Mongolian boy in Terelj Park

One of the best things about doing a Ger to Ger trip in Mongolia is that you get full access to the families and the culture.  You learn, you communicate, your spread knowledge and understanding.  I have another ulterior motive though – staying with families in their gers give you great access for photography.  The families are always eager to show you their lives and share and they do love to have their photos taken.  Whenever I return to Ulaanbaatar after a Ger to Ger trip I always get the family photos reprinted and then take them back to the Ger to Ger office so that they can send them to the families.  Each family I visited has a great photo album of images tourists/guests have sent them.  I’m simply happy to be a part of that process of providing them some memories that they wouldn’t otherwise have.

May latest Ger to Ger trip to Terelj Park in Mongolia yielded these results.  It’s good to know that these same pictures are safely tucked away in a book in their ger which they will show off to other visitors – sort of like the circle of life.

Where do you go to find authentic travel and great photos ops?

To purchase any of these photos, simply click on the image for more information.

Men relax outside their ger

A lone tree in Terelj Park at sunset

Brothers hold tight

Horses tethered in the park

Sewing inside a ger

Ox and tree

Cuddling kitten

Ger in Terelj Park

Making booz

Mongolian Ovoo (sacred place)

A mother teaches me to sew as part of Ger to Ger Experience

The bus bounced along on the road north and for the first time in 5 weeks I just sat back, relaxed and didn’t have to worry about directions, breakdowns, or deal with the nagging internal question of “Will we make it?” The road was bumpy and slow-going, but in Mongolian standards this road was perfection. I was heading on a public bus towards Terelj National Park to experience yet another side of Mongolia; the nomadic lifestyle that is unique to this part of the world.

I had just completed the Mongol Rally, a 5 week road trip from London to Ulaanbaatar Mongolia, and the idea of someone else (aka the bus driver) driving and making decisions was a great relief. We arrived to the finish line of the rally earlier than expected and we had time to kill in Ulaanbaatar before our flights. My other teammates decided to chill out in Ulaanbaatar, but I decided to revisit and relive one of the best travel experiences I had ever experienced; a Ger to Ger adventure in Mongolia.

I convinced another Mongol Rally friend to join me on this cultural journey, John, a young traveler from Ireland. Together we found the correct public bus according to the instructions in our Ger to Ger handbook and we were heading north with other Mongolians and a small handful of tourists.

The barren landscape around Ulaanbaatar gave way to evergreen patches and rolling hills every mile north we traveled. After two hours, the bus stopped at a small looking village in the park. We departed the bus with our backpacks and immediately saw our ride – an ox and rickety cart. A local man smiled at us and said “Ger to Ger?”, we nodded and he took our bags flipping them onto the flat bed cart. We hopped up on the cart and away we went.

We had no real idea of where we were going, but we happily sat on the cart and took in our surroundings. Shortly we were at a strong river and the ox kept powering through as the water rose nearly over the top of our cart. John and I looked at each other slightly nervous, but the ox stayed his course determined to get us to our first ger stop.

We arrived at Mrs. Umaa’s ger where we were immediately invited in and served fried bread stuffed with mutton and onions. Mrs Umaa’s was still frying up batches of the bread as we sat and had our milk tea and surveyed our surroundings. The gers have such a simple, yet functional design. Two poles in the middle with a stove in between are the foundation with spokes jutting out from the center providing it’s stability. Felt surrounds the circular wood lattice wall keeping things toasty warm for the harsh winters.

John and I on our small Mongolian horses

John and I had familiarized ourselves with the Ger to Ger cultural handbook on the bus ride to Terelj. I was reminded once again about the importance of entering a ger, the respect of age and gender, and the life saving phrase in Mongolian, “Hold your dog!” After our quick, hot lunch Mr. Umaa saddled up two horses and was ready to take us to our next family 18 km away. I took a look at the horse and realized he didn’t look too intimidating thanks to his small Mongolian size, but I knew better than that.

Eighteen kilometers was excruciating to my bum and my legs, but we just kept on trotting along as John and I hoped each ger in the distance was the one we were supposed to stop at for the night. We finally came down a little clearing and saw a ger with puffs of smoke marking its territory and Mr. Umaa pointed to the ger. Hallelujah – we made it!

We arrived at Ms. Amarjargal’s family ger where we immediately bonded with the kids, a boy around 4 years old, and other cousins running around; some younger and some older. Before the sun went down we decided to take the young boy with us on a walk to an ovoo off in the distance. The boy wasn’t intimidated by strangers taking him away from his mother . He had long flowing hair which is similar for many Mongolian boys his age; in Mongolia it’s customary to only cut hair when children reach certain ages.

John carrying our new hiking friend to the ovoo

That night we ate a feast and then listened to the family call their oldest daughter who was 11 at a school in Ulaanbaatar. It’s customary for kids to be sent off to school at a very young age since there are not good schools in the area for children to attend. John and I sat and watched the touching moment between the family as they all tried to talk at once on their cell phone with spotty coverage.

They had an extra ger so they insisted that we stay inside their extra ger instead of unpacking our tent – they didn’t have to work too hard to convince me of that as the temperature was quickly dropping.

Breakfast of champions - fresh cream

The next morning we woke up to a deliciously sinful breakfast of fresh cream and bread. The food in Mongolia is nothing to write home about, however they do dairy the full fat way – nothing but the real stuff. Butter, cream, yogurt; I love learning what these products are really supposed to taste like! We drank tea and ate our bread with cream warming up around the ger stove. I watched as the father dressed his young son in a traditional Mongolian coat and sash and then they played around practicing a little fun wrestling, the traditional sport of Mongolia. It was easy to see how the cultural customs are carried forth from generation to generation.

Father and son practice wrestling moves

Part of the Ger to Ger mission is to teach visitors about the customs and culture of Mongolian families. The mother took John and I to the other ger and gave us a sewing lesson. She taught us how to make an intricate Mongolian pattern and silk phone holder. John and I weren’t the most talented students , but we loved how patient she was with us simply showing us what to do without really being able to communicate with us well. We used an ancient peddle sewing machine that I never really got the hang of, but at least I didn’t sew my finger!

Mongolian pattern

John getting his sewing lesson!

We spent the rest of the day playing with the kids who had an endless amount of energy for us. The mother next prepared the ox and cart and took us to our next family ger. Once again I’m amazed at how hearty and talented the Mongolian women are, they remind me of my grandmothers on the farms in Nebraska; they do everything – true working women.

John and I with our 'fans'

We sadly bid the children goodbye and bounced along on our ox cart to Mr. Bold’s family ger. According to our Ger to Ger handbook, we learned that Mr. Bold trains horses and has the prestigious title of ‘Lion’ from the Regional Naadam Festival where he used to compete. He became the Great Horse Trainer of Nalaih District. By the size of Mr Bold I would have though he was a wrestler; he was the definition of foreboding. It took a long time (and a little vodka) to see him smile, but when he did he looked much less intimidating! Ms. Battseseg, his wife, was also a professional herder and sews for many people around the area.

They welcomed us into their home with milk tea and bread. It wasn’t long before John and I were out with the family rounding up the cows so that the they could be milked. Our job was to find all of the calves and put them into a specific little square fence. John and I were feeling pretty rugged and were actually successful at this task! However milking the cows proved a bit more challenging!

Milking a cow...sure, it looks easy...

The next day we spent our day learning archery (which proved really challenging!), gathering up horses, and I even was allowed to help Ms. Battseseg make booz (Mongolian dumplings). She showed me how to fill the dough with the mutton mixture and pinch it together in a pretty looking dumpling. However it didn’t take long until I was demoted to simply rolling dough!

Our short stay was over and Mr. Bold loaded us onto the ox cart and we took the 15 km ride back to the bus stop to be picked up that night on the local bus. We were secured and toasty under blankets as we bumped along in the ox cart with our backpacks for pillows.

My archery form isn't too bad. My aim is horrible!

Our ox cart awaits. Mr. Bold and Mrs. Batsetseg say goodbye...

As I sat on the bus with John sharing a bottle of vodka I thought about this wonderfully rich culture and the fact that Ger go Ger really brings you an authentic experience that I’ve never been able to find in other places. Sure – this type of travel/experience is not for everyone. It’s rough, not at all luxury, and basic; but it’s real.

The Good:

This is the real deal, staying with Mongolian families on their terms. If you are someone who is looking for authentic experiences, then this is a ‘must-do’ if you are in Mongolia. Other great things about it:
• A large portion of the money goes back to the families you stay with
• Get a useful handbook and training on cultural etiquette before you go.
• You take local transportation which provides richer cultural experiences and exposure
• Provides a great opportunity for photography!
• Get to stay in a real ger – not a ger camp.

The Could be Better (or be prepared for these hardships):

• There is no bathroom facilities besides a hole in the ground with a few boards surrounding it for privacy
• No running water
• The food is very basic
• Have your own tent else you will have to rent one and it’s rather expensive
• The horse saddles are severely uncomfortable
• It’s not well planned and doesn’t really stick to the itinerary in the book. However if you keep an open mind, be patient, and know that you will get to accomplish a lot of great things that may not be in the published itinerary.

Would I recommend it?

Yes, absolutely yes! This was my third trip with Ger to Ger, and I’ve loved each one.
I found it to be really rewarding. However it is more independent travel than organized tour. You have to go into it knowing you will rough it and things won’t go as planned all the time. Be open and the experience can be amazing. I can’t wait to take another; however the next one I have told myself would be in the dead of winter so that I can experience the winter culture which I expect to be very different from the summer!

More information:
Ger to Ger Website:  www.gertoger.org

Photos from our Terelj Park Experience:

Sprawling Ulaanbaatar

I instinctively made it to the office building; it had been two years since I was there and even though the buildings around it had changed, the Ger to Ger office building stood out to me teasing my memory and providing me flashes of deja vu. I remembered the stairs, the odd sculpture outside the building, and as I walked through the lobby the sensation of something familiar in this foreign country enveloped me. I walked into the Ger to Ger office and noted that it hadn’t changed a bit. I started browsing through brochures on the wall when a familiar looking woman greeted me and asked if she could help me. I told her I was interested in a short trip to Terelj Park. As I was saying this a flash of discovery came across her face, she wrinkled her brow and said in a part statement, part questioning tone, “I know you – you traveled with us before?”

I was astonished that she would remember me after 2 years, but she did. As we embraced and chatted about what I had been doing for the past two years, Zanjan – the stunning looking manager of Ger to Ger, amazed me by recalling my past details of living in Vietnam, teaching, and being a travel writer.

It was a strange feeling to be back in a city that I had been to before; I seldom revisit places I travel to simply because the world is big and there are so many new things to see. However after seeing Zanjan again it reminded me how comforting it is to be recognized and have a familiar conversation in my constant motion I call “my life”.

I was last in Ulaanbaatar in the summer of 2009, and it has always been one of my least favorite cities in the world. Strangely, the country of Mongolia is one of my favorite countries in the world and it continues to pull me back to its different and simple culture and landscape. However if you are going to travel in Mongolia, you really can’t avoid Ulaanbaatar; it’s a necessary evil.

In many ways Ulaanbaatar was as I remember it; chaotic, difficult to navigate, dangerous (in petty crime ways), and not a place where I enjoy being a solo traveler. As I walked around the tourist area of the city, I was constantly reminded by locals to be careful, don’t walk alone at night, and don’t take out a flashy camera. I also heard tales told of other tourists being mugged, pick pocketed, and simply followed. I remember the familiar feeling of constantly being on edge in Ulaanbaatar.

However in many ways Ulaanbaatar was nothing as I remember it. Buildings sprung up like fresh green stalks in the soil reaching for the sun in the spring time; they were everywhere. I was staying in one of those shiny, new buildings built for the Mongolian and expat elite. Our Mongol Rally sponsor,  Roomorama,  had provided an apartment for our team’s time in Ulaanbaatar. It was a far cry from my previous hostel diggs on my first trip to Mongolia. The apartment was full of the latest amenities and comforts in a city that is anything but comfortable.

Roomorama apartment rental - luxury highrise life

My lodging 2 years prior

Big malls had been built in 2 short years, and it felt as if the population had doubled. High fashion and luxury goods appeared in shiny store windows of new buildings. The streets were at a complete gridlock of a mish-mash of cars from foreign origins. Luxury housing glistened and beckoned those with any bit of money, yet the destitute seemed as worse off as ever. There were more homeless and kids on the street than I recall seeing two years prior.

Basically, it was turning into another overcrowded, poorly planned Asian city.

The city had grown at rapid rates since I was last there. It had a population of 949,000 in 2009 and now in 2011 it has risen to 1.17 million. There is an approximate increase of 35,000 vehicles added to the vehicle pool each year in Ulaanbaatar. The city is complete gridlock and polluted and I have a hard time understanding why people would want more cars when the average speed is slower than a person can walk during rush hour.

Old buses can barely move in the conjested city

Roads were in sorry shape and overcrowded

There is little urban planning as the city population grows, infrastructure loses the battle to ‘Demand and Desire’ and the whole place appears chaotic. Quality loses out to speed in construction and planning. As I walked around the familiar streets of Ulaanbaatar for days I had the overwhelming feeling of sadness for it. Like you were watching a person gain weight with no idea how they were ever going to get their weight gain under control thanks to a lack of willpower.

It was that sadness and frustration I felt for Ulaanbaatar that ultimately led me to the Ger to Ger office once again. I needed to get out of the overcrowded, dangerous feeling city and instead experience the Mongolia I love. Even though I had just driven through the entire area of Western Mongolia independently with my Mongol Rally team, after just 6 days in Ulaanbaatar I was frustrated and overwhelmed with it. I wanted to breath in the fresh air, see the wide open spaces, peer out into vast nothingness, see the simplicity of herding and nomadic ger life.

My Ger to Ger experience in 2009 was, and still remains, a highlight of all of my travels I’ve done around the world. It was the most immersive, educational, cultural exchange that I had ever experienced. I was excited at the thought of seeing how Ger to Ger had grown in the last two years; but as I peered around the office and talked with Zanjan, it seemed as if nothing had changed. They were still running unique cultural tours in the remote areas of Mongolia. They were still improving the lives of the locals involved in their cultural exchanges, and they still used the exact same cultural handbook.

It was good to see that some things hadn’t changed in Ulaanbaatar.

Big Business is moving in...

A big welcome at teh Blue Skies Ger Village

As much as participating in the Mongol Rally was to satiate my need for adventure and something different – it had another purpose…a big purpose.

It was for this….

 For Them…

These are some of the children who live at the Christina Nobel Foundation Blue Skies Ger Village in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. It serves as a sanctuary for homeless and abandoned children in Mongolia. It has been developed to address the specific needs of the many children who find themselves in these difficult circumstances in Mongolia.

After arriving at the finish line our first goal was to take a much needed shower and have loads of vodka to celebrate our accomplishment. But the day after our rally partying and subsequent headaches we scheduled a visit to the Ger village so we could go see the village and kids we actually drove 8,500 miles for. The village was located outside of Ulaanbaatar. As we drove out of the main part of town the traffic became less, the surroundings started to deteriorate, and the roads slowly turned to dirt which left us dodging potholes again. After 25 minutes we came to a brightly colored wall and inside were approximately a dozen gers and about 70 children and mothers. The children range in age from 2 to 24 years old. Each residential ger is staffed by a Ger Mother, often a single parent and/or formerly homeless herself, who creates a loving home for the children.

We were given a tour of the facilities with shy children peaking out of their gers and taking notice of the group of ralliers. The more we walked around the shyness melted away and soon they were following us around urging us to play basketball, Frisbee, and take pictures.

Kids work and play in the computer lab/ger

Kids get plenty of exercise at the village

They have a basketball/volleyball court that turns into an ice skating rink in the winter

The youngest kid at the village - this little boy is 2

We spent about 2 hours at the ger village hanging out with the kids. Some ralliers played soccer and basketball with the kids, but I wandered into a few gers to meet the mothers and see how the ‘families’ lived. We could barely communicate but I sat and watched them make booz (Mongolian dumplings) as the kids tried to tell me their ages and show me their homework.

Later that night the Adventurists held a large finish line party for all of the teams who had finished that week. Sure – it was a huge boozefest (not the dumpling…the alcohol!) as teams celebrated their finish or their demise. We were able to connect with so many of the teams who we had met along the way and hear the rest of their practically unbelievable stories. The mood was joyous, loud, and had a feeling of relief and at the same time sorrow that it was all over.

A celebration full of smoke and booze!

In addition to giving out goofy awards to teams,and vodka shots, there were also special performances by the children of the Ger village. The kids came to perform various skills; kids sang, played instruments, danced, and even put on a judo performance. The ralliers treated them like the rockstars they were. Big smiles crept across their face as people gave them standing ovations, whistles and hollers. This was such a rewarding way to end the long journey; everyone happy, feeling accomplished and connecting.

Girls from the village get ready to perform

Girls dressed in authentic Mongolian dress

Judo demonstration

In the end our team raised $5,000 for the Christina Nobel Ger village in donations from people like you – our readers. Thank you for making that happen.

In addition, our little car that rolled into Ulaanbaatar with 8,500 more miles on it, 2 bald rear tires, an exhaust system hanging on by a wire, a broken front shock, no oil changed in 9000 miles, stickers all over the car, duct tape holding together parts of the inside, and covered in dust was in huge demand. We were told that it would auction for about $4000 to $4500 and after taxes are paid, that money also goes back to Mongolian charities.

And here’s the most impressive thing that makes my stomach flutter when I think about it.

The 320 teams who made up the 2011 Mongol Rally overall raised $500,000 through donations and car auction for the Christina Nobel Foundation.

This is a huge sum of money for the program, and I’m so proud to be a part of it. I’m even more proud that you, my readers, were also a part of it. This adventure was the perfect win/win for me. I was able to do what I LOVE – travel through the world on an amazing adventure, and help kids in need in a seldom seen part of the world. I hopefully made the country of Mongolia part of your vocabulary by now. It’s one of my favorite places in the world, and it will always have my heart and a small part of me at the Blue Skies Ger Village.

Was it worth it?

Every. Single. Second.

‘When children are educated, they possess something which cannot be lost or taken away from them and which offers them some protection from exploitation and abuse. They will have more power in the labour market; they will be better equipped to provide for themselves in a way which protects their integrity and their dignity” – Christina Noble

The beginning...

The most frequent question I get asked is “How did you get along with your teammates?”…which I will answer in a later blog post…have patience! But the 2nd question is always, “What did you do with the car?”

That is the beauty of the Mongol Rally – the car is used to raise more money for Mongolian charities. The cars which make it to the end get auctioned off to locals and the money is collected by Adventures For Development Mongolia (the NGO that was responsible for the car imports).  At the end of the summer, once all the vehicles in all the drop-off points have been accounted for, the profit after costs will be tallied up and announced for tender. Applications are received by AFDM from charitable projects based in Mongolia for AFDM’s steering committee to decide who’s supported.  In the past charitable projects as diverse as tree replanting, disabled persons projects and Mongolia Education Alliance have all been supported by the moneys raised by the car sales. This is important, because it means that the Mongol Rally reaches other needy projects in Mongolia.

The fact that you are attempting to ‘deliver’ this car over the course of 5+ weeks is really one of the main things that kept us going. It gave us purpose, drive, and the push we needed at times to keep going. We had a responsibility to get the car to the end – no matter how much we wanted to give up or be done, we were like the Pony Express…

“Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.”

Yet I think our modern day motto would have been more like,

“Neither broken shocks, nor dirt, nor flat tires, nor being hopelessly lost, nor giant potholes, nor corrupt border guards, nor team fights stays these ralliers from the somewhat swift completion of their appointed round.”

We had a mission, we had to deliver that car…it was our fuel that kept us going through the many trying times.

The car at the beginning in London...shiny and lookin' good!

You may wonder why anyone in their right mind would want a beat up, dirty car that had just been driven into the ground for 9,000+ miles. In reality we shouldn’t be able to give a car like that away even for free! But Mongolia was different. Cars, no matter what condition they were in, are in demand.

In fact, we surprisingly learned that small cars, like ours, were in the greatest demand. Cars that aren’t really meant for the Mongolian terrain are the most sought after…but why?

It’s basic supply and demand. (Imagine me with my hair up, glasses on, and standing in front of a white board drawing diagrams – class is in session!)

Supply – Import taxes for used cars are quite expensive in Mongolia therefore no one is shipping many cars into Mongolia as its too price prohibitive. The main people who are importing cars are people who can afford it – big mining and development companies as well as tour companies. This means there’s really only one type of car being imported – big SUV’s to be used as commercial vehicles. There are very few small, family cars available to Mongolians.

Demand – The Mongolian economy is growing fast, in fact the World Bank reports have announced Mongolia as one of the fastest growing and most stable economies in current turbulent times. Families are making more money, and they want to consume. The country is also building more roads (albeit super slowly and poor quality), the country is becoming more mobile and they want to trade in their horses for fuel-injected horsepower.

Enter us and our little Nissan Almera; everyone wants the Hot Box! People would constantly stop us and ask to buy our car from the moment we entered Western Mongolia to the finish line in Ulaanbaatar. Granted – people don’t necessarily want it to drive across the country like we did, they simply want a car to get around the city of Ulaanbaatar which is growing rapidly.

Our car was a 2002 with 121,000 miles on it when we bought it. Allways Rentals purchased it for us for approximately $1500 and put in more money to get it mechanically checked out.

Our car went through a beating…

Maintenance in the middle of Kazakhstan

Going for a dip in Mongolia...

Getting dirty in Kazakhstan

Held together by duct tape

We deposited it with the Mongol Rally organizers with 8,500 more miles on it, bald tires, an exhaust hanging on by a wire, a broken shock, coated in dirt and stickers, and terribly in need of an oil change. Yet our little car was a car in demand. The Adventurists told us that it would probably yield $4,000 to $4,500 when auctioned.

All in all – the rally is bringing in cars that are in demand…when they actually make it. It appears to be a win/win for everyone.

In the end it was hard to walk away from the car. I grew attached to the Hot Box, it became a part of us; our home, our bed, our kitchen, and our living room. I only wish that I could see who ended up buying our little Hot Box. I hope they loved it as much as we did. I’m sure they’ll keep it running way longer than we ever could have!

The end...a bit more wear and tear - but people still want her!!

I finished the rally – listen to my post race podcast from Heather on Her Travels - Mongol Rally Podcast and get the low down on how it all went from my lips to your ears!

What is a ger?

What’s a ger?  I get asked this question often.  Here’s your answer in pictures!

A Mongolian ger is the same as a Russian yurt.

Mongolian families live in these nomadic tents across Mongolia

The gers are always white and made of felt and cloth

There is one door and no windows. Doors normally are intricately painted in orange or blue

Often families will set up their gers close together and a family will all live within a few km of each other

Each ger has a stove in the middle wth a 'chimney' poking out of the top

The whole family live/sleeps/eats inside the tent with no privacy

Two or three times a year the family takes down the ger, places everything they own on a truck and move about 5 to 13 km and sets up the tent again.

And that, my dear readers,  is what a ger is all about!

Would you like to stay in a ger someday?

Our last day on the Mongol Rally...something to jump about!

It’s hard to put into words what those last 20km were like as we drove into Ulaanbaatar. All I can say is that is wasn’t easy. It was actually some of the worst roads and construction we had experienced. There was no real time to relax and soak up the moment, as we had to be on the ball as we tried to navigate the crowded streets of Ulaanbaatar to the finish line.  Here’s our arrival in Ulaanbaatar in pictures:

It's all downhill from here!

Welcome!

We took the industrial route into the city...aka...we were lost.

Dirty traffic...neverending

An electronic traffic sign...we had no idea what the message was!

It's in our sights!

We made it…we really made it.

9,000 Miles, 2 continents, 13 countries, 5 weeks, 3 flat tires, 1 broken shock, countless beers, many new friends, and $5,000 for the Christina Nobel Foundation.

We have arrived!

Team Social Media Syndicate finishes!!

It feels great to be done!

If these posts about the Mongol Rally have at all intrigued you and you have thought, “I think I would like to do that” – then I have an opportunity for you.  One of my good friends, Charlie Grosso did something completely impulsive after following my team’s progress on the rally – she signed up for 2012.  She has no plan, no teammates, and no idea about cars…which is perfect if you ask me.  If you think you have the guts to try something crazy next summer – she’s looking for teammates so be sure to contact her at CharlieGrosso@gmail.com or you can find her at @charliegrosso on twitter.  She’s fearless…she’ll rock the Mongol Rally 2012 – come one…I know you want to join her.

I finished the rally – listen to my post race podcast from Heather on Her Travels - Mongol Rally Podcast and get the low down on how it all went from my lips to your ears!

The green grasslands of the steppe

I woke up giddy, excited, anxious, and a bit sad. This was it – our last day of the Mongol Rally.

It started exactly 5 weeks earlier on a Saturday in London. Now here we were 300 km from Ulaanbaatar Mongolia’s finish line.

The day started like any other; local visitors bringing gifts of food and airag. We packed up the tents one last time and headed east on our lovely tarmac road.

Lest you think that tarmac in Mongolia is easy…it’s not. Sure, it’s better than what we were on for the last 1400km, but it is rife with issues. It’s crumbling under trucks that are too heavy, poor construction, and harsh climates. It would be perfect for about 5 km and then boom…it was full of pot holes. This was often more dangerous than the previous roads as our speed was much greater on tarmac. So swerving and screeching to a halt was much more difficult!

The anticipation was killing me. I sat in the back seat thinking how this was just like running in the 25th mile of a marathon. You were exhausted, but the excitement of finally achieving something that you had worked so hard and long for was an overwhelming emotion.

However I had to remind myself that as much as I wanted to get there, there was still a lot to see and experience. This part of Mongolia was the steppe, or grassland, and it was full of new scenery; rivers and lakes, meadows, rolling green hills, and even a section of sand dunes.

Mongolian reflections

A picture perfect ger scene in the steppe

I felt as if this was the most populated area of herders that we had seen so far. Livestock surrounded us. A horse ran across the road and we noticed a ger family trying to contain their horses, so we stopped to watch. We watched in confusion as 4 different men ran around trying to get the horses all in one area and one man on a motorcycle ran after a particularly obstinate brown and white horse. All of the little ponies were already tied up near the ger and the horses kept running around in pandemonium.

Another car was pulled up along the side of the road also watching the herding spectacle. It was as fascinating as any television show. We watched as they finally caught/lassoed the brown and white horse and then proceeded to put a saddle on it. I thought to myself – there’s no way in hell I’d want to get up on that horse – he clearly had the most spunk out of all of them who had now dispersed around the ger.

However it all became clear shortly. As the young boy on the motorcycle got on the brown and white horse and trotted off, he quickly rounded up the other horses and they obeyed effortlessly. Clearly the brown and white horse was the leader of the pack, and once tamed they all followed suit.

Motorcycle Herder

The horses were all brought back towards the ponies for milking. We also watched as the mother milked mares in order to make airag. I had always wondered how they milk horses in Mongolia – and now I was able to witness the whole process!

Milking a horse takes a lot of work! And two people!

We got back on the road after our horse diversion and slowly moved closer and closer to Ulaanbaatar. More trucks and buildings appeared slowly and then more frequently. We were close, I could feel it.

Then we came around a corner and I got the first glimpse of Ulaanbaatar in the distance. Relief and happiness flowed over me. I felt giddy. We had really made it.

Ulaanbaatar in the distance...almost there!

Mongolian skies are like no other

I believe that there is something very special about the Mongolian skies. Out of all of the countries I’ve been to, the skies in Mongolia are the most memorable. They are vast. They are the most perfect color blue. Even when they get angry and dark, they are perfection. They make me feel small.

And the clouds…well, I could stare at them all day.

The clouds hang from the sky as if they are on strings like a mobile above a baby crib hanging from the heavens. They have such depth and dimension you feel like you can reach out and touch them. In fact, these Mongolian cloudscapes feel beyond three dimensions, they feel like they have an added element of space-time to them.

As I drive through Mongolia and look out my window it feels like therapy. Some people go to ashrams in India, some people climb mountains in Nepal, and some people go sailing across oceans to find their Zen and peace; but for me my Zen is Mongolia. All I have to do it look at the landscapes, the gers, the wild horses, and the skies and I’m there – peace.

Perfect

Oh tarmac...how I love thee...

“What’s that smell?” asked Deb.
“I don’t know, but I smell it too.” said Dave.
“I don’t smell a thing.” I said from the back seat.

We stopped to investigate under the car and the hood. We had already had a tire repaired again today in a little ger truck stop…but now we had only driven about 20km further and we were perplexed by the odd odor coming from our car.

We looked under the car and saw a dark fluid running down the inside of the tire well on one side…ah…we definitely have a problem. Like first year med students we started to try to diagnose the issue. Our first thought was brake fluid was leaking and that we had hose had pulled off or had ruptured.

Dave took off the wheel yet again and ruled the brake diagnosis out.

Dave diagnosing the patient

Next we thought it might be power steering fluid leaking as we had started to hear a squeak when we turned the wheel starting a few days ago. We investigated from the top and bottom but determine that the power steering fluid seemed fine.

Dave then said…I think it’s our shock.

We never really could tell, but we were 90% sure that our front shock had ruptured and the fluid we saw was the hydraulic fluid leaking out.

None of us knew much about cars, but we knew this:

The engine still ran great.
There were no warning lights coming on.
We had been driving on this for a while.
About every other team we met had broken shocks or springs.

From all of this…we deducted that we could go on, albeit at a slower more careful pace, to the next town and have it looked at there. We all felt quite confident about the diagnosis so we continued to move towards Arvaikheer – the last town before Ulaanbaatar.

Unfortunately, this was some of the worst road of the rally when it came to bumps, dips, ruts, rocks, and holes. But Deb babied the car perfectly through the landmines and the car bounced and creaked more than normal, but it was making it. That was all that mattered!

We had heard a rumor that all of us wanted to believe, but were careful not to get our hopes too high. The rumor was that just outside of Arvaikheer tarmac appeared and continued the remaining 431km to Ulaanbaatar.

It felt like the day lasted forever at our slow pace and anticipation of tarmac. We met some other teams along the way also inching along on the horrible roads. They too had heard the rumor…so we got even more excited.

I was surprised to meet an all female team that day, Dotty and the Dice. I loved hearing their stories of how two women who knew nothing about cars had made it this far. My heros!

Girl Power!!!

We followed them into Arvaikheer on beautiful new, dark, flat tarmac the last 15 km. Joy!

We stopped at the Mongol Rally mechanic to enquire about our busted shock. However since we had made it this far already – we were feeling a bit skeptical about fixing it. We certainly didn’t want to spend a bunch of money to fix it the last day. But like any mechanic around the world the guy of course could not guarantee that the spring would hold and if it broke, that might be dangerous. The price of a new shock was $80 – which seemed to be quite expensive for Mongolia considering we had flat tires fixed for $4. Dilemma.

We did what any mechanically lost team would do; we called Deb’s dad and asked his opinion! He was a bit surprised to be getting a call from Mongolia, but was excited to help us in our mechanical dilemma. His diagnosis was that we could drive on the broken shock and simply continue to be careful to not break the spring and we should be fine.

Plus, we had confirmed that the rest of the way was indeed tarmac all the way into Ulaanbaator – so we felt that if we had made it all day on horrible roads so far, we should be able to make it into UB.

Point us towards Ulaanbaatar!!

The excitement was building inside the car as we took off and drove every kilometer closer. Yet we knew that we wouldn’t make it the whole 430km before the sun went down, so we drove as far as we could and camped one last time with visions of the finish line in our head!

A little splash of color this morning...

The first thing we did when we woke up was check the rear tire to see if it still had air. We already had one flat from the day before and had to put on our spare which had a slow leak in it – but it seemed to hold ok overnight…whew. We had 100km until we arrived in Bayankhongor where we could get both tires fixed.

The morning drive was beautiful with bright blue skies overhead and decent roads. We followed the power lines into Byankhongor as we had learned by now that power lines were an indication that a town was in their path. Since there were only a few towns that had power lines, then we deducted that it must be the town we were going to.  Brilliant!

We ran into another team just in time as our rear tire was starting to lose more air and this well-equipped team actually had a little portable compressor (note to self…need one of these next time!) that they let us use.

We were also able to witness a miracle. The team was with another team from the Netherlands who had rolled their car 3 times and survived. Apparently the team had rolled the car while being distracted in a water fight (note to self…don’t ever drive with the Dutch) and lost control of the car just outside of the Mongolian border in Russia. It was a miracle none of them were hurt – especially after I saw this car. The roof had been completely collapsed but with the help of some other teams they pounded it back up, purchased chicken wire for the windscreen and hood and were able to still import it into the country and drive it. Granted, with no windscreen any longer the drivers had to wear goggles and masks to try to deal with the massive amounts of dust on the Mongolian roads.

Can't believe it even runs...

The Dutch's new driving attire

We followed all of these teams into Bayankhongor and quickly found a tire repair place. We had both tires fixed lightening fast for a total of $4…a bargain. While we were there at least 6 other vehicles pulled up to have tires repaired too – Mongolian roads eat tires for dessert.

We needed more camping supplies so we stopped at a building called the PC Mall. It was full of little food and clothing stalls, but the best thing we discovered was tha the ‘mall’ had free wifi! We went back out to the car and got our laptops and promptly sat on the floor and took advantage of a commodity more rare than tarmac in Mongolia – internet.

I was quite the spectacle in the mall with my macbook....attracted a crowd!

Unfortunately this is when I learned that my website had been infected with malware. Shit. I had a message from Candice of SMAC who had been maintaining my website while I was offline saying that the site was infected and unusable. I’m not a techie person anyway – but trying to troubleshoot anything in the middle of Mongolia while sitting on the floor of a mall surrounded by a crowd was going to be impossible. So I called upon my IT expert – Warren Talbot from MWL Development – a fellow eternal traveler, career breaker, and blogger. He was on the issues right away and worked with Candice and Cailin to get everything resolved while I kept driving towards Arvaikher.

If you are going to do a trip like this as a blogger – then having a great ‘team on the ground’ is necessary and I thank my lucky stars for Warren and the ladies of SMAC.

I took off driving out of Arvaikher as we had decided that we would try to get as far as we could before the sun went down. Arvaikher would be our last major town and drop off point before Ulaanbaatar; the finish was near…we could all feel it.

We bumped around on the horrible roads outside of Byankhongor through the mountains and found a great little camping space glowing in the setting sun and dotted with purple wild flowers. Perfect. However when we got out, we realized that I had gotten yet another flat tire. Ugh. I am bad luck for tires.

Our golden camp site

However as a well oiled team after 5 weeks of traveling together we all knew our jobs well. As Deb and I set up camp and got the water boiling Dave once again changed the tire; a process he was becoming all too familiar with.

That night we had a visit by a local couple on a motorcycle who came to watch us eat our pasta and simply sit and smile at us. We finished off with a night cap of vodka and peering once again at the spectacular Milky Way. I was dreaming of what it would feel like to finish this adventure…it was so near now.

You can see for miles in the Gobi Desert

We slowly moved deeper into Mongolia where the foreign landscapes, people, and towns started to become normal to me. We were moving from western Mongolia into Central Mongolia and the Gobi Desert; from Altai to Bayankhongor.

The landscapes changed dramatically as we left the Altai mountains and hills behind and had nothing but perfectly flat landscape in front of us now. The gers became less and the amount of people and trucks that we encountered were dwindling. This posed a bit of a problem since we relied on those people and truckers to ask directions normally!

We did run into a few teams when in Altai but as soon as we left the city we were pretty much on our own. We would take every opportunity to stop in the little villages and ger truck stops to ask for directions and to normally fix flat tires. The little towns were bustling in Mongolian standards; motorcycles parked on the main streets, mini markets, super markets, and markets all stood side by side. It was also a great opportunity to fill up on water and beer; after all, we were heading into the desert!

The bustling 'main street' in Dariv Mongolia

The Gobi plays tricks on you. The perfectly flat landscape provided illusions of water, cars, and camels that were never really there. It felt like you could see forever – yet you had no real way to judge distance. As we tried to find our way onto the ‘main road’ that we had seemingly wandered off of we would see little puffs of dust on the horizon and try to gauge where they were and what direction they were going – but it was a puzzle.

We’d see what we thought was a car or motorcycle in the distance, but as we drove closer, it would turn out to be a tire. You actually felt as if you were losing your mind unable to trust your eyes any longer. But we just kept heading East with our compass and hoped that we would end up in some form of civilization.

Camels are our only entertainment in the Gobi

After driving all afternoon and seeing nothing but camels and tires, we finally came across a little ger camp. The camp appeared to be a little rest stop for truckers, buses, and miners. We were excited to see civilization again and get some assurance that we were going the right direction! However our excitement quickly faded when we pulled up to a big winding river.

We asked a couple of kids on a motorcycle if we were headed in the right direction and they motioned to follow them. We initially thought that they were headed to the Bayankhongor too, so we followed them. Instead they pulled up to the river and started to motion to follow them. We clearly weren’t getting to Bayankhongor without crossing this river. And this was an actual river, it was the deepest yet.

Before we could even really think about it we decided to follow them. We tried to ask them if we’d make it in our car, but as we looked at them on their motorcycle, we determined if they could make it then we ‘should’ be able to make it too. Before we knew it we were following them into the water which was splashing up on our hood.

However this wasn’t an obvious river crossing of point A to point B. This was a complex geometry problem. These boys clearly knew that going directly across wasn’t viable, that we had to snake through the river in the shallowest parts in order to make it to the other side. As a passenger it was nerve-wracking and exciting at the same time. Dave kept it in 1st gear and his foot on the gas constantly and we all cheered for our bald tires to somehow grip the slippery rocks and keep moving forward.

The motorcycle would pull up onto a little island and then take off again in a illogical direction downriver. The motorcycle actually lost its traction once and nearly went down, but somehow the nimble boys kept it upright. We continued to snake through tributaries of the river wondering if it would ever stop. In one particularly deep section water came in the floorboards of the front passenger seat where I was sitting.

Video from Dave and Deb’s YouTube channel – check out all of their great videos!

But the little Hot Box made it. We paid the boys $5 for their help and were all on an adrenaline high that we made it through with little damage except for a wet floorboard. We later learned that many of the teams were towed through that river crossing. However I think the fact that we didn’t have much time to think about it or debate was actually in our favor. We simply put our trust in the locals and followed the un-obvious path diligently.

Now we were certain we were going in the right direction to Byankhongor but the sun was quickly going down so we picked a nice flat spot in the Gobi to camp for the night. We had picked up some Chengis Khan vodka in one of the little villages that morning, so we all celebrated our day’s Gobi adventures.

Our Gobi Desert camp site

As the sun went down and the stars started to appear, we were treated to one of the greatest sites yet in Mongolia – the Milky Way. We stayed up late, sitting on our camp stools mesmerized by the billions of stars and the crystal clear line of the Milky Way. Shooting stars graced us and we all thanked our lucky stars that we (and our car) had made it this far.

The locals and Dave try their best to help out...even the kids!

Mongolia is flat…and so are our tires.  A little photo essay on our tire changes…and there were many.  The roads in Mongolia are brutal on tires…especially when you start out with rear ones that are bald already!  I seemed to be bad luck on the tires as we only got flats when I was driving.  Coincidence?  Thanks to Dave who did all of our tire changing!

Our first flat...first of many...

The culprit...Mongolian 'roads'

Dave and Deb perform tire surgery

Getting some air from local truckers to get us to the next town!

Utilizing the spare...that happens to have a slow leak!

Tire repair in a Bayankhongor in Mongolia. 2 tires repaired for $4...not too bad!

Visiting another tire repair place at a small ger truckstop before Arvaikheer

It's like your own personal video game when driving through Mongolia

We get in the car, adjust the seat so that the pedal distance is just right, buckle up, and put two quarters in the slot. I choose 3 players, level of difficulty, my route, start the engine, hear the rumble of a muffler-less rally car, and I’m off…as if I’m in a video game.

Driving in Mongolia has been the highlight of the trip for me. I’m not one that even really likes video games, but for me driving through western and central Mongolia is the ultimate video game.

Which Way?

When you are driving you are faced with constant decisions; mainly – which road do I take? In fact I have a hard time called them roads in Mongolia – they are more like paths and they spread out like tendrils of a complex spiderweb. You can’t drive very far before you are faced with a decision of left or right? But you are forced to make that decision in a split second as you are going 30 mph. It never fails, as soon as you decide to take the left tendril, you begin to beat yourself up because you think the right would have been a better choice! Truth is – they were all pretty much the same…full of holes, bumps, divots, dips, and sharp rocks…sometimes bolders.

Left or Right? Choose quickly!

Scanning for Pitfalls

When driving you can do absolutely nothing else; there is nothing relaxing about it. You are on watch, constantly. When I drove I couldn’t look around me at the landscape because my eyes were constantly scanning for pitfalls about 20 ft. in front of me. I honestly could barely even have a conversation with Dave or Deb when driving as I was unable to multitask with my brain so focused on the ever-changing road that lie ahead of me. In fact, I would realize that I would forget to blink I was concentrating so hard which made eye drops a necessity. Many times we reverted to ‘group watch’; the other person in the front seat would be responsible for the road on the left side of the car and tire and would call out potholes and big rocks.

Jagged rocks are the most dangerous for our bald tires!

Speed Racer

Most days we never got out of 3rd gear when driving in Mongolia. The moment you would get up any speed on a good patch of ‘road’, you’d have to slam on the brakes to avoid falling in a crevice that would certainly engulf your car and spit out your shocks or tire. It had actually been 3 days since we had used 5th gear at one point. Dave exclaimed that it excited him and frightened him at the same time!

Speeding...I mean crawling through Mongolia

Get a Grip!

Most of the time I had visions of the Dukes of Hazard in my head as I drove. I felt like I was constantly moving the steering wheel; yet this wasn’t for a TV effect, it was to avoid pitfalls! They say to be a safe driver that you should have your hands at 9 o’clock and 3 o’clock, but that was impossible as so much downshifting was necessary that I could only have one hand on the steering wheel and the other had to be on the shifter. The driving was a constant process of stops and start which required a lot of shifting and concentration.  I realized that I had been gripping the steering wheel so hard out of stress that I started to get callouses on my hands!

Me behind the wheel - gripping the steering wheel and downshifting...

Driving in Mongolia in an inappropriate car with low clearance was the ultimate adrenaline rush. Who needs video games when you have the real thing?

Where was the hardest place you’ve ever driven in the world?

Our early morning visitors

Once the sun came up they started appearing. They were just puffs of dust off in the distance and as they got closer you could see 3 or 4 people squeezed on the motorcycle. They were curious about what 2 little tents and a car were doing in their flat rocky landscape they call home. Or maybe they simply wanted to come and say hi. For whatever reason, they came, they stopped, they smiled, and they shared.

This particular morning at our camp near the village of Dariv we had lots of local visitors. Our camp site wasn’t one of my favorites as we had arrived in the dark the night before and had to choose our camping spots carefully among all of the rocks and prickly weeds with our headlamps. But this morning when we woke up and could actually see our surroundings, I was warming up to the place. It even had a toilet nearby! The toilet was so nice that I had to take my camera with me to capture the spectacular view!

Does your toilet have this view? Bring your own toilet paper...

Visitors started arriving shortly after we had cooked up breakfast. It wasn’t just the locals, it was also camels! We apparently were camping next to a favorite resting spot of camels; they cam meandering towards us in the morning and all sat down in a huddle not too far from our camp. Dave and I decided to go greet our furry, flatulent friends. We walked up slowly and quietly so as not to scare them, but soon realized that they weren’t at all intimidated by us. We practically could go up and pet them…that is if you could stand the smell.

He about looks like he's smilling for the camera!

Me with my furry, flatulent friends

Families on motorbikes started showing up and looking in wonderment at our car and tents. Little did we know that they were sizing them up as they wanted to buy them! They made the ‘universal’ sign for “How much” (rubbing your thumb and two forefingers together). We had to tell them that nothing was for sale and tried to explain that we were driving to Mongolia. We showed them the map on the front of our hood and they all huddled around to see the details excited to see the map of Mongolia, Russia, and Kazakhstan.

Sharing our route with our new friends

One family pulled up, got off their motorcycle, started digging through a big bag on their bike and brought us each a piece of hard goat cheese. Just to set the record straight – this goat cheese is not like what you buy in the store at home – it’s hard, salty, and a bit tangy/sour. It’s definitely an acquired taste. But we graciously accepted their gift.

They sat and watched us pack up our camp smiling intently and then when satiated with watching the foreigners, they all got back on the bike and drove off. It was one of my favorite mornings of camping; the toilet, the camels, and the locals – you can’t beat that! We got a late start driving that day, but it was totally worth it!

Dave and I posing with our new friends and goat cheese

Getting ready to go into the abyss with a little help from a local

When I was a kid I used to have this thing called a ‘bubble’; it was made of Styrofoam in the shape of an oval about a foot long.  It was used for swimming…actually it kept me from sinking.  The bubble was strapped around my waste and basically kept me afloat in the pool. I loved the water and I loved my bubble.

As we sat looking at the river crossing with a wind and rain storm at our backs, kids begging for candy around us, and a local guy assuring us we could make it – all I could think about was my old bubble. I thought to myself – I wish our car had a bubble.

This river crossing was much deeper than the ones we did the day before, but we had to tackle it. The local (possibly drunk) guy felt like we could make it without a tow, so we decided to trust his instinct. After all – locals know best. Even drunk locals probably know better than 3 North Americans that knew nothing about river crossings!

However, right when we were trying to sort out our best route to cross, a powerful wind/dust storm came up and the whole sky turned brownish gray. It was pandemonium as we tried to communicate with the local guy, and could barely see 4 feet in front of us! Deb once again took the driving position as Dave and I waded to the other side and waited for her with our fingers crossed. Dave and the local guy tried to direct her a bit around the rocks but I just stood there hoping for the best and wishing for a bubble.

We actually did many river crossings and we got better at every one. We learned to mainly trust the locals. If they said you could make it – then you could. They knew the exact complex routes that you should take to get across – and trust me – they weren’t always the most obvious or straight forward routes.

Dave and Deb put together a great video compilation of all of our recorded river crossings. The one at the end is the one I’m referring to today. Enjoy…with or without a bubble…

Yup - that's Dave and I under the car...this can't be good.

I took off driving today out of Khovd missing one important thing…Rick. He was unable to change his flights and we had to continue on without him while he flew to Ulaanbaatar. But the show must go on so Dave, Deb, and I plotted our course towards Altai.

The driving started out ok for about 5 minutes and then I hit the corrugation. The car bounced around out of control as if you were on ice sliding all over. The sound of the dashboard and entire car rattling was painful, and the hood of the car vibrated violently. This is no way to treat a car, but there was no avoiding it. Every road (and there were many to choose from) was the same.

This bouncy ‘road’ took a prisoner…our exhaust system. All of a sudden we heard the painful sounds of metal being drug on the ground. Shit – it was time to put our lack of mechanical skills to the test. I stopped and we all got out to look underneath and sure enough our exhaust system had ripped off the muffler and the clamps and was now hanging precariously.
For those of you like me that really have no idea what the exhaust system is – here’s some Cliff notes:

The exhaust system in your car has three main functions. First it transfers poisonous exhaust gases from the engine to the rear of the car. Secondly, it quiets down the engine sound while running. Finally, it converts unspent fuel into spent fuel with the help of a catalytic converter.

Basically – it’s important…but not THAT important. Our motto with the car is that if something breaks or falls off and the car still runs…then we don’t need it.

Dave trying to tie up the copper wire while I hold the rest in place

However, we didn’t really want something dragging all day so we emptied our trunk searching for anything we could use to tie up the exhaust pipe but only had a bungee chord that would certainly melt from the heat after a while. After about 20 minutes, a few teams pulled up and surveyed our issue. Mongolian Madness gave us some copper wire to use and we crawled under the car and tried to tie it up the best we could simply to keep it out of the way and not rip anything else off with it.

However the roads continued to be brutal and copper wire could only last about 40 minutes before it too broke off. At least we had lots of wire, but this was going to be a slow day with lots of stops. On top of it today for some reason we were hopelessly lost in our navigation. We got lot in construction roads and had to turn back around a number of times.

The day was brutal on the car as it took us 10 hours to go 130 km. Our goal was to make it to the next little village in order to try to get some better solution than the copper wire as we were running out quickly! However finding the town proved to be a challenge amidst all of the ‘road’ construction and our awful out of date map.

We finally arrived at the little village and locals pointed us to the gas station which was a small building with one pump surrounded by fencing. We showed the owner our issue and he went into a shed and promptly pulled out about 5 feet of fencing wire! He refused to take any payment for the wire and helped us also get our spare tire filled up that had somehow gone flat. We crawled back under the car and with a pair of needle nose pliers and secured the exhaust in a couple of places before the sun went down.

Our fencing wire fix!

This exhaust and muffler isn't going anywhere now!

It was a hard day, but there’s always a silver lining somewhere. Not only were we helped by the kindness of other teams and locals, but now our car had a deep, guttural sound to it. It finally sounded like a rally car!

Soakng up the Mongolia Landscapes

Since we had made it into Mongolia – it was time to slow down and enjoy our surroundings. One problem, Rick had a flight to catch. He hitchhiked a ride with another team to Khovd to try to sort out his flight issues while Dave, Deb, and I took a slow day of filming and photography. The Mongolian landscape is like no other to me; and it screams out “Look at me, I am perfect. Take my photo!!”

It’s so hard to balance the desire to complete the rally challenge and the desire to actually slow down and enjoy our surroundings and experiences. A part of me felt like the longer we had the car out on these roads the greater likelihood of us not making it, yet here we were in the most stunning landscapes in the world. Then there was also the desire to keep up with the other teams we met. It was a difficult balance though because we wanted to also savor the experience. Dave, Deb, and I had an unlimited amount of time to get through Mongolia, so we decided to actually soak it in.

Our stunning camp site heading into the mountains

Wild horses dot the landscape

Today’s drive took us around snow-capped mountains, and it also took us through some of our greatest challenges to date – rivers. This was the first test of our little low clearance car. However I must admit – it helped to be 200lbs lighter without Rick in the car today. Still – we knew that we had the wrong car for crossing rivers in Mongolia, but that’s the whole point of the rally.

The Hot Box pauses to take in the scenery

Since we were going ‘Sunday drive speed’, some of the other teams caught up with us. It was great to reunite with the Sign Up Team and Cider Me Up team – not only because they were a fun group of guys, but also because they had big vehicles which could potentially tow us through water if we needed it!

We all pulled up to the first crossing and sent out our guinea pigs to test the depth. It was only about a foot deep – so we decided to go for it. Deb put it in gear and dove in with a splash! She kept her foot on the gas and powered through as we all cheered her on! I can only imagine that the Hot Box enjoyed the cool bath!

Will the Hot Box Float?

Just when we thought we had mastered river crossings – we came across this bridge. I don’t even know if I would call it a bridge – it was more of a relic or felt like a prop from a Hollywood movie. When we first saw it from a distance, Deb said, “Oh, it doesn’t look bad”, and then we pulled up closer. Dave got out to survey the viability of crossing it and determined that we could make it. Deb and I stayed in the car as Dave directed us around some of the worse-off areas of the dilapidated bridge. At one point there were only a few exposed railroad ties that we could cross on. We stopped at the precipice to consider it for a moment and then gingerly dropped down onto the railroad ties. The ties creaked, I let out a scream, and Deb hit the gas to safely deliver us to the other side and solid ground!

An adventurous bridge crossing

Will the bridge hold????

Video from Dave and Deb’s YouTube channel – check out all of their great videos!

We stopped for a quick tomato and cheese sandwich on the hood of our car and took off towards the Mongol Rally Ger Camp in Khovd. We were all eager to reach the camp as it promised internet and showers…I’m not exactly sure what I was more excited about!

We pulled into Khovd at 3:30PM and quickly joined the other teams there drinking beer. The camp was run by Mongolians who had experience with the Mongol Rally. After the last few years of hosting ralliers coming through Khovd, the ger camp owner decided to do the rally himself this year as the Mongolians2Mongolia Team (the first ever Mongolians in the Mongol Rally’s 8 year history). His wife and extended family were left to run the camp this year and they eagerly awaited his team’s arrival!

One night at Ger camp....

We were excited to have a night in a ger with a proper bed. But first there was more team bonding to do over beer. Throughout the night more teams arrived and everyone recanted stories about the first few days in Mongolia. Some were unbelievable, and many centered around car issues and repairs. But we were happy to see the teams that we camped with at the border all making it through Mongolia. We were especially happy to run back into the Mongolian Madness team who’s antics entertained us to no end. One of the mates had a black eye as we learned that the Irish boys had some team disagreements. That’s certainly one way to handle team dissension! However all was fun and laughs now with a few beers and a few more miles under everyone’s bald tires.

A late night of rally partying – but back on the road tomorrow!

Canned meat...smells like cat food, looks like cat food...

“I’m starving!” I said as the Russian waitress brings out the menu with the usual cold grimace on her face. I eagerly open up the menu so that I can find something to eat, my eyes focus on the words and then it hits my brain; I have no idea what this menu says.

The only food word I know in Russian is borsch; but I’ve eaten borsch for the last 2 days – I can‘t face another bowl of scantily clad cabbage soup. I decide to be daring; I will play menu Russian Roulette. I turn a couple of pages of the menu, shut my eyes and point as if I’m pinning a tail on a donkey. My finger lands on the sticky, plastic menu page and I open my eyes. Looks like I will be having this:

Menu Russian Roulette

Living out of a car for 5 weeks poses some eating challenges. On top of it we were traveling through countries where there was very little tourism and English. My diet went to hell for the last 5 weeks, virtually no vegetables (except for the occasional shred of cabbage in borsch), and very heavy on junk food and carbs. During the 5 weeks all of the skin started peeling off of my fingertips and hands; I blamed it on my awful diet and poor nutrition.

Our first of many bowls of borsch

Apartment Kitchen

We started out in our Oh London apartment pretty well fed. We had access to grocery stores near our apartment and cooked up feasts that were well balanced. We bought cooking staples such as salt, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and pepper that would end up lasting us all the way until Ulaanbaatar. They were a great investment for camping and roadside lunches.

Living the good life at our Oh London! apartment

Friend’s Hospitality

Next we were absolutely spoiled in Belgium and Germany where our travel blogging friends, Cheeseweb and TravelDudes, hosted us to beds and absolute feasts of cheese, pasta, salad, beer, and wine.

Cheese plate from Cheeseweb of course!

Breakfast with Melvin the original Travel Dude

McDonalds

We are not ashamed. We are full time bloggers and we need internet…and sometimes we need a Big Mac to go along with that internet! Throughout Europe and into Romania we utilized McDonalds to get wifi connections and for food. I doubt we would have stopped there as often if it weren’t for the wifi – but a hot fudge sundae on a hot August day is always a treat!

Camping

We had run out of McDonalds and friends so we started to our camping portion of the trip. Dave and Deb had great supplies for cooking. With a small, ultra light burner for cooking, 2 pots, and some sporks an outdoor feast was created! The markets were quite limited in Central Asia, but we would stop at grocery stores and purchase pastas and sauce, rice dishes, canned meat (which pretty much smelled like cat food…but when you are hungry – you eat it.), eggs, oatmeal, bread, tomatoes, and spreadable cheese. While in Kazakhstan of all places we even found peanut butter – which provided weeks of sandwiches and sanity for us! At this point though the only vegetables we were getting were tomatoes and an occasional jar of mushrooms. We had virtually no dairy except Happy Cow spreadable cheese. However while camping in Mongolia we experienced local hospitality quite often when local herder families would bring us hard goat cheese that could crack teeth. One morning a young boy brought us a bottle of fermented mares milk. There’s nothing quite like drinking fermented mare’s milk at 9AM. It certainly adds some zip to your cereal.

Camping breakfast!

Our young visitor bringing us a bottle of airag

Camping dinner with Dave and his little camp stove

On the Go

We ate in the car and on the car. Tomato and cheese on bread was the most common ‘meal’. However, most days we never stopped for lunch. Instead we would eat horrible junk food that we could buy at gas stations. I consumed more chips and candy bars in 5 weeks than I have in my entire adulthood! Chip flavors are always interesting in other parts of the world – we became chip flavor critics. For the record we don’t recommend the fish egg flavor! Suckers also saved my life most days. They helped deal with the boredom, dry climate, and dust. Sitting on our asses in a car for 8 to 10 hours a day and eating chips, suckers, and Snickers bars probably isn’t the best life choice – but it kept us from having low blood sugar melt downs in the car.

Western chips...pretty tasty!

Restaurants

We actually ate at very few restaurants – mainly because it was so difficult to order once we reached Russia and Central Asia. There were only 3 times we actually had English on a menu – Barnaul Russia, Atrau Kazakhstan, and Kostanai Kazakhstan. We also found a German restaurant in Kazakhstan where we attempted to order sausage by miming the word sausage (use your imagination), and we received boiled hot dogs. There were virtually no restaurants in Mongolia along our route. However we did find a Seoul restaurant in the little village of Altai which had pictures on their menu. They served Korean food and sushi – yes sushi in the Gobi desert – talk about daring. But the waitress looked at us like we were insane when we asked for soy sauce!

Dave & Deb enjoying the Seoul restaurant in Altai

Eating and finding food is all part of the adventure in the Mongol Rally! Bon Appetite!

Western Mongolia - the land of open spaces

At 11AM a border guard walks across the parking lot carrying passports and some forms, looking official with a stern look on his face. All of the teams perk up, and eyes follow the official’s every move; each wondering who will get the ticket to freedom. The official doesn’t say a word, scans the license plates on the cars until his eyes rest on one.

Twenty-four hours after arriving at the Russia/Mongolia border, the Hot Box just gained it’s freedom! The official hands over the paperwork and passport to Dave and we all rejoice; these are the documents we need to bring the car into Mongolia. We’ve just been granted access into the least densely populated country in the world!

We bid goodbye to the rest of the teams knowing that we will see them along the route again shortly and take off following the Carry On To Mongolia team past the gates and into Western Mongolia.

A wave of relief came over me…we were in; this was a huge accomplishment. From this point on there were drop off points for the cars that didn’t make it and mechanics that Mongol Rally teams could try to work with. There were only a few route options, so it all of a sudden felt somewhat easy. There were no more decisions to make, no more what if’s; it was our last country and all roads led to Ulaanbaatar.

Then the car jerked, swerved, and bounced reminding me the challenge was far from over. The challenge now was not directions, routes, or corrupt officials…it was the roads – or lack thereof. Mongolia was ready to chew up and spit out these little cars – I felt it was hungry and eying our little car as if it might be a nice appetizer to be followed by a bigger ambulance coming behind us, and maybe a little motorcycle for dessert.

We drove into the grand landscapes of Western Mongolia headed towards the town of Olgii. Some snow still clung onto the peaks and I had to remind myself that it was late August. The mountains seemed to dwarf the livestock which appeared as little dots on the hills. As we drove by, herders and kids would notice us and come running or galloping towards us waving. It was as if everyone was welcoming us to this Kazakhstani airmag (district).

Locals run up to meet us

Young boy eager to meet us as we drove by

Even the dirt was excited to see us – it seeped in every crack and vent of the car and started the process of coating the car and us in a constant chalky dust. For as long as I live the smell and taste of fine dirt will remind me of the Mongol Rally.

In the distance we could see the first casualty – the team Carry On To Mongolia was stopped in the middle of the road with the hood up. My heart sunk as we pulled up to them since I knew that our little mechanically inept team would be of little help to them. However they didn’t need us. They were too busy ripping out the backseat and trying to get to the fuel pump. This was a team of engineers from Australia and the UK; they were in their element. We instead just gave them words of encouragement and took video and photos since that’s what we do best! Soon other teams started to appear on the scene everyone with various levels of mechanical knowledge – but all more than us!

Teams huddle around trying to help - while Team SMS take photos.

It was a humbling process to see how everyone pitched in and tried to solve the problem. Parts under the hood were removed surgically until they determine that the fuel pump was indeed busted. Another team would need to tow them over the mountains and to the little town of Olgii where they could get mechanical help.

Since we were unable to help in the towing department we continued to move forward and knew that we would see them again in the next town. We pushed on past Olgii after picking up a few crucial camping supplies. I stopped to ‘talk’ to a family who was packing up their ger and moving for the season. A big truck piled high with all of their possessions and 7 of them to fit into the cab. Vehicles packed over capacity were a typical sight in Mongolia.

This family is moving & graciously posed for me as they were moving their ger

The skies darkened and you could see storms in the distance and we continue d to push forward. Then in a split second our road seemed to disappear before our eyes. Our little dirt path had simply ended. We were all dumbfounded. We started backtracking, criss-crossing the valley to try to find tracks again that led towards the town we could see in the distance. So close – but oh so far.

Stormy skies and our little Hot Box

This is the point where we started the very important process of asking for help from locals; a must if you are going to drive through Mongolia! We asked construction workers, herders, and kids – slowly finding our way closer to the town. Finally in the town we stopped and asked for more directions towards Khovd. A guy on a motorcycle indicated he was driving to Khovd and we should follow him! We followed as long as we could keep up with the nimble motorcycle and as the sun went down we found a great little camping spot near a stream.

We asked everyone for directions...even the horses

As we made dinner that night in the dark, a pack of wild horses ran by our camp startling us. A big grin came across my face as I thought – where else could this ever happen in the world other then Mongolia? Mongolia is all about freedom. We gained our freedom from the border today and now were running wild like the horses. We have made it to our final country – and what an amazing country it is.

The last leg - Mongolia!!

X marks the spot...if we only knew where we were!

We are traveling in Mongolia with a map that is 5 years old.  This normally wouldn’t be that big of deal, but in a country where roads are only dirt and they change every season as new tracks are made, this IS a big deal.  Every day we start off confident of our direction.  Then about 30 minutes later a plague of doubt drifts into the car – sort of like the Angel of Death creeping into Egyptian streets via a glowing green cloud in the movie The Ten Commandments.  Slowly it enters each of our minds first…a little nagging voice, “Are we going the right way?”  “Where is the main road?” “We haven’t seen any other cars for a long time.” You shake it off and silently think – of course we are on the right road.  But the voice comes back, again and again…until it finally finds volume and someone verbalizes it in the car.  Then the group worrying begins.  Compasses come out, maps are unfolded, and we all look for any person or vehicle along the road that we can ask.

We have become really good at stopping moving vehicles (mini buses, construction vehicles, SUV’s, and people on horseback) to ask them if we are going the right way.  We’d bring a map, try to pronounce the town we were hopefully heading towards and then point in all directions in a frantic motion.  They didn’t need to speak English to understand what we were asking.  99% of the time they pointed us in the direction we were already heading.  We’d get back in the car confident of our navigation…for a whole total of 30 minutes before this process would start again!

One thing that held true for our entire time in Mongolia was that we felt that the road we weren’t on was always better than the one we were on.  I don’t know that there is any truth to that – but that ‘grass is greener’ attitude has a strong pull in the brain when you have miles and miles of roads ahead of you and too many options!

The signs really weren't very helpful...however if you look closely, we did leave our SMS mark!

Rick asking for directions...

Deb with all the tools and our out of date map...an exercise in futility.

Are we going the right direction????

Stuck at the border...nothing to do but socialize!

I had been looking forward to the Mongolia portion of the trip not only because it was the most adventurous and uncertain, but because I expected it to be the most social. Prior to this, rally teams were spread out all over Europe and Central Asia and about 75% of them would funnel through this Russia-Mongolia border, many meeting for the first time. This is where the trip really changed and became more of a group effort.

As we waited at the border overnight for our car paperwork to get sorted out, teams started to bond. It sort of segregated into ages – the old and the young. I don’t need to tell you which group we were in! We quickly befriended a couple of teams and set up camp around their pimped out rally vehicles. The Sign Up Team (who’s tagline is – Embracing the spirit of adventure, or having a mid-life crisis?? ) and Cider Me Up Ghengis were driving in the lap of luxury compared to our little Nissan. They had an ambulance and a conversion van complete with tarps that formed extra rooms, extra battery power, outdoor lights, 4 burners on their camp stove, and even a huge flag of Mongolia to flying high! We know how to pick friends! We had actually met the Cider Me Up team while driving through Kazakhstan one day and were thrilled to be reunited with them again.

Getting close with the Sign Up Team and their pimped out camping diggs

Teams bond at the border

They even had a Shit Box…no lie. A little cardboard box that came in a brown nylon backpack and folded into a cardboard toilet with little plastic baggies for capturing the shit. Not to be outdone the Italian team came and showed off their homemade toilet solution. I honestly thought both were a gag until the next morning when I saw the Italian walking off into the field with his homemade toilet, reading material, and a shovel.

Chris from Cider Me Up showing off his shit...

The homemade Italian version...so fashionable!

The overnight at the border was like a melting pot of fun. Germans, Italians, Brits, Australians were all bonding over beer and food. One of the guys referred to as ‘Chef’ cooked up a noodle extravaganza and the teams shared food and drinks all swapping stories of Central Asia and car breakdowns.

"Chef" with his gourmet camping dishes

Steve of Sign Up Team sharing noodles...

I had planned on simply sleeping in the car that night as I was too lazy (and drunk) to set up the tent, but the Sign Up team insisted I sleep in their van where I could at least lay down on the floor. John from Carry On To Mongolia even gave me his fancy blow up mattress to sleep on since he was planning on sleeping in his car that night. I felt like I had the 5 star treatment!

The comradery had begun at the border and I was excited to see how it developed as we all drove through Mongolia!

Crossing the Border from Russia to Mongolia

They say patience is a virtue.  I’ve learned to developed my patience through traveling, but the border crossings on the Mongol Rally kick it up to a whole new level of patience that is required.  For our last border crossing, “Wait” is the word of the day…and night.

This was it , our last border crossing to tackle and according to Mongol Rally history, it would be our hardest and longest border crossing yet; Russia to Mongolia. I had heard horror stories of teams being kept days at this border in western Mongolia thanks to paperwork; a slow bureaucratic process of importing a vehicle into Mongolia. Plus, as usual, it could also be bereft of border guards that simply didn’t want to deal with rowdy ralliers or simply wanted bribes.

After a fun evening in Barnaul (western Siberia) eating steak and bonding with team Mongolian Madness (3 seemingly insane Irish guys also driving a Nissan Almera), we got our final car supplies (tow ropes, ratchet straps, & extra Gerry can) and took off late in the afternoon to push as far as we could to the border. We camped overnight and got up before the sun to take off and finish our drive through the stunning landscapes and mountains of western Siberia.

The Altai mountains of western Siberia

Our drive to the border in Siberia

We pulled up to the Russian border crossing at 11AM and parked in a line of 12 other Mongol Rally vehicles; the waiting begins. It was sort of like a reunion, yet none of us had met before. Instead, we could bond on similar experiences up to this point.

Teams drank beer, smoked hookah pipes, played cricket, and socialized swapping unbelievable stories of bribery, robbery, losing their way, kindness of strangers, and mechanical difficulties. At 3PM things started to move. Everyone threw their chairs and food into cars and quickly inched up in the line assuring no space was left for locals to try to sneak into the queue. There really are no such things as queues in Mongolia. Strangely in a country with the most open space on this globe, people don’t like to give you any space when you are in a line.

Eating noodles while waiting at the border

The Russian process was actually pretty simple once they let us in; after all we were border crossing veterans by now!  Walk over to this window wait, walk to a different window wait, fill our a form for the car wait, go stand in the corner wait, fill out an immigration form wait, walk to another window wait, open your car for inspection wait, and answer no when they ask you if you are carrying firearms or drugs wait. After this waiting process we were unleashed into no mans land; the 6 km of territory between the Russian and Mongolian border.

We rejoiced with a team yelp of happiness, took pictures, stopped to pee because my bladder could wait no longer, and then we came across the real obstacle – the entrance to Mongolia. A big red livestock gate graced the road next to a little white hut. This was the hand off point between countries. On the other side of the gate the tarmac disappeared into a bumpy dirt road.

This really was the ‘end of the road’.

The end of the road...Mongolia

They let us through and we bounced through the bumps to the official Mongolia border crossing where a lovely looking Mongolian woman wearing quite fashionable black boots with heels gave a reserved but heartfelt smile at Dave and said “Welcome to Mongolia.” My stomach flipped a bit when I heard this greeting not only because we had made it this far, but because it was said with a warmth and sincerity that Russia and Central Asia lacked in the world of border guards.

We pulled into the border at 4PM and followed all of the instructions of paperwork and waiting – the usual border ‘dance’ we were all used to by now. We still didn’t have our proper original paperwork on the car, but we were hoping our copy of our V5 would continue to hold up to this final border test.

As the Mongolians worked through paperwork with Ulaanbaatar and London regarding the car import process, we were told to move our car into a holding pen – and wait. More and more teams were sent to the pen to join us as the weather turned dark and the wind picked up as if it were queued perfectly for the climactic scene from a Hollywood movie. Two Mongolian guards dressed in formal military attire walked over to the pen as we all eagerly waited for them to get closer and hear them mutter the words of freedom, but our luck had run out. Instead they informed us they were closing for the night and we would have to stay here overnight – and wait.

Our car banished to the holding pen at the border

The wind whipped up even more as we all looked around at our stark, cement surroundings and all collectively thought…where the hell do we set up camp here?! Everyone ran for cover as the storm blew through with a furry. The temperature dropped suddenly forcing me to dig out my long thermal underwear and puffy coat. I looked around wondering where in the world I could put the thermals on amidst all of these people. Then I saw toilets and ran through the pelting rain to the row of wooden outhouses. The typical two planks of filthy wood above a hole of shit and flies awaited me – not the easiest place to change into thermal underwear – but it had to be done. I held my breath as I balanced on one foot taking on and off my sandals and pants one leg at a time; one false move and my sandal would be dropping into the pit of shit.

The rain ceased as quickly as it arrived and teams started jockeying for camping positions within the fenced in area. It was so cold and wet that I had decided to sleep in the car that night and instead focused on something more important than setting up a tent – Deb and I went for a beer run. If we had to wait overnight, then beer would be necessary.

The strange thing about being held at the border is that it was really our cars that were being held, however we were free to come and go. Groups of ralliers walked into the little dusty town and cleared them out of beer, vodka and potato chips. As we were walking back with 12 beers in hand we were graced with a double rainbow after the storm. It was Mother Nature’s way of welcoming us to Mongolia and saying – if you have to wait, you might as well enjoy the view. Of course I missed the great rainbow photo op since my hands were full of beer and chips and I hadn’t brought my camera into town. Luckily Dave was able to capture it for us!

Photo by Dave at www.theplanetd.com

Surely this would be a good sign of the times to come! However before we could get too excited about crossing into Mongolia and driving towards Ulaanbaatar to the finish line…we had some more waiting to do.

I am packing for the Mongol Rally as I type this so I thought I should feature Mongolia in my photo of the week.  However – I don’t want to focus on the beautiful landscapes – I want to focus on the people I came in contact with back in 2009 while I traveled through the Gobi Desert.  If the people aren’t enough – then learn the stories behind the people here – Modern Nomads.  I think the thing I look forward to the most in the rally is to interact with the people of the countries we drive through.  We will depend on them, laugh with them, be infuriated by them, and hopefully form fast friendships with them.

There’s another lucky person who will be experiencing the people of Mongolia besides my Mongol Rally team.

Announcing the winner of the Rally Raffle’s Intrepid Trip!!

Drum roll….

Maria Esquerdo Girbes of Spain is our lucky winner!  She will get to choose from a trip to Peru or a trip to Mongolia with our sponsor Intrepid Travel.

We raised over $2000 towards our Mongol Rally – absolutely amazing!

In addition,Ted Konkel is the Nox Audio winner for donating the largest total sum to the raffle.

You can read more about the raffle process and winner on ThePlanetD.com

Team Social Media Syndicate thanks you marvelous people who participated and bought tickets.  The support has been amazing.  We wish we could take every one of you with us!

Gobi Desert Trifecta

I am in Louisville this weekend for the Kentucky Derby so thought I would choose one of my favorite horse photos from Mongolia – the land where horses roam free.  We were driving through the Gobi Desert when we came across a pack of horses near a well.  The wind howled across the desert as we got out of the car and intermingled with them.  They seemed tame, but I know they yearned to run.

View more Mongolia Photography

View more travel photography at Photo Friday on Briefcase to Backpack

A race to Mongolia

I am drawn to the unusual – it’s a curse, but I’ll never change. In fact that magnetic pull towards the unique and different seems to get stronger and stronger for me as I get older. The harder part is that the unusual/unique/different becomes harder and harder to find. So when I found out my friends and career breakers, Lauren and Mike, over at Abandon The Cube were doing the Mongol Charity Rally, I was intrigued.

According to the Abandon The Cube website,

There are no rules in the Mongol Charity Rally, no set route, no assistance on the road, and no way to make the 10,000 mile journey in an ill-suited, 1 litre car without encountering problems. As the founding father of the Mongol Rally say, “If you haven’t run into massive difficulties on the way, then you are doing something wrong!”

Yup – that’s all I needed to read, I knew this was something I wanted to do in my lifetime. I decided I would follow the Abandon the Cube team this year in hopes of learning more about it for a future go of my own.

I contacted Lauren and Mike to learn more about the unique charity rally. Lauren kindly answered my numerous questions.

Lauren and Mike - Abandon The Cube Team

The Plan:

When and why did you decide to do the Mongol Rally?
In 2009 we were in Central Asia traveling for a few months and saw a rally car. The four folks insider looked miserable, dirty and helpless, they were trying to put gas in their car out of tiny little water bottles (what a Central Asian gas station usually consists of) and they could not understand the attendant, so we helped them out and they told us about the rally. We checked it out online later that afternoon and we were hooked on the idea.

What is your route and how did you decide upon it?
We will be traveling through 13 countries, leaving from Hyde Park, in London, through France, Germany, Czech, Austria, Slovakia, Hungary, Romania, Ukraine, Russia, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Mongolia. We decided on this because we looked at a map over Christmas and then colored in all the places we wanted to see. Romania is a bit out of the way, but we really wanted to visit Transylvania, so we added it to the route. Basically, its a semi-logical traveling wish-list that we get to see come true this summer. There is no time limit, but after we launch in the UK, we have three days to get to Prague, where there is a massive ‘czech out’ party where teams link up to caravan, or just to network,. After Prague, we are on our own until Mongolia. We want to see stuff along the way and are allowing around 40 days for the rally.

Will you be camping, staying in Hostels…or sleeping in the car?!
We will be camping almost all of the time. The luxury of having a car traveling is that we can now drive to the middle of nowhere, camp out, and drive away the next morning. We don’t have to find camp sites, just stop along the road out of site and catch a few Zs. When we cant find a spot, we’ll do hostels, but that is a last resort because of the cost associated with it, and safety for the car and supplies parking in cities and towns, etc.

Good cars in Mongolia are hard to find!

The Car:

You say that you need a car that is fully ‘decked out’. What is meant by fully ‘decked out’?
Well, spending 40 days in a car is alot. We’ll want to make sure its comfortable, capable, and can carry everything we need for that long a trip. We’ll need to add a roof rack, add a few cup holders, paint the exterior and apply all the sponsorship logos, etc. Ideally, we’ll also have a few amenities, like a CD or MP3 player on board– no body wants to hear me sing for 40 days.

Do you all have international driver’s licenses?
Surprisingly, that was one of the easiest things to get. We simply sent in a form to AAA and a few bucks and they send back the license. Easiest part of this adventure so far!

Are any of you mechanics? Can you all change a tire?
None of us know anything about cars, but luckily we’re all pretty good with tools. I’ve been reading a lot online about minor car problems and how to fix them, so hopefully that helps. I’m waiting to find out what kind of car we’ll end up with before i tackle how to deal with major breakdowns. I’ve changed a tire or two in my day, but I can’t say they look perfect when the new one is on. Guess that’s another skill we’ll perfect along the way!

The Charity:

Did you get to choose your own charity or was there a list to work with?
There was a list to choose from. The rally administrators create a list of verified charities since there are just so many scams out there that they really want the rally associated with good, helpful charities.

Why did you choose Mercy Mongolia?
We chose this charity because it is well known, and because they have a high rate of donation. Additionally, 90% of donations made to Mercy Mongolia go directly to their causes, with very little overhead. We’re excited about the work they do, and we are looking forward to seeing the good they have done first hand when we arrive in Mongolia.

The Sponsors – or lack thereof:

How much money do you need to raise in order to participate?
We’re looking for around $5,000, which would cover the entry fee ($1,500) as well as the car, supplies, gas, insurance, and visas. That’s in addition to the money we need to raise for charity in order to participate in the rally ($1,700)

You talk about media coverage and web frenzy – How will you cover your progress while on the road?
Surprisingly, while traveling we rarely had a hard time finding wifi. This year we’ll be in new territory, but I’m hopeful that we’ll be able to find an internet cafe wherever we stop. We have a blog to maintain, media information and press releases to send out, as well as just keeping in touch with concerned and excited family members.

How’s the sponsorship progress going so far?
So far, things are going slowly. With the tragic earthquake in Haiti, many companies and individuals have donated their maximum already. We’re hoping a generous company out there somewhere will take pity on us and supply us with ogles of cash so we can compete.
Here’s your chance to help sponsor their effort and raise money for Mercy Mongolia. To learn more, here’s a great PDF document about sponsorship benefits and details that Lauren provided. LINK (PDF document)
Please do consider helping as what they are taking on is no easy task!

Excited? Nervous?

What is the one thing that you are most looking forward to about the Rally?
I’m very excited for the experience of traveling in a car while abroad. We’ve always taken local transportation like buses and trains, which can be nice but also holds you back on what destinations you can visit. Last year in Uzbekistan it was just too difficult to get to the Aral Sea. Now that we’ll have our own ride, we can go where we want, see what we want. That liberation is amazing, and we’re looking forward to pointing our car towards some great sights along the way.

What is the one thing that you are nervous about regarding the Rally?
My biggest concern is raising the money to do the rally. Fund-raising is harder than I imagined and so far we’ve been striking out more than not, so we’re growing nervous. But, in the end you just have to have some faith that things will work out (and if not, we’ll tackle that when we’re faced with it). We’re doing the rally regardless of the funds, even if it means riding in the world’s crappiest car.

Mongolia has a very special place in my heart and I’ll be following the Abandon the Cube team with great interest during the Mongol Rally starting in July 2010. By the way – they are currently looking for another two teammates – so if you want an adventure for 40 days for a great cause, contact them!

Abandon The Cube

Mongolia Herds

Gobi Desert – Mongolia

Grazing Goats

I chose this photo this week in order to bring more visibility to the current state of emergency in Mongolia.  There are a lot of weather disasters happening around the globe right now, and Mongolia is no exception.  The extreme cold weather has been the cause of death to 1.7 million heads of livestock.  Herding in Mongolia is the main way of life.  In a country where life is already difficult, this blow is crippling.  Livestock is the main source of food and business for most of the 2.6 million Mongolians.

Some herders have lost more 50% of their livestock.  This saddens me greatly because I stayed with herder families in the Gobi Desert, learning their way of life was a highlight to me.  My interaction with these families made my trip to Mongolia a moving experience for me.

Hopefully as the summer months arrive, the Gobi will be a scene like this photo once again.  Teeming with life and color, and never-ending landscape.

Read more about the current Mongolian Weather Crisis , Mongolia’s Severe Weather Threatens Lives

Read about my experience living with Herders in Mongolia

See more Mongolia Photography

See more Photo Friday pics at DeliciousBaby.com

Wake up Call

-As written for Asia LIFE magazine Oct. 2009.

Speeding along the dirt tyre tracks past camels and goats, the bus randomly stops in the middle of the desert to let a family off where there is no sign of life. The bus lurches up and down as if it were a roller coaster ride, yet there are no screams of excitement among the stone-faced passengers. Instead, the over-capacity bus has all eyes on me; a stranger in their land.

A jeep driver picks me up at the bus stop, points the jeep towards the golden setting sun, and we speed off deeper into the desert, passing animal carcasses and piles of ovoos (a stone offering to the Gods). In less than an hour, we suffer two flat tyres and I experience the lightening fast pace at which Mongolians can fix mechanical issues.

We pull up at the first family’s ger and children come running out in excitement, which quickly morphs into shyness upon seeing foreigners. Goats roam in the distance searching for what little green blades of grass they can find. I scan our surroundings and wonder how anyone could live in this barren place with no trees or greenery, where the sky seems to swallow you.

The family dog inspects me and allows me to pass, thereby welcoming me into my first of many gers. A ger, the traditional nomadic homes of Mongolians, is merely a round tent made of wood lattice and heavy felt panels. A hearth sits in the middle where the cooking is conducted, an alter filled with family photos sits opposite the small door and the rest of the space is filled with various rugs and boxes. Everything is done in this one little tent. The family and extended family often sleep with big blankets on the floor at night and then roll them up in the morning and cook their meals in the same place. The concept of privacy or personal space is non-existent. In the desert you can’t even go sit behind a tree for privacy; the Gobi exposes you to the world.

Upon first entering the ger, I am handed a hot bowl of goat milk tea and bortzig (fried unleavened bread). I take an immediate slurp of the milk to show the proper respect. Milk is king in Mongolia, milk from goats, yaks, camels and horses. Throughout the trip, I will consume it in all forms: hot, fermented, dried and churned. Water scarcity in the Gobi means the Mongolians consume hardly any vegetables or fruit. Instead of these succulent foods, over the next week I will be fed boiled mutton and noodles with a broth of milk. For a snack I’ll enjoy bortzig and aarts (sour fermented goat cheese dried in the sun for days until it’s hard as a rock). The food is an acquired taste and it leaves me wishing I had brought more cookies with me in my pack. The food is tough and bland, in perfect alignment with the surrounding desert environment

I had arrived in Ulanbatar TK days earlier with one backpack, a Lonely Planet and absolutely no plans. After a few days of hitting the pavement between guesthouses, looking for a suitable itinerary and dodging pick pockets, I found my plan. A travel company called Ger to Ger offers trips through Mongolia during which you travel with nomadic families along their routes, stay with them and interact with their way of life. To top it off, 85 percent of the revenue Ger to Ger collects goes to the families and the communities, allowing them to sustain their way of life.

Before I headed off into the desert, Ger to Ger required that I attend a short cultural briefing, which included tips on how to enter and interact in a ger, as well as instructions on how to accept food, drink and snuff. Armed with a little Ger to Ger handbook, a tent, a sleeping bag, toilet paper, some cookies, a few clothes in my pack and two new travel partners, I took off for the Gobi Desert. This would not be a luxurious, highly organised tour; it was real travel. The motive was cultural interaction.

Gundsambuu Family

I arrive at the Gundsambuu family ger. They step outside, greeting us as our camel cart deposits us like royalty as the front door. The whole extended family surrounds us wearing big smiles and clean, pressed clothes. In fact, the clothes and their hygiene looked so impressive compared to the other families I had visited that I couldn’t help but think they had cleaned up for our arrival. I shake their hands and exchange names in vein, knowing I would never be able to pronounce their long, complicated, consonant filled names again.

Entering the ger clockwise, I take the esteemed floor space for visitors just slightly to the left of the alter, at the imaginary 10 o’clock position of the perfectly round tent. Careful not to cross my legs as we were warned against, I once again take the uncomfortable, but culturally correct position of legs bent beneath me. My knees continue to wonder why I was putting them through this torture.

The Gundsambuus were different than the other families. They are herders like everyone else; however, they have an amazing thirst for knowledge and cultural interaction. They quickly take out their tattered papers containing their “gateway to communication,” the Mongolian-to-English dictionary that Ger to Ger provides them. They begin asking us the regular lineup of questions, “What do you do?” “Are you married?” “Where are you from?” “What are your hobbies?”

Making Noodles

The men of the ger help us set up our tent in the softest place possible on the thirsty desert floor, while Mrs. Gundsambuu rolls out dough to make homemade noodles for her mutton soup. Granted, mutton soup is the meal we have at every ger, but I anticipate that this soup will be different; homemade noodles will surely give it a whole new, edible taste.

The Gundsambuus are constantly attentive to my needs; I feel as if they are on a mission to ensure I experience everything that Mongolia and the Gobi Desert have to offer. They show me all of their family photos, the horses in the stable—they display wood carving and even put on an impromptu wrestling demonstration. After searching the dictionary feverishly, Mr. Gundsambuu looks at me and asks, “Are you bored?”

The setting sun suddenly bathes the desert in soft, pastel, dusk light as if a water colour painting came to life. We sit outside the ger taking in the spectacular sunset. Mrs. Gundsambuu stands up and asks me if I want to learn a dance. Before I can answer, she takes me by the waist and teaches me a Mongolian waltz in the middle of the Gobi Desert, a moment that I could have never predicted in my lifetime.

—

The next morning, the Gundsambuu family is up early preparing the small Mongolian horses for our journey to the next ger. I take pictures and promise to send them via Ger to Ger so that my stay will be a part of the next traveler’s welcoming. I mount the tiny wooden saddle worrying about how my behind will handle the next 20 km in this uncomfortable position. However, any discomfort is quickly forgotten as the entire extended family walks with us and our horses all the way to the property line, waving goodbyes as we trot off into the Gobi nothingness.

The Ger to Ger handbook introduced the Batbekh family as a herding family, two daughters and one son. They enjoy milking camels and singing a song. The descriptions seem to be the same for all families in the handbook. However, each family I visit have a unique personality.

Among Goats

As we approach, I survey our new location; a few camels, a small fenced in area with a few goats and one ger looking so solitary it is sad. The ger is located in an unforgiving flat part of the desert. The wind howls with no impediments, free to blow wildly. Two young girls followed by their mother come out to greet us. I enter the tent, the father is sitting at his 12 o’clock position by the alter. I take my 10 o’clock position and slurp warm camel milk when it is handed to me.

This ger is different; it’s sparse, but colourful. There are no beds, no little cabinets, and no family snapshots. This family works hard for everything I see around me. I watch as the father methodically gets out his colourful, silken pouch and produces a snuff flask and passes it in my direction. Thankfully Ger to Ger training had prepared me for this and I had practiced how to receive and pass on the snuff bottle properly. I go through the motions; my left hand holds my right elbow and I reach out with my right hand and our palms exchange the bottled in a fluid motion, as if I were accepting a bribe. I open the bottle and take an obligatory whiff and pass it along.

The youngest daughter chatters to everyone non-stop in Mongolian as if we understand her. She flits around with a big smile on her face, entertaining everyone. We draw pictures and she sings songs. As we settle in to our new environment, the family goes about their chores, allowing us to relax. I go outside to get some fresh air and see the two older children filling pails with goat and sheep dung hardened by the desert sun. Since I immediately feel like a part of this nomadic family in harsh conditions, I pitch in and help gather fuel for our hearth.

Soon the whole family starts to round up and separate all of the goats in a seemingly random order. Yet like everything, there is a method to the madness. They are separating the goats from the sheep and the males from the females. The father ties the goats up head to head, forming a perfect milking line. Each person in the family has a pail and starts the long daily task of milking about 40 goats. This was another opportunity for me to get my hands dirty—literally. I help milk goats and the kids laugh at me in excitement, as I’m quite slow and inaccurate. But at least I’m making some progress. My work leads to immediate gratification; I have the fresh, thick milk for dinner over my mutton. Maybe this culture is seeping into me more than I know.

An evening of song and dance with the children ends with the kids walking with us hand-in-hand out to our little tent pitched next to the family ger. They squat next to me and watch me brush my teeth as if I were doing magic tricks. In the morning I wake to the mother singing the English songs we taught them the night before. I realise these songs will be the entertainment for the family in the weeks to come. This sharing of cultures sets change in motion.

However, change was already set in motion in Mongolia on some levels. Even though life moves slowly in the Gobi, the pace of change is evident; a young boy wears his LA Lakers basketball jersey next to his father in traditional herder attire, and motorcycles replace horses as they herd goats in the desert. Solar panels are perched on ger roofs, providing enough energy for a little battery that allows a light bulb or a television to come to life.

Batbekh Family

The Batbekh family lines up for a family photo outside their simple ger. The mother takes my hand and walks me to the horse cart still humming the English songs. I sing along with her, aware of my hand in hers. In her broken English she says, “Goodbye, my sister” and squeezes my hand. I climb onto the wooden cart. This barren desert is welcoming, thanks to the people.

View the People of Mongolia photography 

A lesson in Self Portraits

Lending a Hand

View Naadam Photography

Snapshots of the Naadam Festival

I woke up to hear our jeep ignition turn on and leave the guesthouse. I laid in my sleeping bag disturbed; wondering why Shat sped off at 6AM without saying goodbye. I felt a bit jolted as we had spent 3 days with him bonding in the jeep, desert, and villages. I tried to justify his unsocial behavior as cultural; maybe just something we westerners didn’t understand. As we ate our rice breakfast Natalie, Valerie and I discussed Shat’s abrupt departure and our surprise and dismay about being ‘dumped’.

According to the Ger to Ger loose itinerary we were stuck in this grey, bleak town until 11AM so I decided to try to make the best of it and find some beauty in it’s coldness by going for a walk around the dusty empty streets with my camera. I was surprised to find that there were more people out buzzing around the gravel roads than I had expected. I perched myself in the middle of the convergence of tire tracks which was presumably the ‘town center’ and watched the village sputter to life.

While snapping photos, I saw our old jeep speed through town towards our guesthouse. A wave of shame fell over me for ever doubting Shat’s intentions and social skills. He obviously hadn’t left us without saying goodbye. I stopped in at the store to get some bottled water for our day’s journey. When I stepped outside, our jeep was speeding towards me with a trail of dust following. Valerie and Natalie were in it already. It stopped and Shat opened the door and said, “Sherry, Naadam.”; I immediately hopped in as if he had said the magic words – “Sherry, Brad Pitt wants to see you.”

One word in Mongolian that I knew before I arrived in Ulanbatar was Naadam; the annual Mongolian festival celebrated in early July coinciding with the New Year. Naadam is the sole reason why many people travel to Mongolia. With 3 good travel months of the year and one large festival full of cultural artistry and sport; it becomes the focal part of many tourists’ trips. However I had to make the regretful financial decision and miss Naadam since the economics of supply and demand took over the airline and tour costs in early July in Mongolia. An already expensive airfare became impossible to afford on my ESL teaching salary. I wondered if it would be a move that I would regret once I arrived in Mongolia. Admittingly, after meeting tourists who had been here for the festivities, I felt pangs of regret resulting from my budget decision to skip Naadam.

However, when Shat pulled up in a fury and said the word “Naadam” in his heavy Mongolian accent, I knew I had been given a second chance by the travel Gods. Shat was my savior leading me to it. I knew that the official ceremony had already taken place in Ulanbatar on July 11th with a huge fanfare and throngs of tourists. Each even was highly orchestrated for the thousands of viewers in the capital city. However, I also knew that communities around the rest of Mongolia celebrated at different times around the 11th of July. Today was July 31st; much later than I would’ve expected any lingering celebrations, but I certainly wasn’t going to question it.

Mini jockeys and horses

Shat drove us out of the village and over a rocky hill where we saw a bunch of people gathering with horses. With small children as the jockey on the small Mongolian horses it all looked correct proportionally. We weren’t sure if a race had just ended or was about to start, but we did realize that this village was celebrating Naadam today.

The people started dissipating and Shat beckoned for us to get in the jeep so that we could continue on to our next Ger on the itinerary. I got back in and asked him if we could stay for more Naadam and he said, “No, Ger to Ger.” I had been here long enough to understand the cryptic English. This meant that he must keep us on our planned itinerary.

I was dejected as we started to drive away. I knew I didn’t want to regret missing this cultural photography opportunity and decided to ask him to call the Ger to Ger office and explain that we wanted to stay for this cultural opportunity. After a short conversation and explanation that we’d rather watch Naadam than go horse riding again, it was set! Shat was to take care of us the rest of the day at Naadam!

Best Dressed

Naadam is the festival of the 3 manly sports; wrestling, horse racing, and archery. I decided to leave my feminist alter ego inside and enjoy the manly sports without worry about why there weren’t any women allowed to participate. However, I did find out that young girls were allowed to race the horses; this was the only alternative if you didn’t have a son in your family! Regardless, there were many girls there in their best dressed outfits to watch all of the men compete – and I was one of them!

 It was challenging to figure out the rituals of Naadam without a guide or any nearby English speakers. We had no one to ask our many questions to. We sat on little benches where all of the locals gathered to spectate. The atmosphere was festive in this grey little village. They even had a few games set up; one in which you threw a ball at a pyramid of old, empty paint cans. I loved the simplicity of it all; no neon lights, no funnel cakes, no rides. After an opening ceremony of singing and various speeches, the competitions were ready to begin.

Now you see it...

Now you don't...

I found it stunning that for the past week whenever I met a Mongolian man it felt as if there was this cowboy aura about them. They were rough, tough, silent, and hard working. Plus, they wore theses elaborate traditional robes with beautiful colorful sashes and always a hat; sometimes a cowboy hat or baseball hat. So when these manly men oozing testosterone suddenly stripped down to baby blue and pink speedos and mini jackets with pointed hats; I about fell over. I know why they call wrestling a manly sport; you had to be in touch with your manhood to wear that outfit! Most of their bodies were shockingly fit despite a lack of gyms, bad smoking habits, and having a heavy dairy diet. These were bodies you couldn’t form in a gym; instead they were bodies developed form hard, manual work.

Beginnings and Endings

The wrestling itself had many strange rituals such as greeting each other and doing a victory dance resembling a bird. When they entered the ‘ring’ they squatted, slapped their thighs and then slapped their ass and ran into the ‘ring’. At the beginning and the end of the match, the wrestlers put their arms out in the air horizontally, and slowly flapped up and down in a fluid motion. I found it to be an odd way to taunt the competitor. When one of the men pinned his opponent, he would get up, get his hat from the officiator, and then proceed to do this bird dance. It kind of reminded me of the taunting that American football players do when they make a touchdown.

We are watching you...

As we watched all of the villagers compete, the villagers seemed to be watching us – the strange foreigners in the crowd. People would come up and sit next to us for a while just to take us in and size us up; then they’d leave. This didn’t bother me as long as they weren’t going to challenge me to a wrestling match! Then again, being a woman, there was really no fear of that happening (oops – the feminism needs to go back on a ‘time out’). The locals all passed around a big bowl of airag, fermented mare’s milk. Who knew that you could get drinkable milk from a horse? The bowl eventually was passed to us by a nice local that wanted us to be included in the festivities. I gave it a whiff, and decided, what the hell; I drank. It had that sourish taste of home made booze, but it honestly wasn’t too bad. In fact it was better than most of the cheap liquor I drank in college!

Game On	In the Grasp
Airborne	Down for the Count

  I loved the competition. The wrestlers were tough, really tough. There was no nicely padded floor, no apparent rules; only the hard, rocky desert ground to land on. They were focused as they began their match often spending the first few minutes simply staring their opponent down. The next move was often taking swipes at the other person, sometimes even latching on to their pretty baby blue ‘jacket’. You were lulled into relaxation as you watched the grown men pawing at each other as if they were puppies playing – then all of a sudden – ATTACK! Before I knew it someone was airborne and you heard a thud. The dust cleared and a winner was declared. The loser brushed the pebbles and dust out of their speedos and graciously watched the winner do their bird dance and receive his prize from the judges – hard unleavened bread/dunts…all of that for bortzig.

Down to the Wire

 After many random wrestling matches; some occurring at the same time, the spectators suddenly got up and started walking or driving up over the hill in the distance. Shat gathered us up and took us there too. Way off in the distance you could see them; little puffs of dust. It took me a while to figure out what I was looking at or for, and then it dawned on me that this was the horse race. I wondered where in the world the horses started at – clearly they had been running for a while. The child jockeys raced them in to the finish line on bare backs while families cheered the competitors on. After the race the horses all came to the main ground where the wrestling had been taking place and various forms of milk were poured on the winning horses as some sort of honor; milk is King in Mongolia!

Shat (on the right) and his friends watch Naadam

Seeing this small town festival was my highlight of my time in Mongolia. It oozed cultural experience which of course made me happy. Shat took care of us all day directing us where to go and where to sit.  He even took us to his friend’s home to eat freshly made buuz.  The events not on the itinerary are often the best – thanks Shat!

View all the Naadam photography

The stare

On the Fence

I took thousands of photos while in Mongolia. I have chosen a few to highlight for the Photo(s) of the week. These are my some of my favorite people that I captured. To see all of my photography from Mongolia – visit my Travel Photography website!

Mongolian Cowboy

Mirror Images

Baby Gift

Age is Beautiful

Blowing Smoke

Sun Hat

Orange Treat

Mirror Mirror On the Wall

Milk Moustache

I walked into the ger making sure to duck my head for the low door frame and went around the ger clockwise as I was taught in my cultural training . I took a seat where the family pointed – at the 10 o’clock position; the esteemed position for visitors. They quickly poured a bowl of steaming fresh milk and gave it to me. The milk had a slightly different taste than what I was expecting; it was from a goat. This new taste would quickly become old to me as goat milk became my main source of liquid for the next two weeks.

Pouring milk on an ooovo - showing dairy respect to the Gods.

The Food Pyramid:
The Mongolian food pyramid was a little different than a normal food pyramid and it left me baffled on how the Mongolians survived! The pyramid was dominated by dairy with no sign of vegetables or fruits. I ate more dairy in 2 weeks than I have in 6 months! Goat milk, Camel milk, various forms of yogurt (from runny to hard as a rock), goat milk cheese, the skin of boiled milk, and yes, even the booze was made of milk. Airag is fermented mare’s milk and quite a popular drink. (Yes, of course I tried it!) Milk is so revered that at sports festivals and religious festivals I often saw people putting milk on religious symbols or milk on horses heads for good luck. If milk was the king of the food pyramid, then what was the Queen?  Mutton.

Lost in translation - 'Mean' dishes (aka meat dishes)

Mean Dishes:
One of the restaurants I went to in Ulanbatar had nicely provided an English menu for its tourists. My eyes immediately went to the section titled “Mean Dishes”, and I instinctively scanned the menu for a “Nice Dishes” section. In Mongolia, you have to like meat; and you really have to like mutton. Problem; I’m not a real mutton fan, but as far as meat goes, that’s about all there is in the Gobi Desert. Often it’s dried and hung from the ceiling of the ger like jerkey. When it comes time to eat, they just take some down from the ceiling and cut it up and boil it. Of course like any good Asian country, every part of the animal is used. Goats stomach and various blood congealed innards were offered to me; but I decided that this was one cultural experience I could pass on.

Hard cheese drying in the hot sun

Pucker Up:
I was passed a round pale white disk; my hosts motioned for me to break some off and eat it. I took it and realized it was a hard cheese of some sort; I become mildly excited. After living in Asia for a year, I have adapted to the fact that cheese is a privilege and it’s not something I buy very often, yet I miss it terribly. I gladly took this mini wheel of hard cheese, broke off a piece and bit into it. It’s funny how your mind looks at food and automatically sets a taste bud expectation; sour, salty, creamy, spicy. When you mind jumps to a wrong conclusion it can change your whole eating experience. My mind took one look at this cheese and though….mmmm – aged parmesan. Reality hit the taste buds of my tongue abruptly and made my whole face pucker noticeably; it was sour and bitter. Like most things, the cheese was an acquired taste and in light of the fact that we had very little to choose from, you got used to the bitter cheese.

Goats awaiting to be milked

Even the water tastes like mutton:
I always know that I’m doing some great cultural traveling when there is no bottled water for sale; it means that you are deep within the local culture! The Gobi families boiled water for us to put in our bottles for travel. Since the ‘ger kitchens’ were very simple, most gers only had one big round wok that they cook in; imagine if you had only one pot in your kitchen! I found that the deeper I went into the Gobi, the less the water seemed to taste like water and instead tasted like goat. Sure, I had goat on the brain, day after day of goat milk and boiled mutton soup. However, this wasn’t my imagination; the water did taste like goat! I saw the women use the same pot for cooking up our dinner and boiling our water. Since water is scarce anyway, scrubbing dishes clean isn’t always a possibility either; hence the mutton tasting water. Needless to say, when we finally got to a village again, we all stocked up on water!

Our daily dish of mutton noodle soup - sholte khool

Hot food for Hot Weather
It’s about 95 degrees F, there’s no shade, the sun feels like a drill penetrating deep into your skin, and you think that it’s so hot you can hear your sweat sizzle. Finally, when you arrive at a ger (the only shade for miles), you walk inside and they immediately serve you piping hot milk and soup. Refreshing? Not really. I found this very hard to get used to, but there is some weird theory about eating hot food in a hot climate being good for you; I’m not a believer. However, with the absence of electricity and therefore refrigeration, everything was hot. The sholte khool which literally means ‘soup with food’ includes broth, some noodles, boiled mutton, and some potatoes. We had this every day – for lunch and for dinner; the novelty of it wore off pretty quickly. This constant diet of sholte khool was very reminiscent of my 16 days of Dhal Bhat in Nepal – the same food for 2 weeks straight is never easy to tolerate; but you tell yourself that it’s only for 2 weeks and for 2 weeks you can tolerate anything…right?

A Sweet Medicine

My travel partners intestines weren’t tolerating the food as well as I mine and they had given up eating much more than simple bortzig (hard, unleavened bread) and milk tea. One of our rather perceptive Ger hosts noticed this and made us a lunch that would be ‘easy ‘ on the stomach – sweet rice. Rice! I never thought I’d be so excited to have rice again. My travel partners’ illness was my good luck. The rice was boiled and the mother added sugar and a home made thick buttery cream mixture that was so divine I had 3 bowls! It was so nice to have something sweet and without a mutton flavor for a change. The Mongolian diet doesn’t have much sugar infused in it at all, so my sweet tooth was suffering badly!

Making Buuz

Welcoming Change
Lest you think that all of my food experiences in Mongolia were bad, I do have to say that we did have one day of respite from the mutton soup diet we found ourselves on. We stayed at a guest house in a little village one night. Ok – basically we slept on someone’s living room floor with sleeping bags. Our host ran the local restaurant and bar in the village. So not only did we have locals stopping in at all hours of the day buying vodka, but this also meant that we had some really good food! She served us a feast of yogurt with jam and apricots, carrot salad, fried potato-egg pancakes, and buuz (a mutton filled calzone or dumpling). Finally, some fruit and vegetables – my intestines screamed  – THANKYOU!  All of this fiber was such a welcome change to our steady diet of mutton soup, bortzig and sour cheese. However, ironically after that I had digestive issues for a few days; going to show you that you can never predict where and when you’ll get a bad strain of bacteria that wants to conquer your intestines.

I survived my two week diet of all things dairy and goat; however, I don’t think I’ll ever forget the taste and smell of goat again for the rest of my life! In an attempt to balance out my own food pyramid, the first thing I had when I got back to Vietnam was a big plate of veggies and fruit!

Love to read about food?  Then check out these other foodie posts on Wanderfood Wednesdays brought to you buy Wanderlust and Lipstick

The Road to Civilization?

 View Gobi Desert Village Photography

As dynamic and ever changing as the Gobi Desert is, the villages in the Gobi are quite a contrast. The only words that would come to mind when I was in a desert village was bleak and uninviting. During my stay in the Gobi I was overnight in villages for 3 nights. What I thought would be a nice respite from the harshness of ger living turned out to be a bit of a disappointment. However, being a culture junkie, I found the villages fascinating beyond belief. I always had the same thought run through my head, “Who in their right mind would live here?”

All Fenced In

All of my village experiences were similar. I’d arrive in a bleak little village of approximately 1,000 people after a hot, dusty, bumpy drive. There were no trees, nothing green; instead you saw fenced off living areas leaving wide, deserted gravel ‘roads’. People claimed their rocky village plot with some sort of house structure AND a ger. Yes, even in the villages everyone still had a ger. However, unlike in the wide open desert, the village gers were always surrounded by fencing. The fences appeared to be made of a hodgepodge of scrap metal and wood which made it look like a junk yard, not a village. Granted, I don’t know what I was expecting out of the villages, in the desert, but it was hard to get any kind of warm feeling about the village. I found it a strange contrast to the open nomadic way of life where there are no fences or apparent boundaries. The villages appear to be all about exclusion, not inclusion.

The Playground

It was hard to find life in these villages. Kids played in the dirt and pebbles; their yards are one giant sandbox. More dogs roamed the street than people, giving a strange science fiction effect to the villages. The eerie, ‘what planet am I on’ feeling was heightened due to the lack of grass and trees. Motorcycles sped through once every 20 minutes, and a random car once every 45 minutes. The town was blanketed in grey clouds taunting the Gobi with the look of rain that would never come; Mother Nature is such a tease.

The first order of business was to get clean. No water or showers for days takes its toll; luckily there were no mirrors either! In the villages you could pay for a shower which resembled a Russian woman’s prison. Ok – I really have no idea what a Russian woman’s prison shower looks like…but I swear this is what it would have looked like! A big, menacing lady took our money and led us into the large open shower room with one shower head. She turned the lever and a tiny little trickle of water came out and dropped to the floor; and the floor seemed to say “thank you.” Without any facial expression, she looked at us , nodded, and left. Even this ‘barely there’ shower was such a welcome sight after 5 days of dirt, sand, rocks, horses and camel shit. I wouldn’t have cared if that menacing woman would have scrubbed me down as long as I would have been clean in the end!

Rush Hour

Next we walked to the local shop in search of a can of Coke (my savior in any travel situation). Like the Pied Piper, soon we had a line of curious children and dogs following us and watching our every move. I scanned the shop shelves and found expired food behind old glass cabinets, rotting fruit, a few toiletry products, random clothes, and underwear hanging on the walls.

However, even in this grim village life, I was more determined than ever to find beauty in it. I knew that it had to exist somewhere. So I decided to take my camera out and try to really capture the uniqueness of it. After wandering around photographing the desolate buildings, I realized that there was beauty in it. I was reminded of how far a smile can take you. As I stood in the middle of the gravel ‘roads’ and people watched me from a distance trying to figure out why the crazy foreigner was photographing run down buildings; I smiled at them. No matter how harsh the surroundings, I always got a smile back. I found it beautiful that people could live in such an environment; one which I knew I could never tolerate.

View Gobi Desert Village Photography

Got Paint?

Mongolian Horizon

“We all live under the same sky but we don’t have the same horizon” – Konrad Adenauer

Isolation
I have been to about 90% of Asia and there’s one things that hold constant among all Asian countries; population density. There are so many people in Asia, it’s mind boggling. This population density contributes to why Asians aren’t as protective of their personal space as westerners, and they don’t like to queue. However when arriving in Mongolia I was stunned at the emptiness. The country of Mongolia has the lowest population density in the world. I had never experience emptiness like this before. We’d drive for 100km in the desert and you wouldn’t see another human being; nor a truck or car or motorcycle. However, we were never really alone as we were surrounded by the animals; camels, horses, goats, sheep, and yaks. We’d see packs of random camels grazing in the seemingly barren desert. I honestly have no idea what they were grazing on!

Kaleidoscope of Colors and Texture
As we left Ulanbatar the terrain changes from rolling green hills with gers puffing out fairy tale smoke to the pebbly brown hills of the Gobi. I saw the last tree I would see in days, and soon the desert colors and landscape seemingly changed as quickly as the turn of a kaleidoscope. I’d look at the jeep window and see a flat, brown rocky landscape. I’d look up again and see mountains in the distance and then the landscape would be greener with little blades of young grass sprouting up from the parched earth. Next my eyes would be greeted with a pebbly landscape that looked steely and gray with no sign of life. Finally I would stare out my window wondering if I had missed us shoot into orbit somehow; it looked as though we had landed on the moon. This unearthly surface was one of my favorite. Strangely the desert was more colorful than I ever would have imagined. 

 View Mongolian Landscape photography

No Sand in the Desert?
When you think of the desert, you think of sand – right? Not so fast, the Gobi isn’t a sandy desert. In fact, in my 12 days there, I saw very little sand (even though my camera sensor would say otherwise evidenced by all the dust particles on my photos that I had to edit!) Instead there were boulders, rocks, pebbles and dirt.

Uush Sand Dunes

There are some large sand dunes, however you had to travel to find them, they were more or a rarity than the norm. We luckily did travel to the Uush sand dunes; the dunes known for their amazing healing sand (according to the locals who would bury their bodies in it). After a long drive through the flat dusty terrain, we finally saw the dunes raise up out of the nothingness. We climbed to the top of the dune and sat down in the fine sand and took inventory of our surroundings. It was an amazing view from the top; looking down on the flat, hard desert floor. As I looked out into the distance I noticed that the brilliant blue sky disappearing into a brown haze. I asked our local host about the strange sky; a sandstorm he said. I’ve been in a lot of weather conditions all over the world, but never a sandstorm. I decided to take on the emotion of our host and stay calm and watch it get closer and closer as our sun disappeared and the wind picked up. Seemingly at the last minute he looked at us and said “We go now”, and we all proceeded to race down the huge dune to safety! It was invigorating as we ran into the ger and the sand started whistling past the door and we all took a safe cover. The desert was full of surprises!

Mongolian Safari

Desert Safari
I felt as if we were on safari at times; I had memory flashbacks to my time in Kenya, driving a bumpy jeep through barren land in search of animals. In the Gobi, it seemed as if the animals would come look at us, and we in turn would look at them as if the idea of a shared heartbeat in this empty landscape drew us together. At one point we came over a small rise in the landscape and suddenly saw a herd of lightening fast Ibex dart across the vast desert. I yelped in delight as if I had just seen a cheetah! The only thing you could see was little puffs of dust following their trails as they disappeared out of sight as fast they came into our sight. In addition to the unique Ibex sighting, there was another unusual animal in the desert; the camel. It’s important to note that camels in the Gobi desert are actually unique, I was told the Gobi is the only place you’ll find two hump camels in the world which makes them even rarer than elephants!

Nothing survives here!

The Desert Effect
As if I were on a movie set, we drive and bump our way past rotting animal carcasses, skulls, and various bones scattered on the desert floor. The bones would be so white from the sun that they seemed unreal. In fact, my first reaction to going by what looked to be a yak skull was ‘Is that for real?” As if I thought some movie director had decided to put a fake skull out in the middle of nowhere to create a ‘desert effect’. These are the times when realize that maybe there has been too much television influence on my life and not enough real life experiences! Real life in the desert is hard; especially for the animals. These were the animals that didn’t make it for one reason or another. But you can be sure that in the great ‘circle of life’ the other animals benefited from the death as evidenced by the cleanly picked skeletons. One animal’s death was another’s feast.

A few lone trees were a pleasant surprise

Mirage of Trees
After driving for miles and miles towards the sand dunes, I saw something off in the distance. The little black formations were unusual, but I assumed they were camels or horses milling together in solidarity against the elements. I kept my eye on the dark odd-shaped spots as we continued to drive closer to them. I rubbed my eyes, still fixated on the spots, realizing that these weren’t animals, nor were they people; they were trees. A strange little clump of trees had sprung up out of the dry, cracked desert floor! I wondered if I was seeing things; was this indeed a mirage? I had gone days without seeing trees and my brain was surprised to see this one time familiar image again. The unexplainable bunch of hearty trees appeared to be growing next to a dried out river bed; I imagined these tree roots sucking every last ounce of water out of the river until it was gone and only a slurping sound remained; certainly the heat was getting to me!

Distant Storms

Stormy Weather

One great thing about a desert is that you can see for miles and miles; the horizon surrounding you like a halo. However, sometime that pure horizon would be disrupted by a strange site; rain. Never once did it rain on us, however it seemed to be quite often raining around us. I felt like we existed with a giant forcefield around us ensuring the rain clouds stayed always in the distance. However, this rain forcefield did provide many fabulous opportunities to watch as the storm took on a life of its own and slowly moved across the desert gathering darkness and power.

Endless Sky
I stared out the window trying to figure out why the Mongolian sky seemed so different; unique and larger than life. After much thought I came to the conclusion that in NYC or Saigon or most of the places I’ve ever lived, you have to look up to see the sky. You have to make a special effort to view it as it’s normally such a small percentage of our overall view. However in the flat, treeless Gobi, the sky was now about 70% of my view and it was straight in front of me. I felt as if I were in one of those round-about theatres where everywhere you looked was clouds. When the sky is constantly within your line of sight, it takes on this vastness that you could feel; and this is what I’ll remember most about the Mongolian landscape.

To Queue or not to Queue…a heated subject in Asia!

While in Mongolia I was able to test a theory of mine:

Queues don’t exist in Asia

I thought I was on the right track to proving it when I arrived at the Ulanbatar airport and saw the immigration ‘free for all’. A small room with a hundred or so people just in mass pushing their way up front with no regard to queuing. The few tourists, including myself, just sat there dumbfounded, but did our best to push our way towards the immigration desk.

However while driving through the Gobi Desert, my theory was proven wrong! In a desolate land where there are few humans, the animals have seemed to figured out the benefits of queuing!
Enjoy!

Travel in the Gobi

During my Gobi Desert travels I experienced all sorts transportation; some more enjoyable than others. True to the Ger to Ger vision, we mainly traveled as the locals did unless we had really far distances to cover. I found the whole experience fascinating as some of the old nomadic ways of travel had evolved into more modern nomadic travel.

The Mongolian Super Highway

Bus:
As soon as we traveled 35 minutes outside of Ulanbatar, the pavement disappeared and there was nothing but dirt for the next 12 days. I was honestly surprised and a bit scared when I realized this was it – the end of infrastructure. The little bubble of infrastructure around Ulanbatar was so small, what in the world was I in for now? The bus now traveled at peak speeds along the Mongolian dirt super hi-way…a bunch of tracks branching off going every which way like a maze. 

ZZZZZzz

by the constant bumps and sways on the uneven ‘hi-way’. In fact, within about 20 minutes the whole bus seemed to be sleeping but us!  The bus made one stop in a small encampment where everyone piled off the bus and went out into the barren desert and relieved their bladders. This was my first exposure to the Mongolian ‘openess’ (aka kiss privacy goodbye). Let me remind you, we were in the desert; there were no trees, no big rocks, no hills – nowhere to hide. I watched the lineup of women about 40 ft. away from the bus squatting and peeing in plain sight and thought about how quickly I would have to shed my own culture to survive.

Horses rest in the sun - no water here!

Horse:
There’s something notably different about Mongolian horses; unlike the people, they are small. They actually look like the size of ponies. Don’t be fooled by their size though because like everything in Mongolia, they are strong. We did a 15k horse journey one day in order to arrive at our next ger and it was full of surprises. To begin with,  I was surprised at how small and uncomfortable the saddle was. Mongolians use wooden saddles and like their horses, the saddles are also miniature. As we took off into the vast Gobi Desert waving goodbye to our last hosts I looked at what was ahead of me – absolutely nothing.  Just me, my travel partners, and our Mongolian host trotting through miles and miles of nothing. The only shade we had was provided by the large clouds that would periodically pass overhead. Riding in these extreme nothingness conditions felt surreal; was I really here, or was I dreaming this? Once again, a moment where I had to pinch myself.

Modern Nomad

Motorcycle:
I didn’t actually ride a motorcycle, however my stuff was frequently transported by motorcycle. In fact, the motorcycle was the modern Mongolian herder’s horse. Many times off in the distance I would see a herd of animals be rounded up by their herder…on a motorcycle. I wondered if John Wayne were still alive and making movies, would he be on a motorcycle now? Considering the massive distances families sometimes had to travel to get to their ‘neighbors’ or a town, I actually think that having motorcycles is quite a good idea for them.

The projectile camel!

Camel/Horse Cart:
Many times the herders would throw all of our bags onto a old wooden cart, with a blanket and place a camel or horse at the front and off we went to the next ger. I actually preferred this mode of travel as it was more comfortable than the wooden horse saddle and I was able to take pictures at the same time as we slowly rode across the desert. However, I’ve never been a huge fan of camels and this trip solidified that feeling. One of the camels we took wasn’t too terribly happy with his duty and decided to ‘doody’ all over our cart and us…projectile camel shit. Needless to say, we walked the rest of the way while the camel and our hosts slowly rode along without us! I’m positive that this was one of these cultural divides as we walked the remaining 6k and the Mongolians continued to ride on the cart with our luggage wondering why we didn’t find the shit experience as funny as they did.

Desert Mechanic

Jeep:
Many times we had to cover some pretty massive distances and that’s when we went modern…by Jeep. However, before you get the image of LandRovers or Hummers in your head…let me remind you where we were…Mongolia. We were transported by Russian Jeep; old, heavy resembling a tank and riding like one too. Many of the jeeps we rode in had padding on the ceiling, for good reason. The jeep rides were long and hard, bumpy, hot, and dirty; but it was better than the camel shit! Actually, we had a great time in the Jeep. Our driver, Shat (short for Shatarbaatar) was the best. He entertained us by constantly saying he was sorry when he went over a bump that sent us airborne (which was a frequent occurrence), he played Mongolian music, and best of all he would stop whenever I wanted a picture or video!

His English was actually better than most of the people we encountered, plus he had a dictionary in his visor always ready at our disposal. We finished our trip by driving 400 km with Shat through the

Shat, Me, and Natalie take a rest from the bumpy ride

Gobi back to Ulanbatar; the scenery was stunning. However the bone jarring ride was hell for 10 hours – yes, 10 hours. It felt as if I was on an old wooden roller coaster all day; it was too much of a good thing! This was some of the most difficult and exhausting travel I had ever done; my whole body ached.

Pit Crew:
I would be amiss if I didn’t mention the Mongolians amazing mechanical aptitude. In every form of transportation I mentioned we had a mechanical glitch at some point or another (I’m counting the camel shit as a glitch). I’ve decided that if I ever become a race car driver, I’m hiring Mongolians for my pit crew; I’ve never seen people change a tire so fast! In our trip – we had 4 flat tires; 2 the first day within 30 minutes of each other! One of our flat tires was actually on the motorcycle transporting our bags and we were on horseback. Here we were, stuck in the desert as our Mongolian hosts did something I’ve never seen before;

Fixing a flat tire with string

they fixed a flat tire with a piece of shoestring. They found the hole and wound the string so tight around it that it could hold air again.  It was a temporary fix, but it allowed us to get back on our horses and be on our way. At one point on our way back to Ulanbatar we had mechanical trouble and Shat pulled out this tray of nuts and bolts, disappeared under the hood, and soon we were back on the road. Plus, I loved the fact that Shat carried a roll of duck tape on his gear shift…you never know when you might need to tape the engine together! The great thing about the breakdowns and flat tires is that is gave us another opportunity to get out and survey our surroundings; as one of my favorite songs says, “There’s beauty in the breakdown.”

Navigation:
In a land with no roads, signs, landmarks or even a tree I was amazed that we weren’t wandering aimlessly in the desert; miraculousy our host always found our destination. Much like Elmer Fudd hunts for wabbits, we had to hunt for 2 tire tracks going in a direction that was relatively correct (this part was determined by the sun and shadows I believe!) I was fascinated with the jeep navigation; we’d be going for 30 km following 2 tire tracks and then we’d suddenly lose them.

Watch Out! For What?

We’d zig zag around the desert aimlessly looking for another set to follow. During this time I was normally doing a mental checklist of how much water and food I had with me and if I knew any survival skills for surviving in the desert. After doing this day after day, I have to admit that I actually got pretty good at finding tracks and pointing them out occasionally to try to help out Shat! One of the funiest moments was coming across this one sign in the desert. For 10 days we hadn’t seen a single sign until this exclamation point – I was so tickled by it that I made Shat stop so I could take a picture; he of course thought I was crazy.

Whichever way your cross the desert; camel, horse, by foot, cart, motorcycle, bus, or jeep I can guarantee you it will be an adventure you’ll never forget!

Yet another flat tire

Comfortable? No, not really!