Our tracks in Mongolia
Day 89 - Kosh Agach, Russia to Olgii, Mongolia
We didn't get an early start today, having stayed up late the night before with our new Russian motorcycle friends. As I was looking for a place to dispose of my old front tire outside the hotel, I ran into another Russian motorcyclist. He was also heading to Mongolia but was having trouble with his USB plug. Given all the help I'd received in Russia, I went back to my bike and gave him my spare USB port.
The three of us then rode together to the border on a cool and humid morning. There was already a long line of cars and trucks, but our Russian travel companion swiftly cut to the front, with us following close behind.
Customs and passport control on the Russian side took some time but went smoothly. We thought we were done when we showed our passports again to the exit checkpoint, but not so fast! The officer informed us that some of his "colleagues" wanted to speak with us, directing us back to a building. After a couple of hours of more waiting and questioning, they checked all the contacts on our phones for any military connections.
Thankfully, entering Mongolia was one of the easiest border crossings. And here we are, in Mongolia—the last new country of our journey! Frankly it felt good as well to be received with smiles and “Welcome to Mongolia!”.
I placed the last remaining flag sticker on my motorcycle BTW, one flew away last year, who can guess which country its was?
The landscape was lush with green hills and mountains as we crossed a pass at 2,600 meters. Needing more local currency and food to carry with us, we decided to continue on to the larger city of Olgii.
Mongolia is huge but has a population of just 3.3 million and if the capital city (1.7 M) is discounted, then Mongolia has a population density of 0.1 people per kilometer! A lot of emptiness then, especially in the West of the country, where we are.
I placed the last remaining flag sticker on my motorcycle 😎
Yaks showing us their flurry tails 🙂
Day 89 - 180 km
Day 90a - Mongolia stole our heart and kicked our ass
No water this morning in the hotel or maybe in the whole city. Hoping to get a shower before heading to the wilderness we decided to go for breakfast, hoping that water would be back by our return. It was 8:00am and the streets were eerily deserted. If it was not for a couple of city employees sweeping the streets, it would have been like one of these apocalypse movies. No café was open so we went back to the hotel. No shower, no breakfast but we are excited to go and discover the Park. The Altai Tavan Bogd National Park stretches along the Chinese border from the Russian border to 200 km south following the Altai Mountains. Unfortunately, you cannot travel in the Park without a Mongolian accompanying you and we didn’t feel like going in car with a group. Therefore, I’d planned a route that would take us a close a possible to the Park to enjoy the views of the mountains without going too much within the Park.
As soon as we reached the outskirts of Olgii we hit dirt roads and it was that way for days. We rode through a fairly narrow canyon that was gradually climbing. What a fantastic way to start the morning! We had few a slight “lassitude’ (lack of energy) in the last couple of weeks but all that disappeared this morning. A combination of great weather, nice scenery, but most importantly a feeling of adventure and freedom coming from riding completely alone in these dirt roads in an infinite landscape.
Once through the canyon we arrived at a vista overlooking the town of Sagsai and the huge valley that it was within. Towns here may look big from a distance because all the buildings are very far apart from each other. We continued to the second and last town, Tsengel, were we for gas and lunch since we had no breakfast in Olgii.
After Tsengel we followed a beautiful river valley with lush green grass and trees between us and the river’s edge. Unfortunately the road was in terrible condition, making it somewhat difficult to truly appreciate the scenery. We rode for some time, mainly standing, going further and further from civilization. The road was challenging at times as we crossed rivers and creeks passing through a number of yurt camps in the middle of nowhere. The scenery continued to be amazing throughout our entire journey that day.
Eery Olgii early morning, beautifully bleak
The scenery is opening up
2 homes and a corral for animals. There were tons of sheep poo and bones as well, but nobody around.
An ovoo, a Mongolian shrine or cairn, often found in a summit, like here
Our motorcycles got a lot of attention in Stengel
Only Adventure vehicles 😎
It was so beautiful that we stopped often
That section with the road following the river was particularly awesome
Yaks as our only companions
Interesting bridge construction
Encounter by a beautiful remote lake
All for us
The burial valley. There were many stone mounds like this one. The region has been inhabited by ancient civilizations.
I was in awe, riding towards that opening. The colors, the immensity.
River crossings became more frequent
We were surprised to see yurts so far away
Thanks Dirk for the picture!
Day 90 - 200 km
Day 90b - Mongolia stole our heart and kicked our ass
Navigating through this area stunning landscapes filled us with immense satisfaction and a sense of adventure. We felt incredibly fortunate to witness these remote places few outsiders ever see. In the last hour of our journey, our excitement was tinged with stress as we tried to follow barely visible tracks on what was now the equivalent of a pedestrian trail on our map. Our conversations went something like, “I think this way looks more traveled,” or “Oh no, I hope we don’t have to cross that river!”
At one point, the most visible track led us to a small yurt camp at 2,600 meters. Realizing it wasn’t the right way, we decided to ask for directions. A young man invited us into their yurt and served us "airag," the traditional fermented mare’s milk drink. It was acidic and refreshing, but a full bowl was a bit much for us. His wife brought out more traditional foods, including "aruul," a sun-dried curdled milk cheese.
Our host, a 25-year-old with five children, was very welcoming. After some time, we explained that we needed to continue our journey. As we prepared to leave, we saw a young man riding a small motorcycle at speed over the bumpy terrain, risking being thrown off. He gestured for us to wait and ran into a yurt, emerging with a teapot, hoping to invite us for tea. Appreciative but pressed for time, we politely declined and continued on our way.
Leaving the last yurt camp, the road deteriorated further. Eventually, the track disappeared, leaving us in a sloped grassy valley. Pushing forward, we soon found ourselves in a marsh. Riding became extremely difficult in the muddy water, and I got stuck. We unloaded my bike and, with much effort, managed to move it to drier ground. Surprisingly, even higher ground was wet, as if hundreds of small springs permeated the slope. We learned to distinguish the shades of green to avoid the water, but it was inescapable.
Dirk estimated that the surrounding rocky mountains looked much drier and he decided to try to circumnavigate the marsh along the edge and up the northern mountain, and made it to the edge of the marsh. To me, the only hope was somehow to reach the track on the map on the southern slope, as the locals must have picked the driest part to travel.
But there was the whole marsh to cut across first. I planned a route using gravity to gain momentum, navigating between rocks, water holes, and grass bumps. Mud flew as my motorcycle swerved side to side, but I miraculously kept moving until I reached a recessed creek. Trusting my instincts and applying lots of gas, I made it to drier ground, breathless.
Dirk’s path appeared easier from a distance but was filled with large, closely spaced grassy bumps and rocks. He hit a grassy bump and fell into a rocky crevasse, injuring his ribs. He called me with the intercom, and I walked across the marsh to help extract his bike. Half the bike was in a hole, and for the second time that hour, I wondered if we’d ever get out.
Sheer force (the little we have) did nothing when trying to pull the bike up so we finally managed to move the front wheel of the bike to a rocky ledge on the opposite side, got the bike upright and then squeezed it through a gap between two large rocks. Dirk decided to continue, hoping to reach camp before sunset. Despite good progress, he hit an impassable section of rocks. Exhausted, he parked his bike, grabbed his bags, and walked across the marsh to join me, planning to try again in the morning.
Meanwhile, I made two trips across the marsh to get my bags to my bike. I helped Dirk carry his bags at the very end, marveling at his ability to haul everything through such treacherous terrain. We set up our tents at dusk and, utterly exhausted, went to sleep without eating. At 2,800 meters (9,200 feet), we knew the night would be cold.
One of the 5 children with that great spread of food. What generosity!!
Drying the "aruul," a sun-dried curdled milk cheese
The yurts camp we've just left
Yacks again
I became hopelessly bogged down in the deceptively innocent grass meadow
It's like a river underneath that grass and it took a huge amount of efforts to get the bike out. Push from behind at your own risk!
My bike is somewhere at the foothill of the mountain on the other side of the valley
I couldn't believe how bad was the fall. The consequence could have been much worse 😱
My back and forth on a bike, then by foot, in motorcycle boots, in a marsh, and with bags 😄
Day 91: From the Marsh to Camping by Altai
The night was literally freezing, but Dirk’s real struggle was his painful ribs. Despite the rough night, we woke up to a brand new day with great weather, determined to escape this pit. After packing up camp, Dirk set off to retrieve his bike. His plan was to walk along a potential exit path and bring his motorcycle back to camp. From a distance, I watched him scout left and right, up and down. It was taking a long time and didn’t look promising, especially when he encountered a wide stretch of large rocks extending from the top of the mountain to the marsh flats.
With no other option, he decided to backtrack and rejoin the trail at the bottom, staying close to the mountain to avoid the mud. From across the valley, I finally heard his engine. I could barely see the bike moving forward until it stopped and started again a few minutes later. There was an uphill section to conquer, and then he was stuck for good. I received the dreaded satellite text: “I’m stuck, need help.” He was even further up than yesterday!
I hiked over to help push the bike, guiding him to a safer place before hiking back down. Along the way, Dirk met a shepherd on horseback, who was apparently shocked to see him there. Dirk managed to stay high enough to avoid the water and mud, and was very relieved when he finally saw the trail we had come in on. Unfortunately, a tricky section remained to reach it, and within a minute, he was up to the rear axle in mud and needed help to get free.
That was really far! As great as our boots are, they aren’t walking shoes, so I attached them to my backpack and started my hike down. But first, I wanted to reach the track marked on our map to see if it was the way to go, and yes, it did exist and was not too muddy!
I crossed a big marsh section before reaching Dirk, put my boots on, and then we freed his bike. I waited for him at the river crossing, acting as his beacon through the mud. Dirk gave it his all, hitting the bike’s rev limiter several times, but he made it to the other side of the river bank. Yeah!
He then followed the visible but in terrible condition path to the camp. Once I got back to camp we loaded the bikes and off we went. Hard to believe but it was already 4pm . We felt so relieved as the track must surely be better over the rise, just 200 meters away. Given the terrain we were both still concerned getting to the actual track with fully loaded bikes and it was indeed a tough challenge with more sliding and weaving.
But this was it, we were good now; we were almost at the pass. Not so fast. We encountered more terrible muddy sections and made the mistake of trying higher ground for drier terrain. I spun my bike once, which didn’t work out. No more excursions for escape routes; from this point on, we decided to follow the track, no matter how bad it was. Eventually, the road improved, and the fantastic scenery made us forget all the previous struggles.
The road descended into a valley with a lake and several yurts. Watching a couple of women collecting piles of cow dung, I reflected on the intellectual satisfaction of living in almost complete autonomy—getting energy, fabrics, and food from herds of animals. But I knew that in reality, it would be too hard for me, despite the wonderful scenery.
We rode along the lake, with children running from their yurts to wave hello. Several hours later, we finally made it to Altai. With no phone data and no hotel, we just got gas and kept going. We often seek adventurous roads, but with Dirk’s condition and the challenging days behind us, we analyzed the map for the easiest possible route to Khovd, the next city. However, in such a remote place, only rough dirt roads were available. The one we chose took us through a beautiful narrow river canyon, where we camped by the river in a very nice spot.
Brand new and bright day, our hopes are high!
Dirk finding its way at the edge of the mountain meets a shepherd on a horse, the only person we saw in 24 hours
We had to lay down DIrk's bike and you can see Dirk collecting stones to put underneath the wheel
Furry baby ☺️
The shepherd came back to check on us
Back to civilization 😄
Wild camels
Death Valley style mountains but with a lush river
It's so easy here to find a nice spot to camp
We enjoyed a nice, relaxing evening
General plan of the area. Day 90 - 70 km
Day 92: Camping by Altai to Khovd
This morning we took the time to enjoy a coffee, looking at the scenery and watching the water rush by. Dirk had again a difficult night and from previous experience he thinks that he had a couple of cracked ribs. The sky was cloudy for the first time since our arrival in Mongolia. It did not rain so that was not an issue but the light was not favorable for pictures.
The road to Buyant was not bad. We rode through numerous valleys with varying road conditions. Sometimes the road would be hard packed and we could make good time and at other times we were climbing up a rocky canyon in order to get to the next valley. There was no one. Those long days wrestling the bikes and camping without real food drain energy pretty quick.
The scenery was beautiful and constantly changing. It was incredible to think that such faint dirt roads connected the two main cities in the area! We climbed a bit and eventually reached a crest with a valley below. The descent was on a poorly maintained road that hadn’t been used recently. Once on the valley floor, the road improved until we reached a very faint set of tracks heading into a marshland . We had no choice but to press on, but thankfully, the water and mud were nothing like the previous days.
After a couple of hours, we ended up on the paved road from Olgii to Khovd. It felt wonderful to be back on smooth pavement. We rode towards Olgii for about 30 km to visit Lake Tolbo Nuur, then backtracked towards Khovd. The landscape was dominated by mountains, some dramatically rising from the valley floor. As we descended in elevation, the scenery around Khovd became much more desert-like, a stark contrast to the past two days.
We were again treated by impressive scenery
Lake Tolbo Nuur
Lake Tolbo Nuur, with the only habitations/resort on its shores
Day 92 - 300 km
Day 93-94 - Cracked Ribs and a Change of Plans: Resting in Khovd
With Dirk’s cracked ribs needing rest to heal, we decided to stay in Khovd for two days and three nights, then switch to pavement instead of our planned off-road route. We're both disappointed, but this isn’t the end of our journey like when I broke my ankle last year. We can still travel and discover new places. For now, the priority is Dirk’s recovery. Thankfully, we just had some fantastic and adventurous days in one of the best parts of Mongolia!
These two days of rest are much needed. We’ll use the time to rest, do laundry, and clean our bikes. Our riding gear was covered in mud and, judging by the smell, animal crap . The feeling of having clean gear after a month of off-road riding is indescribable. We were ecstatic! Our regular clothes were washed too, and since there was no self-serve car wash, we had someone clean our bikes perfectly. What a luxury!
Khovd, like all the cities we’ve seen in Western Mongolia, isn’t very attractive and is full of aggressive mosquitoes. However, after a couple of days, we found our rhythm and began to appreciate the central plaza and the decent-sized bazaar. People aren’t especially welcoming, but some made an effort to reach out. Since crossing the border, we’ve met only a few English speakers, making it frustrating to understand the culture better and limiting us to exchanges via Google Translate. We hope for better luck in Ulaanbaatar.
Each evening, we searched for the best places to eat in the neighborhood but found little choice. Big places with only one or two occupied tables were often discouraging. I wouldn’t recommend visiting Mongolia for its cities or food, but we managed to have decent meals at very low prices.
On the second day, we worked on our clean bikes. Luckily, there was little to fix on Dirk’s bike despite his crash into the rocks. With everything cleaned and fixed, we’ll be ready to hit the road tomorrow morning.
The daughter of the hotel's owner
Having someone wash your bike, especially when they are so filthy was pure joy 😄
In the series "view of the town from our hotel bedroom".
They go anywhere, carrying anything on these Chinese 150cc
Like in the Pamirs, containers are recycled as shops
The bazaar was pretty big and it's always fun to wander in its alleys
Day 95 - Khovd to Songino
In Khovd, I spent some time creating new routes to Ulaanbaatar that would be only on pavement due to Dirk’s injured ribs. We left town with nice weather and smooth pavement. Just 10 kilometers out, it was time to head northeast to meet up with the road that would take us directly east to Ulaanbaatar. Our map clearly indicated this as the “main highway,” but the road in front of us was dirt! Was this temporary road work? Was the whole road going north dirt? Was there only dirt roads between us and Ulaanbaatar?
It turned out that the entire road going north was dirt, and a very rough one at that, with severe washboard and deep gravel sections. After 40 kilometers, we tried a smaller road shortcut, thinking it couldn’t be worse than the main road. This held true for the first 4 kilometers until we encountered deep sand, much like in Baja California.
Our fully loaded adventure bikes weren’t meant for such conditions for another 150 kilometers, so we turned around. I tried going outside the trail, hoping the sand would be firmer, but it was worse. In the process, I dropped my bike. Lifting it in the sand required two people, which wasn’t good for Dirk’s ribs. Back on the track, I was overly cautious to avoid dropping the bike again, and my hesitation caused Dirk to drop his bike too! Not quite the day we had in mind on a "main highway" road.
Returning to the initial wider road, we dealt with the washboard and gravel, finding it still easier than sand. Despite the rough conditions, the scenery was quite enjoyable.
The road surface varied from washboard to rocky to fairly smooth, and at times we faced six or more tracks in front of us. They all led to the same place, but which was in the best condition? It was impossible to know. We continued like this for over 200 kilometers of dirt before finally reaching the pavement.
We rode more than 250 kilometers almost in a straight line as the surroundings changed to a desert landscape. We encountered several herds, including camels, perfectly at home in the environment. About 100 kilometers from Songino, sand was replaced with grass. Dark clouds loomed to our right and left, with rain and numerous lightning strikes, but we managed to ride between the storms with just a few drops of rain. We ended up at the only hotel in this very small town after quite a long day.
One of the softest sand I've experienced 😱 And outside the track it was even worse.
Big horizons. When the track was smooth like here, we were very happy about this road
It seems that everyone feels free to create his own parallel track around here
The only road post we saw in 250 km
Camels and stormy weather
Another tough section
You don't need a big trailer to carry 5 horses!
Obstacles on the road 🙂
Day 95 - 510 km
Day 96 - Songino to Tsetserleg
We left Songino under a beautiful clear sky, with green hills and tree-covered tops stretching across the landscape and distant mountains towards the south. Along the way, we noticed cars slowing down and two policemen pulling a few cars to the side. We were asked to do the same, which made us a bit anxious. However, one of the policemen ended up taking a picture of us and even took a selfie with me before letting us go without any further questions .
We continued riding through beautiful valleys, eventually reaching the village of Tosontsengel, almost 200 kilometers into our journey. Along the way, we saw many yurts, several camel herds, and more eagles than we’d ever seen before. We even spotted half a dozen giant vultures on the ground, some as tall as a two-year-old child, with more circling overhead.
Throughout the landscape, we noticed quite a few wooden structures shaped like teepees. These turned out to be “Ovoo”, traditional markers significant in ancient Mongolian belief and Buddhist ritual. They serve various purposes, from offering protection from natural disasters and safeguarding travelers to honoring sacred and spiritual mountains. We had previously seen Ovoo made of stones in the West, but here they were constructed with wood. Visitors wrap these structures with layers of offering silk, clothing materials, and religious flags as part of their rituals.
After leaving Tosontsengel, the valleys became narrower, resembling the scenic green meadows and streams of Western Montana. The road offered numerous curves, making the ride more enjoyable. We stopped for a break at the Chuluut Gorge viewpoint, taking in the stunning sight of the canyon carved out by the Chuluut River.
Beautiful morning to be in Mongolia!
The ovoo relates to ancient Mongolian belief, traditional worship, Buddhist ritual, and one of the ways to call people to protect and be proud of nature. It’s also called Creepy Teepee in the “Grand Tour Mongolia” 🙂. Most of them were on top of a hill. The reason there are many is that they can represent different things, like protection from natural disaster, protection for travelers or paying respect to a mountain pass or on the top of marvelous, sacred, and spiritual mountains.
Chuluut river and the first volcanic stones we've seen in Mongolia
Chuluut Gorge view point
One more "view from our hotel room", with the hero overlooking the rundown buildings
Day 96 - 550 km
Day 97 - Tsetserleg to Kharkhorin
Today was planned as a shorter riding day since we wanted to explore Kharkhorin and its surrounding sites. We always try to visit historic locations, but since leaving Uzbekistan, we hadn’t had the chance, which is crazy! Kharkhorin, once the capital of the Mongol Empire, offered the perfect opportunity. The city lies at the meeting point of the easternmost foothills of the Khangai Mountains and the rolling steppe of central Mongolia.
As we entered Kharkhorin, we quickly spotted a hotel—what luck! Although no one spoke English, Google Translate helped us understand that the hotel had no showers. However, they had another hotel with showers nearby, and a young man offered to lead us there. We followed his car through the town's bumpy backroads to a three-story building with no sign. The front entrance was unfinished, with concrete floors, typical of what we’ve found here—it’s often hard to tell if places are new but unfinished or already old and worn out .
There was no power, but we were assured that an electrician would come soon to restore it. Walking back through the dark corridor, Dirk remarked that it felt like the deserted halls in “The Shining”.
With our lodging secured, we headed to the Shankh Monastery. We were lucky to find it nearly empty and even got to witness a Buddhist ceremony in progress. About half a dozen monks sat across from each other, separated by an aisle, reciting chants. Temple-goers sat along the walls, holding grains given by a monk at the entrance. Out of respect, we didn’t take photos or videos.
After the ceremony, I chatted with some kids, a couple of whom spoke English. Our next stop was the phallic rock—a stone penis facing a green hillside meant to resemble a vagina, serving as a reminder of celibacy for monks .
We returned to the hotel to rest and wait for better lighting before heading to the Erdene Zuu Monastery. We had seen its impressive walls from a distance as we entered Kharkhorin, but we didn’t know what to expect. Only three of the original 60-plus temples were still standing, with most destroyed in the 1930s by the Mongolian communist regime.
Now an active monastery, much of the complex has been turned into a museum. We saw vibrant Buddha statues and other artifacts hidden during communist rule and revealed in the 1990s after its collapse. It was a fascinating and enjoyable visit!
Our final stop was the King’s Monument, perched on a hill overlooking Kharkhorin. This three-panel monument honors the Hunnu, Turkic, and Mongol periods of Mongolia. As promised we had a great view of the city but an even better view of the beautiful valley below.
Arriving at the Shankh Monastery. This secluded, atmospheric monastery was founded by the great Zanabazar in 1648 and is said to have once housed Chinggis Khaan’s black military banner. At one time the monastery was home to more than 1500 monks.
The main building of the Shankh Monastery
Cutes kids, from the same family I believe
It's so more fun when we can speak the same language!
The phallic rock statue has dual functions; primarily it is a reminder to the monks to remain celibate, but it is also a symbol of fertility and human life
The walls of the Erdene Zuu Monastery in Mongolia form a nearly square enclosure. The perimeter of the monastery's wall is approximately 420 meters on each side, giving a total length of around 1,680 meters.
The walls are about 7 meters high and are topped with 108 stupas, a number significant in Buddhism
Walled areas within the outside walls
Mahakala is among the Dharmapalas or “Defenders of the doctrine”. These are actually ghosts, demons and deities belonging to the old Tibetan tradition that have been converted or adapted from Padmasambhava to Buddhism. You can recognize them by their wrathful representations. Mahakala tantamounts to the Hindu deity Shiva
View on Kharkhorin. Hard to imagine that it was a major city in the past.
The King's Monument comprises three colourful mosaic panels that each represent the empires of the Hunnu, Turkic and Mongol periods
Day 97 - 170 km
Day 98 - Kharkhorin to Ulaanbaatar
Today, we rode across the rolling steppe of central Mongolia, surrounded by low green hills. The scenery was still beautiful, although a haze had settled over the area for the first time during our journey. As expected, traffic steadily increased as we approached Ulaanbaatar. Our only stop along the way was at Elsen Tasarkhai, a 70-kilometer stretch of sand dunes. The dunes themselves weren't very high, but the sheer length of the dune field was impressive. We saw many tourists, some riding camels on the dunes.
Arriving in Ulaanbaatar was a stark contrast to the serene landscapes we had traveled through. The city lives up to its poor reputation: horrible traffic started kilometers before we even reached the city limits, accompanied by smoke from factories and cars, and run-down suburbs. However, once we made it downtown, it felt like a completely different world—or perhaps even a different century compared to the rest of Mongolia. Modern buildings stood tall, elegant people filled the streets, and Western chains dotted the landscape (unfortunately). The traffic, however, remained as bad as in the outskirts.
We had reserved a hotel right by the Grand Chinggis Khaan Square, surrounded by plenty of restaurants and bars. That evening, we celebrated our arrival back to civilization.
Elsen Tasarkhai, a 70-kilometer stretch of sand dunes
A lively downtown
Day 98 - 370 km
Day 99 - Ulaanbaatar
Today was a busy day. We visited a great KTM shop to get our tires changed—ones I had reserved in advance. The service room was full and a bit messy, so they worked on our bikes outside. The mechanics were very capable, and now we're ready to continue our journey with three new tires—since the tire sent by our Russian friends is still in great shape.
Dirk spent some time researching hospitals where the staff spoke English, trying to get an X-ray and diagnosis for his injured ribs. After visiting a couple of places, he finally secured an appointment at a hospital for 1:30 PM the following day.
While Dirk handled that, I prepared several route alternatives depending on the results of his hospital visit. Our next destination is Lake Baikal, and we need to be flexible with our plans.
As has been common since we arrived in Mongolia, the afternoon turned cloudy, and heavy rain started. In Ulaanbaatar, like much of the country, there are no street drains, so water quickly accumulates during heavy rain, making walking through the flooded streets quite challenging!
We thoroughly enjoyed the wide variety of good restaurants in the area, a welcome change after the very limited options we had in the rest of Mongolia and Russia. It's really fun to go out in Ulaanbaatar because people here genuinely seem to enjoy themselves. The bars and restaurants are filled with laughter and a lively atmosphere. It's a refreshing change from Russia, where many people seemed gloomy, or even Central Asia, where people were kind but more reserved.
We imagined that the city's long, freezing winters (with temperatures ranging from -20 to -40°C / -4 to -40°F) might make people even happier to be out and about during the warmer summer months.
Tire changing at the KTM shop
The very impressive Grand Chinggis Khaan Square, in Ulaanbaatar
No drains = big puddles
Day 100 - IT’S OVER!
This morning started with dark clouds, but no rain, so we decided to visit the Narantuul Market, the largest open-air market in Mongolia. Known informally as the "Black Market" from Communist times, it now functions like a regular bazaar. You can find almost anything here, from traditional Mongolian attire and household items to electronics and souvenirs.
We especially enjoyed exploring the section dedicated to gers (yurts), where you could buy everything needed to assemble your own. Considering the thousands of gers we've seen in the countryside, it's definitely a big market here.
In the afternoon, Dirk went to the hospital for his appointment with an orthopedic surgeon. After examining him, the doctor ordered a CT scan that revealed not only two cracked ribs but also a third rib that was clearly broken, with a big gap between the bones.
The doctor urged us to stop the trip immediately due to the risk of the injury not healing properly and, even worse, potentially puncturing Dirk's lung. How Dirk managed the pain this past week is beyond me; it's truly remarkable and shows just how much he wanted to continue this journey!
We can't take such a risk, so we're ending our adventure right now. We're disappointed but proud to have made it to Ulaanbaatar. We've experienced intense adventures, enjoyed stunning landscapes, and discovered cultures that will undoubtedly change in the next 10-20 years. The world is evolving quickly, and some of the aspects we love the most are disappearing. We're immensely glad we took this journey!
Welcome to the Narantuul Market, the largest open-air market in Mongolia
The number of "stores" is mind blowing! It's organized by section so there will be for example dozen of people selling fabrics in the same area
It's getting fancy! Now the crown can be a "window" instead of open air
Dirk contemplating building a yurt in his backyard in San Francisco
The crown and the door have to match, of course
The main walls cover is that natural felt, still smelling like sheep
Dirk taking the bad news from the hospital with philosophy
What a great companion Dirk was for these 100 days together 🙌🏻
First trip, that was me, this one it's Dirk. Such is the price to pay for real Adventure
Now what?
I’ve been getting questions about our next steps, so here are the answers . The fact that Dirk bravely rode all the way to Ulaanbaatar made things much easier from a logistics standpoint, as this was our planned final destination from the beginning. I had already arranged for our motorcycles to be shipped back to France from here—huge thanks to my sister Brigitte and her husband Marc for receiving and storing them!
Originally, the shipping was scheduled for the second half of August. But as soon as Dirk texted me from the hospital with the bad news, I contacted the German shipping company to inform them of our change in plans. They were very responsive and hopeful that their Mongolian partner could have the wooden crates ready by Monday (yesterday). Knowing that things can go awry, we booked flights for a few days later—mine to France and Dirk’s to San Francisco.
We bought some large bags to carry our luggage and riding gear, making sure to weigh everything to comply with airline regulations.
On Monday morning, we anxiously reached out to Mongolian Express, wondering if they were indeed ready for us. To our delight, everything went smoothly! We completed all the paperwork and had it notarized in the morning. By mid-afternoon, the carpenter had finished the crates, and we loaded the bikes into them. It felt surreal to see our bikes secured in their “coffins” and loaded into a container. The journey will take a couple of months, first through China and then by ship to Germany, before being trucked to France.
With the logistics sorted out, we could finally relax and enjoy Ulaanbaatar, exploring its many restaurants (mostly Korean!) and some monasteries.
Making sure that our luggage is not over the limit
A carpenter build these panels, now they're putting together the boxes
Let's hope they'll arrive in good shape
Our 2 motorcycles will wait in this container for more travelers' bikes
Gandantegchinlen Monastery
