Cape Khoboy is where Olkhon Island runs out of land. It marks the northern tip of the largest island in Lake Baikal, a long finger of rock and steppe that lies parallel to the western shore, and the cape ends in cliffs of dark stone pierced by narrow caves, with the open water of the lake stretching off towards the far mountains. The nearest village is Khuzhir, thirty-eight kilometres to the south, and between the two there is almost nothing built. That emptiness is exactly why people come.
The ride is an adventure rather than a road. From Khuzhir a track leads north across the island, sandy in places, rutted in others, and best handled on a bike you are comfortable picking up. Gradients are gentle but the surface changes constantly, with hard-packed gravel, soft sand patches, and corrugations that can shake the fillings out of your teeth if you hit them at the wrong speed. Rain turns clay to grease, and the wind that comes across Baikal is sharp and persistent, so dress for cold even on a warm day.
The land you ride across is unusual: dry steppe with feather grass and wild thyme, interrupted by patches of pine and larch, and the smell is dry and herbal, nothing like the damp forests of the western shore. Olkhon is sacred ground for Buryat shamans, and the rock called Shamanka near Khuzhir is the best known of many holy places on the island. At the cape, as elsewhere, you will see coloured ribbons tied to posts, and visitors are expected to show a little reverence rather than treating the place as a playground.
Time your visit for late afternoon, when the light on the cliffs turns amber and the lake takes on a deep indigo. Baikal's seals, the nerpa, haul out on rocks in some seasons, though you are more likely to see gulls and cormorants. Bring food and water for the day, take your time on the track, and remember that help is a long way off if something goes wrong.