Drive shafted !
As of 20th August:
Before leaving the mighty Astana we headed back to TGI Fridays for an american style breakfast. Following George's mongol rally mantra that 'every meal could be our last meal so eat as much as possible' we each had 2 breakfasts which left us in an uncomfortably full state (So much for losing any weight on the rally!?)
We tried our luck at another mechanics as we headed out of the city. It turned out were able to reinforce the bendy bodged leaf spring to the extent that we then became lopsided in the other direction. We did however find that now we were able to float over the potholes like a 4 tonne butterfly, where previously we'd been more of a beached whale at the mercy of the road..
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The guys from Chapeau Noveau (who we hadn't seen since our night out a couple of days back) waited for us on the outskirts so that we could continue our convoy. We were almost with them when another calamity struck! As we were driving along at a steady 100 km/h our back left wheel simpy came off and if we'd seen it in time we'd have seen it overtake us on the other side of the road as our wheel bearing and brake drum smashed down against the tarmac. Rick heroically kept us on the road and the exposed brake drum did its job in a rather unusual way and stopped us even quicker than usual as it grinded against the road! Luckily the wheel did not hit any other cars and we found it about 250m down the road with the help of someone who'd seen it hurtle past them. With a little help from the Chaps and another team they had picked up, the wheel was reattached and we were back on the road, minus a few wheel nuts and in a paranoid state about further wheel flying off at any given moment. We think that although they didnt take the wheel off at the mechanics they must have loosened the nuts and fogotten to do them back up. Luckily nobody was hurt so we didnt hold a grudge.
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Our new three car convoy didn't last for long and the new guys, clearly frustated with our slow pace and regular wee stops, overtook and didnt look back. That night we found a beautiful camp site at the shore of a lake and went to bed without dinner (still full of TGI fridays!). Our camping spot didn't look quite as nice in the morning with a toilet (AKA a poo-hole shed) just up the hill and a lake that smelled even worse... The next town was Pavolodar where we found a irresistible restaurant called 'The English Gentleman' which offered us a Business Buffet - not sure how we fitted the criteria, especially Tom (AKA Ray Beers from Chapeau Nouveau) having spent the last few days in his natural environment - under a car bonnet, and having failed to wash.
In one of the early blogs John had done some research and unearthed a fact about a certain 'Semiplatansk' region in Kazakhstan where 500 nuclear bombs were detonated during the 1970s/80s by the Soviets. We were blissfully unaware that this was exactly the same region where we'd arranged to cross the border on our VISAs ('Semey' in English)... Uh Oh.
We immediately bought some foil so that the key body parts could be protected from left over radiation whilst driving through the region (basically we made some tin foil pants to sport whenever we had to get out of the ambulance). Instead of rushing through the town of Semey we managed to get completely lost and directions from the locals sent us back towards Pavolodar. Eventually we summoned up the courage to ask in a police station, who for a small cigarette based donation, drew us a little map which got us on the road to the border. By this point we were so starved that we decided to take the radiation risk and stop for eats at a local cafe. Our request of 9 'meat dishes' and 1 vegetarian dish yielded a good meal for all except Neil the vegetarian who received a plate of sliced cucumbers and half a tomato covered in mayonaise.. Vegetarianism hasnt really taken off in Russia yet. After some serious discussions about bears and the possibility of seeing some (and then having to fight them off) we got back on the road and headed to the border. A hundred miles or so from the border we decided to camp in a truck stop which upon closer inspection turned out to be a bit of a dive.. We removed a needle from the ground under our tents and pitched them. We all must have been tired becuase despite worrys about Hepititus B and Bears everyone got a good nights sleep.Â
The next morning Tom had a look under our ambulance to figure out why it was making some rather perculiar clunking noises and veering to the right under acceleration. He returned with some dire news.. At first he thought our drive shaft had snapped but we then resolved that it was just badly worn because the coupling housing had split and the grease come out. Not good news either way. We hit the road again and attempted to drive without accelerating too much or turning the steering wheel too much. Not as hard as it sounds on the straight kazkah roads, especially since the worst potholes were behind us it seemed.
AS we headed for the border in convoy we were caught by a sneekily hidden police officer and his hand held camera doing 77 km/h. Our speedo definately said we were doing 0 km/h but we weren't going to argue. We weren't actually sure what the speed limit was meant to be either but after talking to the guy the subject sooned changed to what we were up to and then to jokes about Toms beard and the football he could see in the back of the ambulance. Whether he was just a nice guy and let us off or we were under the speed limit, we got away without trouble.. Still haven't had to use a single bribe !
We reached the Kazakh border at about midday and it turned out to be the best border crossing yet! The guards seemed to be enjoying themselves, probably due to the presence of a fullsize ping pong table in the border station.. We parked the ambulance outside and before we'd even got to the passport desk Rick and George had been extradited into the ping pong room to play the best of the guards in an East vs West ping pong showdown. Unfortunately for us, even Rick's mantle of Junior County Table Tennis champion wasnt good enough and they lost. Probably a good thing though as immediately after that we then had to get our passports stamped, which only took two seconds now that the guards had their victory in hand. The guards even escorted Rick to the front of the queue! (He must have heard about Rick being an ex-champion). The entry back into Russia took a tad longer but again we had no real trouble and after filling in a few forms had made it back into the Soviet motherland.
Whilst playing american football in the parking lot outside the border cafe Josh through a long play and rick missed it resulting in the ball glancing off an angry russian mans car which then caused a certain amount of shouting and tension but thankfully it didnt escalate - probably due to the Super Mongol Wonder Squad's collective testosterone count. The angry russian man was the first to fulfill the silly preconception I had of all Russians. None before or since have joined him.
We waited while the Chap Nov boys inspirationally bodged their exhaust system with a sweetcorn can and a jubilee clamp as it had actually come completely off at the engine and was making a ridiculously loud noiseand back firing at random.We met and swapped stories with another convoy of teams (about 5 cars altogether!) before heading off towards Barnaul. We stopped in a supermarket to pick up some dinner and got some photos taken with impressed locals whilst still holding our shopping then drove on looking for a suitable camp site. We drove down a dirt track off the main road before deciding it wasn't any good. Whilst Rick executed a textbook three point turn we heard and ominous noise and then lost all drive to the wheels.. The worst had happened. We had failed in nursing our drive shaft back to health with some careful driving and it the coupling had completely come apart and was slightly mashed up. The chaps from Chaps helped us push the ambulance back to the road and into a nearby layby. Our morale was as low as it had been all trip. We were all trying to be optimistic but hope of ever getting back on the road let alone to the finish line was beginning to fade.. Tom had another look under the carriage and broke the news to us that our mongol rally was most likely over...
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There was nothing else to do but set up camp next to the layby. So thats exactly what we did. We cooked up a storm and the few beers we'd bought previously at the supermarket helped to ease the pain of losing our drive shaft a little but we were still all a bit shell shocked by the recent events. At least the 'Last Supper' was a success.. Sausage surprise and pasta. Hmm.
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The next morning we awoke with a feeling of dread still hanging over us and tried to boost morale with an inpromptu pineapple chunk spear fishing game. We asked the bloke in a nearby petrol station the best way to get back into town and he suggested just getting a tow from a passing lorry. As we packed up camp he came over and decided to have a stab at fixing our drive shaft. He rolled up his sleeves and got under the van. His plan to lock the broken drive shaft in place and transfer power to the remaining one through the differential by jamming any old metal bar into the coupling failed miserably. 1 completely bent socket wrench and 1 snapped wheel wrench later we gave up on that plan and resigned to the fact that we'd have to get towed back to the nearest town 40km back the way we'd come.. We had an emotional goodbye with the Chapaue Nouveau boys and waved them off. They'd been good to us but had a rally to attend to...
We managed to flag down a passing lorry (a huge double carriage one) who was up for towing us back to civilisation where we could form a contingancy plan. Whilst being towed the drive shaft coupling started making a truly aweful racket and then suddenly became jammed. The ambulance started to swerve in one direction dangerously as the steering was compromised.. We desperately tried to notify the drivers of the russian lorry that was towing us but to no avail, they were too far ahead of us and in a cab no doubt as loud as our own. Josh and George had to battle with the steering wheel to keep us in a stright line while we beeped our way down the road, with Rick waving violently out of the windowto try to get their attention. Luckily for us we passed a police checkpoint and although the poilce did absolutely nothing the lorry slowed down sufficiently enough to hear or see us panicking and pulled us both over into the hard shoulder.Â
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We had a look at the drive coupling that was slowly shattering our mongol rally hopes.. it was completely mashed. The socket was so bad that a section had completely sheared off (were talking some solid steel here..). It looked mangled! The russian lorry drivers helped us to remove the drive shaft completely and handed it to us. One last trophy to remind us of what could have been..
So it was here we found ourselves.. On the side of a dusty Russian road. Roped to the back of a big Russian Lorry. Mangled drive shaft in hand. Team morale equally shredded..
TO BE CONTINUED...