Into Russia 05/09/2011
 
8/13  Well, it was finally our chance.  We had picked up the bikes the day before and everything was packed.  We had new tires, nobbies, sprockets, chains, brakes, and a good service to boot.   We were ready.   We headed out of town very slowly, as is the custom in Finland.   The speed limits are dreadfully slow, even on the freeway.  It’s excruciating.  

 

We stopped for some supplies and Joe broke his chatterbox clamp again.   As far as communication, the chatterbox radios worked great, except they are mounted onto the helmet with a plastic clamp that is designed to break for liability purposes.  Well, good job boys, they break very well and quite often.   Mine broke in London, and with a combination of super glue, Popsicle sticks, and Velcro, I managed to make it work.  Joe’s had also broken, the first time when I was carrying our helmets out of a hotel and bumped it on my leg, and the second time when he dropped his helmet at the auto parts store at the Finland-Russia border.   So, we reglued it right there in the parking lot.  Little did we know that the Gorilla glue we bought took 30 minutes to set.   So, we stopped for snacks and waited for it to dry. 

 

All packed up, we took off for the entry point.  There are two main ports from finland to Russia.   The southern one is where all the big trucks cross.  So, we decided to take the one to the north.   It was on a 2 lane road somewhat out in the country.  Surprisingly, the traffic was light and there was not much of a line as we arrived at the border inspection station.   We had to get off the bikes and go inside a small building.   They asked for our passports and then pointed us out of the door.  We hopped back on the bikes, thinking “that’s it?”.   So, we rode around the corner and there was another line, with military and police standing outside.  One policeman had a little baton in his hand and was using it to point to where he wanted you to park.   We parked and were directed to a window, where a gruff woman started talking to us in Russian.  It took a while but we finally figured out she wanted us to fill out this immigration form in duplicate.   I had trouble knowing exactly what to fill out and the woman had zero patience.  The other difficulty was our business visa sponsor was listed in Russian and we didn’t really know all the details about company.  I at least was familiar with the Russian alphabet but Joe had no idea.   So, he was trying to copy the name of the company in Russia but was having some trouble. 

 

After filling out the forms, we were directed into this little building where a Russian soldier was sitting at a desk.  Again, we were ordered to fill out a form in duplicate.   This time is was a customs form, questioning if we had any forbidden items and what we were importing.  There were many things forbidden, books, musical instruments, propaganda, etc.   Well, we had books and a musical instrument, but when I tried to ask the customs guy questions, he just yelled at me to answer to no to everything except the vehicle importation part.  So, I filled it out, hurriedly.   I was fully dressed in  my riding gear, and it was hot in the building….so I was starting to sweat fairly badly.   I felt like I must have looked guilty of something.   As soon as my papers were stamped, I was out of that building, leaving Joe to fend for himself.   The one thing I understood was to make sure not to lose the two forms, immigration and customs, that were just filled out, because we would need them to leave the country.  

 

I walked back out to the bikes and noticed Joe’s bike was leaking gas, and two soldiers were looking at it.   They started barking at me and pointing at the gas.   I just smiled and said it was no bid deal and mumbled a few other things.   They glared at me disapprovingly, but seemed to turn their attention to something in some guy’s trunk. 

 

Joe came out of the customs house looking a little freaked.   I was already getting ready and on the bike, because the guy with the baton kept motioning for me to get going.   Joe was taking his time getting his things together... so I told him to hurry and let’s get out of here, and we can get our stuff together when we get out of their sight.   So, we took off, with jackets unzipped and pockets open and rode around the corner.   There was another checkpoint, checking passports, again.   We took off from there and rode around a two lane, curvy road, finally stopping on a little dirt road to get situated.

 

We took a left on a larger two lane road, headed to St. Petersburg.   We soon learned that our awarding the Italians as the worst drivers on the planet had been premature.   The two lanes were fairly wide and there were numerous  old, extremely smoky tractor trailers driving near the shoulder.   Some were going as slow as 25 mph.  The rest of the traffice was driving around those trucks near the center lane.   The cars traveling really fast were passing those cars in the middle of the road.   Finally, cars that were stuck behind the trucks would occasionally strike out on the dirt shoulder to pass.   So,  this two lane road was operating like a 6 lane.  And, there were people stopped all along the road, smoking cigarettes and standing around.  We were in shock.  Everything was moving so fast, we were just trying to stay alive.   By this time it was dusk, so we pulled over at a little motel/pizzeria and gas station.    As soon as we pulled up, all eyes were upon us.  It was obvious not many motorcycles came through here, especially caring a couple of Americans.   There were two fairly serious looking security guards, who eyed us suspiciously, standing in the parking lot.   A stereotypical Russian guy immediately met us as we walked in.  He  was pretty excited to see us and was trying to make us welcome.   We didn’t have any rubles, so he agreed to exchange some money for us.   I was nervous about this because we had been warned about counterfeit money and scams, but what could we do?   So, we were shown to our room, which was modest to say the least.   The bathroom had a shower, but no shower curtain.  There was just a drain in the middle of the floor.   Two single beds and a little dresser in a hot room.  

 

We started unpacking and Joe immediately noticed he couldn’t find his customs form.   Remember the two forms we were ordered not to lose.  Well, Joe had already lost one.  Panic set in.  We searched everything four times, but no form.  I just kept saying, “I’m sure we will find it” and “it’s probably no bid deal”.   Joe was not too happy about me rushing him at the customs office, but what could I do… we’ve got two soldiers unhappy about Joe’s leaking bike and another waiving us to hurry and go.    Joe had worked up a good sweat in his panic, which eventually turned into despair.

 

After coming to the conclusion that his form really was lost, we decided to go eat and try to calm down.   We ate a pizza and some cokes and chilled out.  We had to pay the security guys a little extra to “watch” our bikes, and then we headed to bed.   Our first experience in Russia had not been great, so we were hoping to get up early and head out.  We figured it was just that crazy because we were near the border.

 

Shortly after getting in bed, I started feeling a little green.  So, I spent the next 6 hours going back and forth between the bed and the bathroom and eating pepto bismol tablets.  

 

By the time Joe woke up, I was seriously tired and weak.   We thought of riding all day while being sick wasn’t appealing, but it sure beat the hell out of staying in that hot room for another night.   Hello, Russia!!

 

 

 


Comments

Harley oil coolers link
04/24/2012 6:51am

I have read this post. I think Russia is very coldest country. Thanks.

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