Today the horse dung hit the fan.
We had difficulty packing our bags on the horse, so E asked a local man to help us. He tied our big backpacks vertically instead of horizontally to the sides of the horse and the the provisions and a couple smaller bags on top. That was quite an improvement and we rode of confident that our bags would hold.
But barely 15 minutes later our bags lay scattered on the good earth. Several dirt tracks lead from Moron to Khatgal, and we were riding on the one less traveled. But that did not keep a motorcycle from heading towards us, spooking our packhorse. That horse's frenzy spooked the other three horses. Our bags went flying. Provisions lay scattered on the ground along with the smaller bags. No one was injured. Our big backpacks remained tied to the animal, which stopped back at camp.
In the process we lost the tent poles and the stove was damaged.
We decided that I would ride with the baggage to Khatgal while E and M would ride the four horses up to that town.
In the meantime, E's family car approached, filling E with embarrassment. His horseman and mother and a couple kids piled out, discussed the matter, and took me back to Moron. Our three hour horse trek took 22 minutes in the Toyota Land Cruiser.
From Moron I found transport to Khatgal, a squished 3 hour ride in a minivan, paying double the rate due to the large amount of baggage I had.
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