1950 North Korea carried out a sudden attack against South Korea led by Russian tanks. That was the beginning of the Korean War. Countries from around the world came to South Korea’s rescue. Under the banner of United Nations Forces, 40,896 soldiers from 17 Countries gave their lives to protect the Republic of Korea against the communist aggression. (Under the UN banner there were actually 16 nations – plus South Korea –  actively fighting, 7 countries supplied medical support and 5 countries other support.)

The DMZ (Demilitarized Zone)

divides the Korean Peninsula

The DMZ cuts the Korean Peninsula roughly in half, crossing the 38th parallel on an angle, with the west end of the DMZ lying south of the parallel and the east end lying north of it. It was created as part of the Korean Armistice Agreement between North Korea, China, and the United Nations Command Forces in 1953. But the “war” is not over. 28,500 United States Forces Korea (USFK) troops still assist the South Korean military in guarding the DMZ. ——We did not see any US forces but the South Korean Army certainly made its presence all along the east coast (where we traveled)——South Koreans see the U.S. military presence as a sign of Washington’s steadfast support in the event of a North Korean offensive and we hope this still holds true in 2019. Sporadic outbreaks of violence due to North Korean hostilities killed over 500 South Korean soldiers and 50 U.S. soldiers along the DMZ between 1953 and 1999.

North Korea is still a serious threat

Coils of razor wire along the beaches and costal highways were clear evidence that the threat from North Korea is still very present as we found out in Samcheok. We were told that North Koreans sneak up the beaches at night and on occasions, there had been shoot-outs between military and invaders. The excellent DMZ Museum near the entry to the controlled zone was a real education.

At this DMZ check-point, our papers were carefully checked and entered into their log.

We filled out all the necessary forms and received our pass to drive as far as the Unification Observatory north of the village of Myeongpa. We were not able to actually see any of the military posts, but the viewing deck left much to our imagination. The natural isolation along the 250 km (160 mi) length of the DMZ has created an involuntary park, which is now recognized as one of the most well preserved areas of temperate habitat in the world —- except for the land mines.

The United Nations Memorial Cemetery 

The center of the only UN Cemetery in the World was a beautiful reflection pool surrounded by flags representing all the countries who fought for South Korea’s freedom.

A couple of weeks later, we visited the UN Memorial Cemetery of Korea, (UNMCK), in the city of Busan.  Beautifully landscaped, in 1973, the cemetery was transferred from the UN to the Commission for the United Nations Memorial Cemetery (CUNMCK. To this day maintained by UN service personnel, it is the only UN cemetery of its kind in the world. The Wall of Remembrance was especially impressive, with the names of the 36,492 Americans and 4,404 other nationalities who died in the fight for South Koreans’ freedom, many of whom were buried on sight. An eternal flame burns over a reflection pool.

Honor, Freedom, Peace

It was a tragic war and a terrible loss of men and women, but looking at South Korea today, the monument in the American section says it all. “HONOR, FREEDOM, PEACE”. It’s a goal that seems to have been reached in this modern nation.

South Korea! What everyone knows about South Korea (or correctly called The Republic of Korea) is its caustic neighbor, North Korea. As it turns out, South Korea is a modern and well developed country ranked 22nd in the Human Development Index, the highest in East Asia. In terms of average wage, it has Asia’s highest and the world’s 10th highest income. It is the world’s most research-and-development intensive country and the most innovative as measured by the Bloomberg Innovation Quotient. South Korea is the world’s fifth largest exporter, driven by high-tech multinationals such as Samsung, Hyundai-Kia and LG. A highly advanced information society, South Korea has the world’s fastest Internet connection speed! What’s not to like about that?

Donghae – Port of Entry

The Eastern Dream ferry brought us from Vladivostok, Russia to Donhae, South Korea.

Disembarking from the Eastern Dream ferry on which The Turtle V had been safely parked in the lower deck, it was nearly dark when we finished with customs and insurance paperwork. Leaving the port of Donghae, we turned onto Hwy 7 and headed south, with only a vague idea of where we were going.

Drivers were shockingly polite. No honking of horns. A few miles down the road, we turned off at the Samcheok Beach exit, not knowing what we would find. As yet, we had no GPS or paper maps. Monika had downloaded the Lonely Planet South Korean Guide from iBooks on the mothballed iPad that we never got to work properly. However useful those books are, they are not aimed at overland travelers driving their own self-contained camper.

Polite Drivers and Road Signs

In case you were wondering, in 40,000 miles and 20 countries on highways, byways and two-tracks at a measured height of 3.3 m there was only one underpass in Istanbul where we had to go around.

Shortly we came to an intersection with an underpass clearly marked 3.6 meters!! We generally go with 3.5 meters on the Turtle V that includes the custom storage box on the rear of the roof. Our most accurate measurement is 3.3 meters. We held our breath, waiting for the box and the Yakima rack bars to be sliced off. Wheuu!! We made it!!

Turning right at the beach, well-lit so the military patrols might spot a North Korean trying to sneak in, we parked in a huge empty parking lot, our home for the next three days. It was a beautiful beach with a boardwalk and swings, clean restrooms and water, and half a block from our truck no less than six cute “coffee dessert” cafés with high-speed Internet and electrical plugs by the tables. (Who needs Starbucks?)

Celebrating Thanksgiving on Samcheok Beach

Samcheok Beach – A lovely place and a great introduction to South Korea!

The next day was Thanksgiving. Forget football, but what’s for dinner? Looking at the photos outside restaurants down the street, we could not identify anything that looked like comfort food. (A lot of it looked like “bait”, used for getting food!) Our Thanksgiving feast was multinational, as it should be: Hors d’oeuvre included hot buttered popcorn, (US), slices of dill pickles and cheese, (Russia), along with a shot or two of Mongolian Genghis Khan vodka. The main course was a rich Mole Poblano sauce, (Mexico), over chicken (canned from the US), bulgur from Turkey and sautéed carrots from Russia. Sorry, no pumpkin pie. We settled for some creamy JIFF peanut butter (US), on vanilla cookies, (Russia), and homemade apricot jam from our stash of frozen apricots from Kyrgyzstan. All the while our Espar Airtronic heater purred away, keeping us warm and cozy. We haven’t seen a turkey since we left Greece.

Sea Kayakers and a Teepee

A sea kayak club from Seoul camped on Samcheok beach for the weekend. We were surprised to discover Lee’s authentic teepee and pellet stove.

The next morning a guy ——designing yet another coffee shop—— brought us hot coffee and welcomed us. Next, the police stopped by, just curious about the strange truck but very friendly. Then a group of sea kayakers arrived and camped down the beach. Real campers!! One guy, Lee, had a big teepee with a unique pellet-burning stove inside. A couple of them spoke English and invited us that evening for a taste of their local food and some homemade pumpkin/rice wine. (Not even close to pumpkin pie.) Lee, who also spoke excellent English, invited us the following evening and we sat in his warm teepee looking for a way to download a South Korean map on Monika’s i-Pad. It worked. In the morning he invited us for rice-cake soup and Monika prepared REAL Turkish coffee, something he had never had. He knew from a movie that Turks read their fortune from the left-over coffee grounds poured onto the saucer so we laughingly tried our luck at it.

Squid Season

Squid are drying in the cold winter air.

Later he kindly drove us to the fishing village of Samcheok for some grocery shopping and a map from the Tourist Information Office. The smell of drying fish was in the air. Among other specialties it was squid season and many hung on drying lines in the sun. At night fishing boats use long strings of bright lights that attract the squid to the surface where they are netted. Fish come along for the ride.

No Korean can live without Kimchi

It seemed that outside every house people were storing bucket and buckets full of salted cabbage, the first ingredient in kimchi preparation.

It was also cabbage season—–tons of it. A dish called “kimchi” is part of Korea’s national identity. Making kimchi from Napa Cabbage was historically a way for people to preserve vegetables for the long harsh Korean winter before the advent of modern refrigeration. With the introduction of chili peppers to Asia from the New World by the Portuguese in the 1600’s, it didn’t take long before people figured out that the capsicum in peppers had an antimicrobial effect aiding in preservation, while adding a little spice to the bleak winter days. South Koreans believe no meal is complete without a bit of kimchi which supposedly aids digestion.

Looked like the next Ro-Ro ship to take our Turtle V back to California will sail on December 16, 2014 so we had some time to explore a little of this beautiful country.

It had snowed off and on all night in Khabarovsk but the snow plows had been busy. We considered putting on our heavy rear Pewag chains but we were heading south so maybe road conditions would improve. It wasn’t our first time putting on chains, but it is still not fun in freezing weather. Doing some last-minute shopping in the supermarket just across the street, we guessed not too many foreigners wandered through the isles with bulky North Face jackets on. An older store attendant followed us around like he suspected we were up no good. We finally cornered him in the liquor department and asked what he thought was the best vodka. He relaxed a little after that.

80 Gals. of Arctic Diesel fill our two

Transfer Flow Tanks

Thermidors snake their way along and over highways supplying hot water to heat buildings and apartments.

Heading out of town on squeaky packed snow, we stopped once to fill both our Transfer Flow tanks with Arctic grade diesel. Our capacity of over 80 gallons would take us well into South Korea before we had to fill again. It was an easy 759 km, (471 miles). Except for a few muddy detours around bridges under repair, the highway varied from smooth to broken potholes.

Vladivostok was founded in 1860 as a Russian military outpost which translates to “Rule the East”. Beginning in 1891, it became the eastern terminus of the Trans-Siberian Railway, a seven-day journey from Moscow. During the Stalin era starting in the 1922 until 1953, millions of prisoners arriving by train were transferred to ships bound for Magadan to work in the Kolyma region’s forced labor camps. Few survived.

Vladivostok – closed to foreigners until 1992

The original Prince Nikolai Arch was built to commemorate the visit of the future Tsar Nikolai II when he officially opened the beginning of the Trans Siberian railroad construction and Vladivostok’s train station in 1891. The Bolsheviks destroyed the building and this is a modern copy of the arch built in 2003.

Until 1992, foreigners were not permitted in Vladivostok. Today it’s a major Pacific port city overlooking the Golden Horn Bay near the borders with China and North Korea. Until the recent completion of the Amur Highway, this hub of commerce and Russian/Siberian civilization, has been mostly isolated from Moscow and the majority of the country by 7 time zones, (the country has 11), and 3991 miles, (6423km). Vladivostok is a free port, a status granted in 1861 and modified since. That may account for the many lines of semi-trucks loaded with cars coming from the port. We had considered shipping The Turtle V back to California from here, but stories of long waits in an unsecured customs storage lots gave us reason to continue to South Korea and ship home from there.

Customs and Immigration

Our Customs Agent, Yuri Melnikov of Links Ltd., took care of our Exit paperwork and led us to a truck wash.

Our first task was to contact our customs agent Yuri Melnikov of Links, Ltd., who led us directly to a truck wash. After nearly 4,000 miles of often treacherous winter roads from Olgii, Mongolia to Vladivostok, The Turtle V needed a bath. The ferry to South Korea had not docked yet so we camped in a local parking lot at the edge of the Golden Horn Bay. A little noisy!!! It turned out to be a perfect place for guys with “tuned” Hondas, Nissans and even BMWs to practice “drifting”, the art of spinning donuts at 5,000 rpm much of the night!! We guess the police allowed it because they didn’t want them doing it on public roads. After one night of this ruckus we moved to the port and spent another much quieter night, with time to walk around the city and admire the peaceful ocean-front promenade and the many beautiful buildings. It was actually a nice city, not the chaotic port we had expected. We even found an interesting open market where we scored a couple of our favorite Russian “vacuum cleaners” (brooms) and admired the hardware stores. Throughout downtown were many towering memorial statues paying tribute to various important people or events.

An almost identical Coat of Arms of the Tsarist Empire reappeared again after the fall of the Soviet Union. The Golden Horn bridge is in the background.

Yuri Melnikov’s assistant walked us through the various customs and immigration offices to finalize our exit papers. Over the years, we have learned that it is always much faster to hire a local customs clearing agent than trying to figure it out yourself. They know the tricks of the trade and the agents. It took less than two hours to receive the final paperwork. (With plenty of time and patience, you can always do it yourself but if you do not speak the language and your visa expiration is ticking, it may not be worth it.)

We did it!

Our goal to drive across Eurasia, from the Atlantic to the Pacific has been accomplished.

A photo for the memory book, we had driven around the world the second time, well almost. Still gotta get home.

We took a moment to reflect that we had just completed a two year adventure of driving from the rocky cliffs of Portugal on the Atlantic to the blue waters of the Pacific, crossing all of Europe and Asia, wheels on the ground, visiting 26 unique countries, and following the main routes of the Silk Road. Along that tortuous route we met many wonderful people, including the “Magic Girl of the Pamirs” in Tajikistan, whom we are now sponsoring in a prestigious private school in Khorog. All this, and we are not even home yet, with South Korea to explore and Japan with a visit to the “Snow Monkeys” high on the wish list.

Ferry to South Korea

Vehicles are being loaded into the belly of the Eastern Dream DBS Cruise Ferry bound for South Korea.

Once the Eastern Dream DBS Cruise Ferry had tied up, The Turtle V was quickly onboard via the ship’s unique side loading ramp. We moved into our “Junior Suite” and enjoyed a leisurely dinner with Maéva and Remi, fellow overland travelers from France. 

Leaving Chita, the roads had been plowed and were nearly dry. We made good time. There were very few people or villages now, since previously this was only a “cart road” or nothing; deep permafrost mud in the summer and impassable snow in the winter and no bridges. The Trans-Siberian Highway is the unofficial name for a network of federal highways which span over 11,000 kilometers, (6,800 mi), of Russia, crossing the country from Saint Petersburg on the Baltic Sea (Atlantic Ocean) to Vladivostok on the Sea of Japan (Pacific Ocean). Much of the route parallels that of the existing Trans-Siberian Railway. It is one of the world’s longest national highways.

Fellow Travelers along the Amur Highway 

Russian truck drivers were always friendly and excited to see our truck.

Construction on the “Chita-Khabarovsk” road section was started back in 1977 by the military. By 2004 it was officially opened with gravel and in 2010 it was mostly paved. In a famous PR junket, Vladimir Putin drove a short section of the newly-finished Amur Highway in a yellow Lada. So now there was a thru route, except for a few muddy detours and bridges being rebuilt. On a road like this, like the Alaskan Highway, it will always be “under construction”.

A village called Never

Even in villages, TV dishes had arrived.

The only stop we made of interest was Never. This ramshackle town seemed mostly abandoned. No gas station, only a small store. Back in 1996, before the highway was completed, this was the turnoff for a gravel road north to Tynda. We were told that hundreds of right-hand drive cars from Japan were smuggled in past customs to Yakutsk on the Lena River. The small houses were the classic style we had seen all over rural Russia, with their pretty hand-painted window frames. You could probably rent one for almost nothing.

Blizzard, snowy roads and black ice

The snow plows were getting a little behind and we were chasing the storm.

There were occasional turnouts where trucks stopped overnight and we took advantage of those. On one occasion, someone had abandoned two cute puppies. We gave them some bowls of warm milk & bread and they loved it. Russian truck drivers were always friendly and excited to see our truck. Getting diesel was not a problem, but we had to make sure we were using the pump with the lowest temperature grade of “winter diesel” available. Even then, we still added Amsoil Diesel Cold Flow and Diesel Injector Clean additives if there was any question. “Summer” diesel had lubricants that would freeze and clog up our fuel filters.

A nice Welcome to Khabarovsk

In the morning this man was selling fresh milk. He welcomed us to Khabarovsk with a complementary liter.

As another approaching blizzard became more threatening, we again locked the hubs. In the extreme cold I had to use a crescent wrench to turn the lock knobs on our Dynaloc Hubs. Battling near whiteout conditions, we stopped early. The temperature outside was -18°F (-28°C). Our dual-pane Dometic Seitz windows helped keep the cold out, but our little single-pane window on the door iced over in the morning. We slept warm with our Eberspaecher Airtronic humming away on its maintenance mode. The honeycomb Nida Core walls, floor and ceiling of The Turtle V have a high insulation R-value rating.

Serious Trouble struck one chilly Morning

In the morning, after preheating the engine with our Eberspaecher D5 Hydronic Coolant Heater, the engine started quickly, pushing warm air into the cab. From where we were parked, I made a quick sharp U-turn. I had forgotten that the power steering system was not being warmed by the engine. There was a disturbing “squeal” and a “whoosh” sound. A seal on our power steering hose had blown or a hose had ruptured in the cold. A yellow puddle of power steering fluid in the snow made the possible disaster obvious. I quickly refilled the remote power steering reservoir, and after warming up the system, the blown seal miraculously repaired itself. Wheeeeeue!!! I was wondering where I might get a new hose made at a hydraulic shop in the middle of Siberia—in the middle of nowhere. Joke!!

Thermidors/Utilidors

Thermidors provide central heat and hot water to all the houses of a town.

With great relief, we continued onto Khabarovsk the next day. Khabarovsk is the largest city and the administrative center of Khabarovsk Krai. Just 30 kilometers, (19 miles), from the Chinese border, it sits at the confluence of the Amur and Ussuri rivers. It is the second largest city in the Russian Far East, after Vladivostok.

Arriving at night, the temperature was way below freezing, but people were still walking around and shopping. It reminded me of some Russian sayings. “It takes twenty dumb animals to make a fur coat, (mink, otter, fox, rabbit), but only one dumb animal not to wear one.” And, “There is no bad weather. Only people wearing the wrong clothes.” We donned our North Face down jackets and Sorel winter boots and joined the locals on the street. We had found a perfect place to park for a night or two just across from a supermarket. In the morning a man was selling fresh milk in front of our truck and he gave us a complementary liter as a welcome gift. A few blocks away we found a place where locals were getting water and we were able to filled our tank, one 5-gallon bucket at a time. With a little time to spare, we stayed an extra day to relax from our grueling drive. The next leg to Vladivostok was only 759 km, (471 miles), so if the road was plowed we could make it in a day—-or two. Heading south now the weather should improve.

After a final goodbye to our old friends in Rubtsovsk, we hit the icy roads of Siberia with memories of our crossing in 1996. Many good changes had taken place but it also brought much more traffic. Now instead of frozen mud and gravel roads, they were mostly paved, covered with treacherous black ice and hard-packed snow. The plows were busy but sometimes they could hardly keep up with the storm we were driving into. Passing semi-trucks would create near whiteout conditions in the dry powder.

Blizzards and treacherous Roads

This river was about to ice up.

Daylight hours were getting shorter as we headed east, demanding that if we were to make any real progress, we needed to drive 12 hours a day, some at night. Uncapping our PIAA 510 fog lights and aiming them low gave us an idea of the centerline and sides of the narrow two-lane highway, sometimes in blizzard conditions. Our 580 Driving XTreme White Plus Halogen Lamps were pointed about 60 yards down the road, giving us ample time to see potholes or other unannounced obstacles. Oncoming trucks with their own arsenal of lights were quick to let us know if we were slow in turning off the incredibly bright 580’s.

PIAA Lights and Michelin XZL’s 

Habitation fog created a moody sunrise.

Our Michelin XZL tires had been a concern back in Turkey. With already some 18,000 miles on them then, would they last on the bad roads through the Stans and then all the way across China? Much to our relief and amazement, even after the horrendous crossing of the Altai Gobi Desert in Mongolia, we had no flats. Even running at reduced pressures, (35 to 40psi front and rear), for three months when paved roads were so rough and potholed that they were worse than the dirt washboard of Mongolia, the XZL’s had not lost a single pound of air during the entire trip. Now at nearly 35,000 miles, the treads still had plenty of bite in the snow and slop. Nothing will stop on ice and packed snow. We did have Pewag Mud & Snow chains for all four wheels, but that would have reduced our speed to 35 mph. Without chains or studs, it made for some white-knuckle driving on the corners and passing slow big rigs, but installing chains at temperatures below 20°F is not fun.

Temperatures dropped way below Freezing

With shorter daylight hours, we uncapped our PIAA 510 fog lights and our 580 Driving XTreme White Plus Halogen Lamps. Oncoming traffic was quick to let us know if we were slow in turning off the incredibly bright 580’s.

As temperatures dropped into the minuses we reflected on our adventure of driving up the frozen Lena River from Yakutsk to Lensk for 680 miles on the ice and then another 700 miles on winter roads through the Taiga forest in 1996, when it had never been above freezing. That was infinitely easier but exciting in a different way.

Our first leg was a short 180 miles to Barnaul where we parked outside the immigration office to be first in line in the morning. No problems! With all the forms filled out in advance and an English-speaking person willing to help us, planning ahead paid off.

The highway, when it was clear, was often arrow-straight through the seemingly impenetrable Taiga forest of birch. There were few villages, but we did spot a deep-well water spigot and filled our tank. It was another example of the useful water thief, a synthetic rubber fitting that attaches to an unthreaded faucet on one end and a common garden hose on the other.

A truck rear mud flap that got our attention!

Our next destination would be 1,853 miles to Chita, passing Irkutsk, called the “Paris of Siberia” and beautiful Lake Baikal. No time to pause and enjoy the scenery, but we did stop to buy some smoked Omul, a whitefish species of the salmon family endemic to Lake Baikal.

The historic mining town of Chita

Chita was an historic city dating back to its days of silver mining and then as a hub for the trans-Siberian railway. In 1996 when we crossed Siberia, driving up the Lena River for 680 miles and a then winter road for another 700 miles to Bratsk, Chita was the end of the road going east from Irkutsk. At that time there was no road of any kind across all the Far East to the Pacific.

We have happy memories camping on the shores of Lake Baikal where we spent a month with The Turtle IV in 1996.

Some of the old wooden homes were still standing, a tribute to the craftsmanship of their builders. New stone buildings were beautiful, reflecting the importance of Chita even today with the new highway finished from the east. Signs of westernization were everywhere, like a Carl’s Jr. Arriving during the day, we took time to walk around town and admire the beautiful old buildings and the central park where people were buying little bags of bird seed for the fat pigeons.

Monika gets another Visa Extension

With Monika’s visa extended again, we had ten whole days to get to Khabarovsk, 1,312 miles away, and then down to Vladivostok, another 472 miles away, but heading northeast over the hump in China, the weather was changing again. The dark clouds were not friendly.

Our emergency trip back to Ulaanbaatar, (the capital of Mongolia), to pick up repair suspension parts from Hellwig and get the necessary visas and extensions had been fun and interesting, but it definitely threw a wrench into our expected travel plans. We had hoped to drive back to the capital on the spectacular road we had followed to reach Olgii, stop at some ger (yurt) summer camps, and then head south and west again to cross the Central Gobi Desert.

Most of the Russian highways were in excellent condition.

Now, our visas for Mongolia were running out and winter was approaching rapidly. With all the repairs made, we decided to turn north to cross into Russia. Reports of that road had been good or not so good. After waiting for a change of guard and lunch hour to pass, crossing the border was slow but relatively easy except for paying a fine at the Mongolian border for Gary being late in registering at an immigration office.

Crossing the Mongolian-Russian Border

And then, an officer suddenly asked to see our insurance papers. At the entry port, no one required it. Quick thinking. Monika flashed her AAA card and claimed it was our international insurance that covered Mongolia. Quite surprised they thought it was a credit card. Oh no, it’s our insurance card. Baffled, they let us go. Entering Russia was efficient and uneventful.

Arriving in Rubtsovsk, there was no doubt that winter had arrived. Almost always below freezing.

The drive north along the beautiful Chuya River was relaxing after our trip across the Northern Gobi but first, we had to stop in Kosh-Agach. We had stumbled into this fly-spec of a town in 1996 on our way across the mountains of Tuva and the Altai Republic. Its personality had not changed in 18 years, and as our Lonely Planet’s 1996 addition of Russia, Ukraine & Belarus guide book clearly pointed out, Kosh-Agach was “in the middle nowhere”. Kosh-Agach is the driest inhabited place in the Russian Federation. 

Arriving in Rubstovsk, Altai Republic

We spent some wonderful evenings with our old friends. Thanks to Vitali who is fluent in English, the conversations flowed easily. We had much to catch up. Left to right, Svetlana, Vitaly, yours truly, Nina and Losha.

Our old friends, Vitaly and Losha, in the city of Rubtsovsk, had emailed that they could help us with a second problem. Due to an unsigned agreement between Russia and Switzerland & Germany, residents of those two countries could not apply for the normal one-month visa outside their home country or country of residence. All Monika could get was a ten-day transit visa with her Swiss passport. Great, except it was about 4,000 miles east to our destination of Vladivostok on the Pacific Coast, and by the way, it was winter in Siberia, and we were driving, not flying!

Famous Russian Hospitality

Arriving in Rubtsovsk we were met with typical Russian hospitality. Losha’s wife, Nina, was busy making fresh crêpes with homemade jam. Losha had just left for a fishing trip to nearby Kazakhstan but turned right around and was back the next day. No one had ever dreamt of us returning someday. We immediately felt like we were back home! 

Since Vitaly wasn’t there to translate, Mr. Google came up with some really strange interpretations of our text.

After several phone calls by Vitaly and his wife Svetlana, who knew someone in the local immigration office, they filled out a flurry of paperwork, took Monika to a passport photo studio and a bank to pay fees. Unfortunately, the immigration office in Rubtsovsk did not have the authority to give her an extension so Vitaly was kind enough to call ahead to Barnaul, the capital of Altai, to advise them when we were coming and that they needed to have an English speaking person at the desk. He later set up another appointment in Chita, as we needed more time to cross the vast expanse of wintry Siberia.

Invigorating Banyas and Wonderful Parties

To present a man a knife is highly revered in Russia. Gary let the guys pick a knife from his stash of gifts.

While all this was being done we had a great visit with several old friends and enjoyed an invigorating Russian “banya”, (sauna), wonderful food and, well, it was Russia, a little vodka. Only our generous 1996 hosts, Loriss and Larisa, were sadly missing. Loriss had passed away several years ago and Larisa now lives with her daughter in Yekaterinenburg. The pleasure of seeing each other again was huge for all of us and brought back wonderful memories of Autumn mushroom hunting & campfire cook-outs, fishing excursions, rafting on the Katun river, saunas and jumping in a cold creek or a red heart shaped bathtub, and the most fabulous birthday party anyone had ever thrown for Monika (yup, here we go again). They were all members of a club called the “Rubtsovsk Tourist Club” where families got together and were involved in many different outdoor activities. 

Open Markets and new Super Markets

Ana is quite a performer. She takes dancing and singing lessons and competes successfully in beauty/talent competitions.

A couple of trips to the local open market with Vitaly, acting as our guide and chauffeur, brought pleasant memories and having been in Muslim countries for much of the last year, we were happy to see pork and tasty sausages again. While we were running around town, a friend of Vitaly was both a computer and a Garmin expert and he made quick of erasing our “turn-by-turn” Garmin China microchip and installing a detailed map of Russia which we did not have.

An annoying Clunk

There was also an annoying “clunk” coming from the front suspension. We visited a couple of mechanic shops in town and one guy said it was the front sway bar, but I knew that I had not checked or repacked the front wheel bearings for over 35,000 horrible miles, a service I would normally do every 20,000 miles.

A last parting shot with lovely Nina, our hostess, and Gary.

In sub-zero weather we got a sunny day and a second mechanic agreed with me. He knew exactly what he was doing and without even taking the big Michelin XZL tires off, an inspection showed there was still plenty of grease on the bearings but he was able to get a full turn on both outside bearing retaining nuts. Very fortunately, we did have the Dynatrac Free-Spin hub kits that replaced the problematic factory unit-bearings. The Dynatrac Free-Spin hubs use normal Timken bearings and seals and can be serviced anywhere. I did carry a full set of bearings and seals, and I had the big locknut socket needed to remove the outer bearing nuts. The “clunk” was gone!!

Saying Good-Bye to our wonderful Friends

Saying a sad goodbye to our wonderful Russian friends, we started across a tortuous route with stops at the necessary immigration offices to have Monika’s visa extended for another ten days.

With the excitement of the Golden Eagle Festival over, we were quickly brought back to reality and the fact that The Turtle V had a serious suspension problem. The good news was that repair parts from Hellwig Products in Visalia, CA were waiting to be sent. The bad news was that there was nothing remotely like DHL, UPS or FEDX anywhere close to the “middle of nowhere”. They had to go to an address in Ulaanbaatar, the capital, and being in “middle of nowhere”, we did not have an address in Ulaanbaatar. The good news was that there were regular flights from the “middle of nowhere”, and having found a very safe place to park our truck at the Travelers Guest House yurt camp, we were on the next plane out. The flight gave an interesting prospective on the road we had just driven.

Flight from Olgii to Ulanbaatar

The flight from Olgii to Ulanbaatar gave us an overall view of the landscape we had just driven through.

Once in the capital we quickly established an address to where the parts could be shipped. In the meantime, we learned that US citizens, who do not need a visa for Mongolia, have to register within five days. Well, I was a little late and ended up having to file a bunch of paperwork and later pay a fine at the border. We were also waiting for the invitation needed for a Russian visa from a friend in Moscow. That too was being mailed as we settled into a small Airbnb type apartment close to the center of the sprawling city. We had a shared kitchen and nearby super markets sold products we would expect to find in Europe. We waited and caught up on emails, blogs and sorting photos.

Hellwig Spare Parts

In 1996, we had spent time Ulaanbaatar and it had grown considerably. It was still a friendly city to get around in. We were warned that the homeless boy-gangs were quite active and were incredibly clever at ripping unsuspecting tourists off. We had expected to return to Olgii within five days but that would not be the case and we had to cancel our return flight. The Hellwig spare parts arrived first. We had to take a bus to the airport to retrieve the package from customs after completing some paperwork and pay an import fee. We will never know what route the “Express” package took. We could see, with a grimace, that the final carrier was none other than Pony Express—-no joke!

Russian Visa Invitations

The letter of invitations for the Russian visa should have arrived at the same time. It didn’t. Both we and our friend in Moscow were starting to worry. Over a week passed and still nothing. Then, on a Friday afternoon, it finally showed up at our apartment, but it was too late to go to the Russian Embassy that day.

Ulanbaatar Culture

Sükhbaatar Square is the center of Ulanbaatar.

The classic Mongolian boots with toes turned up.

Making the best of our extended stay; we visited the National Historic Museum, some of the impressive Buddhist temples, the Sunday outdoor flea market, a wonderful Mongolian dance performance, and strolled around the spacious downtown plaza. As chance might have it, hundreds of locals had gathered to celebrate an Ulanbaatar anniversary. After music and speeches, everyone received a piece of an enormous birthday cake. With Antonello and Sara, a fun couple from Italy who were traveling around the world, we enjoyed some great Mongolian food. Ulaanbaatar just happens to be one of the best places in the world to buy cashmere products; hats, sweaters, scarfs and other incredibly warm and soft apparel. One non-profit store, Tsagaan Alt, is working with 12 co-ops employing 250 disadvantaged individuals.

Rediscovering Gana’s Guesthouse

We posed on the roof top of Gana’s Guesthouse in Ulanbaatar with Gana’s wife and his son who now helps manage the “yurt hotel”. Our old friend was off on a fishing trip.

When we arrived in Ulaanbaatar in 1996 by train to renew our Russian visas, we met a young English speaking man named Gana who offered us a yurt to sleep. That sounded like fun and a good alternative to the only expensive hotel in town. (Yes, at that time there was only one hotel in the capital!) He had just bought a second yurt and we were his first customers. The other was occupied by two Danish travelers. Since then, Gana grew his business exponentially, built a “yurt” hotel on the roof of his building. Here guests can still sleep in traditional yurts overlooking the city. Gana’s Guesthouse is a fun place to stay. Very pleased we found him again, he invited us to stay for dinner. His wife brought out an album with photos the Danes had sent them.

An unpleasant surprise awaited us in Olgii

When we boarded the Aero Mongolia aircraft in Olgii it had been sunny and in the 30s at night. We had left our Eberspaecher Airtronic diesel air heater on low, thinking that our four Odyssey Extreme batteries in combo with the two BP85 solar panels would keep things toasty for the few days we would be gone. Surprise! The day after we left for Ulaanbaatar, which turned out to be a 13-day adventure, the sun went south and the temperature inside our camper dropped to 20°F and lower at night. With no sun on the solar panels and the Eberspaecher running full time, the batteries were soon down below 11 volts. When we returned our Everpure secondary pre-filter had frozen and exploded, leaving us with no water until I could make repairs and splices to bypass the dead filter. The primary ADC Everpure filter had survived and thankfully, our Pentair Shurflo water pump also had not frozen.

Repairing our Hellwig Suspension 

A crowd gathered to watch the mechanic go to work.

Next, we had to find a shop where the truck could be worked on, and with a daytime temperature of 20°F, it had to be inside. After removing the rear storage box on the roof and lowering the tires to 15 psi, we were able to squeeze into the only mechanic shop in town. Having seen some of the work done on other projects around Olgii—like welding—we were concerned, but there was no choice. I had looked for a hardware store to buy a big bolt for the sway-bar drop-arm and found that the bolt selection in the only parts house in town which was part of the mechanic shop consisted of two military ammo cans, one for metric and one standard, all recycled. Pick and choose what you needed.

Bolts, Bits and Tools

The young mechanic was somewhat taken back by the job we presented. His entire tool kit was laughable. But like any good third world mechanic, he had no fear. I loaned him my sockets and wrenches and when it came time to enlarge a couple of holes in the new brackets sent by Hellwig, the shop had a drill, but no bits and no vise. We had bits and our Mac’s Trail D-Vise mounted on the back bumper proved its weight in gold. The work took about three hours plus another hour to reinstall the rear storage box and repack it. The bill was a $100, and that even included another truck wash!

With repairs made, we did take time to explore Olgii, the “middle of nowhere”, and found it was a cute little town with a great public bath. The open market was interesting. We stocked up on the normal stuff; potatoes and carrots, $.17lb, mutton, (lamb) and beef, $1.46 a lb., cucumbers, $.90 lb., apples, $.90 a lb., Genghis Khan vodka, $6.61.

Hey, we could afford to live here!

After doing a final wash of our travel clothes using the luxury of the washing machine at the Travelers Guest House, we hung them outside to dry. They were frozen stiff in half an hour so we moved them into the heated camper and cranked the Eberspaecher Airtronic heater up to 70°F. We had heard the road to the Russian border was good, unless it wasn’t.

Both Travelers Guest House in Olgii and Gana’s Guesthouse in Ulaanbaatar can be booked through all the online travel agencies.

In order to complete the Mongolia series, we are reposting Monika’s Birthday blog. Only she can get away with celebrating two birthdays in one year!

What’s a birthday? Just another number on the calendar right? Not for Monika! Her birthdays are special and can last for days, depending on what she dreams up each year. Backpacking in the California Sierras, climbing to the top of Half Dome nearly 5,000 feet above Yosemite Valley and 8,800 feet above sea level, jumping out of a perfectly good airplane at 18,000 feet to skydive over Monterey Bay, a week or two in Cuba—–are you getting the picture?

A Camel Trek in the Gobi Desert

Yes, another birthday wish of Monika’s comes true!

This year was no exception. She was set on a camel trek in the Gobi Desert of Mongolia. Fortunately, we were already in Mongolia in the Altai region of the Gobi, and there were plenty of camels.

We went to Kazakh Tours, (mistake), in Olgii to see what they offered. We should have taken a hint when the owner, Dosjan, came 15 minutes late for the 10:00 AM appointment we had made. Finishing the chunk of chocolate hanging out of his mouth, in-between yawns, he said no problem. He had arranged many treks by camel in the Altai Gobi Desert. Since he was an official ticket agent for Aero Mongolia, we also had him make round-trip reservations for our flight to Ulaanbaatar where we had to pick up the repair parts for our rear suspension sent by Hellwig from California, get Monika’s Mongolian visa extended and apply for our Russian visas. All that’s another story.

Holding a majestic Golden Eagle, what a treat!

Monika was excited to be allowed to hold this Golden Eagle, a three-year old female that had placed 5th (of 72) in the recent competition. (See previous blogs.)

The next morning our driver, (I use the term loosely.), picked us up at the comfortable Travelers Guest House where Nazka Khavel, the owner, had graciously allowed us to parked The Turtle V. We headed off in his unheated rattle-trap UAZ into the mountains at off-road racing speeds. Turned out Dosjan, (Kazakh Tours), had changed the family/owner of the camels without telling us, and the driver didn’t really know where they lived. After several stops to make cell phone calls for directions, smoke a cigarette and to ask locals where we were going, where to cross the river, (hum), and which faintly visible track to take. After two hours, we arrived at a typical Kazakh mud brick home in the middle of a huge valley instead of the expected Mongolian Ger (Yurt).

Spitting Camels

Stay back! He is about to spit you in the face.

We were invited in and enjoyed the typical hot milk tea while we warmed up and waited for the camels.The camels were not too happy about having their morning interrupted and showed their discontent by belching and spitting, (really more like a “power barf”) of half chewed sour smelling grass, spraying our guide, Arman, and us with whatever else makes up camel cud. The cute little stick poking through their nose with a rope tied to it was the method of control. Hey! What would you do if you had a stick though your nose and your wife/husband etc. yanked on the rope and said, “Get down on your knees or I’ll yank on the rope again?”

So they knelt and we climbed on, and off we went for a 3–hour ride across the lumpy grasslands, splashing through creeks & mud holes and weaving our way around herds of sheep, goats, cows, yaks and horses as the camels lurched behind our “guide”. We think he was a great guy and a talented golden eagle hunter, but leading tourists on camel treks was not really his business and his English was zit. It took about five minutes for him to understand that Gary wanted to stop and get off the camel for a few minutes. His voice was already changing!

Traditional hot salty Milk Tea

The older sister didn’t like her picture taken but when we mentioned Facebook she got excited.

We quickly noticed that something was missing—-like padding!! There was no saddle as we had seen in museums and even on the cover of our Lonely Planet Mongolian guide book. One of us sat painfully on a cover the thickness of a cheap beach towel. The other had a slightly better felt pad suitable for a ten minute tourist ride around the paddock. The bony backbone of a camel is rock-hard (think dinosaur). The extremely uneven terrain made the stride of the beasts even more pronounced as they stumbled along.

It was about 20°F/-7°C and after an hour we started to think about the ride back. Unfortunately, Arman, who was really a local stockman and more interested in checking on his herds of sheep and that of his neighbors, took the long way home. Returning to the simple three-room house, we were happy to be back on the ground. The mother and father were off in Kazakhstan but his 20-year old sister and their younger sibling had stoked up the firebox with a fresh load of cow dung and hot tea was waiting. There wasn’t a tree for miles around, so dried cow and horse dung are the main sources for heat and cooking. They had also prepared a delicious one-plate lunch of lamb, (mutton), potatoes and noodles.

A surprise Birthday Party for Monika

Boba designed a special birthday card for Monika.

We took some fun photos with Arman’s Golden Eagle and headed back to Olgii. When we arrived at the Travelers Guest house, Nazka’s teenage relative, Boba, knocked on the door and presented Monika with pencil drawing of The Turtle V as a birthday card, and her husband had brought a very pink birthday cake that the young kids and we devoured in short order. Nazka presented Monika with a pretty Kazakh-style hand-embroidered bag and had cooked a tasty meatball soup that everyone enjoyed after the cake. When there are kids around, cake comes first.

We retired to our warm camper to sip some birthday wine and inspect the memories on our butts that we will not show you photos of here.

After a week, the bloody sores on our rear ends had healed, the tailbones had recovered and the memories faded into a painful humor.

Another memorable birthday. What’s next year? Climbing to Mount Everest’s Base Camp or up Kilimanjaro, spend a week with a Masai family?? Stay tune for Monika’s Birthday. Never a dull moment!!

It was 23°F outside under a blazing blue sky as the second day of the 16^th Annual Golden Eagle Festival began. Different from the previous day’s event where eagles had to attack a dead rabbit or fox being drug behind their trainer’s horse, today they had to zero in on their owner who held a chunk of meat in his gloved hand while riding at full speed across the field. Sharp talons extended, as soon as the eagle had landed on the glove, breakfast was served. This too was all timed by officials and the Kazakh hunters would race by the judging stand with his eagle enjoying the ride with wings open in an impressive display of the close relationship of man, horse and bird.

Hunters demonstrating their Skills

Once the eagle landed on her trainer’s glove the galloping horse was quickly brought to a stop.

While the next competition was being organized, we wandered around the gers (yurts) where beautiful “tus kis”, (hand-embroidered tapestries), used to decorate the ger walls and other souvenirs were for sale. Several locals had set up grills to cook “shashlik”, skewers of mutton and fat sprinkled with their own special spices, served with raw sliced onions and bread.

Among the local Kazakh Mongolians, there were several archery contests. In one competition, instead of pointed arrows, they used blunt tips and the goal was to hit small leather balls that had been lined up about 30 yards away. It looked like billiards with a Mongolian twist. Their accuracy was impressive.

Bloody Knuckles in Tug-a-War 

It was a fierce battle to the end until one of the riders ended up with the sheep carcass in his lap.

Meanwhile, the camel race was being staged. It was not as action-packed as we might have imagined, since the ungainly bactrians are not really into galloping across the stony desert. They were encouraged on by men on horseback riding along side with whips.

Archery Competition

There were several archery contests.

Back in the main arena, the final competition for the eagle hunters was getting under way. A sheep carcass was tossed on the ground and the riders, two at a time, would pick it up and get a firm grip for an exciting tug-a-war that could last several minutes until one of the riders succeeded in wrestling the bloody carcass away from the other. The horses played a critical role in the battle and the skill of the riders was amazing as they kept their grip on the carcass and used the power of their stocky Mongolian horses to the best advantage. Competition was fierce and we spotted quite a few who were nursing their bleeding knuckles. Apparently there were some rules because there was an umpire watching the battle.

Ashol-Pan breaks the Male Tradition

The big sensation was 13 year old Ashol-Pan, the first female to become an eagle hunter, or is it huntress?

In past years, the winner of the eagle contest was allowed to send his eagle after a live fox or a small wolf pup as a final demonstration of the eagle’s skill for the crowd. The fox this year died or was killed, so a wolf pup was to be used. However, there were so many sympathetic foreign spectators that someone purchased the poor wolf to spare its life. How it will manage in the wild of the coming winter in the mountains full of other hungry eagles is a good question. As cruel as some may think it is to hunt cute little foxes or wolves or rabbits and other small animals with an eagle instead of a rifle, we meat-eaters regularly kill deer, moose, elk for sport, and slaughter cows or cute baby lambs to eat. Eagle hunting has been a tradition in this part of the world for over 2,000 years.

Hand-embroidered Tus Kis were tempting

Beautiful “tus kis”, (hand-embroidered tapestries) used to decorate the ger walls were for sale.

Nothing goes to waste. In these deserts and high mountains, natives eat basically only meat just like the hunter/gatherers in Paleolithic times. Gathering winter pelts is part of the hunter/herder’s livelihood and still provides the warm clothing for the severe winters. Some of their beautiful coats were a testimony to their hunting success.

It made us feel better to learn that when the trained eagle has reached the age of about 10 years, she is taken to a mountain top, presented with a dead sheep as a going-away present and released to the wild to once again live a life of freedom and to breed.

The comical Camel Race 

The camel race was quite funny. A couple of them refused to budge.

All in all, a very exciting two days of a spectacle we could probably not see anywhere else in the world. Now it was time to make a new plan. As much as we would have liked to drive back to Ulaanbaatar, taking our time to visit some of the remote families herding their sheep, yaks, cows, horses, camels and goats along the way, and then heading for the Central Gobi desert to celebrate Monika’s birthday, The Turtle V needed some repairs on the rear suspension and a full check-up after its grueling 900-mile crossing of the Altai Gobi. The first step was to wash off the mud and dust. Clean trucks run better. An email to Hellwig Products in Visalia, CA, set our rescue mission for replacement parts in motion. We get emergency product support from all of our sponsors and Hellwig was a great example. A new bracket and bolts were in the express mail the next day.