Totherocktour completed // 30 days of Adventure Cycling // leaving South Korea and riding North America to the Rockies //

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Post by Brian Perić.

Mongolia X Journal 17 // There is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. – The Buddha // Nomads, Gers and Happiness

The Buddha – “There is no way to happiness  Happiness is the way.”

After visiting the Nomads at Eden, I left with experiences from the edges of the Earth. Family life is centered in their Ger tent, the steel pot stove is their hearth, warmth and life is a shared experience here, not broken, not compartmentalized like it is in cities, houses, apartments and the concrete blocks where most people now live. We turned back the clock, summer time in Mongolia is set on the Sun’s two revolutions of two months I traveled and the world continued to spin memories and experiences webbed into the grains of my mind. I have seen a family each passing day, along grassy plains where the Earth’s strata is worn thin in a series of months when goats, sheep, yak and horses tramp and feed while the green warmth of summer snaps a glimpse back at the world.

I visit a family, the children run wild and happy and carefree barefoot, the mother takes her youngest to her breast to feed, the children have a red ball we kick around outside for friendly soccer, the husband returns leaving his grazing flock of goats and sheep to pasture, lights a cigarette and relaxes at the back of the Ger on carpet mats, behind him are ornately carved and brightly colored wooden chests containing the family possessions, a picture frame holds important family memories, friends and a few distant locations locked in time. I sit to the left, leaving my shoes over the linoleum mat at the entrance of the Ger,. Sitting and taking swills of  “chai woo”, a salted goats milk with herbs boiled in a large kettle pot above the steel stove, the pipe penetrates skyward and leaves a stream of white smoke signals that the family is home for the evening. The father leaves, takes his horse into the night. The children gather round the fire, it’s stoked by their mother, long black hair and chiseled features, arms of daily work carved and suntanned, they prepare noodles, rolling and cutting dough in strips, she adds a potato and onion that are hashed and added to the boil, we sip goats milk and they add to mine when it runs low. The sky darkens outside, winds wisp the pot stove chimney, and plastic tarps crack against the felt roof covering of the Ger. Night arrives and I go outside, to see stars, watching out for the dogs, a yelp in the night.  I retire for the rest of the night under headlamp to read and scribble notes into pages and mark the day on my map. The cycle and cycle of daily life traveling in Mongolia is good.

I am headed northwest, clicking the chain along cassettes and cogs with 175mm crank arms supporting revolutions, it’s steady as I bump along, these Ortlieb Classic panniers clunk against the aluminum flat racks. I’ve tied the rope that Mining entrepreneur Egee Enkhbat had given me after leaving his camp near Tuul River. I severed the rope in equal lengths and tied the panniers to the racks to stop the slap and constant collision with the carriers I’ve built using simple aluminum attached with steel U-bolts, and dozens of industrial PVC zip ties. After 4000km of Asia, my equipment is enduring well.  Names like Ortlieb, Mavic, Schwalbe, North Face, Sony, Topeak, and Arteryx among others provide the water-proofing, the reliable wheel turns, tires impenetrable to burrs and broken glass piles around the Ovoo, a reliable tent, cameras that recharge while I ride, a handy Alien tool, and the Goretex exterior that originated with Rob Hill on the 7 summits series around the world, it now provides what little protection I have from wind, rain and biting flies, I use it as a survival jacket for all conditions. Stretches of grass toward the horizons rise or fall, with 40,000 meters of mountain altitude change ahead, I track towards Siberian borders where a fresh water lake awaits. Maps and GPS guiding lights during 8 hour days of movement, tracking and trekking over mountain peaks on foot, it’s too steep to cross over on 18 or 20% grades when I am reaching the peaks.  While far removed as this location is in Mongolia from the meandering bends and smooth pavement that is familiar inside the Himalayas, this course is brutal. I enjoy mountain bike travel and seeing these scenes, meeting Nomads in their environment, so I soak up the majestic vistas over plateaus while delaying pains of traveling the harsh dirt course. I dream of McDonald’s coming around the the next bend, it isn’t happening. No western oasis, just a herd of goats crossing my path northward, a lone rider on his horse who raises an arm like a toothpick pointing to the blue skies, swirling white pillow clouds wisp away and I turn facing the sun, the mighty glow of power too distance to show the end of this brief journey. I have time for two sun revolutions to reach the far west of Mongolia, and energy stored up in 15kg of extra body weight I gained since last winter, I have protein and vitamins, hydration powder as well, a few chunks of “arroz” cheese and feel no hunger here, no matter how long I ride. When the sun sets, the dirt tracks grow wild, shadows and holes, I come to the end of a page and turn out the lights somewhere beyond the tracks, to stealth camp, where stars light up the scenes of rolling terrain, takhi horses appear and disappear where they came, rare to see,  while domestic horses run together thoroughbreds with glistening hair and spring in every step. Another day has passed me, a day before with Mongolian Nomads, a day later camped remote with moonlight and rocks around my perch between mountain peaks. I light up the orange dome of my North face Tadpole 2 wearing against the weather, nightly rain patters outside and winds whip the rain cover until I go outside and tighten the stakes. I read a few pages from the Lonely Planet guide identifying places that I missed, or places I will discover ahead. I look forward to the next province, the next destination, more calculated risk, the unexpected happiness and the hard graft of getting from here to there – begins again tomorrow.

Up ahead is another civilization, a place with connections to the outside world. I will update my family, reconnect with mobile signals and find some ice cream and beer. Between the start a week ago, what I have witnessed is the way human civilization hasn’t changed mostly in centuries. This sustainable nomadic life is tough, beautiful and better connected to the life pulse of Earth without destroying it. Here scattered in empty grasslands, doors are unlocked, families are out and about with their daily work. Here I have my own job to do as I navigate alone, sometimes I feel lonely witnessing the tremendous connections in these families, but I have family of my own elsewhere in Asia, and here I am welcomed too.

Happiness is the way, I think Buddha was definitely right. Thank you for visiting the X Journals from Mongolia!   I wrote these journals while traveling overland in Outer Mongolia by mountain bike.
More adventure is coming soon!!!! (:

Mongolia X Journal 13 // Where the pavement ends // Riding Northwest

I survived some very rough sections of dirt roads. Today, I will try and reflect on what is beautiful about life. Cycle touring only fills a small percentage, or two months of my years in Korea. Family is beautiful in so many of it’s compositions: couples, newly weds, one child, or multi-child units. I come from a family of 5 siblings, twin elder sisters (Beth and Chris), a younger brother (Steve) and sister (Nancy). Living in my family unit growing up started my world of adventures. My parents wanted to give us the world through North American road trips. We camped most of the time with the occasional mechanical breakdown, we stayed in Super 8 Motels across the central and eastern United States. Growing up traveling in the summers and winters starting from Canada was a lucky break. Today, I sit and reflect on past travels in America while camping out beside Steppe tracks of Outer Mongolia, which is really – a long way from where I started out.

I’ve left the Herder hauling dirt’s lot, he had a log home build from big northern Mongolian timber adding an addition to the main building, a wooden barn used for his various equipment and welding tools, and he was industrious too – a handyman, jack-of-all-trades and well known to many in his small town. We rolled through the dirt roads between tracks of tall wooden fences, everything was painted maroon as a weather-beater paint on these divisions of permanent Mongolian settlement. It was only possible to see in with an invitation to stay from a local. Since I hitch-hiked into town with the dirt load, we toured first and caught the eye of his local friends, this was great -really rolling cool into a totally different neighborhood in Central Asia with my host. I can appreciate the generosity of being offered sheep head, onions and potatoes -this was a real treat. I ate a tongue cooked tender along with muscles from all around the lower jaw, delicious.

When I left town, I found an ATM and stocked up on Mongolian Turguts and turned out onto 100km of pavement today. What I didn’t see ahead of me on that smooth as the Silk Road were swarms of seething flies again. So, today was cut short, some dirt track and about 20km out on blacktop pavement and the heat attracted swarms of flies, big and small and all hungry for cruising sheep on bikes, like me! Since there were no herds in the immediate area, I was game for horse fly bites, and the gnat flies that like to drink my sweat. It’s tolerable until they start doing tumbles into your face and eyes, then all hell breaks loose on the side of the road with the Tilley Endurable T3 hat which I normally wear as an all purpose sunscreen and fly hammer to swat and kill as many flies as I can. It’s a little insane in the heat to have to stop the cycle and kill, but the other option is being eaten alive, I take what precautions I can without the DEET. Next time, bring mosquito repellent to Mongolia (mental note).

Finally, this early afternoon I have camped with the paved roadside still in sight. I pushed the Lynskey mountain bike up the hillside, grassland is nicely cut by roaming herds of domesticated sheep, goats, horses around here, over the hills are probably Ger camps, as Mongolians are living in many remote pockets of the rolling terrain, you might see them about anywhere here, or none at all for hours on the bike.

Camping out, relaxing, and recording. It’s great to wipe away the early days sweat with wet napkins, change clothes, and snuggle into a sleeping bag on the Thermarest mattress:  this is peace – even though it’s just past noon and I haven’t made enough progress, I am still loaded with 5 liters of water, good for the night.

Little did I know, the Korean trio that I shared my route with (Hak Jun, June and Chris) are now competing with me now to cross Mongolia, Wow, what a wonder since they are pursuing a $9500 book writing contract while I am just riding to support educational non-profit foundations and see more of the world from a mountain bike. They are riding mountain bikes, Korean models with two Chinese carrier racks I modified custom and assembled myself – to help them do it. What’s amazing – helping others and having them compete with you immediately afterwards with the route map I shared with them to assist them. Well, it is worth the experience to remember who I helped, why I helped them – and that’s important to me right now.

I awoke at 1200 am and decided under moonlight with a cacophony of  flies now departed for their sleeping holes, I put the bicycle back on the road to complete the fastest stage of the entire expedition. 80km more pavement was waiting out there, swiftly I was rolling smooth, probably apart from leaving Ulaanbaatar, the only place I could roll without putting less than 1 horse of human power to get to the next destination, which is another patch of arid, sandy soil Steppe grassland to camp. There isn’t ‘development’ out across here, but I do come across towns that punctuate long paragraphs of roaming landscapes.  I am determined to keep moving, to make more progress to get across Mongolia solo by mountain bike.

Time and pressure, is the trepidation building before taking the expedition.  I have a great deal of freedom to be in this situation, nobody leading the way except me and nobody sent me here – I roam alone supported by my wife on occasional text messages and friend support who have donated their time, interest, equipment (SFC Tim Copeland) and a donation already (Malcolm Wesley Wrest sending me off with money for the bus ride home when I return to Korea) and Don Erwin at Lynskey Performance, USA. These supports are integral to success in Mongolia. It helps if you have a team, it can have implications on how you cope, even if you cannot connect while riding through the unknown. These scattered text messages (Malcolm, James Penlington, Mi Sung) are important, I keep them on the SIM card for moral support.

I rolled for about 4 hours (80 kilometers) and this was amazingly smooth sealed blacktop heaven. At the end of the pavement the road ends, drops off into the dirt tracks which continue across Mongolia. It’s crazy to be cycling in two worlds, one mostly undeveloped – just beat down dirt, rocks and Earth soil and sand and the other is one I am familiar to in North America, China or Korea – pavement made from either concrete or stone and tar sealed roadways. If you are looking for pavement, don’t come to Outer Mongolia.

I camped wild eyed at a full moon washing over the rolling landscapes, I past the town in a few minutes silently, only a few dogs barked breaking total silence and no flies buzzed in my ears – heavenly. At the end of this pavement, I went to the side of the tracks and pitched the Northface tadpole 2, my home away. After a catnap for a few hours, a golden sun opened the blue horizons. I jumped up about 700 am today and look,   – there were the 3 Korean amigos! It was a surprising coincidence to meet there because they had stealth passed my tent on the side of the paved road without  ‘hello’ while the swarms of flies had driven me into my tent. I was delighted to see them again, they looked – disappointed. I sent June back into town to collect a few liters of water from the store since they have stocked up and stayed in town themselves.

In Korea, my occupation directly involves teaching adolescents in a university – and while on adventure I try and lend a hand of support (4 hours of rack drilling/modification and assembly – done!) and of course, I worked hard to travel overland in Mongolia and saved for this – without return to Canada in over 6.5 years. Supporting my family, my students, my wife and children and then following a road to a big adventure. I will turn 40 in January 2013.  So, this journey is important as it is for others trying to realize the same dream.

Well, I spent a few minutes with the trio and learned about their battle through the flies on pavement (yes, I was there too, I know this!), but they never mentioned seeing a bright orange tent beside the road. They were preoccupied with making their own journey at the expense of their parents – for the Korean guidebook.

I left them behind for the last time today, following the GPS through the sparse grass fields and along the dirt tracks. The Koreans I met faded to grey specks and disappeared into the rough terrain behind me now.

Ahead is a new day. Luckily, after an hour before crossing a river with a checkpoint before the long concrete bridge, I find this amazing diner – brand new place with gleaming glass windows and Art Deco design using concrete for the the structure and wide and tall modern glass as the side of the wall looking out to a miniature desert. It was out of this world, and a good menu too. I had ridden through some of the roughest terrain and up and over the small desert to an oasis today, another Eden. Amazing. Here, I am just writing to relax, unwind and re-hydrate salted goat milk chai tea and fresh water while I sip soup by the bowl and chow these flat, fried noodles mixed with onions and potato, mutton and chunks of fat  in my bowl. I’m lucky to be alive today, I’m lucky to be traveling in Mongolia unlike other travels, there are no tarmac roads pointed in this direction, you need a compass and a GPS to follow these tracks. Life is – something truly unexpected.

Thanks for reading my journals written while traveling overland in Mongolia on a mountain bike. More adventures are coming soon!!!    Later, I will include a equipment report, one reader commented and asked about what equipment I am using and how the Lynskey titanium mountain bike performed this summer. The equipment is listed in the links above, and all details on equipment performance, maintenance and picks (what I liked, what I would leave behind, what I will bring next time) will be shared in the final print/ebook being developed right now away from these pages. Thank you all for visiting the Korean-World blog. (:

Mongolia X Journal 11 // Bones in the Earth // Long Haul Trucking north of Tuul River //

[Photo sequence north of Tuul River region, a long day tailgating the long-haul trucker and bones in the Earth]

There are always interesting Mongolian characters crossing paths in the tracks, these lonesome highways of the Nomadic ones. There are a few permanently-built establishments along empty plains and mountain lines that slip in and out of the horizons. Those few whom have chosen to remain in a single location have made it permanent outside handful of Mongolian urban collectives.Here I found a highway roadhouse, a wooden ship in the open sea, that caters to overland Nomads and some truckers carrying Ger accessories, non-perishable food supplies across one section of the Steppe to the next. The roadhouse is simple, open windows painted bright blue without window panes to stop the wind in summer, green grassland is not far from our wooden table built with wood planks that were milled directly outside a forest. They are serving meat, fat and handmade noodles. Relaxing here with the road truckers, we have been pacing about the same with slow climbs and sweeping descents which I can pass them on. No mechanical problems at all today, very happy about that. Visited a Mongolian Nomad herder and his wife and child, we sipped salted goat milk tea together, they were welcoming – I left them with some Tuna that I am carrying.

Weather has been good, heavy rain showers at night, high winds, then dew point in the mornings. I carry the rain tarp in a separate plastic bag, then around Noon, I open it either staked across the deserted Steppe, or in this case, I hung it on the wooden fence outside the Road house restaurant. The menu is mutton and noodles generally, there is no choice and the fat adds some extra calories. I started out 95kg and feel like 85kg right now only getting into the ride. Sun shine and clouds dense overhead float shadows and I ride in and out of their majesty. Maximum mountain biking=this is credit to Mongolia, the absolute place to be right now. I feel blessed and working hard to cross over it.

Thanks for visiting the X Journals! These posts are my private thoughts written during the summer mountain biking in Outer Mongolia. More adventures coming soon, so please enjoy the journey!

Mongolia X Journal 10 // Landed in Eden // Campfire Song and a Nomadic Herder // Mountain biking in the lands of Genghis Khan

Undoubtedly one of the best sections of the course across Mongolia, was reaching “Eden” – a vast green Steppe grassland area with trimmed forest mountain tops, white Ger tents, their Nomads and flocks of goats, sheep and horses. My ankles are pulsing with pain right now, the swelling after days of punishing climbs too rocky to ride up. It’s the reality in a dream destination like this, to encounter some unforgiving days of physical torture that leaves the lungs stronger and ankles a bit worse for the wear.

“I think I’ve found “Eden.” This place is beautiful, completely awe-inspiring beauty in land and people.”

This spectacular location scenery is lush and full carpeted grassland. Sitting back in front of my Northface tadpole tent, I am spotting herds of sheep and goats, represented by white and black dots across the gentle slope of smoothed out mountains. I am camped between these panoramic sloping hills beneath sliced forests a kilometer away from Ger clans. Distant sheep and goat are tracking in formation as they munch their  way across Steppe. Slow movement is urged by distant honking and rumble of a Herder on a small single-bore motorcycle. Some have remained true to their roots in pastorialism, and keep their beautiful horses fit while herding flocks of up to 300 sheep and goats in a healthy stock. All seems perfect and serene for these Nomads living on the land without ownership. Nomads have learned these sustainable practices which are now foreign to the rest of us in the developed world of the West. However, there is one serious threat to this perfection in life forces at work here. Nature’s mighty weather and climate changes, can in a single season wipe this serenity off the face of these pristine inhabited plains.

Today, I am very fortunate to come across a Youth group and their Elders from Erdenet. They have a large camp  being setup while I am silently cycling past on these dirt tracks. Every hand in their group was pitching together to prepare a night of evening festivities. I am the lone wolf out here now.

Although I am tempted to make more distance today, I just put my head down and cycled further for a few minutes. I do not know what is waiting around the next bend or mountain climb to pass ahead. I just know there will be many. I’m tired and my ankles are swollen now, I need a serious rest. What’s ahead, could be anything from what I have encountered the first 7 days, another arid desert-Steppe plateau or will it be rocky and steep, anyone knows.  As I’m climbing toward this steep pitch of the dirt tracks, I turned to look back just before crossing over the horizon. What I can see is a flame flickers out of their wood, a campfire is getting started with light twists of smoke rising into the blue.

I turned and kept pedaling up the mountain for 2 minutes of exertion  I’m ready to collapse and wouldn’t let that “fire” leave my mind, I had not seen one anywhere, and I knew I wouldn’t see another “open fire” again for days. Mongolian Nomads cook on stoves with wood or animal dung, they wouldn’t waste it burning fuel without heating their homes and cooking at the same time. I turned back, pedaled hard for a few minutes and rode over to greet them.

At first, one university student didn’t like my presence at all, looking disagreeable about my visit, “You can’t stay here, goodbye.” I waited and tried to speak to others standing nearby. And when others came around, I explained what I was doing -quite simple, “I’m mountain biking across Mongolia for the summer and needed a safe place to camp for the night.” The rest of their group were agreeable, and I went over and found a spot to pitch my tent away from their circles. It turned out to be a fabulous night after all. A night of two campfires, meeting their Elders and all the Youth together, we sipped shot glasses of vodka, listened to music, the group sang traditional Mongolian song, again I was reminded, this is Eden. It was awesome and a welcomed huge relief.

Their Elders asked that I sit directly in front of them during the ceremony and accept the gifts of candy, sweets and drinks of salted goat milk that they offered me. I graciously accepted their offerings, reflecting, it was a stunning situation. I even drank “airag” or horse milk that was partially fermented and enjoyed it too.We stayed up late, we had the warm campfires, some student went off with my Cygolite 350 lumen to light up the camp and help others with cleaning up, the rest of us drank vodka in surprising shots from nowhere, as they slipped behind me as I filmed our fire. It was heavenly, and I went back and retired for a goodnight’s rest.

The next morning, the group packed earlier than I had even remotely planned to. Given the severity of of my anklescondition,I would give it another day here that wouldn’t hurt my summer schedule at all. I pushed extremely hard starting out and made good progress for the first 7 days without stopping except an overnight camp each night. I took the surroundings in, the safety and comfort of the green pasture land replacing the vacant deserted Steppe deserts I had just climbed out of days earlier – time for a break. I’m glad I did, except for the sunburn on my right leg, when I collapsed into a comatose in the late afternoon, my thigh cooked like a roasted wiener on a spit.  The weather was serene, although I do wonder in way worry about the conditions that all Mongolian Herders will inevitably face each year in the dead of winters.

Terrible situations can come from Mother Nature. These Nomads reflect introspection, gentleness of their people on their lands. Mongolians take care of their people, hosting other Nomad travelers.

They take care of their animals and are gentle on their land. Weather, however, can have adverse affects to their enduring and enchanted way of life on the Steppe. There are different severe winter conditions classified in Mongolia, depending on freeze/thaw droughts, heavy snowfall, or other factors – known as Dzud.  The 2009/2010 winter was one roughest on record for Mongolians, where an enormous amount of snowfall (200-600mm) covered the Steppe grassland, burying the grassland which is feed for millions of grazing livestock animals. As a result of this Dzud, it had devastating effect on Nomadic herders and their families losing a combined 2.1 million animals (sheep, goat, horse, cattle and camels) devastating their sustainable way of life which has endured into the modern times. Alternatively, many Herders who lost more than 1/2 of their flock resorted to urbanization as the solution, moving their Ger tents closer to the peripheral Ger districts of Ulaanbaatar, a city already teeming with development issues. The National Geographic Magazine wrote on this subject in their October 2011 issue located here.

Despite the recent climatic changes which devastated Mongolia Nomadic herding and affected families, these people are survivors and despite economic and climatic challenges being faced each year, they remain some of the warmest people in one of the coldest and remote places on Earth.

Today, I am recovering from 7 hard days mountain biking across the Steppe, a landscape as ever changing as the weather here – I’ve seen rain and sunshine, high wind and scorching sun. This variable topography is like nothing I have seen moving with mountain biking. Mountains and valley transform into plateaus and these crossings (Davaa, Mongolian) are the Great Divide of Central Asia. Regional borders have been drawn on maps, divided into 21 provinces (aimags, a Mongolian word used that means “tribe”). Most start traveling from the capital Ulaanbatar which is in the central province inside Tov Province. The harsh and breathtaking scenes witnessed while overland traveling through Mongolia are the countries main attractions, as are the Herder Nomads and their flocks of sheep, goat, yak, horse and camel – and a guard dog at every Ger village. I have grown accustomed to these animals and notice that goats are bold creatures, they will come right up to my tent, try to sniff or chew on a cable or pull the ropes staked in the hard ground supporting my tent’s rain cover. I can also hide up in the hills, isolated from view of others, and keep myself stocked up on water supply – the most essential piece of equipment.

A Nomad with a horse appears along the horizon, we greet one another in Mongolian, and seem to make a great connection today. I can’t walk so well, or don’t want to – my ankles are swollen and they need some rest. He joins me for figs and raisins, we sit in the sun and through Mongolian and body language – he demonstrates his skill for directing a herd of 200 goats and sheep through a pasture about 600 meters away. He whistles and he chants “Ack! Ack!” and these herds wandering over the stream in the valley between us and the larger mountains (Ikh Uul – large mountains), we watch them cross back over in order. These flocks are obedient and flow across the lush green pastures, a truly beautiful smooth movement of animals through an undulating landscape that someone painted green in portrait. He whistled and pointed to his two top teeth, they were replacement artificials, as he explained in body language and Mongolian that he had fallen off a horse on a hard dirt track and lost them. He couldn’t whistle without them and had them made. He also explained to me that he called the flocks back from their pasture across a river in the valley because he said the word “Chono, or pronounced “Chun” in the video I made while we sat together. He imitated an animal stalking it’s prey that I couldn’t figure out at first, thinking he meant another herder would steal his sheep, or I suggested it was a vulture. After some reflection on my journal and internet research, I know it was the wolf.

Thanks for reading my private journals written while mountain biking across Mongolia. More adventures are coming soon!

Bicycle Touring in western China: Taklamakan Desert, The Silk Road, Tarim Desert Highway