Do baboons have to suffer?

Although I was aware of how exhausting a day of cycling through the steppes of Kazakhstan is without enough sleep, I couldn’t resist watching the final of the European Football Championship on TV. Due to the time difference, it didn’t start until 11:45 pm. “Anyway, if Germany has made it to the final, I can’t miss the opportunity,” I thought. At 2:00 in the morning, I turned off the little TV set, completely frustrated, and crawled into bed. Although I am not a soccer specialist and the Russian commentator was hard for me to understand, I understood that the Spaniards played the German national team to the ground and deserved to win.

At 9:00 in the morning I sit on my bike, dead tired, and pedal it through the town of Aktöbe. The cars keep scaring me with their loud honking. The passengers wave and shout, cheering us on. Even if they mean well, I’m not in the best of moods. Would my mood be in a different state if the game had ended positively for the Germans? “Denis, my bike springs like an old sofa!” Tanja’s voice snaps me out of my tired thoughts. We find a dusty spot on the side of the road and lean our Intercontinental against a fence. “The Magura suspension strut is flat,” I realize, puzzled. On this stage, an air-sprung main shock from Magura is installed in the riese und müller bike frame for the first time. The comfort with such a high-tech suspension is amazing. This suspension strut will be launched on the market in the near future. Our journey is a good testing ground for such technical innovations. So far it has withstood the endurance test perfectly, but now the suspension has suddenly been lifted. “If the important suspension strut has given up the ghost, I don’t know how we’re going to get anywhere,” I grumble, even more disgruntled than before. A few minutes later I am relieved to see that the suspension is working perfectly again after inflation. “Someone at the hotel must have played a trick on us,” I say. “What do you mean?” “I think someone just let the air out.” “Hm, that’s possible. The bikes were in a room in the conference room that was accessible to everyone. There were a lot of people there,” says Tanja. “That’s right. I also found it hard to imagine that this robust suspension strut would just let us down like that.”

Now perfectly sprung again, we leave the city behind us. Light cloud cover and a tailwind at last help us to make good progress for the first few kilometers. Still, I can feel my butt after the writing break. It burns like fire and I don’t know how to sit. “Do you feel the same way?” I want to know. “I’m fine,” Tanja replies, which is why I can’t share the momentary pain with her. “Thank God the master isn’t against us today,” I realize minutes later. For some time now, we no longer call the wind by its name. Because it was constantly blowing from the wrong direction, I attributed it to an intelligent entity that was deliberately playing a trick on us. When we talk now, we no longer give any details about where we are going, what we like or dislike. We are therefore using confusion tactics so that he no longer knows where and when he can and should oppose us. When it comes to the wind, we only speak in code words. Only in closed rooms, where he can’t hear us, do we call him by his name. We usually joke and laugh about our tactics. It seems to have worked today, because he is pushing us forward with unusual strength. “I think he’s all mixed up now. On the way to Aktöbe he came from the east and now from the west,” I say. “Our ruse works great!” replies Tanja. “Ha! Ha! Ha,” I laugh gleefully. “Don’t laugh too loudly, in the end he knows who we mean and he’ll play his game even worse with us.” “No, he doesn’t know who we mean. How could he? The winds in my stomach are constantly going back and forth, from left to right and from right to left.” “You’re right. There are many masters. The grand master, the master baker, the company master, the guild master.” “Yes, and the master is in a good mood today.” “Yes, a master who has your back is a good master. Do you agree with me?” “But yes. A master with your back is perfect. Ha! Ha! Ha!” “Hi! Hi! Hi!” it replies from Tanja’s healthy lungs.

The first 40 kilometers of the day are behind us. We get our butts out of the saddle to take a short break. Not far from us, a rider drives his herd of camels across the steppe. The kings of the desert graze peacefully in the lush green wasteland and remind us of the strenuous but very beautiful years we spent with our seven dromedaries in Australia’s outback. “It was an unforgettable time,” I say, pointing to the Bactrian camels. “Yes, especially the fourth year. Things went really well then.” “That’s right, we and our boys (that’s what we called our camels) were used to the nomadic life and the routine. We were a close-knit team,” I reply somewhat ruefully. Thoughtfully, we enjoy the view and the soothing tranquillity. To satisfy our constant hunger we eat bread, a few tomatoes, cucumbers and eggs. Then we continue our ride through the treeless grassland. After 10 ½ hours we reach the mining town of Khromtau. Man-made dark mountains rise out of the flat prairie everywhere. We are told that ores are dug here, from which chrome in particular is extracted. We drive our road trains over a strenuous hill and let ourselves roll into the settlement on the other side. “You’ll find a gastiniza in the center,” explains the friendly woman at a petrol station.

In fact, a surprisingly new-looking building awaits us. “It must be expensive,” I say. “Why do you think that?” “Well, it looks like business and professional people from all over the world are staying here,” I reply, making my way to reception. “Where are you from?” ask two men in perfect English who don’t look Kazakh. “Well, you’ve got your work cut out for you,” the two Finnish businessmen reply, shaking their heads after I tell them our travel plans. A young Kazakh is standing next to them. He serves as a translator for the two experts and helps me explain to the woman at reception how risky it is to leave our bikes outside in the parking lot at night. It doesn’t take long and the nice lady allows us to store the bikes in a damp, dark work and storage room. “Here you have the key. When you leave in the morning, please give it to my colleague,” she says with a caring smile. As usual, we lug our equipment up to the second floor of the accommodation. After 103 kilometers, as always an effort that really challenges us once again. Then we sit in the small room at a temperature of 33 degrees. We just about manage to fit our luggage in. The restaurant has already closed. With burning muscles, we look for a magazine to buy some food and drink. As always, the offer is not plentiful. However, 10 or 15 years ago there was almost nothing. So we can be very satisfied. We buy the obligatory and only available white bread, mayonnaise, some cheese, tomatoes and a few gherkins. Back in the room, we shower the dust and sweat from the road off our bodies. As the water runs down my back and drips over the curves of my bottom onto the floor, I could scream. The seats of my buttocks are sore. “Look, does that look bad?” I ask Tanja. “Like a baboon’s bottom,” she replies jokingly. “Well, the poor guys must be suffering incredibly. They’ve had such an ass their whole lives. I’m glad I’m not one,” I reply slowly and deliberately, sitting down on the only chair in the room. “Why is it so hot here?” wonders Tanja. “The heating is on in the bathroom. It can’t be turned off. We absolutely have to keep the bathroom door closed tonight,” I decide, somewhat agonized. “And there are plenty of mosquitoes here too,” Tanja notes, preparing our meal on the small fridge, as there is no table. “Well, for 6,000 tenge (33 euros), the masters of the house must have something to offer us.” “Ha! Ha! Ha! Very funny,” Tanja replies with a laugh.

Dear reader of our diary!!!

We are happy to write down our experiences here. We are happy to share our experiences with you. However, our journey also has a meaning for us, a deeper meaning. We no longer expose ourselves to such efforts just for the pleasure of it. We have experienced too much for that. Of course, our motivation is still to experience peoples, cultures, their customs and traditions. We are still exploring the unknown corners of our mother earth with an unquenched thirst for knowledge. It gives us energy and purpose in life. However, despite all the positives, we have also experienced many of the downsides of human civilization. We have seen with our own eyes a tremendous amount of human suffering and environmental destruction. It hurts us as if a knife were penetrating deep into our own skin. Our life project “The Great Journey” has taken on a different dimension for us for years now. During the trip, during our travel life, we also want to do something to balance things out. Giving something back to the troubled planet. Not out of selfishness or gratification or self-aggrandizement, but to really do something sustainable. To do something for us humans. For our children. So that they too can breathe fresh air tomorrow. So that they too can play in the sandpit in the open air and swim in clean rivers. We wish all beings on this wonderful, fantastic planet a future worth living. So we urge you to plant at least one tree a month for the Green Vein. You can find more information on our website. (One tree 5,- Euro) We can’t do it alone. We don’t have the financial means. Not yet. Only together can we make a difference. Our motivation lies not only in knowing that our texts are currently read by between 40,000 and 50,000 (forty thousand and fifty thousand) people a month. Our motivation is to work together to create something sustainable for our human future. Together means together with all of you. That’s why we write, that’s why you can read the texts without any financial investment. So we ask for a donation to the mountain forest project. A project that works without profit. A project we have been looking for years to give our name to. A project we trust. We ask you to donate trees. Trees that give us air to breathe. Habitat for insects and birds. Living space for the earth’s population in future years. The donations do not benefit us financially in the slightest. Everything you give goes to Mother Earth!!! We guarantee this with our life project and our name.

Donations are very welcome at:
Bergwaldprojekt e.V.
Keyword:Green vein
GLS Community Bank
SORT CODE 43060967
Account number 8022916200

Mother Earth is alive!

We look forward to your comments!