Bayankhongor was at the southern end of an extensive east west mountain range. We spent two enjoyable days camping by a delightful river just outside the town. Despite having to cross the river on the Mule four times it did not get easier. The river was fast flowing 30cms deep and 20m wide with slippery loose rocks to boot. But that was nothing! The track gradually wound its way up this deep wide valley for more than 50kms. The entire valley floor was glacial deposits consisting of loose round rocks and it made for a slow, arduous ride for all. We crossed the river more than thirty times that day. There was no point in thinking about remaining dry. This was one of those days where being wet and cold was the norm. The track went up and over a pass at 8,000 feet. The wind was freezing and changed direction when we began the decent. It was a cold bleak landscape that made me wonder how the local herders who lived here survived these conditions. After 3 hours of negotiating the rocky track that followed the glacial floodplain, it panned out into a wide valley floor where lots of Gers indicated a healthy community with large herds of goats, horses and sheep. A wide river crossing was the large straw for me. Three of the guys had tried to cross the river when I arrived with considerable difficulty. One of the BMW's had become bogged in the middle of the river because of the slippery small river bed rocks. It was now 8pm and the remaining three of us decided to make camp in a beautiful tree lined floodplain. The others pushed on to Tsetserleg which was more than 2 hours further down the valley. It rained, snowed and blew but a big bon-fire kept us warm for 2 days.
During the next 6 days we rode west and then NW towards Olgii which was just a half day's ride from the Russian border. The landscapes changed every day and it became more arid exposing some beautiful regolith formations and stunning views. It reminded me of the mountains I had seen in the Atlas Mountains in Morocco and those in Oman. Deep gorges and fast flowing rivers. The landscapes were very exposed and quite awesome. The tracks were rocky, rutted and severely corrugated making the ride very difficult and tough on the Mule's suspension. It was slow going and I spent most of the two days ride in second gear. With many patches of soft sandy granite soils, it was nightmare on the heavily laden BMW's and we all agreed that we were finding the limits of the bikes constantly.
The local Mongolian people never ceased to amaze me with their warm friendly and inquiring nature's. One night whilst camping by a fast flowing river a family appeared at about 9 pm with a bag of cow manure and some kindling to start a fire for us for there was a cold wind blowing and it was difficult to shelter behind a few low shrubs. Two women seemed to take the initiative and started the fire in two minutes. The locals were all fascinated with the bikes, our equipment and general camp site wherever we went. They would always ogle over the BMW's because few had never had the opportunity to see these new bikes before. Locals had many bikes as they were the main form of transport. However they were predominantly Chinese 150cc or Russian 350cc two strokes. They were astute riders and usually traveled with at least one pillion. We watched them cross a very fast flowing river with considerable skills. The BMW's being much heavier were always difficult to get across the rivers.
Olgii was a provincial capital and largest town we had seen since Ulaanbataar. The guidebook recommended the Black Wolf Ger Camp. It was very basic but after 8-9 days of camping, sleeping in a beautifully decorated Ger was sheer bliss.
To date everyone had experienced multiple falls but to their credit no serious damage had occurred to either the bikes or ones health. I think we were all quietly thankful that we had got through the majority of Mongolia without any serious mishaps bar bruised and swollen ankles and dented panniers from numerous falls. I was the only one to become trapped under the Mule. With such long legs it was difficult to get the damn things out of the way in time before going over in soft sand. I had learned much about riding in these harsh conditions. It was also a sobering lesson as to how dangerous it would have been to attempt to ride through remote Mongolia solo .