Blog 9. 
Casualties.

Mon 11^th. Aug

Got up, took the bearings out of my bike. While doing so, Kev discovered why his bike wouldn’t start last night. He found a loose connection behind the ignition.

We went from motor factors to engineering shop to bearing shop by taxi, a barely running Lada and eventually found the right size bearings. These, at 100 roubles (€2) are sealed bearings and far more substantial looking than the ones we’d removed that had done 1000 kms, so I bought 6, to be sure, to be sure. J

Kev towed me and we got the bike to start but it wouldn’t idle. I did the usual check of the choke cable but all was ok. I took the carb out and found a layer of mud in the bottom of the bowl.

It was mid afternoon and our hosts from last night’s party arrived to bring us to a food tasting event. I let the lads go, cleaned the carb as completely as I could and put everything back together. It started on the kickstart and idled for a while.

I found a loose chain cover bracket and hoped that this might have been the source of yesterdays rattle, though I wasn't fully convinced. It’s not a quiet engine at the best of times and I wondered if I was I imagining it being noisier than usual.

The minimal non bike clothes I’d brought were, by now, embarrassing so I took the opportunity to go buy some replacements and dumped the originals.

We later met Misha, who we hadn’t partied with last night, in Harat’s Irish bar. His friend is a bar tender there and we indulged a little.

A long way from there.

Tue 12^th Aug. & Wed 13^th. Aug

We awoke to a morning, nicer outside than in our heads. We had breakfast, loaded up and headed on our way.

Kev gave me a tow and by the time we’d left town the bike was idling perfectly and the battery was charged. I still wasn’t comfortable with the engine sound. It was full of oil and water, so there was little I could do.

As we covered some distance, it was definitely getting worse. Our plan was to ride to Irkutsk, through Ulan Ude. We changed to plan to riding to Ulan Ude and getting the bike on a train.

The wobble from work wheel bearings was also starting to reappear.

When Kev ran out of petrol a little later, I said that I didn’t think the bike would make it to Ulan Ude. It was decided that we’d ride 3 kms to the next petrol station and approach a truck driver. The bearings I was worrying about were fine. My front tyre was punctured. With only 3 kms to go, we decided not to fix the puncture. I was, therefore, riding slowly when the back wheel locked up, 300 metres before the petrol station. End of the Russian road for the 640. L

By the time Kev had towed me to the petrol station, Gary had convinced a truck driver, Sasha, to take me and the bike.

Once loaded, he told us he wouldn’t be leaving for 2 hours. He was waiting for a friend and minding a trailer for him. No problem.

We discussed dumping the bike but…..

1. It’ll be worth close enough to the cost of getting it back.
2. It’s temporarily imported and if not removed from the country, attracts huge import duty, which would be payable if I was ever to return.
3. It’s one of the only bikes in the world to have completed the Eastern Bam. J

Sasha has no English and I’ve about 4 words of Russian. He didn’t seem to care. His friend arrived 5 ½ hours later and it was decided not to travel. We went into the adjoining café to eat and, naturally, a bottle of vodka was produced. Sasha insisted on paying for my food, even though he was doing me the favour.

I slept that night in a Daf 95 belonging to another guy, Sania, as it has 2 bunks. In the morning, we headed off, 12 hours later than initially planned.

The roads aren’t great and Sasha’s truck is an ancient American Freighliner bull nosed truck. We definitely spent more time in 1^st gear than in top. How did Gary pick the slowest truck in the country. For my added comfort, somebody had bolted on an aftermarket ashtray right where my left knee was bouncing like a kangaroo, due to the ancient suspension.

There followed two days of such luxury in near silence. I dozed much of the time. When we stopped to eat the next day, I insisted on paying by credit card as I had almost no cash. The terminal recorded “invalid pin”. I definitely put in the correct pin the second time but the same message came up. It was decided not to pin-lock the card by trying it a third time. Sasha paid again. Slightly embarrassing! I said “Bankomat ?” which is Russian for ATM. That’s one of my 4 words.

I rang AIB credit card centre to be told my card was fine, carry on.

Later, Sasha stopped outside a shop where there were 2 bankomats. One was plugged out. One gave me back my card and when I went to try again, the guy next to me stopped me. I don’t know what was on the screen but I took his advice. Now, how the hell do I explain in sign language that my card’s ok but the 2 bankomats aren’t. Getting more embarrassing. Sasha paid for food later.

While the cars and houses are improving as we move West, with fewer old Ladas, some European brands and even a few Mercs, this is still a divided country. Travelling through villages, there were tables outside houses with a head of cabbage or a bucket of sprouts for sale. As it started to get dark, I spotted an elderly lady sitting alone outside her house with a bucket of berries of some sort in front of her. A saddening sight.

I had plenty of time to notice such things. I also noticed a long fissure in the ground not too far from the road outside Ulan Ude. It was about 10 to 20 metres wide, had sharp edges and I can only assume it was the result of an earthquake.

That evening, the trucks separated and Sania in the Daf and I ate together. This café didn’t accept cards so Sania had to buy my food. Most of the staff and customers looked Asian. I asked and we’re, apparently, only about 1500 kms from the Chinese border around here.

I spent my second night luxuriating in hotel Daf, while the lads, having reached Irkutsk, were slumming it in the Marriott. Hmmm.

I learned by text that, on the way from Ulan Ude to Irkutsk, Kev had avoided a diesel spill but watched in his mirror as Gary, not having seen it, slid off the bike at 80 kph. The bike slid towards a car coming in the opposite direction. The driver took avoiding action and, as a result found himself heading towards Gary on the ground, who had to roll out of the way to avoid being rolled over. Phew. He and the bike were fine and they continued on, unscathed but, I’m sure, a little shaken.

Thur 14^th Aug.

The next day, the trucks rejoined and we had breakfast together. I went to pay and the card was refused again. Sasha brought me to the shop area of the same place and I bought a 40 cent chewing gum successfully on the card.

While it would appear to the suspicious among us (everybody) that he wanted to reassure himself that I wasn’t lying and taking advantage, I know from his demeanour that he wanted me to know that I wasn’t going to be stuck. From watching him chat with the others and the way he’d point stuff out to me, I know he’s a good natured, positive guy.

We got to Irkutsk around 3 p.m. and took my bike to a pre-arranged shipping company, before heading to the hotel.

A standard hotel room with a standard bathroom, this was luxury by comparison with where we’d stayed and washed to date. I commandeered the bath for a long soak. Half the deep brown tan I’d acquired during the trip ended up forming a line around the edge of the bath, once drained.

I again had problems with my Visa card and, initially unhelpful, AIB Credit Card Centre, were eventually coerced into sending emergency cash by Western Union overnight.  

We celebrated nearing the end of our adventure in Harat’s Irish pub (yes, another) until the early hours, the sensible among us going home at 2 a.m., the singer among us regaling until 5 a.m.

Fri 15^th. Aug

The next morning I went to collect my emergency cash. While there, the lads would bring their bikes to the shipping company. While processing the paperwork, I got a call from Kev. My cash wasn’t the only emergency.

While bringing the bikes from the underground hotel carpark into the bright light, the less bright Gary saw the barrier late as his eye adjusted to the changed light conditions. Heavy braking, dusty sand and he hit the deck hard, the bike landing and twisting on his left leg.

I arrived to find him, almost in tears, writhing is serious agony in our room, waiting on an ambulance.

Gary, in agony, torn ligaments, broken ankle, broken leg and broken wrist.

 He’d badly broken his left ankle, torn the ligaments in the ankle and broken his right wrist. It turns out he’d also broken another bone in his left leg but that wasn’t found until he got to Tallaght Hospital in Dublin.

Kev and I brought the bikes to the shipping company while Gary was in hospital. They offered to operate in the hospital but he wasn’t impressed so opted to be plastered up and have the work done when he got home.

Gary, on his return to the hotel from the hospital.

You can’t keep a bad man down. Though still in significant pain, the end of the trip had to be marked. We returned to Harat’s but the pain got to Gary and he opted to go home early at 2 a.m. this time leaving us to entertain the locals until 5.

Having worked in the past with the Irish Wheelchair Assoc, I offered to use my skills to wheel Gary out to a taxi. It’s been a while and my coordination may have been slightly impaired but, on wheeling him down some steps, the wheelchair unbalanced and Gary ended up dumped out of it onto the pavement. Oops, I’m hoping that’s not where the previously undetected extra break came from.

Sat 16^th Aug.

We arose after 2 ½ hours sleep for breakfast and on to the airport to face 3 flights over 20 hours before we arrive in Dublin at 10.30 p.m.

Gary’s pain grew as his leg swelled in flight. We cut some of the cast to relieve the pressure. We befriended Olga, a Russian lady, married and living in Germany who was delighted to practice her English. She, in turn, used her Russian to get Gary the easiest possible passage through the airports.

We made it home with no further drama, except to find that our bags were still in Moscow but, then, you’d have been surprised if it were otherwise. J

On our return to Dublin Airport.

Five and a half weeks ago, five bikes and five riders left, seeking fun and adventure.

Two and a half bikes and two and a half riders completed the trip, 

having fully achieved both objectives!