All Pumped Up

Okay, so we got out of the bog in the sand.

Last entry I told how I drained air out of the tyres to do so. The next morning I used Barry’s 12v pump to replace the air, but got to half way through the cars, when the pump died. It had been making funny noises for a while and we took no notice because at that time, we didn’t need to take notice. But, now we do. 50km as the crow flies from the next town, gers about, but what chance of a pump? Bloody hell.

Anyway, I spent 90 minutes dismantling and repairing Barry’s pump. The problem was that the cylinder heads had got loose, so on the pump down stroke, it worked okay, (sucked the heads tight) but on the pump up stroke, the heads lifted and all the air was expelled into the atmosphere instead of the line. So the pump couldn’t work.

I cleaned it, retightened the heads, and bingo, it worked better than new. Trouble was when the ubiquitous nomad, his daughter and brother came over for a yarn, photos, ride his motorbike around and give us some cow’s milk that morning – all this taking nearly two hours, with gift exchanges etc – the pump wasn’t put away. I LEFT IT BEHIND! (I didn’t realise for a couple of hundred km, when Barry’s Ranger had its next flat tyre…

We plugged on to Ulaam Gom and stayed there overnight in a hotel. A great decision as it gave a bit of time to clean up, replenish the water and have someone else cook for us – out of the weather!

There was a certain, special, social aspect of it as well.

Ulaam Gom is a town located in a remote area, so any travellers stop here for a break. We met three Swedish cyclists, a lone French cyclist, two Spanish travellers and a Japanese delegation.

Ulaam Gom turned out a treat. We had a night out with a girl psychologist who is with a Japanese delegation running workshops through the country training mediators. It turns out we may be able to help the Japanese, so I’ve put it to the Feds in Oz.