My destination for the first day back on the road was supposed to have been Chelyabinsk, but I found myself at 1am in a banya in Yektarinburg drinking beer and eating smoked fish naked with two strangers some hundreds of kilometers from Chelyabinsk. After about two hours from Ufa I stopped at a cafe for lunch. I saw two other motorcycles there - they belonged to Sasha, 43, and Daniel who was my age, and who was riding with his girlfriend Olga. They were returning from a bike party and Daniel and Olga invited me to their home in Yektarinburg, it was some 400km away, and not on my route, but they promised that the road there would be beautiful so I decided to join them. It was beautiful, sunny day and Sasha knew a great route through the Urals. An incredible feeling to be riding a motorcycle on a sunny day through beautiful mountains with people who, even though you just met them, you know are good and that they are enjoying this as much as you are.
In Yektarinburg we stopped where the local bikers meet every night then went out to dinner before going back to Daniel's house. He lives with his parents, grandparents, Olga, and their 11 month old daughter in a beautiful house outside Yektarinburg with big gardens and a traditional wooden banya. The banya is an important part of Russian culture, and quite possibly their best invention.
A traveler's account from 1153:
"Wondrous to relate, I saw the land of the Slavs, and while I was among them, I noticed their wooden bathhouses. They warm them to extreme heat, then undress, and after anointing themselves with tallow, they take young reeds and lash their bodies. They actually lash themselves so violently that they barely escape alive. Then they drench themselves with cold water, and thus are revived. They think nothing of doing this every day, and actually inflict such voluntary torture on themselves. They make of the act not a mere washing but a veritable torment."
Olga left us boys to the banya and we sat around drinking beer, eating smoked fish, and swapping stories about motorcycle riding into the morning. I left late the next morning after a massive breakfast prepared by Olga. It is already clear that what I will remember most vividly about Russia are the many kind and warm people I've met.
The 1000km from Yektarinburg to Omsk was too much for one day so I spent the next night camping by the side of the road falling asleep to the sound of the Trans-Siberian train.The ride in to Omsk the following day was a nightmare, it started raining heavily and then took me nearly three hours to ride less than 20 miles because of traffic. It was a relief when I finally arrived at Anatoly's apartment. I had contacted Anatoly over three weeks earlier when I had originally expected to be passing through Omsk and had stayed in touch with him while in Ufa and he graciously offered to host me whenever I passed through. Anatoly is a fellow rider, and it was very nice to share riding stories with him - he has rode in India, Bali, and Malaysia and occasionally writes articles for Russian motorcycle magazines.
The next morning my first task was to identify the cause of an alarming sound from the front wheel that I had noticed just outside Omsk. With Anatoly's help it was quickly located – the “mechanics” in Ufa, where I had stored the bike and who had been so friendly, had insisted on replacing the disc themselves. They had neglected, however, to use thread lock and properly tighten the bolts on the front brake caliper and one of the two bolts had fallen out. Fortunately the second one was still in place, or I would have been looking for another front disc, or even worse not writing this!!
This was only the first of several problems that I had because of their work – to make it even worse they ridiculously overcharged me for something I could have easily done myself. I was too fed up with the whole ordeal to argue at the time, but I definitely learned my lesson to be careful about who works on the bike and to double check their work. Fortunately Anatoly had several bolts in the correct size and we were able to quickly replace the bolt and I was on my way to Novosibirsk.
In Novosibirsk I managed (with some difficulty) to meet up with my host Semen. I was actually getting quite frustrated on the phone because of the language barrier, Semen doesn't speak very much English, but he would turn out to be one of the friendliest and most hospitable people I've met. After meeting up he took me to try "New York" pizza, apparently some American opened a chain of pizza shops in Novosibirsk back in the 90s, let's just say I'm ready for a real NY slice!
After dinner we went back to Semen's apartment and had a second dinner. There were three Russians from Kazan returning from a two week hiking trip in the Altai mountains staying with Semen. Over a traditional Russian drink of vodka and honey they showed me some, the Altai looks very beautiful and I am looking forward to passing through this region on my way to Kazakhstan. Later we were joined by five more Russians from Tatarstan, they were passing through Krasnoyarsk in their car and Semen was hosting them too! I had planned to continue on the next day, but I needed a break and Semen was quite insistent that I see his city so I spent the day exploring Novosibirsk. It is the largest city in Siberia and the third largest in Russia, but not a very beautiful city to be honest. Went to the zoo and saw what I hope to be are the only Russian bears I meet on the trip:
Semen and his girlfriend were truly generous hosts, Semen was so worried I'd be cold in Mongolia and Kazakhstan that he gave me his winter jacket. I tried to refuse, but he wouldn't let me. As I write this several weeks later I can say that the jacket has already seen much use and is greatly appreciated!
I left Novosibirsk with the intention of riding the 800km to Krasnoyarsk in one day. It took me over an hour just to get out of Novosibirsk and it was almost midday by the time I was on the M53, the main road running across Siberia. Once again it rained off and on, and even though I was making good time it was clear I wouldn't be able to make it before nightfall. I normally never ride at night by choice, but I decided to continue rather than camp, arriving in Krasnoyarsk at nearly 11pm after an exhausting 13 hours on the bike. I met up with Wlad who rides a Yamaha 125 and who would be my host for two nights in Krasnoyarsk.
The next morning Wlad and I located the store where the tires I had ordered several months ago were waiting for me. Later in the day we took a ride south along a beautiful winding road to check out the Krasnoyarsk dam and the Yenisei River:
Sunday Wlad and I rode over to the garage of Yura, a friend of Wlad's and a motorcycle and car mechanic. Many Krasnoyarsk riders prefer to do most of the work on their bikes themselves and Yura lets them use his garage while acting as a consultant. He very graciously allowed me to use his garage and tools for free and I spent most of the day there doing routine maintenance – changing the oil, tires, cleaning the air filter etc. The bike also got a much needed bath, but as you'll see it wouldn't stay clean very long!
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