Eastern Frontiers: Arctic Russia - Caucasus - Kazakhstan

[AlpineGuerrilla]

Hello!

I haven't been active on here yet, though I've gazed at a lot of nice Ride Tales and could use plenty of information that is on site. So I thought I could start becoming active and write about a trip around Eastern Europe last year.

So, together with my good friend Andi, I headed on a 3-months trip last summer. The places we wanted to see and explore were Northern Russia, the Caucasus countries of Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan and a small part of Western Kazakhstan.

That was roughly the plan:



Here are a few pictures of what’s to come:

[AlpineGuerrilla]

Prior to this trip, we didn't really have proper bikes for a trip like this (we are not rtwdougs). So we needed to evaluate which bike covered our needs.

So far I’ve had a Suzuki SV 650S, a street bike with sporty aspirations that kept up well. I did a few trips with it, bigger ones including a ride to the Nordkapp and to Istanbul. Also, both Andi and I have been enjoying riding offroad and dual-sport bikes. Now we finally wanted to combine travel and offroad-riding.

After a lengthy evaluation we decided to go for Honda Transalps, namely the 600cc editions, 1996 or older. Though the Transalps were far from being desirable bikes the way they originally are.

While there are obviously better bikes for offroad riding, those were the biggest bikes we were comfortable with riding offroad. We didn’t want to get too light and offroad-oriented bikes, since motorcycle travel always includes a lot of asphalt and sometimes highway riding. At least that is the case for us. Also, the Transalps are kings of toughness, durability and can be repaired almost everywhere.

Left: My 1996 Transalp, about 28’000km or 17’000miles on the clock
Right: Andis 1994 Transalp, about 45’000km or 28’000miles on the clock



We both picked them up in autumn/winter of 2012 and started rebuilding them soon after.

The planned upgrades included:
• Hyperpro Suspension
• Rally-style fairing
• Tough and high handlebar
• Tough offroad foot pegs
• Diet
• New paint job

Stripping the bikes for the new fairing







The fairing and light from AfricanQueens needed a special mount for the light and speedo.





Installing the new Hyperpro Suspension – this was by far the most important step. The difference to the old suspension is like heaven and hell.



Without the help of Mark, our good mechanic friend, we would have never been able to do all the changes. Stripping down the bikes and improving them almost from scratch was an important step towards knowing the bike and its faults. Thanks to him we felt quite comfortable riding the bikes on this extended trip.





Time for a test ride in the local gravel pit. Andi, as an experienced dirt rider, felt comfortable immediately and rode it almost like his 2-stroke KTM.





After some more work and repainting, this is how our bikes looked. We were quite proud of the outcome and the bikes felt great riding on and offroad.

[AlpineGuerrilla]

For the first leg of the trip we took the easy way and boarded the car train by the Deutsche Bahn, shedding off a few hundred kilometers of distance over night from our home town of Basel to the Estonian-Russian border near St. Petersburg.

I still had to work on the day we departed, and, like always, it took longer to finish everything up. I finished work at 4PM in Zurich and still had 1.5 hours commute back home. Even though I prepared everything a few days earlier it was pretty stressful. Our passports with all the visa just arrived a day earlier, I still needed to retrieve the green insurance card and I wanted to cross-check my pack-list. In the end we arrived about 10 minutes before the closed the gates and we were the last to board.

For the next bigger trip I will definitely have 1 full day between the end of work and departure. At least if the departure is a fixed time and date like it’s the case with the car train.



It’s funny how after we boarded and tied down the bikes, the train still stood at the same spot for half an hour. Then, when it departed, it just rode for 2 minutes onto a holding track where it waited for departure another two hours – all the while we could still see the platform where we boarded from.








We are both around 193-195cm (6 foot 4/5) and had a little trouble fitting into the bunk beds…



A day before we left, Andis Transalp started to develop a problem, sometimes killing the engine while riding or plainly not starting. Our first thought was the infamous CDI unit, although the common problem with the seat bending the connectors wasn’t an issue with our particular models.

Due to time constraints we decided to look into it in Hamburg. So the next morning, we started calling around to see if any close Honda dealer could help us or had a spare CDI unit around.

We ended up at a local dealer who could order Korean knock-offs for the next day, so we decided to explore the region and look for a good place to crash for the night.

There were some floodings in the area (2013 European floods), quite a few roads were closed due to it.





Eventually we decided to look for a nice spot in the woods and set up camp.



Due to the soft ground, Andi had to lean his bike against a tree – while my bike, with its big plate on the kickstand stood up on its own.





Sweet german sausages



When we picked up the CDI units and tried them out it didn’t seem to make a difference. We bought one anyway and decided to postpone troubleshooting so we could make gain some ground towards Poland.

[AlpineGuerrilla]

Shortly before we arrive at the polish border, I experience the first cultural shock. At a gas station, I ask the cashier if they have a toilet.

"Of course we do."

She goes on to serve the next customer and I stand there, baffled at what is happening. Defeated, I queue again, every brit would have been proud of me. This time I ask her where the toilet is and she gives me a 30 second answer of the where-abouts, leaving no doubt she thought I might be a bit slow in the head.

I'm almost glad to enter Poland now, so I can blame language differences when things become strange.


The border to Poland is like every EU-border: there's a sign stating you're in a new country. Done. Maybe sometimes the colour of the asphalt changes a tad bit and you see where each country stopped building the road on their side.

Since we want to arrive in Russia as soon as possible, we just push forward and make it about halfway into Poland between Germany and Lithuania before we take a side-road and start looking for a place to camp.





Oh boy, what a magnificent road!





This was one of the first bumpy offroad sections with full luggage - we learn that things have to be strapped down A LOT more than what we're used to from street riding.

For example, my spare tires slid over the license plate and the wheat was tough enough to loosen up the strap on my side bags.



Eventually, we settle at a nice spot at a pond.











The small pond also means there's lots and LOTS of mosquitoes. For months have I been jokingly teasing Andi about how bad the mosquitoes in the north are and how they bite through jeans and shirts. Thanks for being a good sport and letting me take a picture of your paranoia.



We pushed forwards and stopped at a few neat roadside eateries.



Of course we had to try the pierogi (some kind of dumplings), a national dish and very tasty.



Riding through eastern Germany, traffic has already gotten slowly more aggressive. Crossing into Poland, it’s even more so. Just stick to the right and check your six – then almost nothing can happen to you. Except for the few guys in oncoming traffic that will pass other cars even though you're coming their way on a bike. You're weaker and have to yield. The first two times I was quite startled when I suddenly have two flashing lights coming my way, but you get used to it.



Eventually, we got sick of the long and straight roads and changed the routing settings on the GPS from "Minimum Time" to "Minimum Distance". For a while we followed some neat little roads through the polish countryside.



Riding through these calm landscapes and little villages is very soothing. We already love Poland.





While Andis bike stutters here and there and kills the engine, mine is developing a habit of a loosening fuel screw (where I can switch to reserve) and it starts to leak slowly.

[AlpineGuerrilla]

When night fell, we rented a small apartment along the road for, I think, 20€ each with kitchen, living room, balcony, everything. This was our nice view of the sunset.



The next day, we had only a few miles of Poland left, the road growing smaller and smaller.





Kaunas, the second-largest city of Lithuania.





While we were filling up, this old tractor stopped at the next pump. During the 10 minute pit-stop the engine was roaring loud as ever. By the time we left, there was a small puddle of oil at the bottom… :confused1:



We haven’t seen any camp sites since we left Germany and decided to take the turn-off, when we saw the signpost. Campsites are always great for meeting people and maybe there is even some infrastructure.

We arrived at a farmhouse that had huge grassland for camping. There were no other guests, though the lady was very nice. I think she was pleased and amused to have us as guests and invited us for a coffee.



It even had a small pond for a short wake-up dip in the morning.



After a small meal of pasta and tomato sauce it was night-time.



While we were packing our stuff in the morning, the neighbors turned up and took us for a short ride. They were ethnic Russians living in Lithuania and had just finished building some huts to take guests and wanted to show us around.



Before we could enter the premises, they had to tether their huge and furious dog.



It took some persuasion for them to let us go. Even though the huts were nice we really had no intentions of staying.



Soon, we reached Latvia, another country we’d only see from the main roads, unfortunately.







Lesson learned: a white front is arduous to keep clean with all the freaking mosquitoes.



We stopped at a bus stop in a small town for dinner when it started to rain. After a while, we were surrounded by a few inquiring locals. One of the guys was intrigued when he learned that we were riding to Murmansk. He was stationed there some 30 years ago and suggested us to check out Severomorsk, just north of Murmansk.

Since Russia’s Northern Fleet is stationed there it’s a closed town, only open for locals living and working there. He was insistent that it’s possible to go there. It is not, though.

He was a little drunk and got all pushy. And how much does he know about the current status when he’s still calling everything the Soviet Union and referring to St. Petersburg as Leningrad?



When the sky cleared up, we packed up and left. Soon after, we found ourselves on a nice gravel highway. We opened up the throttle and sped over the nice and wide gravel road, sometimes reaching 120km/h (or 75mp/h). Closely followed by a local in his pickup truck, probably being limited by our slow riding.



We took another short side trip through the woods to have some fun.





When coming around a corner I saw Andi lifting his bike out of a ditch – as he said he changed into the wrong gear and missed the turn. :lol3



Estonia. Again, we didn’t really see a lot besides the main roads. Though what struck us was how different Estonia is from Lithuania and Latvia. While the latter seem very Eastern European, with bumpy roads, shabby cars and decaying buildings, Estonia was different. It felt more like Finland. Smooth roads, clean small towns and modern bars and restaurants along the road.



In the evening we reached Narva at the Estonian-Russian border and rented a small hut at a local campsite. The Russian border was to be crossed next day in the morning.

This is our route so far:



For the Estonian side, there is an online queuing in place, where you have to register in advance (or at the border waiting area) and pay a 1€ for processing it (credit cards only).

https://www.estonianborder.eu/

For all vehicles, there are queues in place, sometimes with waiting times of a couple of days if you didn't reserve in time. But since this is Eastern Europe, motorcycles as always get preferential treatment. That means you can take any spot you like – no queue. You just pick a time and show up at the border waiting area. NOT the border, as we did!

You first have to show up at the border waiting area (left), where you will register and have to wait for your slot. On motorbikes it’s only a formality. We went there, got some stamps and then could ride to the border. We talked to some German guys in RVs, who told us they waited for over 16 hours now. They did only reserve a place in the queue once they arrived here.



Approaching the Russian border I felt the same tremble and butterflies in the stomach as I did two years earlier. But this time, not out of a little anxiety and fear of the unknown. This time, with some knowledge of the Russian language on board and the right bike to experience every road we wanted to, we were excited for what’s to come.

The last few days have only been about making distance, getting into travel mode. Now – it counts.

[danielsprague]

Great writing, great photos... looking forward to more!

I had to park my car in Narva for about two months Jan / Feb 2011 as I could not buy insurance to drive it in the EU again... when I got back it was just a pile of snow with headlights I had to buy a blowtorch to open the back!

Daniel

[NightAlp]

Hi AlpineGuerrillia,
nice travel reports since here, and nice bikes. I've got an '98 Alp and it goes well.
Last year I do a simillar trip Danmark, Norway(Cap North); Finnland, Sweden, Finnland(again), Estonia, Lithuania, Latvia, Poland and back to Germany.Yeah you are right the batic states are eurapean and strange too. I like to drive there. The people are so friendly and there is no problem if you don't speak there language.
I hope for mor nice stories and pictures.

Thx until now.
have a good ride NightAlp