Kultuk gave its name to a wind, and anyone who has crossed the southern end of Baikal on a bike will understand why. The village stands at the extreme southwestern tip of the lake, where the water narrows between the mountains, and when a strong westerly funnels down the basin the locals call it the kultuk. Gusts here can lean a loaded motorcycle sideways, so keep your speed steady and your grip loose when you leave the shelter of the trees.
It is also a place of junctions. The old Siberian trunk road and the Trans-Siberian Railway both swing past on their way around the lake, and the Tunkinsky Trakt, the route into the long valley between the Sayan mountains and the Khamar-Daban, starts nearby. Slyudyanka, a railway town of nearly nineteen thousand people about seven kilometres away, is where you will find fuel, shops and cafes in larger numbers; Kultuk itself is a village of four thousand with the basics and a handful of places to eat. The railway has a character of its own here, with the Circum-Baikal line, built in the early twentieth century with dozens of tunnels and stone bridges, running down the shore a short way east.
The ride out along the Tunkinsky Trakt is a pleasure. The road climbs gently into the valley with mountains on both sides, the asphalt is mostly good, and the corners are long and unhurried. Larch, pine and birch cover the slopes, and the light in late afternoon turns the hills a deep blue. In summer the meadows smell of cut grass, and in September the larches turn gold. Traffic is moderate, though trucks cluster on the climbs, so patience and a clear view are all you need to pass them safely.
Slyudyanka itself has a small mineral museum that recalls the marble and mica once quarried in the area, and the station building, faced with local stone, is worth a look if you have ten minutes. Buy water and food here, eat something hot, and top the tank before the valley, because the villages beyond are small. The Tunkinsky Trakt is long, so there is no point rushing the first hour.