Siberia 2007
An expedition along the legendary Trans-Siberian BAM or Baikal-Amur Magistral is several thousand miles of wilderness, where a bridge over a river is often an unattainable luxury. Ours was one of the few off-road teams that managed this feat. In less than 23 days we were able to ascribe a circle from Irkutsk to Tynda and back to Irkutsk, finding a few days spare to dive in the Lake Baikal.
show moreAugust 2007
“Diary of the expedition” by Bernard Afeltowicz
Most teams going to these inaccessible areas of the former Soviet Union choose the southern route, bypassing Lake Baikal by the more densely populated areas south of the lake and following a route along the Trans-Siberian railways, to Vladivostok. We set ourselves the goal to go the almost deserted route, bypassing Lake Baikal to the north, towards the city of Tynda.
In less than 23 days we were able to ascribe a circle from Irkutsk to Tynda and back to Irkutsk, finding a few days spare to dive in the Lake Baikal.
The ultimate success of the expedition often came under question. Twice a pre-condition to go further was obtaining approvals of the local administration for driving our cars over railway bridges. It would be difficult to give the number of inner tubes and punctures tires, damaged when fording some 50 rivers, where the current was sometimes so strong that it almost overturned cars, and sometimes threatened to carry the cars down the river... All this meant that the average speed rarely exceeded 20 km/h. It wasn't just that the roads – if there were any – were terrible: dust, or at best gravel; it also sometimes took us entire days searching for fords or pulling cars out of the water. We were glad when there were any fords, because sometimes ... they just did not exist. Adding to this – the constant, unequal and hopeless struggle against the nuisance of mosquitoes and even more troublesome blackflies, which gave us no peace from dawn until after dusk. Often we were camping in the middle of nowhere, on the edge of the taiga, in abandoned quarries, and sometimes under the bridge. In addition, in almost every village or town next we passed, we heard that we should turn back, because now we will not go further.
And yet, we made it! After 18 days we got to the Siberian adventure destination - the eastern shore of Lake Baikal. Diving 40 meters at the edge of the Holy Nose peninsula, which was the Apeks of this extreme expedition, was a pleasure, even though the water was only 4 Centigrade, and visibility in the seemingly pure Baikal was very limited.
Day zero, Thursday, August 9th
Early in the morning, about 6 am, with Zbyszek and Ryszard, we land at the airport in Irkutsk, where Oleg and Yevgeniy, managers of the local branch of Carcade, are waiting for us. They're taking us to the hotel 'Europe' for breakfast. The standard of the hotel – to my surprise – is in line with its name. From here, we drive out of town to a Kamaz truck trading company, where, in an enormous but ruined factory, our cars, Starnaś and his team are waiting for us.
We spend the last day on final preparations: installation of an additional wheel arch, replacement of a burnt converter, review and packaging of our loads. I go to see the town a little, visit the Carcade office. Together with Ryszard we do grocery shopping in a huge super-supermarket, and at a bookstore we buy a map of Lake Baikal and the surrounding area. In the evening, we check into the hotel, eat dinner on the terrace and go to sleep. The flight from Moscow, the time change of 5 hours and a long day of hard work mean that I fall asleep instantly. Unfortunately, in the middle of the night I'm jolted awake by my phone – Remek is having problems with clearance at the airport. Moments later, yet another call that they need assistance in completing some incomprehensible formalities. It turns out that the whole company is sitting downstairs in the hotel's pub and are they're just taking the piss. I go to greet them, we have a beer and we can finally go to bed...
Day one, Friday, August 10th
It's not easy to get up when you're jet-lagged. Especially those who came from Poland with Leszek in his jet in the middle of the night have reasons to be sleepy. We're going to the Kamaz base and continue packing. We take a decision to buy some canisters - 6 pieces per car. The guys from Carcade ransack all of Irkutsk and finally find a suitable number of them, but it takes them several hours. Finally, we are ready: we refuel the cars and – late in the afternoon – leave Irkutsk. In the beginning we're on a wide, two-lane federal road going in the north-western direction. Sometimes the road is very good, at other times – dreadful. We stop at a roadside 'Cafe' for lunch, and a few hours later go briefly to a small village to see 'real Siberia'. We make small purchases at a local shop and get on the Trans-Siberian route to Tulun, there to turn to the north - in the direction of Bratsk.
First time we camp in the birch grove on a strip of fallow in the midst of, already plowed, collective farm fields. I read that the parts through which we ride have been colonized by the Russians at the beginning of the seventeenth century and – thanks to a pretty good soil, and numerous agricultural settlements – have become a land of typical agricultural character, which in Siberia is rather an exception than a rule.
Today we travelled 401 km.
Day two, Saturday, August 11th
After breaking camp we head north, stopping at a kolkhoz cemetery. Impressively enough, the tombs, though visibly neglected, are mostly steel - welded from sheets and rods. Unfortunately, there is not an ounce of artistry in this 'metalwork'... Many of them instead of crosses have the symbol of a red star. There are no Polish names among them.
Shopping in the Market Hall in Bratsk makes us realize that the stock we have taken from Poland was unnecessary. A very decent selection of goods is easily available on the food stands, and the household cleaning products, detergents etc. are no worse than the stuff back home. Once we're done shopping, we follow the broad road north and cross the Angara, riding across the impressive magnitude of its dam. Unfortunately for us the road is set in such a way that we can hardly see the artificial water reservoir known locally as the 'Bratsk Sea'. The Reservoir is reportedly one of the largest of its kind in the world and is the result of the construction of a large dam on the Angara in the fifties. As with most of the great constructions of socialism: the most fertile areas have been flooded, and thousands of people displaced from their villages with centuries of tradition to some blocks of concrete hastily put together. The dam is so great and produces so much hydroelectric energy that factories located around the city were not able to consume it. They did, however, manage to produce so much pollution that several years ago in Bratsk street megaphones used to inform residents of when they should not leave their homes because the air was saturated with harmful gases. Oh, the great success of socialist economy...
We spend the night on a small clearing, about an hour's drive from Ust-Kut. One of the guys sneaks out into the woods – not difficult to guess why. Unfortunately for him, he has a close encounter with a zigzag snake, for which he has a witness. The resulting shock makes him unable to find a place safe enough for quite some time... The rest of the team admire the perfectly clear sky, full of stars and constellations, and have fun recognizing them, or whenever they see 'shooting stars' – it is the season for Leonids.
We drove 420 km that day.
Day three, Sunday, August 12th
The new day greets us with beautiful sunshine, but on the road it means clouds of dust and lack of visibility. My CB radio is faulty, but somehow we are coping. We are already riding along the BAM and the sight of the train tracks will, from now on, accompany us every day.
The BAM was invented by Stalin as the flagship building of the era of socialism, but after his death the work was halted. In 1974, in the Brezhnev era the project was resumed and 10 years later the Taishet station (on the 'old' Trans-Siberian Railway) east of Bratsk was connected with Komsomolsk-on-Amur, on the shores of the Pacific Ocean. BAM was officially opened as late as 1990 and the line never delivered what the creators had hoped for. Its launch coincided with a period of economic crisis in the Soviet Union and the country has also run out of power and resources to meet most of the plans to build huge mining and processing conglomerates that were to be formed along the railroad. I wonder if this great investment will ever regain its meaning and purpose ...
Several kilometers from Ust Kut, on the wide gravel road Remek gets a flat tire for the first time; this will not be the last one on this journey. The tire was punctured in two places with a bent steel rod several centimeters long. We change the tire, and take the punctured one as well, though with little hope of repairing the serious damage. The road delves into the valley between the high ranges of hills of the Baikal Ridge. For the first time we see a few patches of snow on the distant peaks – no wonder, as they exceed two and a half thousand meters above the sea. We are driving on the gravel road at about 50-60 km/h, which may prove a challenge for the suspension of our cars. We decide to slow down a little ...
By the road we find traces of something. Perhaps it was a labor camp, or perhaps only a very carefully protected storage area. You can see the remains of a double fence of barbed wire, guard towers, lighting poles, the ruins of buildings. Imagination gives the worst scenario, all the more since in the thirties there were gulags in this area.
Late in the evening, outside the village Kunierma, we go down a side road for the night, by the local 'Polar Bear' ski area - who comes here to ski?!
We set camp on a sandy clearing, obviously of artificial origin, surrounded by pine trees. Although we are out of the wetlands and it is dry here, mosquitoes are a nuisance. The only thing that allows us to function in the evening is the fact that at around 10:30 the beasts go to sleep and we can finally sit quietly by the fire. Our anti-mosquito clothing made of tiny, stiff net seems to work. 'Autan', on the other hand, turns out to be completely ineffective. So far, the road does not even require four-wheel drive, although in the worst parts it is just a dirt road. We often see ordinary passenger cars travelling in both directions.
That day we travelled 386 km.
Day four, Monday, August 13th
In the morning we head to Severobaykalsk in which the Nissan crew will have to repair the front axle. While some go to the market, one of the crews goes to check if the puncture can be fixed, but no miracles there and the repaired tire cannot last more than a few kilometers.
The city is a 'flagship' example of a 'BAM-city', one built almost from scratch in the seventies - in parallel with the construction of the rail lines. It has about 20,000 inhabitants, and its centre consists of a square and a representative street, ending in a big railway station. Its proximity to Lake Baikal means that the city lives mainly from tourism and even manages to make a pretty good impression. Fifteen years ago it looked quite different: after the completion of the construction of railways, most of the city's residents lost their livelihoods, while local authorities could only see development opportunities in the creation of heavy industry. The belief was so strong, that a report by experts, who convened under the auspices of UNESCO in the early nineties in Severobaykalsk to propose directions of development for the region, was red-taped. The experts recommended the inclusion of Lake Baikal and its surroundings in the World Heritage Register, and focusing on the development of tourism and associated services... The report was unacceptable for the then Russian authorities, and its recognition came only in the late 1990's.
We buy used CB radios from local taxi drivers, to replace those that work the worst. In the electronics or cars part stores here they haven't even heard of CB... In a bookstore we buy maps of the Lake Baikal, the surrounding area and a map of the Buryat Republic, very useful in our further travel. Our cars parked in the centre arouse great interest. Passers-by share with us their knowledge about the probability of execution of our plan of getting to Tynda. Only one of our interlocutors seems to think that this might be possible, but his opinion is based on hearsay. We learn, however, that there is a road, still unchecked on maps because it was recently built, which leads through Zhigalov and Kachur, and you can get to Irkutsk from Severobaykalsk saving of about 300-350 km in relation to the road through Bratsk. This may come useful, should we be were forced to retreat from our journey towards Tynda. We also hear about a shortcut along the Barguzin Range on the eastern shore of Lake Baikal from Novyi Uojan to Kurumkan, but nobody knows for sure.
We refuel and fill all the canisters, which gives us roughly 280 liters of fuel per car and we drive along the shore of Lake Baikal on an asphalt road to the north, by Nizhneangarsk up to the mouth of the Upper Angara and then continued north-east along the BAM. There are interesting stories associated with Nizhneangarsk and the period of BAM construction. The town was to be the main centre of the western section of the construction management, so the giant began to rise here, with concrete multi-storey buildings - including a big hospital. But it turned out that the ground here is unstable and the buildings sunk under their own weight, so the operations centre moved to Severobaykalsk. The hospital building was finally deserted in 1994, and 20 years after being put into service it was already a ruin. A port was also built here, which was meant to be used to transport building materials by water from Irkutsk. But the railroad was built faster while the port slower than planned, so when it was ready, it was completely unneeded: transport by rail was not only faster and easier but also cheaper.
The asphalt ends after 80 km and we go further along a wide gravel road. The road is very bumpy and we get shaken a lot. We find it worthwhile to go along the 'technical' route, by the railway embankment. You just have to leave for the 'ordinary' road, when the tracks run across the bridge to avoid the drive on the rails. The crew of one of the cars has proven that it can be done, but there is always the risk that a train will arrive and things could get shaky. The question of 'who's going to bolt first?', we'd rather be left unanswered ...
With time, the good weather ends and in the evening it starts raining, so we choose the Angara's rocky bank, under a road bridge, as place of accommodation. The location has the undoubted advantage of giving us a roof over our heads and a beautiful river close at hand, but the disadvantage is that two hundred meters away is the railway viaduct and the sounds of passing trains wake me five times in the night.
That day, due to the long layover in Severobaykalsk, we travelled only 210 km.
Day five, Tuesday, August 14th
We leave the camp under the bridge about 9:30 and we move toward the village of Novy Uojan. We know that the 'good' road ends here and it might be a bumpy road from now on. In the morning we had to change another rubber under the shock absorbers and we regret that in Severobaykalsk we didn't try to buy more, but it’s too late for that. We reach New Uoyan around 10:00, we shop for food and decide to hang about until 11:00 for the opening of the car parts shop. The town makes a positive impression and the people are nice and accommodating. While waiting, we get involved in discussions and learn where and how to arrange permission to ride on a railroad bridge. At the store it turns out that the rubber pads are in stock, but only ones for GAZ cars, while the steel ones are not suitable in diameter. Just in case we buy 10 pieces.
People who overhear our conversation suggest we take a ride to a local turner at a 'leshoz' (small town living off logging), and we do so. As the turner is fitting the pad, we discuss the possibility of getting on the winter road we found on the map and going south through the mountains to Kurumkan. It turns out that this road practically does not exist: it was devastated by heavy KrAZs and Urals, and water completed the work of destruction. We are told this by a KrAZ driver, who destroyed a bridge on that road and it took weeks to get him dragged out of there. We decide that, given the situation, we will pursue the original plan and try to go east to Tynda, although the opinions of those we talk to are divided – the majority believe that you simply cannot get by car to Tynda, though - encouragingly - none of them tried to... We go on our way and soon we get to the town of Tonelnyj, where the BAM tracks traverses on steep slopes and a new line disappears in a sixteen-kilometers tunnel. The town is gone, it seems that it was just a place on the map and a name. After completing over twenty years of construction work on the tunnel, people simply abandoned it. The maps of Buryat Republic, purchased at a bookstore in Severobaykalsk, although in the scale of
1: 1,000,000 are newer than the ones we had. Best to use both maps. Thanks to the GPS indications, we can always find our spot on our army issue map, because in this respect it is almost perfect – no deformation, and the tourist map provides the missing information about the area ...
We go up to the pass in the Severomuysk Mountains, but even here, at an altitude of about 1122 meters above sea level, soon enough mosquitoes show up. We drive down and now we see Severomuysk where BAM paths again come to the surface. We pass through town without stopping. In the guide I read about the history of the construction of the tunnel. Instead of seven it lasted almost thirty years. I read of a struggle with complex geological structures, underground lakes and rivers, and that the tunnel was flooded constantly by water squirting at a pressure exceeding 30 atm. On top of this, there are earthquakes, of which reportedly in this region approximately 400 per year are recorded! The entire project cost an unknown number of lives – the number of builders who died, still has not been disclosed.
The road – as usual here – leads on the embankment among wetland forests and marshes, so we decided to keep going late in the evening, using the headlights - if only to get out of this 'kingdom of mosquitoes'. Driving through puddles and fords is interesting as the headlights 'glide' across the surface of the water and it is difficult to assess the depth... At approximately 23:00 the landscape starts changing – we enter a pine forest, and we encounter the first clearing. When we start to set up camp suddenly a voice comes to us from the darkness over an announcer and we hear that "we should take caution and move away from the tracks for the arriving train". It turns out that our 'clearing' and the area is the railway station called Muyukan. To be sure there was no one there at night, but the megaphone is probably connected to the network...
That day we travelled 203 km.
Day six, Wednesday, August 15th
We get up and after breakfast we leave the train station area, on which some people have already appeared. The day is cold and cloudy. Soon we reach the new road leading from Taksimo north. It doesn’t exist on our army maps, but does on the tourist one purchased in Severobaykalsk. We cross the river Muya on a new bridge. We decide to go down to the great, wide, sandy beach and go for a swim. The water is pretty cold, but bearable - about 12 Centigrade.
We drive to Taksimo and fill up the tanks. Taksimo is a large - for Siberian conditions – a several-thousand city with history dating back to tsarist times. It is also the last station of the BAM where electric trains arrive. From this point on the trains are hauled by diesel locomotives. Conversation with a Toyota Land cruiser driver encountered by chance rids us of illusions - Toyota parts need to be specially ordered. A visit to the autoparts store confirms this information - they only have rubbers for GAZ shock absorbers, but we already have these... We do grocery shopping at the store - as always well stocked - and we go further, foregoing the city tour. We hope that we will make it before the end of office hours of the Kuanda BAM management office.
The road from Taksimo turns out to be a very good, sandy road, but unfortunately the lead car driver does not notice a fork and we drive to Ust-Muya on the Vitim river. We only learn about the mistake at the river, through which there is no bridge, only the ferry, although it is uncertain whether it is active... We go back 23 km, knowing already that we will not get to Kuanda in time... In one of the Toyotas we note a 'flattening' in the left trailing. We decide that, at the earliest opportunity, we would have to reduce its cargo. This would be best achieved by pouring the fuel from all six canisters carried on the roof of the ill-fated Toyota into the tanks of all cars and resigning from the transporting water in a 20-litre canister. In total this is more than 140 kg weight less. On the same day in Leszek's Toyota another wheel 'goes down' - this time the tire seems whole and the air goes down slowly. We change for the spare and head on.
We head for the bridge on river Vitim. We think we know what to expect, but at a few hundred metres long and nearly 20m tall, but only about 3 meters wide, the bridge with no railings makes a big impression. Fortunately, the bridge is steel, sturdy, and its deck is composed of thick steel-plate connected beams. The problem is the lack of any railings on the sides - should a wheel roll off the edge of the deck, nothing will stop the car from falling down. We pass one by one - only the driver in the car. It takes ages, imagination tells visions of disaster, I feel an adrenaline rush. On the other side we conclude that this is an experience stronger than a bungee jump! We go further at what has become the 'standard' speed of about 20 km/h, through fords or poor quality bridges, but without problems.
That day we did a total of about 170 km, but after the deduction of the back and forth segment to Ust-Muya effectively we travelled just about 135 km.
Day seven, Thursday, August 16th
We reach Kuanda late in the afternoon and spend the night just outside the city, at a lake called by the locals Bannoye, because there once was a 'banya'. The next day, we must obtain the consent of the local chief of the BAM section management to use the railroad bridge crossing the river Kuanda. I have to be there in the morning, because the head is in his office from 6:30 for an hour, and then will probably leave to visit the area. Leszek puts on the wet suit in the evening and tries to spear-fish, but comes out from the dive empty-handed – visibility in the water does not exceed 1.5m. Remek tries fishing, but similarly gets nothing ... We're left with the delicacies of the instant variety. In the middle of the night a group of drunken Russians show up on our clearing - burning a fire, drinking, having fun. Willy-nilly we have to join in – we decide to send a 'decent representation', while others are trying to sleep. In the morning it starts to rain, and to make things worse, when I report in the office, it appears that I am almost an hour late. How is that possible? Simple - we have already left the Buryat Republic and drove into another time zone. I reset the watch and - on the advice of one of the employees – I decide to wait until 9:00 for the main bookkeeper. It works – we write a 'zayavleniye' for the absent head and I pay the cashier about 9,200 rubles, or some 2,300 rubles per car.
We break the camp in a hurry and head out to make it, because crossing the bridge is supposedly only possible in the morning (from 10:00) and in the evening. Once again, we're on the 'technical' road, going fast on the embankment for about 10 km – making our way to the bridge. We made it - it is 9:50. In anticipation of the passage we refuel the cars from the canisters and the relieved spring returns to its normal shape. Around 10:00 we are passed by a long train full of tanks and after a while, with the help of the staff, we start crossing. We have trouble getting on the tracks - the wheels slide sideways and the car glides sideways along the rail. Planting blocks of wood is of little help... Getting in backwards appears to be the most effective method. What is worse, the Toyotas' spring mount hanger pins on the rails, so after a while, every car has it more or less bent – we'll have to see if they'll last and for how long. We should have shortened them when mounting the springs... The crossing of the bridge, about 100-150 meters, presents no serious difficulties: the pilot walks ahead and the driver obeys his commands. The cars seem to have 'perfect fit' track for this. When we have crossed, three Russian trucks get on the bridge, and we head on.
To our surprise, 5 minutes later, despite the red light on the semaphore a train arrives from the East: a locomotive and two platforms! We hope they will slow down before the bridge, because the passage of those cars is probably still in progress ...
We pass the Balbukta station. Nothing interesting there, but it was where the 'golden pin' was driven through, combining the two sections of the BAM – the one built from the West side and that drawn from the Pacific Ocean. Anyway, as in happened in the Soviet system, it was not Balbukta that passed into history, only Kuanda nearby, where ceremonies for the combination of the two sections of BAM were organized. Why there? It was easier to prepare a ceremony attended by the highest dignitaries of the state in the larger Kuanda.
The rest of the day passes with us driving slow, typically around 15-20 km/h and going across pretty bad shape bridges. There's quite a few crossings – quickly, I lose track – but I estimate there were about 30, maybe more.
Some of the bridges do not exist, or are so weak that it is better to detour them, crossing streams and rivers by fords. These are usually passable, though a 4x4 and a good suspension is necessary here. There are no more jokes – no regular car would stand a chance. The water depth is not a problem for our cars. Only once, because of the huge rocks deposited on the bottom, the first car got stuck and we had to use the winch. And once the water level reached the threshold.
Throughout the day we meet just a few cars, but on the road there are visible traces of wheels all the time. The weather is improving, it stopped raining, it is also more beautiful. Impressive landscapes can be admired thanks to the wonderful clarity of air. Every now and then tiny squirrels run the way - dormice. We get to the next pass, and on the road down to the Chara River Valley we notice strange marks on the road – what seem like hooves. A moment later the mystery is explained, as we meet a lonely Evenk – a hunter leading twelve pairs of reindeer with sacks on their backs. There's even a rifle. The rifle is not surprising – apparently here 'everybody hunts'. But an encounter with a nomad Evenk is rare...
Sometime later we descend off the road into the beautiful, wide, fairly shallow mountain river. While some of us are tested bathing in low temperature, the Nissan crew decide to train in 'true off-road' riding along the riverbed with the stream and against the current.
At night we stop in a sort of an abandoned quarry, just outside the entrance to Nova Chara. Mosquitoes are more troublesome than usual, so for the first time our 'common' tent is deployed and we spend the evening mostly inside - under the protection of mosquito nets and smoke from the burning Raid spirals. It hasn't been this bad – the mosquitoes, and there are many, do not leave, even at night. Even when we manage to hide under the nets, the blackflies bully us, and they're tiny flies, innumerable swarms of them, and the fine mesh nets are like highways to them...
That day we travelled 161 km.
Day eight, Friday, August 17th
We get up later than usual, but mosquitoes do not allow us to eat breakfast in peace. Nova Chara, where we are able to repair a punctured inner tube, is a big town, inhabited by about 10 thousand people. Although the owner of the garage spends more than half an hour repairing the inner tubes and tires, he categorically insists that he will not accept any payment from us, but instead asks us to sign in the book. A commemorative book in the garage! Nothing here is ordinary - Leszek notes that the guy has Boss boots on his feet, wearing his work overalls! When asked what we like and what not we tell in earnest that the country is beautiful, but the very annoying swarms of mosquitoes make it unliveable. In response, we hear that this year there's fewer of them than usually.
While we are at the garage, another crew, from a car parked in front of the train station, gets into a conversation with some shady types - at first glance you can see that these are local goons (black leather, gold jewellery, tattoos), but they are trying to be nice to us. They even show us how to get to the local museum. Culture first and foremost. At the station: we're back in civilization – there is even an operating ATM. In a well-stocked shop we buy food and a Russian anti-mosquito cream. In the museum (an entrance ticket sets us back 30 rubles), we buy a tourist map of the Chara area. It is both accurate and updated. The museum itself is small: some bones excavated from the ground (permafrost?), photographs and memorabilia from the Gulag, including the most infamous one in the 'Marble Valley'. In addition, many minerals, including purplish black semi-precious stone, gems appearing only in the Kalarski mountain range, some stuffed animals and an exhibition illustrating the culture of Evenks. I buy a necklace, but soon it transpires that this is not a bear claw, but the tusk of an animal, a kind of musk deer called Kabanga, that looks like a cross between a small deer and a rat. Well, nobody's perfect. We make an entry in the guest book, and ours is the first entry in an alphabet other than Cyrillic, and we head on.
The map we bought covers only the area to Hani, but it's good, because we believe that the distance separating us from Hani is almost an all-day distance, about 135 km. We have to be there in the morning, to obtain yet another permit to ride on the train bridge over the river Olyokma. In a few hours it turns out that these calculations were wrong: on that day we drive 180 km, and achieve nothing in Hani. But let's take it slow... the road and bridges out the town are in surprisingly good condition – but only the first 50 km to the Chapo-Ologo fork. Then everything returns to 'normal': cruising speed ranges from 20-30 km, the bridges are in poor condition, but fortunately passable. Gradually we make our way higher and higher, and the landscape and flora are changing. The highest point on the first pass from Nova Chara is 1240 m above the sea level. To get into the vast Olyokma river valley, we must first cross the Udokan mountain range. Although we are going up mountain passes, around us are still mostly marshland and peat bogs.
The next pass is even higher - 1330 m. Stunning views, although the air is not as clear as yesterday, there's a light wind and... no mosquitoes. Hurrah! The weather is beautiful - only cumulus clouds and sun in the sky. It is so warm that we decide to turn on the air conditioning again after a few days break... Finally, we can feel that we are in the mountains... All the way the roads are in a decent condition, but no more do we lose time for careful decision-making: a bridge or a ford? We have already gotten quite skilful and the bridges are usually good enough.
About 16:15 we find at last a pool of the river, which it is possible to get to. We stop for a swim and a bit of rest, as waiting for us in a moment is today's most difficult crossing. About 20 km before the town of Hani is a broken bridge over the Olobongdo river, a tributary of Hani. The bridge is at such an angle, in both planes, that a car would turn over to the side. Driving through the ford is a problem because of the current, which at this point is extremely strong. Then there are large rocks scattered irregularly on the river bottom.
We're lucky - the water level is much lower than we have been told it might be, but still, just in case, we prepare the winch. Fortunately it proves unnecessary and we can go on. The road further on is typical – an embankment among wetlands, a bottom of a mountain valley and two or three small bridges, but these do not pose any problems. Generally, the road is better than the one yesterday.
Around 19:00 we get to Hani, we find the management office, but this time it is different than in Kuanda. Natasha, working behind the counter, sends us back to the foreman working on the siding, and he in turn back into the office, to phone the chief. I'm going back to the counter and Natasha begins the search, calling different numbers to finally find Viktor Ivanovich Beloshapkin - the local chief of BAM line management. My conversation with him resembles a Monty Python sketch – he asks, when we want to cross the bridge, and I tell him that it depends on him, because we do not know the train timetable. Generally, I explain to him what I want from him, and he – though reluctantly – admits I am right. Not a word about the charge. It becomes that we have to "come to the bridge" and from "there to contact him”.
The problem is that the bridge is about 130 km away on tough routes, and on the way there is at least one completely broken bridge and a difficult ford passage, which means we will be at the bridge probably tomorrow late afternoon. We determine that when we get there, we have to report to the man on duty at the bridge and call again. I take all possible phone numbers from Natasha, the foreman gives us the last directions ... and we're off.
Just beyond the town a nearly hundred-meter bridge on the River Hani provides a thrill: hanging high up, it looks like a random pile of loose beams. Of course, there are no side rails or stops... Fortunately, it appears strong and wide enough. Soon Leszek indicates a problem - another rubber under the front shock absorber is down. We decide to replace it right away, not waiting for the evening stop over. After 15 minutes we get moving. The road is narrow, as perhaps never before, and you can see that this section is rarely used, and bridges are slowly falling apart. One of them, suspended over a small tributary of Hani (120deg.16.939min. East) has a beam coverage so decayed that you can feel it fall apart under the wheels.
Remek, riding third, has bad luck and a steel plate lying along the beams gets held up in the front wheel, revealing a hole wider than the diameter of the wheel. It is the first opportunity to use the plank. The car passes safely, but the plank is strongly bent - we would have to straighten it before reassembling in the handles. I would not be surprised if in a year or two, this bridge were no longer good to drive on, but who knows - in Siberia, anything is possible. I have a feeling that now we are really in a complete wilderness. Finally, the vision of the road through a wild and empty area, which I had from the beginning, as soon as we left New Uoyan, comes true.
We go further, and the road goes down significantly, into the next valley. Not much time passes, and the GPS shows that we are only at an altitude of 540 m above sea level. We go until the evening, unable to find a place to stay. We manage soon after 21:00 – our camp is deployed on a small sandy clearing - it seems that it used to be a gravel dig. We start a fire and prepare dinner. It gets cold quickly, and - perhaps thanks to this – for the first time there are no mosquitoes. A miracle - no mosquitoes, nor blackflies, nor any other flying abominations ... We can finally sit peacefully by the fire and talk ...
On that day we have travelled 180 km.
Day nine, Saturday, August 18th
Another day begins with the ritual wake-up at about 7:30, and, as usual, we're in the same company: it is us and the mozzies... We test the Russian repellent creams. The one in the green tube ('Komaroff') does not work, the one in the blue one ('Biezkomarin') just might, but very briefly ... Hopeless. We pour fuel from the canisters to reduce the load on the roof and just as we want to move, it turns out that the day before Remek got a flat tire and we need to replace it. We set off about 9:15. Unfortunately, the weather is bad: heavy clouds and a fog, which reduces visibility to 150-200m, and it looks like it is going to rain...
About half an hour later, we enter the Olyokma settlement, to go shopping. Olyokma consists of 10, up to 12 residential blocks, each three floors high and with three stairwells. All have slanting roofs – so much so good – but covered, as always here, with eternit. There are three grocery stores, all located simply in ground-floor apartments. What is interesting, none has the slightest sign and entrance is from inside the stairwell, so from the outside there's no chance of guessing where the store is. The locals just know it, and the guests arrive apparently so rarely that, as things are, it's all good... Since it is Saturday, only one of them is open, but it is out of bread. Apparently you can buy it at a "canteen on base", but we foolishly give up the opportunity and go on.
The route leads along the river Hani initially, on a pretty good road and over decent bridges, so we do not need to use the fords. Even if the bridges look scary, the passage does not pose any problems. Over time, the road is getting worse, and even bridges sometimes require detours through fords. The road goes down again, then back up the slope , and on the more difficult climbs we need to go slowly - about 15 km/h. It is on one such a drive up, around 12:20, when I stop the car for a moment - and Remek, 'knocked out' by the monotony of slow driving, crashes the back of my car (if you can 'crash' at about 15 km/h) Bang, shock, and we go to check the damage ... Our back door is slightly deformed, the spare wheel absorbed the shock, but it was crammed into a sheet. We're unable to open the back door – a small problem, which we hope to solve later ... Remek finds a bent up front bumper and no more losses. We continue along a very narrow road, sometimes no wider than 3 meters, in the low scrub, wet from the rain. We hear Leszek over the CB, joking that we're driving through a car wash ... For most of the day we do not encounter a single car, but there are traces on the way. We're all in good spirits, and the bridge on Olyokma is less than 30 km away, so it seems that it will “all be downhill from here” - until we reach the river Imangra, a sizable inflow of Olyokma (N 56 deg 44044, E 121 deg 11875). It turns out that there is no bridge, the river is about 100 m wide, over a meter deep, and the current pushes you off your feet even in the shallows. I know because I checked, trying to get to the other side, which resulted in a dip in the icy water. We measured – it was 8 Centigrade.
From the workers extracting gravel in the area of the bridge for the construction of a road to a new mine, we learn that yesterday three GAZ 66's passed across the ford, but they are almost two times higher on their wheels... So I talk with the driver of a KAMAZ tipper truck, if he could tow us to the other side, but he explains that his car has no chance in the river because the drive is on one axis and it has low air intake. The operator of a large gravel loader-bulldozer with wheels almost two meters in diameter refused, "because it won't go in the water". They propose we wait for the foreman, who rides a GAZ 66th. Finally, instead of waiting, I get into the tipper truck and we go to the place of road construction, which is called 'the birthday place' by the local workers . When we arrive at the place it turns out to be about 3 km of a new, primitive road of the planned sixteen, in complete wilderness. Here, luckily, we meet the foreman in his machine. Luckily, as he was about to go back to the base in Hani. He agrees to see if he can help, so we return in the GAZ to the river bank and ride through the water. We just barely go over, and both the foreman and his driver agree that our Toyotas "will sail down like boats" and they cannot aid in the crossing. The only thing that they can suggest is to wait until the water subsides, or go to the railway bridge. We would have to obtain a permit from the local BAM chief and wait for the arrival of a team of line men in a so-called ASCA, which is a kind of technical tram. They give us the chief's satellite phone number, but also warn us that a few kilometres away is the next river (Taas-Yuryakh) of similar width and depth, but without any bridge or convenient fords... We're also given little hope, that the office would send an ASKA today or tomorrow – it is a Saturday, so a day off. Things are not looking good...
In the meantime, Boguś and Janusz find downstream, some 500 m below the place where the road disappears into the river, a place where the stream forms a stretched letter S. As a result, only on the outside of the stream bed is gusty and the water deep. The idea crops up to cross the river in its current entering at the upper corner, then going down in the main stream about 100-150m and again in the shallower water to the other side. Leszek, dressed in a diving wet suit goes across the river to check the seabed, and the Nissan crew goes to the railway bridge and continue on foot to the other side. It turns out that if we drive across the river in the place they found, it is possible to get to the technical road going along the track. The whole concept looks promising - it has only one fundamental flaw – we have no idea as to how to come back, because it is one thing to go with the stream, and another against the current of a fast-flowing river. What happens if we find along the way that other rivers are impassable? There is also some risk that the 'main' road and the 'technical' one, on which we would be driving, would not come together before the next crossing. We are considering sending a 'reconnaissance team' on foot along the tracks, but that's about 15km one way, and geologists have warned us that one should not move away from the camp alone, as there are many bears in the region this year and three men were reportedly killed by them. They said it quite seriously, and rather out of concern for us.
We try to call the head of the BAM office – maybe he will somehow grant us passage of three bridges and send an ASKA team. But we have no luck - our phones work in another system so we cannot connect. I go back to the camp, to ask the workers – maybe they have a satellite phone? They do. But Viktor Ivanovich Bieloshapkin's phone is "out of service" and I achieve nothing. I ask whether they get deliveries of bread, because ours is nearly out. It turns out that no, and they have brought with them from Olyokma as much as they need for the entire stay in the taiga, but they still give me a loaf and refuse to accept money. "Here, in the taiga, one does not take money for bread" - I hear. I'm trying to keep up a good image of Poles and say that this is also true back home, though I'm not sure if that's still the case.
Some rain falls, we are considering various options, but the 'spirit rather fails us'. Leszek insists that he cannot cross the bridge over the Vitim a second time, so retreat is not an option. At that moment occurs, as though in a Greek drama, deus ex machina - a huge KRAZ appears, three Yakut men inside. They do not know the way, they're here for the first time and ask me (!!!) about fords. I tell them how things are, and they say they had already seen us earlier, the last time in Chara. We've been going along the same route a few days, so we are companions on the road and they will not leave us like that. They say that the three of them are coming from Moscow: Yegor, the owner of the truck, his son Lazar, and a second driver Volodya. They're on their way home, near Audan - some 500 miles north of Tynda. Yegor and his son come to us with a bottle of vodka, we serve some snacks and we become good mates. Fortunately, this time only one bottle is enough.
Yegor assures us that the cars can be hauled, but we must do this with the car door left open, so that the car gets flooded by water and loses buoyancy. He is an owner of a Toyota LandCruiser 80 and has some experience. Not everyone likes this idea, we have mixed opinions, but Leszek and I, and later the rest acknowledge that we ought to rely on Yegor's experience and risk it. Boguś has the most objections, and puts more faith in the plan of self-crossing below the camp, but he finally decides to go with others. The prevailing argument is that with the help of the KRAZ we should cope well also with the next river.
We get the vehicles ready, prepare the equipment, ropes, straps, shackles, winches, and luggage for the crossing and possible flooding – this will be a test of how well we thought through packing our cars. We get Leszek's car attached to the KRAZ and move... Unfortunately, only half way into the mainstream, the KRAZ sinks. When attempts to drive further fail, I get in the water to help Leszek. We open the front door, which the river current slammed shut, water pours inside; we release the rope of the winch and a 'lighter' KRAZ starts to go. The rope begins to stretch, we feel the jerk – and go! During the ride we shorten the winch rope, and when the KRAZ sinks again, we repeat the manoeuvre of loosening it again. Finally the KRAZ crawls out on the pebble beach on the other side of the river, and the winch pulls us behind it. In the car there's 20 cm of water, but we're on the other side!
The KRAZ returns for the other cars. It is still raining and begins to get dark, so Yegor wants to pull us all at once - all together, but first he must change the wheel punctured while crossing with Leszek's car. When at last we go – we get stuck. This time so hard that he is not even able to withdraw. We detach our cars, and bring a huge loader-bulldozer to pull the KRAZ out of the mainstream. It looks bad, it is getting late, but our Yakut friend does not give up. He proposes we connect the ropes to extend them as much as possible - so that he could gain some momentum and go through the most difficult part before we will begin to weigh him. Unfortunately, we lose again – buried a little further, in the middle of the stream. This time, Yegor does not want to ask the workers from the camp for help.
In the evening, over some wine, he tells us that the first time they warned him that if we get stuck a second time, they will not help for free. He decided that they were breaking the rules of the taiga and no longer wanted to ask them anything – and it was not even about the money, but principle. Left alone, we try to pull it out using our winches, which seems almost impossible, but - surprisingly - works! The three cars, arranged one behind the other, winched the huge KRAZ! He too, of course, did what he could. We take in Yegor's son, Lazar , chilled to the bone, as he has completely soaked his clothes during the crossing. We give him some dry clothes and sit him in a car with heating turned up to the max.
It's getting dark, raining harder, yet Yegor does not give up and wants to retry. This time it came up that he would go first, then we combine the rope, in order to drag the cars to the other side. Before he gets to the other side, it is almost dark, and the idea of connecting the lines in the middle of a raised mainstream and in the night does not seem feasible to us. Yegor urges us on the radio to do the crossing, but we decide that in the dark it would be too dangerous. Yegor insists that he is concerned that the water will raise further and tomorrow may already be too late for the crossing. Despite this, we decide to discontinue the efforts - the risk is too great, and the chances of success smaller and smaller.
So, Yegor and his second driver Volodya, Leszek's car and his crew partner Zbyszek, who crossed in the KRAZ's cab, reached the eastern bank and Yegor's son, Leszek and three cars with their crews - remain on the west. Leszek dons the wet suit and decides to cross at night to the other side to join Zbyszek and their car. It turns out that at the same time, Yegor decided that he will put on full diver gear he bought himself in Moscow and just cross the river. Zbyszek, with some difficulty, persuades him that it makes no sense, so in the end dressed only in the dry suit and fins he swims to us. Meanwhile Volodya raises the truck on a lift and in the pouring rain, completely soaked, fights with a rope wrapped on the wheel, lying under the unstable car. He went through the water pulling a steel cable and it got screwed between the twin wheels. Zbyszek expressed his surprise that to repair a wheel he would risk his life, but Volodia said that destiny is written, not made, so there's nothing to worry about.
On our bank, despite the rain getting stronger, we are trying to burn a fire. We make some instant noodles and treat our guests, just chatting about our trip, their travels in Russia and discussing what to do next. Yegor insists that he will not leave us, though he fears that the water can go up. Together with Krzysztof we convince him that he should go on and leave us - for him it is a matter of getting home, and only an adventure for us. He reluctantly agrees with our arguments and decides to cross the river with his son, and move on. The road by the railway bridge at this time is not an option - it's a few kilometres hike through the taiga and the tributaries of the river. Because it looks like we're saying goodbye for good, I offer Yegor $200 to cover his losses – the two damaged wheels, lots of gas used, not even counting the time spent. He steadfastly refuses. I'm trying to convince him that this is not a payment for assistance, but a reimbursement of his costs, but he remains adamant. So I decide that the least I can do is to escort them up the river along the bank. They need to go up, because the current will push them down anyway. I put on my headlight, we say goodbye to the rest of the crew and set off around midnight.
Yegor enters the water to test it, but two or three seconds later he emerges about 30 meters down the river and states that in this strength of the current they must enter the water yet a few hundred meters above from where we are. Easier said than done – there, the taiga comes down to the river and you cannot get to the bank. In a weather like this, entering the scrub means my clothes will be completely wet and this would be the second set, because the previous one - shoes, trousers and sweats – got soaked when I was helping Leszek while he got stuck in the river. Well, tough luck for me – I cannot leave them without a light and the only one that I have is my headlight... We make our way through the underbrush for about 15-20 minutes and then Yegor decides that should be enough. They both get into the water, but after a second or two the current separates them. I see that Yegor flows toward the center stream, because the suit gives him the displacement and the fins help to fight the current, but Lazar returns to our shore. I help him climb the sloping bank, about 3 meters high in this place, and we move through the dark and wet taiga, way back to camp. In such a forest one cannot walk straight, you have to avoid the hollows, fallen trunks and dense thickets, so it is difficult to control the direction of the march. When we finally turn right towards the river, it turns out that we cannot see the bank, and only the taiga around us. Subsequent attempts to find the path only make the situation worse – now I do not know where I am and which way to go. The thicket of standing and fallen trees, bushes, rain and night prevent any orientation. I remember the stories about bears and I start getting seriously concerned that we might have to spend the night in the taiga. I'm worried about myself, and even more about the boy - he is very cold, having been in the river. Without much hope of success I decide to call for help, although I know that the river water drowns out all noise. After the second cry of "Ryszard" I hear voices, and after a while I see the glow of our car's headlights. We are home. Later Ryszard tells me that he heard nothing, but he had a strange feeling that someone wants something from him, and guided by his instinct, he turned the light on. So there is something about that metaphysical aura of the Siberian taiga.
We find some more dry clothes for Lazar and over the CB in Leszek's car we set a plan with the boy's father for the next day. Yegor will go at night to the next crossing to get there before the river rises and Lazar will ford with us the next morning, and if we fail, walk along the tracks to the bridge on Aloka (approx. 20 km). There they will meet, because Yegor is certain he will wait for the railway crossing till Monday. Remek takes our guest in for the night, we find him a spare sleeping bag and a foam mattress. We hear the KRAZ departing from across the river and in the end we're all going to sleep. The next day, Leszek tells us how, after Yegor reached the eastern bank, the two of them sat in the cabin of the Toyota. Zbyszek went to bed earlier, and Volodya got one shot and went back to finish changing the wheels, while they strengthened the Polish-Yakut friendship with some box red wine he had brought from Poland. Yegor does not like the Russians, and always stresses that he is a Yakut.
Day ten, Sunday, August 19th
On Sunday morning the weather is better – at times even the sun comes out. The water rose only a few centimetres. As Leszek's car is on the east bank we have no choice, we have to cross, and we decide to do it the way invented yesterday, below our camping place.
After breakfast we prepare the cars and go. Nissan rides first and happily reaches the other shore, not even getting the rugs wet! Only once, passing the roots of a fallen tree, it was lifted into the middle of the river, got into a bigger swell into an underwater hole, but came out of this unscathed. Remek and Krzysztof's Toyota has bad luck – it enters the river 10 meters below, and encounters a local pit bottom. Worse still, at the bottom there is a tree-trunk, through which only the front wheels pass and the rear does not. They are stuck helpless in a deep vein, and the water floods the interior of their car... I pull up from behind and winch them to the shore. Now it is our turn - I go on the roof, Ryszard sits behind the wheel and Lazar stays at the back, on the crates. In we go. From up top I see the shape of the river bottom better and I can help Rysiek choose the optimal path. We're going a slightly different route than the Nissan did - I decide to drive through the lying tree trunk to avoid the hole into which our predecessors fell. It works. We pass smoothly through and a few seconds later we are on the east bank. Now, Toyota is going last - this time Remek crosses without any problems.
Next we follow the shallow water along the shore to the northeast, toward the BAM embankment and continue along the track. Unfortunately, the comfort of 'technical riding' on the embankment does not last long - we come across a railway bridge over a wide backwater and we need to retreat. We choose a side road, which turns out to be a dead end, but luckily for us the next attempt leads to success - we get on the main road, on which Yegor in his KRAZ and Leszek's Toyota had gone in the morning. We meet them on the shore of Taas-Yuryakh, we return the son to the father and decide that the KRAZ will travel to the other side, while we, as Ryszard has managed to persuade us we should do, try to ride alone, using a similar technique as before on the Imangra. Yegor already checked that below the 'official' ford the river is shallower and there is a second crossing, which also leads to the road. In any case I am going through the water on a reconnaissance and on the edge of the shallowing I set a mound of stones. It will help me in choosing the direction of travel. Brr, it’s cold - the water here is less than 10 Centigrade. The current is indeed slower, but there's greater depth. We decide to go the classic way: across the mainstream at a slant, downward angle of about 45 degrees. I'm going first, water pours in through the open doors, the wave covers the hood and almost comes to the windshield, but the Toyota is behaving perfectly. After a while we are on the opposite bank, where Yegor, Lazar and Vitaly, who drove the same route just before us, are waiting. In a moment, Leszek also moves and crosses without problems – we take photos of him from our side.
Other cars do not move, because in the Nissan a leaf spring broke and they are working on it together. As they work, we dry our cars. We conclude that there was no need to open the front door. It seems that it might make sense when one goes against the tide or current to the side, but with the current all you need to do is to open the back door to be on the safe side and there'll be less water pouring in. The water level is lower at the back anyway, because the water gets stacked in front of the hood in a higher tide and gradually sinks toward the back.
When the repair is over, Remek begins crossing the river in his Toyota, and this time he manages with no surprises. We're calmly waiting for the Nissan, but things do not go as planned. Having driven half of the crossing, about 40 meters from the shore the water enters the engine and Janusz, who is behind the wheel, immediately turns off the ignition. They stand in a deep stream, the water floods the interior, Boguś is struggling with the main current and winch rope, which he stretches toward us. In a hurry we mount the open boxes back on the roof and go to the bank, entering a few meters into the water. We stretch the winch rope and Leszek goes with it to Bogdan, to connect their line with ours. At the same time, Zbyszek pulls up behind us and Krzysiek attaches his winch to us so that we're belayed. We start pulling the Nissan and a few minutes later it is on the shore. It turns out that the water came not through the air filter, but probably from the turbo-compressor. After several attempts he manages to ignite it and the engine starts. Fortunately Janusz managed to kill it before too much water got into the engine. The gearbox is also flooded, so the Nissan crew has the additional job of replacing the oil.
Yegor, making sure that we no longer need his assistance, leaves for the bridge at Olyokma, and we arrange and dry out the cars, eat a wonderful dinner cooked by Ryszard, and follow them.
At the 500m long bridge on Olyokma we meet our friend and his KRAZ again. From Yegor we learn that today there is no one in the BAM office and we have to wait until tomorrow. We scout the bridge and admire the stunning views from its bays suspended several feet above the water, but nothing can be done – we have to wait. No one seems to worry - we traveled only 20 kilometres today, but they were some of the most important in our journey, so we all need to rest. We spend the evening with our Yakut friends by the fire and about 23:00 we go to sleep.
Day eleven, Monday, August 20th
As agreed the day before, at 6am Yegor, Leszek and I go to the bridge, because the office head goes to work about 6.30 and later he will be hard to find. From the trackman's booth Yegor calls the head's house number, but the wife says her husband did not return home for the night. We know that a group from Moscow was "in the region", so we guess that on Sunday evening the chief played host to the visiting committee and now is sleeping it off somewhere. The lineman is a silent curmudgeon type and nothing can be learned from him, apart from advice to try later, maybe around noon. When we go again to find out what is up with the boss, we find a new trackman on our side of the bridge, who took over his shift. He explains to us that the head is sometimes here and there, but that sooner or later he will be in contact with him and that, since everyone knows that we are waiting for the crossing, the decision will probably be in in the evening, and the passage itself is not a problem. He check that we have the money, and when I propose dollars, he is asking about the exchange rate. This sounds promising - it looks like he wants to do business. He suggests that, should he talk with the chief, he will come to look for us at the camp. He also informs us that the place shown on the map on the other side of Olyokma, Mostavoy, no longer exists and that the nearest shop is about 20 km along the tracks. He also confirms a story we overheard earlier about a young rail workman devoured by a bear a few months earlier, but Yegor calms us saying that bears are only dangerous in the spring when they are hungry. It is summer and there are enough mushrooms, berries and roots in the forest to keep the bears away from people.
We also hear that some two cars cross any single bridge a week, tops. Several years ago, there might have been more of them, but the traffic is dying down. Also, there are fewer freight trains – about 10 a day. Adding to this - two or three passenger trains, and the rest is the technical maintenance of rail tracks and stations. Surprisingly such a gigantic investment is practically unused... We discuss politics with the linesman some more , about the "good old days" when the Soviet Union aroused fear throughout the world and the economy of five-year plans provided prosperity to people like him... We tell him about the positive changes that we observe in Poland. Everyone remains in his own mind. We return to camp. We're killing time in different ways: Leszek gives Yegor diving training, we go swimming, we do laundry, the guys are working on the Nissan, we test the tear resistance of the rope – it breaks, and the Yakuts cook an 'ukha' with the night catch of fish and potato on the fire; we're all joking. The soup, which turned out to be very tasty, is washed down with a little vodka and a bottle of wine. Our last: things get scary - we haven't got any more.
Another trip to the signalman and the nearby railway station did not bring anything new – just as it was not known where the chief is, so it still is not known. I leave the linesman 500 rubles, and I promise a few times more, if only he comes up with a way to contact Bieloshapkin.
So, again, we are waiting, not knowing whether we will just wait an hour, or until the morning, or maybe a few days. Yegor finds quite a fresh pile of bear poo a hundred paces from the camp, and Zbyszek - an experienced hunter - confirms its authenticity. So the stories were true. Leszek loses two games of checkers to Lazar, then proposes to play chess, but the Yakuts do not want to play. Yegor says that he plays a game only if he knows how to do it well. His philosophy. On the map, they show me where they live, where they were born and where Lazar goes to school. Weather is generally good, fairly sunny and warm, but every few hours it threatens to rain. The rain in the end doesn't come, but the mosquitoes every now and then get mad and spoil the pleasure of camping. It is now early evening, and Yegor brings back the news that he came across cave drawings of primitive Evenks by chance. We're going upriver to see. Yegor, armed with a rifle, takes us a barely visible path along the shore. The fact that he has a weapon makes us feel safe, although slightly concerned that we go through marshy bogs, which bend under our weight... In the taiga, on the bank we find first the remains of some log houses and skeletons of primitive tents. Some are very old - they might be 70 or more, others clearly newer, but also probably no less than 30-40 years. Yegor explains that theses are remains of huts set by hunters, who used this point as a base to hunt on reindeer herds crossing the river. He tells us that the herd migrate twice a year: in the spring to the east, in the autumn to the west and can be encountered along the way as they generally cross rivers in fixed locations. He believes that this is one such place.
We go further and about 500m from the bridge, up the river on the west side we find the cave drawings made with an ochre-coloured, natural dye, which has already grabbed our attention before, as every now and then we saw stones and boulders in this colour, and sometimes old concrete elements.
We recognize the silhouette of a deer, wild boar, a few suns. Other symbols are more difficult to interpret, we believe that some of them show a procession of human figures, but we're not sure. We make pictures and speculate as to how old these drawings are. Yegor says that in Yakutia there's a lot of those, but he admits that he has not seen them with his own eyes – these are a first for him as for us. Big thing!
We go back towards the bridge with the intention to once again visit ‘our’ lineman in his booth on the other side, but hearing our voices Krzysztof starts calling that we come to the camp, because we have a guest. The guest turns out to be ‘our’ lineman who brings good news: an hour earlier the ‘missing’ head visited and reportedly agreed for us to cross tomorrow morning. This is either a coincidence, or the power of money. Moreover it turns out that the chief arrived by boat, because instead of being "in the region" he went to fish or hunt. This explains why the day before yesterday he was unavailable at any of the known numbers - the poor man had to rest after the tiring visit of the committee from Moscow. The only snag is that the consent is supposedly only for us, but not for the KRAZ. The lineman, however, says that tomorrow morning it probably could be arranged. I think this is only an attempt to get some extra money, so nothing serious. I really want to believe it, because I can not imagine how we could leave our Yakuts in trouble.
That day we did not drive even a meter.
Day twelve, Tuesday, August 21st
We all get up around 6 am and break camp. About 7.00 the cars are already at the bridgehead, and Leszek, Yegor, and I go to the linesman at the other end of the bridge. It takes a while before we get a chance to talk on the phone with the chief, but today everything is going quickly and smoothly. I explain that the KRAZ is with us and must also ride with us, because we still need its help in further fords. We agree the rate (20 thousand for 5 cars) and upon arrival of the crews under the direction of master linesmen begin crossing the bridge. The biggest problems are with the great KRAZ on the twins. We cross without problems - driving on the concrete slabs of the bridge is easier than on the wooden sleepers on the bridge in Kuanda. The crossing foreman warns us that we face two more tough fords, and shows them on the map. We head to Juktali, 19 km away, where we stop to replenish our food supplies and eat an impromptu breakfast. As usual in the BAM towns there is GSM coverage, but with an 8 hour time difference, we can only read text messages. It would be cruel to call the loved ones in Poland at this time. Yegor is a class act – when it comes to the farewell drink, he has a red Martini for those of us who do not like vodka. I saw this bottle on a shelf in the shop – he had to buy it moments later. We say goodbye, because they head home with no sleepovers, and so we have a different pace of travel and might not meet again.
The road, as roads go, is at times better, at times worse – but you can see that it is little frequented. We're following the tyre marks, often using the technical road by the tracks. We are moving quite fast: 30-40 km/h. Small, grey striped squirrels sometimes run across - Lazar told us that here are called 'burunduk'. The first of the designated fords is almost dried up, and we barely notice it. The second place indicated, namely Nizhnaya Subielga, is impressive: a wide mountain river with strong current. Four days ago it would have been a problem, but now we know how to do it: in the current at a slant, to the shallowing in the middle, down, and a moment later to the other side. None of the cars have difficulty crossing, so we roll up the prepared winch pilots and drive away.
Standing on the road we see Yegor's KRAZ. It turns out that they caught a flat tyre and are changing it, but ensure that they will manage, so we go on. The road seems a little better, but mostly we are moving on the embankment, along the technical road. When it brings us to the wide river Chil'cha, we are confident that this is an obstacle we can handle. I'm going with Boguś to the railway bridge, towering some 15-18 m above the bottom of the river valley and, having a perfect view from above, we choose the route, which we assess as optimal. It is true that the current is very fast and in two places, which we have to cut, the current is particularly rapid, but on the bottom and in the shallows we see tire tracks of cars that were driving that way before. Water does not seem too deep, so we are confident it will be a successful crossing. Nay, we are so confident that we're not even preparing winches.
I choose a spot on the shore and set off first. Just in case, I choose a track driving about 10 meters above the river current than the optimal one. Already after the first 20 meters, I feel that something is wrong - the car slows down and, despite my efforts at pushing the accelerator to the floor, it begins to lose power. I feel like I'm driving up an increasingly steep mountain. In addition, the bottom must be littered with boulders that were not visible, because the suspension ‘is doing its best’ and the car is all over the place. We are going ever slower, and I begin pouring sweat, because I feel that in a moment we will stop.
Thank God that I have the 10-12 meters of slack and I do not always have to go straight up the mainstream. Several times I turn right, and the water pressure decreases a little, and after an infinitely long time (at least I feel it is so) I start to climb the shallow in the middle of the river. And here's another surprise - even though the water is ankle-high, the small pebbles that line bottom behave like quicksand, and I'm still not fully in control. Finally, the engine recovers speed, accelerates, and I drive into the next dip in the bottom, where water flows particularly quickly, as fast as I can. It might be only 8-10 m, but if the current pushes us right, it will be really bad ... The water floods the bonnet for a moment, but we're on a great dry island. From here to the other side is a piece of cake.
Over the CB radio I warn that the passage upstream proved much harder than we recklessly assumed, but I do not know if the crew on the other side can hear me. And even if they do, nothing can be done – we need to go on. Other cars move to cross one at a time in small increments - so that it looks nice on film, which Krzysztof has to shoot from above, from the railway bridge he climbed with the camera. Zbyszek in Leszek's Toyota starts almost from the same spot as I did, to his left is Remek and a bit further, a moment later, Janusz in the Nissan. I see that Remek is having the same problems as me, but he reaches the shallows. The Nissan also gets through the mainstream of the river – it seems he was the best out of all of us. Both are ahead of the car driven by Zbyszek, who either has not got enough 'slack' on the right side and has to go almost straight against the current, or for some other reason is clearly slowing down. Then he stops completely and begins to move with the current. We'll never know whether the current first began to push him and then he got that flat, or the other way round – we can only guess that he probably lost a wheel first, and this resulted in slower driving. All in all, after a while the current pushes them from the shallows on which they drove, and the car is helplessly stuck in deep water. The outlook is not optimistic: there's an underwater slope in front of them, which they just fell off of and behind them more and more depth. They stand in a place so deep that the water starts pouring in through the lowered side windows!
Janusz and Boguś, who had just arrived at the shallow, seeing what happened to Leszek's car, turn back a wide arc and go in their Nissan to help. Perhaps several seconds they reach the edge of the escarpment, off of which the Toyota slipped, and stop in the strong current vis-a-vis the ‘sinking’ car, which is visibly inclined to the right, and give them the winch rope. Leszek cannot open the locked door, so he crawls out the open window. Our lack of respect for that crossing is taking its vengeance – we are losing valuable time to prepare equipment, and the hastily unwound Toyota winch rope is taken by the swift current, rolls off the loosened swing blocks and flows out of our hands. Fortunately, it was already tied with the Nissan rope, so we do not lose it, but more precious minutes pass. The boys wade in the icy water, fall over in the strong current, and are becoming increasingly cold...
Attempts to get the Toyota up the underwater slope off of which it slipped, do not work - it later turns out that they lost both right wheels and the suspension of the car lay on the bottom. Remek, seeing what's going on, moves in to help them – about a minute too soon, before I'm ready to give him my rope as safety. Together with the Nissan they are using the combined forces trying to pull Leszek out and I keep my fingers crossed for them, because they are so far away that if they fail, I do not know if, and how, I could help them... But the guys manage – Leszek's Toyota gets drawn on to the slope. The rest is just a tedious, but simple job. Once Remek reverses from the main current on to the shallows, together we pull Leszek's damaged car to the first shallowing, where the levers can be set up and the two damaged tyres replaced. The Nissan is already on the island, and an extremely chilled Leszek warms up in the cabin of my car, thanks to the heating which is on full. When the wheels are already changed, it appears that something is wrong with the locks and the Toyota in which Zbyszko is, cannot even move from place – it just gets buried deeper and deeper in the moving rolled pebbles. There is no way out - Remek and I cross to the island, and from there drag the car out on our winches, unfortunately, again, through a fairly deep current.
At the time when we finish our rescue, on the western shore the KRAZ appears with our Yakut mates. We observe as they enter into the water even lower than we did and will inevitably be pushed into the mainstream. The momentum of the water and the moving bottom are an insurmountable challenge for their car. Yegor is fighting, retreating, moving, but in effect, the hood is now facing toward the shore from which they came, rather than ours. From where we stand, we cannot help him in any way.
His situation is hopeless: standing in the middle of the river, buried in water, at least one meter deep, from where the car will not move by itself either front or back. The evening is coming, and before one of them reaches the track and has a chance to stop a technical train, reach the nearest village to get help and come back to the river, it will at best be midnight. At night, there's not much they can do and by the morning the water will wash it out so much, that I'm not even sure what machine you'll need to bring in to pull him out.
I am afraid that if we go back to the western bank, there's only a shadow of a chance that we'll be able to help him. Then later, back against the current, we can end up like Leszek with the torn tires. Nevertheless, we cannot leave Yegor. Remek thinks the same and agrees to go with me - in two cars we stand a chance. Krzysztof and Janusz decide to come with him. We get moving and luckily both of our cars reach the other bank – going down the current is also exciting, but fortunately, it's not the same as fighting against it. We set ourselves up on the bank facing more or less towards the KRAZ and attach all the pieces we have, thus extending the coverage of our winch ropes. From the KRAZ Vasily and Lazar pull the steel cable through the water, while Ryszard in his waders and Janusz in his previously soaked shoes are going to meet them with our bridles. When everything is ready, we turn on both winches and once again it proves that they have enough power to draw up such a load. A few minutes later the KRAZ is on the shore. Yegor and I talk about which way to go, and immediately we plan what we will do if he gets stuck on the way: he will not try anything, just stop with the hood facing the island on which we have our temporary base, and we'll drag him there. Of course, that is if we succeed to happily go back on this island. We owe the base to Leszek, who, at the time we were pulling the KRAZ out, set up a makeshift kitchen and boiled water for instant soup and coffee.
Re-crossing the stream - even though both Remek and I already know what awaits us and which way to go - is just as stressful as the first time. The Toyotas use their last bits of power, but both go upstream, with some difficulty speed up in the shallows, and somehow get onto the island, from where we observe the course of events.
We watch as the KRAZ follows our lead, but it is too heavy - the ground moves from under the wheels and it gets stuck. This time, we know we'll drag it out: we have four cars, the right amount of bridles and shackles, we are well lined up. The only thing we underestimate is the force with which the current pulls at the extensions of rope winches. Ryszard, who went in towards the KRAZ must call for help - he is not able to hold on to the hook. I quickly take off my boots, trousers and go in barefoot, because I see that there is no time to go looking for shoes, and I run to help him. The two of us also do not stand a chance. We cry for help – Remek responds first, a moment later Leszek, who, though he was busy cooking, heard our cries. Both drop their trousers and shoes and run to help. Only being four do we master the situation. During this time, the KRAZ managed to drive some tens of meters in our direction on its own, but even in the shallows the pebbles moving beneath the wheels turn out to be a barrier. It gets stuck again, but this time it is close enough that we can hook up to it and three winches ‘comfortably’ draw it on to our island.
We're all greatly relieved. And it seems our luck is turning: even the problem with the locking in Leszek's Toyota solves itself and the car is back in working order. The KRAZ pulled out, no loss of equipment. I talk to Yegor, and we come to the conclusion that were it not for our problems, we would not have waited for him, and there would not have been anyone to pull him out of trouble. So all's well that ends well. I do not mention that we were afraid to go to get him - after all, the most important is that we did.
We dry ourselves, we change, we eat hot soup. Dusk falls, but we decide to go with the lights on, at least partly to make up for time spent crossing the river and to even stand a chance to reach Tyndy during the day tomorrow. We have about 250 km left.
So for the second time we say goodbye to our Yakut friends and head off. The road is in surprisingly good condition, with well-maintained bridges, some even fairly new. Despite the darkness, we are moving forward quickly, but we are tired - about 22:45 we start to look for a place to stay, checking each fork. Zbyszek jokingly asks for the perfect “place by the water, but without the mosquitoes”. At around 23:00 the scout pulls over at a bridge over the Kururak river, a tributary of Niukza, and we decide to stay on a rocky beach.
Only in the morning do we fully appreciate the advantages of this place: clean river, no mosquitoes or blackflies (!!!), a shoal of sand on which we set the tents, a pretty, green area. The place is worth remembering (N 55deg56'653” E 122deg35'376”).
On that day we drove 157 km.
Day thirteen, Wednesday, August 22nd
We sleep like a bunch of babies - yesterday we decided that we sleep until we wake up. I wake up around 8:15, Zbyszek is already up. After about 15 minutes, Krzysztof gets up and I put on some loud music while the whole camp is slowly waking up. We order up our supplies, we make breakfast, we check the cars, some dare to swim in the river – tempting, at about 8 Centigrade. Brr... As if to reward us for yesterday's toil and stress it is a beautiful sunny day, cumulus clouds in the sky and still no mosquitoes!
Leszek recalls a story about mosquitoes he heard from Yegor: Yakuts are probably the only nation that finds a mosquito bite a joyful thing, more - it is even a reason to celebrate. Why? The first mosquito bite of the year is considered to mark the end of winter and arrival of spring, and Yakuts have good reasons not to like the winter.
Around 10:45 we are ready to leave. I pour the contents of the last two canisters into my tank.
Now we have about 130-140 litres in our tanks, and less than 200 km to Tynda ahead of us. The road to Tynda turns out to be a good quality gravel road. Bridges are maintained in good condition, there begin to appear signs by the road, plaques with the names of rivers and towns we pass by. We pass a bulldozer, levelling the road surface and a team placing a new railing on the bridge. From the opposite side, every few minutes somebody is coming. The only thing that we mind is the dust – for many days we have had alternating rain and good weather, so we are not accustomed to the clouds of dust. However, today's sunny and hot day reminds us of this scourge of all gravel roads. It is particularly troublesome for our car, because after the collision with Remek the back door is damaged and can not be closed properly, so dust gets inside in obscene amounts.
Around 17.00 we enter Tynda – an important Siberian city at the crossroads of rail lines with a federal road leading north to Yakutsk and the Kolyma on to Magadan. So it is doable.
The city has about 35-40 thousand residents and a few days earlier, on the 08.08 to be exact, it celebrated its centenary. The lack of a long tradition is visible to the naked eye – the place looks like a housing estate from the 70s. High, concrete blocks of flats among poorly-kept greens. There is also no clear town centre – there is a main street called the Arbat, but the only thing that we find interesting is a kiosk selling grilled chicken.
At the vulcanizing repair shop we get our three wheels changed, while listening to the unflattering and unfortunately wholly justified comments about the quality of our inner tubes. We get advised to buy the thicker and supposedly much stronger inner tubes for GAZ. In contrast, our Toyotas and their additional fixtures get us recognition – a proud owner of a Toyota HZJ year 99 comes in especially to meet us, lured by a telephone call from the guys at the workshop. He likes ours exhaust, modified by Piotr, I like the extended wheel arches on his car. This guy gives me a lift to the store where good quality fluid for the steering system can be bought. It will come handy, because earlier Zbyszek confessed that he lost some of the fluid in his car and ‘borrowed’ from other cars using a syringe.
At the same time, the Nissan guys are at a local garage, changing oil in the gearbox and engine. Since the accident at the ford, despite the efforts and the partial replacement of oil, they still have oil mixed with water. They also strengthen the broken spring with an additional clamping ring, because to have a new leaf made would require an overnight stop in Tynda to which we have neither the inclination nor time.
All of these works unfortunately take time, so we leave Tynda late, around 20:45, and follow the federal highway to the south. The first few miles are asphalt, but from the people we met in Tynda we know that the road will continue - and I quote verbatim – to “get fucked”. Indeed, despite the status of a federal highway, the road is just a 10 m wide gravel road, where, from time to time, there are larger holes and bumps. On it, there is a lot of larger and smaller stones, and the sunny weather makes each car pull behind it a dust cloud. The Nissan – despite the oil change - additionally drags behind it a plume of smoke from the exhaust pipe and you have to drive far enough from it not to feel the characteristic 'aroma' of burning oil. But for us this road is no problem - we're going at a speed of 40-45 km/h, sometimes even a little faster. Two hours later, after driving 82 km, we stop overnight by a small stream. The place is neither nice nor safe. We are just off the road, visible to every passing vehicle, but doubt that in the dark we would manage to find anything better, and it is already late. No one is hungry thanks to the grilled chicken eaten in Tynda, so we give up making dinner and go to sleep at around midnight.
That day we travelled 298 km.
Day fourteen, Thursday, August 23rd
Remek and Krzysztof get up early and when about 7:15 we emerge from our cars and tents, breakfast is already waiting. Unfortunately, it has been raining from 4:00 in the morning, with only minor interruptions, so we try to eat breakfast as quickly as possible and by 8:35 we are back on the road. Krzysztof managed to swap two more rubber pads in the shock absorbers. These were probably the last original ones we had – what we are left with is a stockpile of different dimensions, non-original rubbers, bought before and more recently in Tynda.
Our 'federal' road seems a little better – we can go about 60 km/h. After an hour, a compulsory stop, because Leszek gets a flat tyre and we have to replace the right, rear wheel. The critical review of the quality of our tubes was not unfounded... After a short stop we go on; there's a slight drizzle - at least no dust, though. The road winds its way through the woods and smallish hills. Sometimes we pass a village and the road gets narrower, but 'in exchange' it is covered with cracked and rutted asphalt. In larger villages, you will see grocery stores, and there is GSM coverage. But besides this, things follow a standard: poor houses, cobbled together from wood, all covered with corrugated sheets of eternit, surrounded by shabby yards. A rather sad sight.
Our road, M56, should in the vicinity of the Never cross the Trans-Siberian highway. The problem is that the new highway, called 'putinovka', is still under construction and it is not clear which sections are passable and which are not. Two car atlases show two different options: either before Never we turn right on to the 'putinovka', or we go a little further south on the old road through Skovorodino. The Nissan driver chooses the second option, and it is hardly surprising: the intersection with 'putinovka' pre-Never is one big construction site and it seems unlikely that this part has already been put into use.
Past Skovorodino we turn northwest, along the track of the Trans-Siberian railway, and after a while we pass under a viaduct, clearly new, and overhead is most likely the 'putinovka'. The road we are on is getting worse, winds gradually to the west, then southwest and finally brings us back to the 'putinovka'. It seems that somewhere earlier we missed the chance to enter the new highway, but most importantly we are now already on it. The road is new, very broad, often has metal guard rails on the sides and is raised - as always in Siberia - on an embankment. However, it is quite a bumpy gravel road without a hard surface – the asphalt is apparently part of the plans for the future... We drive at a speed of 50 km/h, but the cars still shake. It is past noon, the road is dry, maybe it didn't rain here? In any case, the dust is getting to us no less than the jumps on potholes. The area is rather flat, usually you cannot see anything beyond the birch trees on both sides of the road. We are often passed by passenger cars without number plates, going faster than us. These are the 'transporters' driving cars from Japan, to be sold. From west to east the movement is minimal: we pass by two 'European' motorcycles, a cyclist laden with luggage and a passenger car on Italian plates. The weather is getting better, the landscape is also changing -we are again in the midst of smallish hills, overgrown with young taiga.
By the way, all throughout our journey the taiga around us is 'young' - on the face of it the forest may be at most 15-25 years, no matter whether larch or birch. There are few old trees and as for a really old forest, I cannot even remember one. We often see traces of older and newer forest fires. Had all the old forests been cut back in the ‘good old times of the USSR?’
Around 14:00 we stop at a small stream for a swim, some soup and to rest. An hour later, we move on, to stop a few hours later at a gas station level with the village Amazar, where we refuel. The Nissan crew indicate problems, so we leave them the satellite phone and we continue only in the Toyotas. Taking after the 'transporters' we decide to go significantly faster: 75-85 km/h. At this speed vibrations are less troublesome, but if we get on bumps, and sometimes on a whole series of bumps, the car almost jumps in the air. A difficult test for the suspension and the mounting of our luggage - especially for the luggage compartments on the roof. At around 19:00, past Mogocha, the 'putinovka' ends and then we go on a bumpy, narrow ‘federal’, taking over dozens of cars with steering wheels on the right going on their own wheels, on car transporter carriages or small vans. How much of that junk goes west!
As agreed with Nissan, at about 20:00 we go down to a village (I think it is called Klyuchevskiy) on the side and find a clearing over a broad, where we spend the night. Ryszard starts the grill, we get out the wine bought in Tynda and ... bad luck - Krzysztof breaks a bottle. We also have a more serious problem: lack of bread. Somehow, we haven't counted properly and only have one loaf to the eight of us for both dinner and breakfast. Zbyszek and Leszek go to the village and return with two loaves – they weren't able to buy more. Even this much is good.
When we're sitting by the fire we decide with Janusz and Boguś that the Nissan will go separately tomorrow - after they lost the second shock today, they can't go as fast as we. They plan to go slower, but for longer stretches - so as to find us for the night. If it doesn't work - we will look for one another at Chita, where they hope to buy and install new shock absorbers. At the garage in Tynda they learned that shock absorbers for Kamaz should fit. In case we need to be contacted, I give Boguś my satellite phone, but we hope mobile phones will suffice.
That day we travelled about 430 km
Day fifteen, Friday, August 24th
It is pouring from early in the morning. When we wake up about 7:15, Leszek and Zbyszek, who got up early to prepare breakfast, look like they bathed in a nearby pond in their clothes. We eat in a hurry and get in the cars.
At about 8:15 we leave the mining half village-half town, next to which we had spent the night. The surroundings are grim: among the heaps and abandoned pits stand the completely run down concrete ruins of old industrial buildings. Next to them some rural huts herd together, surrounded by poor and dirty yards. No church nor store in sight - nothing. The road is dreadful: narrow and bumpy clay. Soon we come to the next mining town or perhaps village called Davenda. We get lost a bit, I ask for directions, we go back a bit. The Japanese cars are nowhere to be seen, so Leszek comes to the conclusion that we're going the wrong way. I am having my doubts too, because the road goes south east instead of west. We decide to go back, but we come across a 'transporter' who explains that this is the right way.
I get out in the rain, to ask him directions, but this sets off a tirade about the goddamn life, mess and misery of Russia and talks about his sister, who married a German, went to the Federal Republic and lives well there, while he is here. All this in the pouring rain, in the middle of a muddy dirt road. After getting the necessary information I bid my farewells and again we go on a road in such a bad condition that this probably the worst we have been on so far. Around 9:30 we get to the 'highway under construction’, and again we go - and finally in the right direction - among the flocks of Japanese cars with steering wheels on the wrong side. But the road is now a continued horror. It's not even a road under construction, it is a build for an embankment to be made a road at some point, and even that, in some sections seems to be in a very, very preliminary phase.
The shaking is unbelievable, especially since in a hurry, and with the capabilities of our Land Cruisers we can afford to overtake the dozens of vehicles carried west by the ‘transporters’. Ryszard, behind the wheel of our car, steers between the gravel nooks, road rollers, bulldozers and trucks - just forward and on. The other drivers, Remek and Zbyszek, are struggling the same way. I wonder how the suspension of our cars will pass this test. After about a hundred kilometers we stop at a roadside 'Cafe' to get something warm. There's 480 km from here to Chita. Some of us are risking borscht, which turns out to be quite tasty, while others limit themselves to coffee or tea. We set off and soon cross the river Tshernaya. Past the bridge the road is already clearly better, and we can accelerate to 70-80 km/h. It is still shaking terribly, but there is a significant improvement, and even the traffic is much smaller. From the drivers we met in the 'Cafe' we know that the worst stretch of road is already behind us. The weather also improves - the rain at last ceased at around 12:45 and the first sun rays appear.
Further driving is the monotony of the poor quality of ‘putinovka’ - until the town of Zhyreken, where we go down to shop. We've not seen anything like it. It is a dying town, full of slum-like, crumbling blocks of flats and buildings that look like a cross between barracks and factories. Drunk pedestrians, the atmosphere of hopelessness and confusion, seem so great that in comparison with this place Tynda now looks like a thriving city. Once again, the old truth that everything depends on the frame of reference is confirmed. In the local shop we buy bread, mineral water, some canned food, fruit and sweets and as soon as we can we return to the main road. And there's a pleasant surprise: the asphalt, at last! We speed up to 100km/h and in a better mood now go west. Outside our windows the landscape changes: forests give way to vast meadows, you can say steppes. Sometimes a field on which grain has been sown, but the vistas are dominated by meadows, and in the villages we're passing I see buildings looking like barns, or sheepfolds. In my mind's eye I can see the great herds of cattle that should graze here, but the reality is much poorer: here and there goes a herd of several dozen cows, and that's all. In the next village called Chernyshevsky we go off the main road, which is being renovated in this place, and using a designated detour we pass through the city. Along the way we pass some pretty neat petrol stations, shops, a 'Cafe' - a completely different atmosphere than 30 kilometres before. We return to the main road, but a dozen miles in, unfortunately, the asphalt ends and again it shakes us on the rough gravel. It is not as bad as the one on which we were in the morning, but it’s not comfortable either.
Because it is already warm and sunny, we stop to drink some coffee and dry the tents rolled in the rain. We get off the road onto an open field, near a small stream, make some coffee, change the air filters and Krzysztof swaps the rubber under the spring in my car. It would be very nice if not for a slight rain, which leads us to pack up and leave. So we go on, admiring the magnificent play of light: while a light rain falls, the sun shines, giving the landscapes special color and sharpness. We stop for a moment admiring a magnificent rainbow and go on further - to the west. Leszek goes first and sets a murderous pace: despite the roughened gravel surface, full of holes and stones laying scattered about, we are at times going over 90km/h. I can hardly keep up with him. Fortunately, about 19:00 we're on the asphalt again. I hope this is the better part of the road we were told about. Reportedly about 130 km from Chita begins a ‘normal’ highway, and it goes on up to Ulan Ude. It is almost time for us to start looking for a place to stay and at the second approach, at 20:15 in a young forest we find a quiet clearing and set the camp. Over the satellite phone we give the Nissan fellows the co-ordinates of the place - so that they can find us when they arrive here at night. From the conversations it seems they are about three to four hours’ drive from here. We eat dinner, and the weather breaks. Again, it starts to rain.
That day we drove 460 km
Day sixteen, Saturday, August 25th
We go to Ulan-Ude bypassing Chita. We reach it in the evening and check into the hotel 'Buryata'. In the evening, we eat dinner in a hotel restaurant – a very tasty Baikal fish, Omula.
Day seventeen, Sunday, August 26th
We spend the day in Ulan-Ude. We wait for the Nissan. When they arrive at about midday we go visit the ethnographic park, then eat lunch at a very good Tatar restaurant 'Genghis Khan'. After lunch, we stroll through town to the hotel, and in the evening go out to a nice pub on Lenin street. The boys in the Nissan set off, using the evening to do a 'prepayment' on a portion of tomorrow's route. Things don't go well for them – first, they discover, after having driven about 60 km, that the ferry on the Selenge is open until 19 and had to return to Ulan-Ude, then instead of in the direction of Ust-Barguzin, they went to a mine. Around 4.00 in the morning they only did a 100 km in the right direction tops and went to bed exhausted.
Day eighteen, Monday, August 27th
We buy 18 tubes of thick rubber, repair two wheels damaged before, one in my car - again, tube wear. We're going to Ust-Barguzin. Along the way we buy freshly smoked Omulas and at a beautiful spot on the shore of Lake Baikal, we break for lunch.
In Ust-Barguzin we arrange accommodation and car storage with Sasha, who we read about in the guide. Before that, we go once again to the Lake Baikal to drink a toast with South African wine. We have some fun, off-road driving in the dunes and on the beach. We spend the evening by the fire in Sasha's enclosure along with some tourists from Moscow.
That day we travelled about 260 km
Day nineteen, Tuesday, August 28th
In the morning our ship rolls in and around 9:00 we embark. The first dive is at the edge of the Holy Nose peninsula, the second - after dinner - by one of the Ushkani Islands. The water is really cold: at a depth of about 40m in this spot it's just 4 Centigrade. We spend the night on another island of the same archipelago.
Day twenty, Wednesday, August 29th
In the morning, after breakfast, we dive in a place where there is a fairly strong current, by one of the Ushkani islands (I think the name is ‘Round’). An interesting dive along the rocky slope. At the surface, in the waters beside the ship seals shows up, the local nerpa, but keep at a safe distance and we can only see their heads. After diving we berth at the next island (‘Long’ or ‘Narrow’) and go to the other side, to see seals lounging on rocks. A second dive after we return – but only 5 go under water. There's only sand.
We set sail, and after moving to another spot the Russian crew are catching fish in the streams of water thrown out by the ship's propeller, while the ship's fore is anchored or actually thrust into the coastal bottom. The method is surprisingly effective. In the evening we sail to bathe in the thermal springs in the bay north of the Holy Nose peninsula. In the evening we sail to spend the night at anchor port. Throughout the day we have beautiful, sunny weather. It is warm, though in the shade when the ship is sailing you can already feel the chill of autumn.
Day twenty one, Thursday, August 30th
Early in the morning we start sailing towards Port Barguzin. It promises to be a sunny, warm day, although for the moment, in the shade it is still very cold. Morning dive at a woody shore, near a rocky beach - just four of us diving and two Russians. This is the last dive. The wind increases, which creates fairly steep short waves. We give up the idea of a barbecue on the shores of Holy Nose and sail directly to Ust Barguzin, where we go to land from the ship. At about 17:30 we get on the road to Irkutsk to do about 200 - 250 km in that direction even that evening. Before leaving Ust Barguzin at the door of ‘Misha's’ home we leave three thousand rubles and a short letter stating that the money is from us for accommodation and parking.
The road along the east coast of Lake Baikal is under construction: there are sections of asphalt, sometimes even in good condition, old bits of gravel and sections under earthworks. Weather is still good. Clouds of dust from the tires of trucks carrying timber that we overtake hinder our driving.
We reach the ferry over the Selenga about 22:00, when it is completely dark. The wait is short, the ferry passes to our side and together with three other cars we enter the deck, then cross the river, at this point some 400-500m wide. On the other side we pay for the crossing (about 120 rubles per car) and move on. Before we can find a convenient place to stay, we go about 20 km further.
That day we forgo dinner and spend the evening with a bottle of wine - literally, the six of us to one bottle! We talk about the events in Poland, the recent arrests and the falling share prices of companies controlled by Krauze.
That day we travelled 240 km.
Day twenty two, Friday, August 31th
We get up before eight, quickly gather and head off. We have about 350 km to our final destination. We have breakfast in a roadside 'Cafe'. I call Oleg from my car and set to meet him in the hotel in Irkutsk in the afternoon, around 15:00. The road is a quality – asphalt all the time. We pass the Selenga delta, then we drive along the shores of Lake Baikal, and then about 100 km through the mountains to Irkutsk.
We arrive at the hotel ‘Europe’, where our drivers and guys from Carcade are waiting, just before 16:00. The Nissan crew, who yesterday separated themselves from us and went to Ulan-Ude in search of a garage due to problems with the radiator and the need to replace the springs, reaches the hotel at night. Here, at the hotel in Irkutsk, our Siberian loop is closed - the journey is over. We are back in ‘Europe’ ...
Day twenty three, Saturday, September 1st
A taxi ride to the airport and we fly West – to Poland, with its raging politics... Doesn't make you want to go back...