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DAY 176 | 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 8th, 2013 Polish friends. My Bibioli partially prevented
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  the rain and condensation from seeping into my sleeping bag
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  last night. I was cold when I woke up, but
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  the heat of the day arrived with the rising sun and my gear was
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  dry even before I finished breakfast.
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  I hadn't gone far when I met a Polish couple in their 30s
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  biking down the road in the same direction I was heading.
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  They spoke English and told me they are on a six week tour
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  exploring the Back Rd. to Mongolia.
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  They came from the north where they went two days without
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  seeing anyone at all. Today they got on the main road
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  that I've been following. Calling the quiet dirt track a
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  main road felt like a stretch, but they were eager to get back
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  to somewhere without any people at all.
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  While we stood in the road chatting, two more cyclists
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  arrived from the other direction, a British couple in
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  their 40s, just a week into their tour from ulaanbaatar to
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  Thailand. They asked me about the hills
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  ahead, and when I described the mountain they'll be climbing
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  today, a dreary expression fell across their faces.
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  I wondered what they were expecting.
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  The world is covered in hills, I suggested they might like biking
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  in Russia. The Polish couple and I stayed
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  together into the afternoon before parting ways.
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  I continued E while they turned N to find somewhere more remote.
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  They were noticeably bothered by the 10 cars that passed us
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  today. I enjoyed their company but was
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  just as glad to be back on my own.
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  Despite the harsh and desolate nature of Mongolia, the land
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  itself has a gentle quality. The mountains roll like waves,
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  without cliffs or sharp edges. The valleys are spacious and
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  flat with shallow, meandering rivers.
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  There's nothing tall or deep. This is why I was so surprised
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  to arrive on the lip of a Canyon 200 feet across with 70 foot
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  cliffs dropping to a slope of broken stone in a large, fast
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  flowing river. I had discovered the Chalute
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  River Gorge cutting through the earth like a wound in the
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  otherwise unmarred land. I was just as surprised when the
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  gorge disappeared and only four miles I reached the place where
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  the water flowed on top of the land.
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  The road crossed the river there over a narrow bridge.
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  I've been cooking at night and every eight days or so I need to
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  find more diesel fuel for my stove.
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  Today I filled my aluminum fuel bottle at A1 pump gas station
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  outside of a small town. I didn't notice the lid wasn't
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  sealed. When I put the bottle back in my
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  panyer, most of the fuel leaked out, saturating the towel given
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  to me at the Russian gas station and contaminating some of my
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  drinking water. I was set up to camp high on a
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  hill when I discovered my mistake.
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  I didn't want to carry the gas soaked towel with me, nor did I
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  want to leave the towel there. I placed the wet fabric in a
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  pile on the ground and got out my lighter.
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  I ignited the gasoline fumes just as the stars were coming
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  out. A small fireball engulfed the
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  towel and quickly grew much bigger and brighter than I
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  expected, flaring up higher than my waist and lasting a full
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  minute before exhausting the fuel.
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  I wondered if I'd drawn anyone's attention to investigate.
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  From my perch on the hill, I looked out 20 miles to the
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  horizon. The land was dark and still, and
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  for as far as I could see, there's nobody and nothing.