Do Iron Butt on the Western highways or native far Eastern roads - two big differences. Miles-one, that's just ass different work.
We have decided to try to pass the Iron Butt regulation to back to back to back to back to the motorcycle Motovola 2010 in Blagoveshchensk (known as "Moika of motorcycles"). The three of us are: Vladimir Zhalliak, Alexander "Sturman" and I-Mikhail "Cock". Volodus and I are on two Honda Shadow VT1100 (1987 and 1996). ) and Sana on Honda VTX1800S (2002). ). Guerrilla started at Guerrilla at 3:00 in the morning. The first receipts were picked up at the petrol stations, and the witnesses flashed and waved. So, the contest over time (and with health, too) began. The first stop is in Nakhodka: we need proof of arrival. We came to the DPS post and we say, well, behave badly, fine! The guys in the uniform were being misspelled, but hearing our explanations went to meet them. Well, there was a lot to punish. I'm the only one with the papers, but I need a receipt, too. I'm asking you to write for a faulty stop-signal-you don't feel sorry for me. Lose a little bit of time, you know, catch up. Volodya's first neck, he's got a xenon. Speed 120-125 km/hSuddenly I notice the side of the dust on the side of the road. Regulation is a norm, and people need to always be. We stop, see, the body of the girl, but not the downed, but the "exhausted" alcohol. We're the "God of God" thing. Here and her dog was crawled out of the bushes. To be honest, I barely kept my hands on the hilt, how much time they spent on them!The next unnecessary stop is in the Fokino post. We're not being missed. For an unassigned VTX account, they threaten to take him to a fine court. But since we already have a fine for it, they let go. The digs were stocated in the pharmacy with hematomogen. The sweetness is good, but it's not good. That's why they didn' t forget the sandwiches. Only to eat them was "not fate": on the entrance to the native Ussuriysk, Sasha's ill-fated backpack Sasha's backpack opened, and the precious sorrel went to the asphalt. There's one hematomogen left. Ussuriisk got locked up at 6:30 in the morning. There's Sasha oorhi: at this rate, we won't have time. My ass is down. She had recently been hit by a small rain, a bald rubber, an illiterative braking ... The painkillers were painkillers before leaving. Then they took the pills. And in 15 hours, there was nothing to help. Every 150 to 180 km. Oriented on Vovka (more specifically, his tank). The time was saved by all: one hand was paid for petrol, the other was casserized with a sweet hematomogen. Rewriting the odometer-and back in the saddle. In the village of Mihailovka (30km from Ussuriysk) again lost time. Vovka and I turned off the road, decided to go to the village. Our Sasha Fint did not understand and went on in the hope that he would come to his senses. We got lost, and when we left for the road, Sani's phone didn' t answer. They thought he was gone, and they followed him. In the end, he's driven us, he's, like, 180 miles an hour. Poor our motorbikes! Made for normal roads, the depths of 3-6 cm, they took a lot of stilts. The main danger is the bridges. They must be either a pit or a ledge or some other package. Rude is hell for a cruise. Average design speed on the route is 72-76 km/h. We tried to keep it at least 130 miles per hour, and sometimes we'd run to 160. We had to stay at Vyazemsky for an hour and a half. It took so long to search for a welder and repair the motor cycle: a pendulum metal could not withstand the Wowin machine, it vomits the shock absorber. The rivets were rivets and the pipes vibrated with vibration. It's a good thing they've noticed, or they were looking for a welder on the open spaces of the Amur region. While I was working, I bought food and a lot of cold drink (which is, of course, at a temperature of 40-42 ° C in the shade). Crundered, overhauled. Time is running out, but together we come together. If we don't go to bed, we'll try it another time. Repairs complete. The GPS-navigator told about a decent delay in the schedule. We agreed that we wouldn't do anything to get your head blown off, and then we'd try to make it up to you. But they were just moved, like crazy people. They started overtaking, cutting cars. And how many times I've crossed the line! In sum, we can strip away our rights of the year by 500. I'm not proud of our antics. Remember, guys, no stripes are worth risking your life so stupid. Finally got to Khabarovsk. And then I notice that I lost a stack of glass. Do you remember what I asked for? I got it, I got it. But the fine now corresponds to reality. At 4:18. Took a long way to get out of town for a long time. Cities, villages, settlements, gas stations. How much time they have taken away, just awful! And the heat has increased. A hell of a hell, which struck Russia at the beginning of the summer did not go beyond the Far East. The constant thirst has become the norm. Then we realized that the drink needed to be more than once. In the meantime, our team continued slowly but properly dehydrated. The road ran through the Jewish Autonomous Oblast. Front of the DPS. Blow the rod, and we stopped short. To stay out of the documents, just ask us to take our word for it. And believe me! Can you believe it? But then it turned out that they wanted us to just rest a little, and settle down, as we saw from far away that we were as proud as we were. It's a hard turn, like on the palm of your hand, and our innocent faces looked colic. I've been thinking more and more about why I need it. The malevolence of the organism in general, and some places in particular, have been known to themselves. But I ran the shots. The roads in the EAO have been pleasing, especially one segment where I "put" the speedometer (200 km/h), and only the beetle, lying in the driveway, marred the picture a little bit. To say that I was hurt was nothing to say. A little more, and we are in the Amur region with the repair of the M60 highway in the village of Obi-bend. Oil painting: impressive river stones, size from fist to handball, unpacked and unpacked, lie thick across the width of the road more than one kilometer. There's nothing to do. Walking with the bike has started. The limb is tiring. One wrong move, and you lie "enjoying" the stone pavement. I fell four times, but, thank God, the arc has lived up to its purpose. Yeah, and the coot worked it out, too. With the help of all the biker gods, this is the land. Then, on the fly, I found out that many bikes had fought at that point. A little breathing and looking at each other. How can we all be dusty, dirty, sweaty! In the evening we had no idea what to do with our seder. Then on the left side, then on the right buttock, it was nearly on the back of the forecastle. The road turned and we went into the sunset. The poison-red sun burned his eyes. The shades of protective goggles are no parentable now, they're almost out of the way. At last the sun was in the village, giving the opportunity to the pharaas to cover the area. I once again convinced myself of the xenon's need. Honestly, at that moment, I didn' t care enough that my headlight was blind. (Revision: A pity! This is not just disrespect for the same road users, but also a direct road accident. We wish the author of these lines to learn to think more than one move forward. Moreover, not only with the passing of regulations, but also on the road at all.) The moss of the helmets were quickly covered with a layer of insects. It was dark, and it was so full of them!A "need" stop. Sanja was glad that Iron Butt will come in 165 kilometers. And Vladimir said that the tank was almost empty. I don't have much too. Sasha's fuel is good, but it's not a leak. It's in question. Sana' s phone was contacted by the Amur brothers in the Trofi-Raids, and they said that there were 30 km of gas stations. Let' s go. The ovka didn' t reach 16 km. Sasha and I went all the way down to the place, filled with petrol, and filled the tar, which we were kind enough to find a nice woman-a girl. I was trying to save Vovka. There's still a chance. Personally, I had no doubt we would, but we still have to hurry. A second (or perhaps a third) breath is opened closer to the end point. I guess the excitement's bigger. We have a final period and a reference to Blagoveshchensk 13km. I was the last to see that guys weren't running over 100, 110 miles an hour. I know they're tired, but we should hurry. Went to the overrun and started "roasting" at least 150 mph. It's good that the asphalt is perfect and with the layout. But the ease and dehydration made the case. The brain started to go out and make some cool hallucinations. That sign on the road runs out, and the asphalt will rise up into the sky. And lots of interesting things. But I could still be aware of the unreality of what's going on. The first noble gas station appeared before us, like some kind of saving island-the checks are taken. But we have to go another 10 km, the witnesses are waiting for the DPS. After this way, what's 10 km away for us? See!Let' s go. I'm back. I see the sign of "One-Way Movement" and I think, "Why is it here?" But they were going right ... And then a minibus is carrying me! To avoid the collision, I pressed close to the right side of the road, right along the line that was already bred. And yet the left pinky hit the mirror. He stopped feeling it, took off his health. Already at the DPS post, Sasha asked, "Did you go to the skin?" It was a hallucination that could cost me life. Now, remembering the episode, the sign and the edge of the road appear before our eyes. The last document in the form of a police protocol was not easy for us. At first, the vistas, having heard of the request of us to be fined, choking, not believing that we were serious. But when it came to us that we weren't kidding, we took us for idiots. A quick but detailed explanation is understood. Everybody! We did it! But so tired, that there is no joy in the half-dead eyes. They only have weariness and dust. A sense of pride lay somewhere deep in his heart. Now sleep, and tomorrow on the party, have fun!There are many dangers in the road. Not every time anyone could get off the road, maybe he was dead. But this time, the guardian angels were with us. What if he didn' t? Or are they gonna take your mind off the other side? So, if you decide to do something like this, you need to weigh it (and more than once), because you don't have to do this without risk and violation of the traffic rules. Andrey "Kotafei", Editor of Moto: What is it for? Thirlust for self-realization? Gordynia? Or is it just a blow? And where's the line between the dupe and the heroism? Remember how the feat of Erofeyev's evil is tempted by the Venetia: " You're better than that, take-and jump out of the train. If you don't crash ... " Does that remind you of anything? You can jump with a parachute out of a plane, and you can jump from a five-etop to a coffin. That's the difference between a dugout and a sport. The owner of the nomination, I passed it on the second time (the first one ended in an accident). Dummy? I think so. Indeed, no one is worth living and human health, but the line between the adventure and the sudden collapse of all hopes is thin. Try not to step over it!