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DAY 167 | 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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  July 30th, 2013 Migrant workers A few miles from where I camped,
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  I biked into the relatively large town of Olenkam,
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  consisting mostly of square fenced in lots with round yurts
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  inside. I went to a small market to buy
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  bread and jam, and was surprised to find a freezer with ice cream
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  had one option, an ice cream bar on a stick made from goat's
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  milk. The flavor wasn't nearly as
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  sweet as I expected, more like a cheese than an ice cream.
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  I didn't mind. The day was hot and I was glad
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  to find something cold to eat. So I was leaving the store.
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  A man pulled me back inside. He wanted me to buy him vodka.
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  Instead. I brought him to my bike and
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  pulled out the beer given to me two days ago at the Ice Queen's
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  grave. He seemed happy enough with the
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  compromise. Throughout the afternoon, I
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  followed the construction of a highway across the empty land.
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  The heavy equipment had all moved elsewhere and left behind
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  a finished Rd. bed without pavement on top.
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  The hard packed dirt was still a good surface to ride on, but
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  occasionally they're 8 foot tall.
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  Piles of gravel poured across the road to prevent people from
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  driving on the unfinished surface.
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  Whenever these piles forced me off, I simply pulled back onto
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  the road that was there before. The coming highway will be quite
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  the upgrade as the original Rd. was nothing more than a single
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  set of tire ruts. I watched storms building in the
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  afternoon, then burst of rain began to fall around me.
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  Hoping to find shelter, I pulled into a road workers encampment
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  of three canvas shelters with a small garden in front.
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  A tall Asian man walked out of the middle tent to greet me.
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  I pointed to the dark clouds and he immediately invited me
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  inside. I entered the home of five
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  Chinese laborers resting on their day off the whole width of
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  the room. Most of the depth was filled by
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  sleeping platform of their narrow bed frames lined up next
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  to each other without any gaps. They didn't use mattresses, only
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  a few layers of blanket to reply wood.
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  The floor was dirt and littered with cigarette butts.
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  When I walked in they were all lounging and looking bored, but
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  brightened up to have a guest. They're all about my age or a
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  little younger, and each of them came from a different place in
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  China. For six months a year they lived
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  at the work site operating the heavy equipment six days per
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  week. They said the road they are
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  building is a 10 year project that they are four years into.
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  The mother of one of the men also lived there.
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  She stayed in the next tent over with the kitchen and did all the
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  cooking while I was there. She served us a large boiled
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  fish. The wide eyes stared
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  disapprovingly as we pulled meat from the bones.
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  The rain came and went and the guys took me into the
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  surrounding pasture to look for mushrooms sprouting from the wet
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  earth. I paused in the field to take in
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  the moment. Mushroom hunting in Mongolia
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  with Chinese construction workers.
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  How wonderful. I was invited to stay for the
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  night. Dinner is going to be the dozen
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  mushrooms we found along with greens from the little garden.
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  They even offered me a spot on the sleeping platform.
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  I thank them but declined. They're already sharing the
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  space that that's little more than their shoulder width for
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  sleeping. I wanted to sleep out in the
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  open. And besides, the rain had
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  cleared, leaving a perfect evening for a bike ride.
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  I pedaled a couple more hours before setting up camp behind a
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  small rise that hides me from the road.
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  I cooked a pot of rice and sat on the ground to admire the
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  view. Pale sun bleached grass
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  stretched out in front of me for many miles.
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  Rolling mountains filled the far off horizon.
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  Countless nuances with blue filled in the sky and splashes
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  of rainbow shone with the light of the setting sun.
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  Rising miles above the whole magnificent scene were massive
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  white plumes of clouds shooting upward as if they were pillars
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  holding up the heavens. I watched as the colors of the
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  sunset slowly climb those Gray and white canvases, followed by
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  the shadow of the earth and the darkness of the night.