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P.A.R.T.I.C.L.E   C.O.L.L.I.D.E.R spell it out, tramp stamp it on your girl. Hell get it above your own rosebud with a set of crosshairs. They take electrons or neutrons or quarks or something smaller than my rapidly dwindling readership, spooge one out of a rail gun death ray and spin 'em around a 21km track up to .99 the speed of light. Said accelerated particle is then smashed into things - reality tv "stars", celebrities, scenesters, hipsters, trustfund kids etc, to see how they react when hit with the force of a dumptruck concentrated on a space smaller than the head of a pin. This one's soviet era, likely built as a form of social entertainment. As you can imagine this is pretty amusing to watch, a modern day coliseum deep below the earth. Good on 'em, no wonder America hated the USSR so much. Hollywood funded the cold war to stop the soviets blowing apart kidnapped American actors with a rail gun. History as you know it, is a lie.

Two hours from Moscow attributable to roadworks, getting lost and driving "like a bullet fired from a shit" as  Moscowhite decribed, is a quaint crumbling asphalt road surrounded by trees and little else. Like the Florida Door and such places, the collider is built far from civilisation, in places where the air is clean and the nights are clear. So clear in fact that one could walk by starlight to a small concrete hut indistinguishable from every other piece of shit derelict concrete blockhouse you've ever seen. Rust trimmed doorway, boarded up windows, infantile graffiti, you know the type. This is why underground exploration is king, the extent of your exploration is unknown until you venture inside and have a peek. With a factory or a powerstation or an asylum the bounds of the site are clearly visible, the edges are definite, the scope is approximately known. Enter that crappy little blockhouse and you might just, if you're lucky, find this.

The shaft deposits you into a short access tunnel which leads to the large maintenance tunnel which runs the length of the actual firing track, above it. The actual tunnels in which the particles are fired are to my knowledge unexplored because they're both smaller and either flooded or filled with pulped celebrities. The track has a 21km circumference, just 6km shorter than the Large Hardon Collider recently completed near Geneva. This collider unfortunately was never finished. Moscowhite described it as a great shame of his country. The Soviet union fell and the results of $2m (in 1980's dollars) was put into stasis. It's not rotting, large pumps operate to remove the build up of leaking ground water and minimal maintenance is completed to keep her in this state. The collider is much the same now as the day the workers walked off site.



Spaced about one hour apart around the circumference are access shafts like the one we entered via. The next was much more complicated than our entrance, having side tunnels and a flooded shaft down to what I presume is the firing track. We deemed it time to depart, returned to our access shaft and emerged reborn into the bright daylight. 7am, time for sleep and icecream at Treebeard's.



Our final night in Moscow saw us gather with the_reverse, skyfi, industreal, hedhog, bw_muscat, boo and a few others at the World Fair site, hoist our drinks high and toast more times than anyone can remember to Collectors, Diggers and international exploration. Somehow we roped 4 girls into the merriment. Two looked about 17, the other two slightly younger. Quickly the old two tired of our drunken antics and departed, leaving their friends with us. What possessed them to do such a thing I've no idea but the remaining two shared our alcohol and good spirits. Shortly Skyfi had his arms around both. The boy is a true player and Boo, the only girl present, was not amused. The next day we discoverd they were 12 and 13, this wasn't called the CCCP for nothing. More antics followed on the metro ride home, let it be known the Moscovites don't take to midriding and opening the carriage doors between stations with good humour like the Parisians.


pic: qx


pic: qx

Our week in Moscow came to an end. Siologen and Flame departed early and hungover to Domodedovo airport while qx and I crammed our belongings into backpacks bursting at the seams. We donated our waders to the Diggers, purchased a few supplies for the next leg of our trip (more on those later), munched boiled dumplings, had a rainy rooftop party and rolled to Komsomolskaya station which is pompous, opulent and incredible. I've seen ballrooms that don't look this good. When the Moscow metro is described as a church of the commoner you best believe it. At Komsomolskaya we boarded the Transsiberian, destination Mongolia.



All hell broke loose between our russian friends and the chinese carriage guards over whether qx and I should keep hold of our tickets aboard the train and the 5 russians surrounded then machine gunned the poor guy. Once again it dawned on me how much more difficult this trip would have been without the assistance of our new Russian friends.


pic: qx

I'm having trouble putting into words how excellent Russia is. I've written two dozen paragraphs already but feel more was missed than included. We didn't know that to expect from the city, much less the people. We never felt threatened, scared or vunerable, the horror stories we'd heard seemed possible but nothing that couldn't happen in any modern capital. The people were incredibly friendly, generous and welcoming especially the explorers who were top of their game. Huge thanks to Moscowhite, Reverse, Skifi, InDustReal, BWMuscat, urban Psychosis, Boo, IdPsyduck, Paratozer, the crazy shirtless guys under the university, the people whose names I've forgotten; you all contributed so much to a group of people you'd never met but with whom you share a strong passion for adventure, exploration and well, life. We really, really appreciate it. Be sure to visit yall hear?

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