Camping in a steppe

Due to internet restriction, some blog entries date back as far as 20 days.

A 5-day camping trip in Mongolia. We decided to hire our own guide and a driver through the guesthouse instead of joining a tour with one of the many agencies in Ulaanbaatar, since it seemed to give us more flexibility and choice. Our route was to remain within the Central Mongolia, since 5 days is too short to see much more than a 1,000km (600 miles) course.

The scenery slowly changes from steppe to highlands, from mountains to valleys. I spent most of the full-day drive sleeping, exhausted from past few sleepless days. We arrived to Boktkhaan Uul Natural Reserve, an open highland with a sand dune stretched out from the mountain to the opposite horizon. We built our tent, began cooking, and realized we are surrounded by a herd of horses, with their head attached to the ground, slowly moving themselves across ignoring strange intruders there.

Next day. When we finished our breakfast with coffee and tea, a boy about 12 years old on a horse dragging two others arrived our camp. He was our guide for the day, and two other horses were our rides. There are many foreign travelers who takes a horse trek tour for a few days, and then there are those who buy horses to go on a lonely travel for weeks. We knew a half-day would be enough for us, so we made such request to our guide the night before. I stepped into the stirrup, pulled myself up and mounted on a wooden saddle; a typical Mongolian style. It was not as uncomfortable as I imagined, though it has been twenty-some years since I have been on a horse, so anything can feel acceptable to a beginner. A light tap on the horse's stomach with a "chou!" was enough to get my horse to walk, but Sahe was having a bit more difficulty with her partner. The guide's whip finally helped this quiet mammal to start walking, but Sahe must have felt bad about using it and never once raised it against the horse.

In the evening Botcha, our driver dropped us off at the campsite and went off to take the jeep to a shop, apparently with some transmission problem. In the meantime, we collected branches and cow dung to start a fire, and began cooking. In this dry and windy land, it is easy to keep a fire once collecting enough kindling. Botcha returned with a replacement jeep, just as beat-up as the first one. We ate, got drunk on Mongolian vodka and their singing about nature and land, and threw ourselves on the endless field, to see the sky filled with stars. The only thing that kept us from losing ourselves is the hard grass that kept poking on our backs.

The replacement car seems to have just as much issues as the first one. In the morning of the third day we drove to the lake Olkhon to spend a relaxing day, and then we stopped by at a local ger after lunch. It was to purchase aiareg, fermented horse milk. Across the entrance, there were a few men settled on the seats and floor, and on the left, "mother's side", there were a few women sitting on a bench bed. We were escorted to the right, or the "father's side", and sat. A plastic cup full of aiareg reached towards us, and I thankfully receive it. The milky liquid has things floating in it but this cannot be a turn-off for this challenge. I take a sip and tasted sour, warm, spoiled yogurt. There was no time to examine as all eyes were on my cup like waiting for a reply in an interview. Either something clever had to be said or something brave had to be done. Slowly but surely, I gulped and finished the entire cup. I took a breath, which they must have misread my thoughts as another cup was passed to me... As a guest to their home and their customs I have no right to say no, so we each took a second cup. A guy must have liked me that he was kind enough to offer me a Luke warm beer in a plastic bottle. Chugged and done. Now I was woozy and numb. Botcha bought 3 bottles od aiareg and we prisoners were released.

Mixture of smoke and steam kept leaking out of the hood, but we made it to the camp site. Instead of checking the car, Botcha pulled out one of the bottles purchased a couple hours ago, took a swig, and passed it towards me... I was hoping those were gifts for his family. When I was working at a bar, an elder bartender once taught me to try any alcohol with a strange taste at least 3 times before making any judgment. I took the bottle and took a swig, my second drink of the day. There was more carbonation in the drink and was strangely refreshing. Now I am due for the third try in the future before making any judgement.

The 4th day. We spent the relaxed morning, and planned travel to Kyustain Nuruu National Park in the evening to see wild horses. 100km (70 miles) would only take about 2 hours even on the off-road derby paths, so we left around 14:30. We drove for 10 minutes and the vehicle loses it's momentum. We opened the hood to be covered with steam and smoke, a clear sign of an overheat. One of the tubes extending out from the radiator has a crack and leaking coolant. Botcha reattached the tube, filled the radiator with our drinking water, and we went on our way. Again it was only good for 10 minutes. Now we have a crack in the plastic cover, spraying boiling water like a hot spring. Radiator is no longer attached to the vehicle, as it dangled in between the engine and the grill. He now takes a belt-rope to tie it off to the body, and pore adhesive onto the crack. With such terrible road condition, we see so many Mongoian guys on the road inside of and under the hood, using duct tapes and epoxy for their fine tuning. Sahe and I, not knowing what to do went on a hike to a ger nearby to fetch more water. We drive some, and cool the engine some. This went on for a few time when we finally reached a small town. The shop was full of cars, waiting for burst tire repairs. The young guy was nice enough to try various ways to solve many problems, and 3 hours later, the machine was in tact just enough to get us back to the city. It was already after a midnight when we arrived our campsite.

The final day. Our guide insisted on leaving early to see wild horses so we folded our tents and went on our way. Known as Takhi, these wild creatures were once announce extinct, but by bringing back descendants of the species once captured and brought back to European zoos in past, there are now about 200 living in a strictly protected park. To be honest, we were more worried about being able to get back to the city safely than seeing the only breed of wild horses in the world, but when we arrived the river where they drink water in the morning, and saw a herd of them just reaching the top of the mountain walking proudly against the wind, it was really a special moment. From there we made sure that our guide didn't make any new suggestions and requested to head straight back. With a couple cooling stops, the car made back to Ulaanbaatar before noon.