Jeff at the start of his Frozen Ride expedition across Lake Khõvsgõl (Image: NC)
I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation for all this, but at the moment I can’t think of what it is. At least I can explain the glitter tights. I wore them to a fancy dress party (long story), and when I mentioned the trip to a friend, he said he always wore tights to keep warm on business trips to the North Pole. Now that he’s in the SAS, feel free to question his masculinity. See you at A&E. By the way, tights don’t have to be sparkly. They are the only ones in Tesco that are as big as me.
On the plane from Moscow to Ulaanbaatar, Pitt the burly kiwi sits next to me on his way to the Mongolian 100 Rat Race, where contestants walk, run, skate or bike on Lake Khövsgöl.
“Aha, the same lake we rode to Enfield. See you there,” I said when the pilot announced in Mongolian that we were descending to Ulaanbaatar.
It sounds like Klingon, I think when I met François from Vintage Rides, the French company that organized this aptly named Frozen Ride.
Sadly, I didn’t find my bag, it was going to spend a whole week at the Moscow airport. You know, this bag has all my cold weather gear and sleeping bags for all four seasons.
Thankfully, cyclist camaraderie is just that, with other riders coming up with an open helmet, spare warmth and inner gloves, a furry vest and balaclava.
We climbed into a minibus and spent 14 harrowing hours on the potholed road to Morong, through a desolate, rolling landscape.
By the time we finally got there late that night, I was stupid enough that I hadn’t slept for 32 hours.
Jeff prepares his sidecar trip (Image: NC)
The next morning we were introduced to the bikes and had an easy 60 miles on the way to the lakeside chalet, where the mechanic installed the studded tires, and then we went to the annual three-day Khövsgöl snow festival .
Hundreds of locals eat barbecues, admire ice sculptures, slide down ice slides, skate back and forth, ride horse-drawn sleighs across the ice, or practice right-hand-drive Japanese-imported Toyota Priuss, the obvious preferred mode of transportation for Mongolians who graduate from horses.
The lakeside fishing fleet of rusted trawlers froze in the winter nearby and I wondered where the fish were. Presumably they all went on vacation to the Mediterranean and sent back postcards that said, come down, the water is lovely. Back at the ranch, Amara, the woman of the family, cooked a chewy lamb and rice meal and drank beer and vodka, while her husband wandered aimlessly, smiling at everyone.
Note that women have ruled here ever since Genghis Khan was disappointed with his useless son, instead handing over most of his empire to his daughter.
We slept on the floor around the stove. Once the wolf was howling outside, the local dog responded with a piercing bark, hiding safely behind the walled wall.
Cyclist rides icy trawler (Image: NC)
A hearty breakfast of bread, jam, and instant coffee lifted my spirits, and we biked to the ice, which was awesome.
The bike overtook the sidecar when accelerating and vice versa when braking, and it wasn’t long before we were all laughing while doing electric scooters and donuts.
Looking down through the ice is magical; the water below is a deep blue, interwoven with delicate white cobwebs, like the traces of steam in the melee of the Battle of Britain frozen in time.
The island we planned to spend the night on was inaccessible, and the ice around it was churning like a stormy sea, so we retreated to a camp for workers in a lakeside yurt usually used by gold and copper mining companies during the summer, with a bar, restaurant and spa Center, although they are closed in winter.
Dinner was a chewy mutton bouillon soup followed by a chewy beef with potatoes and carrots. I’m starting to worry that Mongolia’s chances of winning a Michelin star are about the same as finding Elvis on the moon.
Jeff likes a cool beer (Image: NC)
We lit the stove and went to bed. It was so cold in the morning that we had to use a blowtorch on the Enfield crankcases to thaw the oil just enough to start them.
We cycled north to a former Soviet holiday camp in Hanh, just 12 miles from the Siberian border. A faded red CCCP sign still stands beside the gate, and an old UAZ minibus is parked inside, its bug-eye headlights making it look like the love child of Thomas the Tank Engine and Herbie the Beetle.
Surprisingly, dinner was trout and chips. All over Mongolia, the sheep were relieved and prayed to go to bed.
Early the next morning, I heard that three cars in the west of the lake fell into the ice, and the people in the cars drowned, so we insisted on heading east to meet the drivers of the Mongolia 100 race one by one.
Jeff Celebrates Completing the Ice Lake Tour (Image: NC)
As we chatted with their support staff, I suddenly heard a shout: “Jeff!” It was New Zealander Pete, striding across the ice in jeans and brogues. His luggage was also lost at the Moscow airport.
Back at the miners’ holiday camp, we cycled through the woods and met a family of seven living in a yurt who moved 500 cows from ranch to ranch multiple times a year. Inside, saddles, tools, hunting gear and wolf skins hang on the male side on the left, and cooking utensils, children’s toys and clothes on the female side on the right.
A traditional Mongolian HDTV hangs on the wall, powered by solar panels outside and a window to the world, allowing families to ask key questions of the day, such as what will happen after Brexit and how we see Europe versus Russia relationship development and the price of a liter of milk. My lost bag was waiting for me in my hotel in Ulaanbaatar. “It’s almost time. Did you have a good time in Moscow?” I said to it sternly.
“Great, thanks. Playing with a nice Louis Vuitton handbag, although I suspect she’s fake.” “Hopefully not. If you two have lots of cute little bags, I can sell them on eBay, Get rich, learn Klingon, open a decent restaurant here.”
Jeff meets Kiwi Pete (Image: NC)
Knowledge
The 10-day Frozen Ride Tour runs twice a year, with 6-day rides covering 360 miles of snow and ice. If you just want to enjoy the view from the sidecar, you don’t need a bike license. Prices start from €4,850 (£4,093) excluding flights. At the end of the tour you’ll need around €60 (£50) for drinks and a €50 (£42) crew bonus. Look: vintagerides.travel/motorcycle-tour/mongolia/frozen-ride.
what to wear
Glitter tights, obviously. Then everything you have and a really good sleeping bag.
