Ust Kan to Kosh Agach

The nite wasn’t too cold – always concerned with the “little battery that could” having a bad day.

One of the more emotionally stirring 'Great Patriotic War' memorials

The guesthouse I stayed in had filled up with truckers and in the AM there was a bit of, ahem, noise as they went about their ambulations and ablutions. The funniest thing was that THEY waited for it to warm up more than I. At 9:30 my suspension was stiff, my saddle rock hard and the tires granitic from the cold. But off we went toward the Russian-Mongolian border crossing at Tashanta.

Approaching the Altai Mountains passes got higher, valleys deeper

The road was quite good and the scenery excellent. With a lack of morning fog I managed to be warmed by the sun fairly soon.

Fewer and fewer leaves on the trees reminded me to press on . . .

I stopped for lunch at Atkash at a very unimpressive looking cafe that served unimpressive shorba soup and goulash of unimpressive quality with impeccably unimpressive service. Oh well, it’s about the road, not the food.

There was something about this 'Gateway to the Altai' . . .

As I neared Koch Agach it seemed quite reasonable to make for the Mongolian border crossing and get to Bayan Olgai. This would be a fantastic achievement, putting me in Mongolia on Sunday nite. Most of the altitude and snow threats would be behind me. The little battery that could would generally be in a warmer place . . . hurray !

Wookies in full winter suits . . .

So I used most of my remaining Roubles to buy benzine and headed for Russian Immigration & Border control. I was checked for documentation 50km from the border and ushered onward. Unfortunately at the border the store was . . . closed. At 4:30 ! So to make a long, somewhat angry, definitely frustrating story short – I returned 40 miles to Koch Agach to look for a room and hope it didn’t get too cold at 6500′.

Late day color on a 6500' elevation salt marsh near the Mongolian border

Now able to recognize the Cyrillic for “hotel” I managed to find a simple place with the help of some Russian telecom workers. A short trip to a local store secured sustenance and I managed not to share too many vodka shots with the gregarious and generous Russians who were happy their work was over.

Monday . . . Mongolia.