RUST magazine: Rust#15

opened to a riverbank and there I faced the back of a Kamaz
6WD truck with its tail lift lowered in wait. There was a man
leaning against the Kamaz, arms folded, a burly moustache,
and an emotionless stare from a weathered face. This was
the look of a man who had leaned against that truck all afternoon
and evening, who gazed over at these so-called ‘world
explorers’ and muttered in Yakut something that neither we
nor our Russian friends could understand but easily imagine.
Translation probably, “Okay you big tough bike riders, let me
carry you across this river so your feet don’t get wet.” This
was Sanych our support truck driver (a local from Tomtor) and
here also were Kot and Max snoozing on the other bank.
After trucking the bikes and ourselves across the swollen
river there were man hugs for our comrades and a quick
crosscheck before having to mount-up and ride further to our
camp. At about 11pm we met the rest of the team, Kot and
Max’s friends. There was fellow rider Viktor plus Oleg, Ivan,
Igor and helpers from Yakutsk, who would drive in their
GAZ-66 4WD vans affectionately called Buhanka (after a
square loaf of bread). Around the campfire with our first real
food for the day and a beer and vodka as rehydration, the talk
was about getting to know each other, the ride here and what
was to come. We thought better than to share our excursion
to Kadykchan just yet. It had been a very big day and as some
of you will have guessed it was still broad daylight (this being
latitude 63) and we needed some rest. As I crawled into my
tent, Oleg handed me a pistol and said, “If a bear comes
shoot in the air and he will go.” He tried hard to keep a
straight face, and as I rolled over to sleep the big grin on my
face told me I liked these guys already!