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DAY 174 | Mongolia | How To Move The Stars | A bicycle ride around the world · How To Move The Stars | A bicycle ride twice around the world

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  August 6th, 2013 Biking a River Valley I followed A flowing
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  river through a wide, gentle valley with large trees
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  scattered along the banks and clinging to hilltops.
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  Small groups of white yurts were scattered with miles between
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  them. Cloud shadows speckled the
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  rolling landscape. The sandy Washboard Rd. limited
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  my pace to that of a slow jog, and I bicycled A relatively
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  short 36 miles before stopping a few hours before sunset.
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  I needed to rest. The long days and jarring roads
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  have beaten me up. The knee I fell on a week ago
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  has begun to ache again. My right Achilles tendon has
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  been sore for days. The delicate balance of this
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  journey is to maintain a pace that is not so fast that I
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  injure myself and not so slow that I lose hope of ever
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  arriving. My camp is set up along a thin
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  stream with my sleeping bag laying between cow patties.
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  As evening approach I tuned my bike, played guitar and watched
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  the clouds drift by. A young girl and her father
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  found me as they were hurting yaks back towards their yard.
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  Both of them were riding brown horses with cropped manes and
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  short legs. All the people here ride short
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  horses. Mongolians are generally short,
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  and this makes the horses easier to climb onto.
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  That's my theory, at least. The two of them dismounted to
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  say hello, and the father's horse would leave themselves
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  right next to my things. I thought to be offended, but
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  there's already a lot of manure all around me.
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  They were guests in my home, so I gave them a tour.
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  I showed them where I parked my bike and where I sleep on the
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  ground. I pointed to the kitchen where
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  my stove SAT, then gestured outward with my arms to indicate
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  the rest of the world was my living room.
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  The father asked to try my bike, and I let him go for a spin.
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  He sat on the top tube to reach the pedals, did a short loop
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  through the grass. When he returned, jokingly, I
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  pointed to his horse to ask if I could try.
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  He laughed and firmly said no. The girl was about 12 years old.
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  She's barefoot and wore a purple sweater that said in English You
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  rock my world. I played her a song on guitar
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  while her father rode my bicycle.
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  Before I finished, her face made clear that she was not
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  impressed. She asked me to play something
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  else, something better. I tried a different tactic and
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  gave her the bracelet of black stones gifted to me 3 weeks ago
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  in Russia. She smiled and put the elastic
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  band on her wrist. Tonight the sky is beautiful and
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  clear. I can see a bright satellite
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  racing NA group of horses is nearby, dozen of them running
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  around in the dark and farting. I'm tucked in against my bike
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  once again, hoping that I don't get trampled.