It’s been quite some time now since I managed to get a few thoughts down on paper (or into the computer). Time has been short, the roads got more challenging, and writing in the van while driving is no longer an option. Last time we were just getting ready to leave Omsk where we had an interesting night out. It was actually the first time since we left that we were able to get out into town for the evening. We had just made it to a day off – and got to spent it in a bigger town. Several of us left the hotel by 10:30 pm for a local club, and Julia, one of our guides managed to get us past the long line of people waiting at the entrance. Happy to be inside, a manager pointed at our feet, everyone was wearing sandals (except Paul…) and it took several more minutes of intense negotiation (and one of my BPR business cards) to persuade him to make an exception. The three-story club was surprisingly nice, one you probably could find anywhere else in a big western city, and so was the clientele: With the average age between 15 and 20, we were standing out like sore thumbs. That of course is no real obstacle for some fun, and after a few rounds at the bar we were ready to blend in with the locals. The next few hours actually passed rather quickly and, although we eventually all got separated, even the last strangler made it back to the hotel in time for breakfast.

The next eight days we spent running east on road M-53, another one of the long eight day stretches until the next day off. As now for some time, not too much exciting can be reported on the running within the Yellow Team. Everyone is doing fine, none of us had jet to miss a day, and the time passes with managing minor incidents like the removal (and proper documentation) of one of Laurel’s black toe nails, the care of sore hamstrings or Achilles’ tendons, or of blisters, that seem so come up once in a while without any clear reason. After our last competition on who’s shirt would look “more used” after a four day shift, we (Paul and me) are now engaged in a re-match going over the whole eight-day shift. Even though I came in close second the last time, I am determined to win this time around. Three days into our shift I got to run through the remnants of an early morning thunderstorm on a muddy country road and that clearly put me ahead for the time being.

The time spent in the bigger Siberian cities, like Novosibirsk, Kemerovo, Krasnoyarsk passed pretty uneventful, I personally liked the city of Krasnoyarsk with its green hills and beautiful surroundings. Time spent in some of the smaller ones (like Marlinsk) was a bit more challenging with some lack of rest due to hot and mosquito-invested rooms, cold water etc., not worth spending too much time dwelling over it. The further we traveled to the east the more interesting the surroundings became – at least for me personally. The Siberian countryside is very beautiful this time of the year. There are less and less bigger cities, but many small villages spread out over the vast open space of eastern Siberia, and stopping at some of the many road side cafes is a great opportunity to get a glimpse of the live in this part of the world. A short comment on food. Although some people with more challenging requirements for their daily nutrition may disagree with me – I do like the Siberian kitchen a lot. It is all hardy, home-cooked food, and well spiced. Of course, I am not much into lettuce anyway – so a sturdy solianka, borsch, or potato meal with beef or pork goulash works just great for me. As a matter of fact, I think the food served in these local places is much better that that in some of the expensive hotel restaurants.

As mentioned earlier, the daily running routines (at least the ones in our team…) pass without much to talk about, so there is a bit more time to give you some of my personal road side observations. Life in a Siberian village certainly appears simple and harsh at times, with the focus on the daily needs, and little room for the western luxury we are accustomed to. Nevertheless there are some rather funny episodes. A few days ago we crossed one of the small villages with an exchange point on the outskirts. I ran through the town on a dirt road over a steep hill leading into the village. At the finish, a regular bus stop shelter had been “re-functionalized” as a shelter for cows. When Paul and me started taking pictures, two local woman (with probably not more than four teeth between the two of them) eagerly demanded to be in the pictures, causing Paul some bruises, and me serious elbow work to keep them at distance. Nevertheless, one of them ended hanging on my right shoulder like a sack of potatoes... We handed over some BPR stickers, some of them finally ended up on the cows and we barely were able to escape the friendly invitation for tea we were “threatened” with.

On occasion, life in these small villages is interesting to watch. Several times I noticed people with large aluminum “milk” can on wheels heading to small covered wells and filling them up with water. People spending time working on their homes, often large piles of birch wood lay at their front yards, ready to be split and put away as fire wood. Most homes in the small country villages are wooded ones. The wood is mostly bare, but doors and windows are framed at times with beautiful woodwork painted in light blue and white. Blue and white are the traditional Russian colors symbolizing hope and purity. In another place, a small dirt road was leading down to a stream, and people had their cars lined up, patiently waiting for their turn to wash their cars with plastic buckets right at the local river. Most of the villages are miles apart, but often I noticed people working in the endless fields outside of the towns. One day, while running I passed a bus stop on an intersection with a dirt road and a road sigh showing the next village six kilometers down the road. As I passed, people got of the bus and started walking down the road carrying their shopping bags. Quite a few people try to catch a ride or try to hitch hike between the villages. Often people are sitting at the road sides selling wild berries, potatoes and mushrooms. Good places to meet the local people are the road side cafes. Just yesterday we met a family from Krasnoyarsk that had just traveled to Vladivostok in the far east of Russia to pick up a car. For us, his would be the equivalent of traveling a good 4,000 km (2,500 mi) to by an average car and then driving it back home.

Yesterday we finished the last run of our eight day shift – and today on our day off we finally arrived in Irkutsk, the last big city in Russia, and the half-way point of our journey around the globe. For me personally, Siberia so far has been a great experience, a place of great space and natural beauty, but also a stark reminder on the many things that we take for granted, but not come easy to so many others. Describing the actual Siberian running experience is a bit more difficult. Next time I will give you a few suggestions on how you may be able to “simulate” our days on the road at home so you can reach your own conclusions.