It’s the things that you don’t think about when you sign up, the things that no-one talks about, the things that fall into insignificance in grand scheme of things. But it’s these things that dictate how you spend the majority of your time on the road… and it’s a LONG time on the road.
Have you ever spent five weeks in a car, straight, all day and most nights? The actual reality of what you’re getting yourself into doesn’t quite hit you until you’re in it. The feeling of sitting on your arse for upwards of 12 hours a day, with no opportunity to exercise. There’s no time for going for a run. There’s barely any time to stretch your legs before your back in the car ready to curl up to sleep in the drivers seat. You’re eating your second Twix bar and you’ve reached the bottom of the Pringles packet because that’s all you’ve had time to eat, and that’s all that was available at the service station.
The Rally is full of contrasts, pulling you in one direction and pushing you in another. It’s that feeling of being so hot that you want to tear off all your clothes while the seat below you becomes a wet cesspool of sweat. And it’s the feeling of being so being cold that you wake in the morning utterly exhausted from spending the entire night shivering in an involuntary bodily survival instinct.
It’s the feeling of seeing nothing, for days on end. And then seeing everything at once: snowcapped mountains, running rivers, eagles soaring high in the sky, horses galloping the plains while the sun sets in the distance.
It’s the feeling of being so completely and utterly covered in filth; covered in grime, sweat, dust and grease for 5 days straight. Then it’s the ecstatic feeling of washing that grime off your body and watching it swirl in a black spiral down the white shower tiles.
It’s that feeling of being so completely and utterly exhausted that your trying everything to stay awake: loud music, fresh air, Red Bull, talking about the same boring topic for an hour to try and keep your car buddies awake with you while your eyes slowly close on the roads ahead. And it’s that feeling of sleeping anywhere at any time. Upright, lying down, dirt road, tarmac, morning or night.
It’s that feeling of staring blissfully into the distance as you clock up the kilometres on beautifully paved roads, and then it’s that exhausting feeling of staring intently for hours on end at the 20m of road ahead of you, watching for pot-holes… or ‘road-canyons’ as I like to call them.
It’s about driving for days alone, barely seeing another person let alone another Rallier. Then it’s that feeling of seeing a shitty car in the distance, and the green Mongol Rally stickers come into focus and you know they’ll be happy to share a beer or ten.
It’s about meeting people who were moments ago complete strangers from every single walk of life, and now they’re family… sharing what you’re sharing, and working together as one giant team to help us achieve our ultimate goal.
It’s about waking up with a horrendous hangover, and thinking that you’ll never drink again… and then it’s that feeling of that second beer (not the first one, the first one is always hard) and you know you’re in for another awesome night.
It’s about those moments where your car is broken and there’s a myriad of reasons why, and it’s about the teams working together to come up with a myriad of quick-fixes involving not much more than duct tape, ratchet straps and a Leatherman.
It’s about hating the European motorways because they’re too boring, and then it’s that joyous feeling of seeing tarmac for the first time in four days.
It’s about the sights you see along the way, but it’s more about the memories you create with the people you saw them with.
Some people finished the Rally long ago, and others are still making their way to the Finish Line. Either way, for me, this Rally was the perfect end to one of the biggest adventures in my life. To quit my job in my mid-20s, killing any form of career path I had, spending every single cent I had, and going travelling… it was a terrifying decision. And that’s coming from someone who travels on a regular basis. But it was honestly the best thing I’ve ever done.
My advice to anyone is the same position? Well strangely, I’ll use a saying I said on the Rally a lot… almost always to take the piss… Don’t let fear hold you back.
And my advice to any future Ralliers? Take the Iran route… Fuck Ishmael.
Here’s a few final stats for the score card to round out Don’t Be Russian Us’ participation in The Mongol Rally 2015…
MONGOL RALLY STATISTICS
Kilometres covered – 15,218km
Litres of fuel consumed – 1,150L
Money spent on fuel (approximately) – AU$1,350.00
Countries crossed – 15
Borders crossed – 16
Police pullovers – 16
Hours spent at border crossings – 42 (not including ferry)
Hitch hikers – 13
(Sam, Jack, Russ, French Couple, Kazakhstan lady with baby, Dan, Alex, Chris, Adam, Petrol Station worker, Kazakhstan couch surfer guy)
Tyres blown – 3
Bumpers lost – 1
Sand boggings – 8 (in one day)
Highest altitude – 8500ft somewhere in Mongolia
Lowest altitude – -30ft in Baku
24 Hour driving stints – 6
Fastest speed – 140kmph
Pot noodles consumed – 30
Underwear lost from roof while ‘drying’ – 3 and 1 bra
Times Jack felt ‘rapey’ – at least 12
Red Bull consumed – 102
Keys lost on Day 1 – 1
Keys found on Last Day – 1
Things requiring repairing or replacing:
- Broken fuel tank
- Fuel pump
- Fuel filter
- Spark plugs
- Short circuit headlights (resulting in a lightswitch under the bonnet)
- Gasket on fuel pump
- New headlight bulbs
- Broken sway bar
- Broken window wheel roller
- and one awesomely modified vegetable-crate wooden roof rack bolted to the roof.
allama withabackpack 