The base camp was only about 40 minutes from the airport, but that's way out in the country. We drove off the paved road onto some tire tracks through the fields then drove another mile and there we were. About 8 gers (yurts), in a little valley between two hills. Some horses tied up. No other houses or people in sight. I took off about 2 hours later with a guide whose name, you guessed it, I can't remember. The horses were great. Always ready to trot or gallop and there was no word from the guide about safety or technique. There didn't seem much to say about how you should ride. This week I managed to stay on the saddle. We rode for about 4 hours. Saw two guys on horses herding sheep and cattle. No roads, not even dirt roads. Not a single fence or house. There wasn't even a trail to ride on – just road through the grass over the hills and valleys. I saw a fox. We stayed the first night at their friend's ger. I camped. There were about 10 older people in this ger, mostly people from the city visiting the three who lived there. I had two shots of vodka and a cup of fermented horse milk in the first 5 minutes. A lot of singing going on. There was meat hanging all around. They'd been butchering a sheep. I watched them milk the horses. They used the colts to get the mothers to start milking. I had rice with horse milk and sugar for dinner. I had more vodka first thing the next morning.
The next day we rode for another 4 hours or so and went back to the camp. It was pretty leisurely. The camp had a motorcycle and binoculars and they'd ride out and find us to bring lunch or the tent and sleeping bag. I stayed in the ger at the camp that night. The American guy, only other tourist there, was cool. He'd grown up in Alaska near Kennecott Glacier, went to Utah State to play hockey,dropped out after his first year and went into the Marines, did three tours in Iraq and when he was almost done with his third got hit by a bomb launched into their compound. Messed up his arm, back and stomach. He seemed mostly OK. But had bought his ticket to Mongolia the day he failed his medical exam to go back for another round. He'd been living in San Diego working part-time at REI and guiding sea kayak trips. That's exactly the kind of guy he looked like – didn't seem at all military.
The third day I rode out with another guide about 4 hours to a national park. I saw two other people in the whole place. They had a museum and the care taker came out of his tent to open it for me. Part of the park was the site of an old Buddhist compound. At one point there were about 300 lamas living there. It was like a village built into the hills. But apparently the Russians tore it all down in the 1930s. The Mongolians rebuilt one of the buildings and left the ruins of the others. The highlight of the day: I saw a wolf. He was eyeing some cows. One of the guys from the camp rode out on the motorcycle, made dinner (in a big pot over a camp fire, no pressurized gas for them), camped, made breakfast, then rode the motorcycle back. We took most of the 4th day going back over the hills. I slept in the ger at the base camp. I was asleep early every night. With nothing but time to read can you believe I managed to forget a headlamp or reading light? And a water bottle. And a warm hat.
The 5th day three other Americans came out for a one-day ride. They'd all graduated from Occidental College in LA two years ago. (One of them said it was great to see someone my age out doing a vacation like this. Amazing.) The four of us went out riding with the same guide. We rode for about 5 hours and circled around to the same friends' ger I'd been to on the first day. Good last day. I was reading Celine's Journey to the End of the Night while we were taking it easy. It's a great book. Much lighter than the one I'd read the first few days,Under the Volcano. I stayed that night in a hotel in the capital city, Ulan Bator. Not the most charming place, but worth seeing it. Totally different from the country. The women are all dressed up. It's like Japan but with Russian buildings falling down, cars all over the roads, and everything a mess. I found a Cuban place and ate juevos rancheros, then went to a coffee shop run by a guy from Amsterdam. I checked out a Buddhist temple the next morning, then was off to the airport.
A great trip. If you ever want to go horseback riding in Mongolia, here's my recommendation:
1 comment:
I read these posts in reverse order. All those years of cowboy talk, and now look. You're living up to the costume. It's great to see an old man like you out riding horses with the youngsters just out of college. Too bad you didn't bring that huge pile of outdated New Yorkers to read (oh yeah--and a reading light.) Looks like you had a great trip.
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