Bayanzurkh Down Time

Maybe I like this place. Maybe I wake up with a different attitude tomorrow. Maybe I stay another night to rest my horse if I can find grass. The lady who runs this place has a yardfull of grass and a haystack!
Baigalma makes breakfast. I ask if I can do the eggs and she lets me. Oh, boy! Red and black pepper.

Hotel and Max in foreground

I am trying to negotiate grass for Max. i should have let him chow down yesterday while I had the chance. Grass is too short here.

Baigalma speaks Japanese better than English. This facilitates communication. But she gives me only one slice of bread, so I go fetch the bread Otgon had given me a week ago. It has only a couple flecks of mould. Yesterday, before leaving Alana I noticed my butter had gone bad due to the rain. Wrapped in paper it moulded quickly once wet).

I have decided to spend an extra day here. At noon I was able to collect grass by hand from the yard of the hotel lady. She would not let me bring Max to her yard, though. So a couple boys, including the lad from yesterday, helped out - but not much. At least they grabbed a bunch from the hay stack before the older boy told them not to. I carry the sack of hay - 20 kg? - to the hotel and feed Max. In twelve hours he will have finished it and be looking for more.
This horseriding adventure is really cool! Outside of the cities and towns, there is no private land in Mongolia. Get on your horse and go! Unbelievable!

Three women prepare tons of food in the kitchen. Tokobetsu no hi desu ka? A special day? I ask. Tomorrow is the first day of school, a time to celebrate.

Road to Bayanzurkh - Day 9 Solo

Departure: 10:45 am.
Arrival: 4:20 pm
Stopped often to feed.

It was cold last night. I awoke at 4:30 and put on my thick jacket. I was up at 6 with Davaa to foto, but it was disappointing. It took a while for the sun to peek over the nearby hills. Davaa says my horse won't last until Moron. It will fall over, she mimes. We joke about it. I would be happy with two more weeks. I think that would be enough. This is really fun! Of course, I don't want my horse to die underway!
Dinner in Bayanzurkh - five greasy Khorshor.  I am getting frustrated. I got my first turn down at a home. Then I searched and searched for e Namjiljong Hotel. A small boy Bat Tulka helped me out. He fetched water from the river down a steep incline. He came with ame to a shop. I intended to buy him a treat, but they would not sell me dried kiwisfor 100 tg. Then he said he knew where the tall grass grows. Max is starving. So we walked up the abutting hillside to a rocky mesa. I was getting perturbed. No grass.
Today the road forked early. But some kids were nearby and I asked for the road to Bayanzurkh. They pointed me in the right direction and the older brother came. They rode with me half an hour down the hill and then said good-bye. Have you ever wondered how a little kid mounts a horse? She brings its head down to feed, lays herself across its neck and when the horse lifts its head, she straddles the neck!
The trail crossed a river numerous times. At one point a truck came from the opposite direction. Three men got out while a woman waited inside the cab. i had led my horse to the side to feed. But one, then two men approached me, and as the conversation wore on, I got anxious. I should not have let the situation develop. No use hanging around when the men got out of the truck. That was a mistake. But luckily nothing untoward happened.
On top of that incident, I made another mistake. After crossing the river at one point, I led Max a meter or so up the hillside to the trail, but he continued on, although the hillside was very steep and covered with scree. He pushed on and nearly fell backwards, but luckily I was able to bring him back to the trail. That fall would have cost me!
There were few, few gers along the way. After the above incidents I saw none until I spied Bayanzurkh from the hilltop. I chose the ger - actualy a cluster of gers - at which I would stop, to which I had seen a boy dragging firewood behind his horse. A log cabin was situated behind these gers.
Children welcomed me as I rode up. It was a promising scene. I entereed the log cabin and the huge family was intrigued by the fotos of people I showed them, some of whom they knew. But then the room cleared out, after I had only some aaryyl, one cup of milk and one cup of tarak (yoghurt). The mother gave me a bag of aaryyl - a sure sign for me to move on. So i asked for a hotel name in town and they told me.

Ulana and Davaa - Day 8 Solo

Davaa with her horse. Russian saddle has padding.

I chose a good ger today. Two women, one single, no men, two kids. We chat and chat. They show a lot of interest in me and ask questions: Where have you been? Is LA dangerous? Did I fly here? Is it quick?

Today I saw almost no one. A lone rider, but I was not lonesome. It took one hour to traverse one valley, then another hour for the next. Then the road forked. I loooked at th emap and took the road more travelled, and that made all the difference - because I landed here! And, it was the right road to Bayanzurkh. I chose the longer road to Moron.
Ulana says I can ride Max maybe three or four more weeks. The year is growing late. Winter will be here soon. The grass is fading and Max is hungry.

Watering Max

This is Ulana's ger. Davaa is the 21 year old friend who helps out. As I rode up to the ger she stepped outnd waited for me to dismount and tie up Max. Sometimes when people see me approaching their ger, they pay me no heed, as if it were nothing special.

Mongolian etiquette: it is OK to burp but don't blow your nose during a meal. Don't eat lying down. Don't step over food or pots. Don't hold your tea bowl with your index finger inside the rim.

Ulana ys she lives here only one month a year and moves four or five times over the course of a year. She goes by motorbike once a month to Moron to buy provisions. One kg of tea, bought as a cake, lasts one month, from what I gather. Mongol nomads move according to the seasons, always with the top priority being the welfare of the herd.

Ulana tells me that Davaa is now arriving with the yaks. I go out to video, but it is twilight and at ISO 6400, the image will be grainy.

Pass south of Ulaan-uul Day 7 Solo

Mom and Huya have gone to fetch water on the motorcycle. Yesterday I wheeled it inside the ger for them. This morning Huya drove me to their shop, which she runs. I bought water and OJ.

I left Ulaan-uul at 1pm. and arrived at the pass at 4 pm. It rained all the way, but it was not slippery. The pass was rocky. Max did fine, but he is hungry. Yesterday and today he stops suddenly for no reason. He does not pee. He just stops. I whip him and eventually he goes. At first, like our guides, I used the lead rope as a whip, but that is useless. There is no force behind it. But now I use the old leather cinch, and Max responds to that.



Inside the ger



South of the pass the weather was dry and the sun tried to come out. I went for the north cluster of gers, which meant doubling back a bit. I chose this one because I saw a man outside. But I may have chosen the wrong one. It took about an hour until I got the OK to bring my saddle in. And it was raining! The man of the ger napped after looking forever in my phrasebook, without saying anything! Finally, after a couple guests arrived, and they got the conversational ball rolling. It seemed the guest actually brought up the subject of me sleeping here.

Since Renchelkhumbe I have three backpacks. I bought a used one in that town at the guesthouse. Just now I tried to repair the zipper on it, but I only succeeded in making it worse. I will have to close it with safety pins and carry my food in there instead of my camera lenses.

I sure hope the weather is fine tomorrow. What to do if it rains? Do I leave this ger? That would be awful. Riding in the rain sucks. It was a challenge coming over the pass. Not so much because of the height as the lousy wet weather. Got some thumbs-up and nods of approval from passers-by in vehicles. I did not foto at all due to the fact that I had buried my camera deep in my bag.

I saw almost no gers the whole day. After an hour or two I saw a couple, but it was too early to stop, the weather notwithstanding. So on I went. No gers leading up to the pass. The turn off to the western Toom town is but three or four km south of the river. I have to decide which road to take to Moron, the shorter way vehicles drive, or via Toom. But maybe I won't even see the turn off.

The 14 year old girl makes dinner and takes time off to comfort the four month old. Mom and Dad ave disappeared. Beside her sits a one and a half year old.

My clothes, deel, jacket, sweatshirt - all hang from the rafters
in order to dry. Inside a ger it is always warm, the stove always going. The 80 or so wooden poles holding up the roof of the ger provide great clothes-hanging opportunities.

The difference between the way I enter a ger and how locals do it? I knock. I should be in Moron in ten days.

Ulaan-uul Day 7 Solo

Just finished sorting cranberries with two women. I will stay in this ger with one of them. Her husband took off shortly after I arrived at 4:30. I intended to stay next door, at fixed wooden houses, the place the woman back in Renchelkhumbe recommended, but that is all locked up.
still can't figure out the map, which way I came. I stopped at a ger from 12:30 to 2 pm., then walked to the river Baxmax with the woman and kids. We took fotos, before I mounted. She said it would take about two hours to reach Ulaan-uul. I made it in two and a half. I turned up a small incline and then headed south, but I can't find the hill on the map. The wind picked up after crossing the river. It was, however, a beautiful ride. No problems with Max, my horse. He responds better and better. But sometimes in the morning he does not want to walk. I walk Max before mounting to tighten up the cinch.


Pooh-J coming to see me off

You won't believe this! This morning I departed the ger and about 30 minutes later what do I see? A motorcycle is approaching from my left. The two are riding towards me. For a moment this is worrisome. But soon my concern fades. When they arrive I notice that it is Pooh-J coming to see me off. He gets off the motorcycle and gives me a bag of aaryyl and - are you ready for this? - 5,000 tg! (about $5). I decline the offer several times, but finally relented so we both could be on our way. This morning I was losing patience with him and the others as they helped me saddle Max. As I tightened the cinch, they were bridling him, but that frightens him and could be dangerous.

Locals often want to offer a hand in dealing with the tack. I don't know how to interpret this. Are they just being helpful, or do they think I don't know what to do? In any case, it can be a learning experience to let them saddle Max, for example; I may learn a new way of packing the bags or tying knots. On the other hand, if I let them do it, I have to check it to make sure it is safe and sound.

Shöl for dinner. I didn't know it was coming, so beforehand I filled up on bread and jam. When I arrived here I had bread and öröm. That is the local fare. I walked to the forested area looking for water for Max, where the women pointed me. But I found none. Upon returning to the ger, I found it was empty, so I went to the wooden house in the back and found the mother and her sister eating bread and jam. Soon Huya, the daughter, joined us. She must be 17. I sad to her, LA has more people than Mongolia. She gave me her cell phone to type the sentence so she could understand me.

Today is day seven of solo equitrekking. It is fantastic! The people! The landscape! The learning curve with Max! All is wonderful. A few anxious moments of not finding the trail. But there is no reason for that to be, because it is a vehicle road. You can't really miss it!

Pooh-J - Day 6 Solo




Pooh-J, however you might spell his name, has continued his drinking this morning. We had one bottle yesterday evening, with peanuts and raisins. He drank the lion's share - I hardly felt a buzz. Now, after breakfast, he insists on calling me Michael Jackson. I ignore him, while the others laugh it up. It is time to leave. I may be in th evalley to the west on the map. That would explain the mountains on either side of the ger. Yesterday, the old man with the belly scar (with the jolly fat woman) at the branch in the road pointed me along the river. I followed his advice, and then veered to the west. Best to keep the map handy, so as to check the route.

The drunk has said good-bye, but he is finishing his bottle of vodka. Now the tall neighbor has arrived. He is probably 6 foot 2, nearly as tall as the ger.

Army man, where am I? - Day 5 Solo

Mongolian saddle

I stop at one ger in a cluster of three. The man of the family took off for Ulaan-uul. Three hours ride, they say. He works for the army. Before departing, he said something like, You can sleep here tonight, and we will see each other tomorrow in Ulaan-uul. Or maybe that was mostly my imagination. The sleep invitation came late, but the food came quickly. A storm was brewing, which caused me worry about my saddle and bags, but it soon dissipated.
No mother present. After the father departed, the daughter searched and searched in my phrasebook for something. I spoke to her many times, but never did she speak to me. After a long while she found what she was looking for: luggage. Her brother came with me to help with my saddle.

She fed me shöl - the best I have had, with thicker noodles. Then came goat entrails served up, of which I ate only a bit of liver. Plenty of tea and aaryyl. I am beat. Today has been a long day. After the short break at the unfriendly woman's place, I asked directions a bit further on. A fat woman, jolly to perfection, pointed to the horizon. It is hit or miss with each ger you seek out. Roll the dice and see what you get.

I just washed up at the drying up river. One neighbor came to watch, then rode off to the other ger. The cold water felt good on my face.

I try to pinpoint or even guestimate our position on the map. But I can't do it. The topo of the map does not match what I see: mountains to the east and west. But where they tell me we are has only one or two mountains shown on the map. I must have come a different road than I thought.

I cross a small river flowing east to west at 11:30 and then a large river flowing north-south at about noon. That was an anxious moment! I asked a man transporting his ger in a truck if I had to cross to go on to Ulaan-uul. Yes, crossing the river would put me on the trail to that town. I didn't dare video the crossing. Too treacherous. I made it safely, but regret not filming.
On the other side of the river a truck passes me from the other direction transporting many head of reindeer. Maybe to take to the nearby tourist ger camp. Here the road branches. I ask a man with a long belly scar the way. A woman points back across the river! But another go-round of questioning yields a consensus: follow the river. So I do.