Lake Baikal

-the largest freshwater lake in the world Aug 11-13

Ah so nice to relax for a full day and two nights at a lakeside campground in Baikal. We stopped at a supermarket in Irkusk before driving the winding mountain roads along the lakeshore, so we were able to have a big meat feast over the campfire thanks to Chris’ expert grill skills.

Our first act upon arrival was to get the bus stuck on the gravel beach. Saving us were an outstanding group of Italians driving big custom Iveco 4x4s who were delighted to help their countrymen Stefano and Pietro, while showing off their one of their amazing vehicles. It took mere minutes to snatch all 16,000 lbs or so of the bus out at the end of the tow strap we were glad we’d packed.

It was clear that they and our own Italians were both delighted to get a chance to become acquainted, and I think Stefano was especially thrilled to finally get some Italian cooking after living with us savages for so long. The cheery Italian ladies were clearly very happy to share their gourmet skills with the boys.

Of course we all had to go swimming, with the exception of Pietro, who could not be coaxed into the admittedly very cold water. Sarita and I did some clothes washing in the lake as well. It is such clear, pure water, but takes your breath away when you first go under.

Sarita brought out the much lauded inflatable banana for us to try out at the lake, to great effect. Nearly everyone had a run with it, and a few of us managed to ride it, showing our adolescent natures.

A walk down the beach in search of rumored cold beer down at the next village was another reminder that Americans are not expected as tourists in this part of the world. We came across a Cuban guy channeling Che Guevara, complete with beret and Russian speaking old men friends. But his vehicle was a state-of-the-art GMC truck with a custom Hummer camper outfit on it. Not the Guevara ascetic lifestyle to go with the look. I showed him a picture of our bus and said we came from the USA. He offered a rather sardonic “Go America!” and fist pump to me, to which I replied “Nice truck!”

Although the location of the campground was ideal, the “facilities” offered for our 50 rubles each included two outhouses that rated closer to 14 on our 10 scale. Yikes!

The cornhole game got hauled out for the first time, and we had a few good games, but the Russian kids next to us had an even better time with it ran we did. I’d bought a frisbee back in Irkusk and the boys got a little exercise chasing it around.

We stayed two nights to get rested up for the long couple of days ahead to make it to UB for the finish line party on the 16th. At least 600kms to the border, traveling on gravel and potholes.

The lake itself is immense, as expected, and edged in mountains and the trans-Siberian railroad, so trains pass by constantly, both day and night. Local Russian families congregate at these small campgrounds, with the kids climbing aboard air mattresses to paddle up and down the rocky shore. As I said to Caroline, I don’t think they know it is cold! From early morning to late afternoon, the lake had plenty of swimmers, and our fellow campers were friendly and curious folks. Most were more relaxed than the people we met in towns because they were on their holiday time.