Mongolia, Part 3: Hiking and riding in the Altai

Tom on a horse

OK, I will get this one out of the way early. I rode about half the trek, partly because of river crossings and mucky valley bottoms where the option was filling up my hiking boots with wet stuff, and partly because at the higher elevations I was running out of breath and holding everyone else up. (We crested a col at 10,200 feet before dropping to about 8,200 for the night, then camped two nights on the moraine at about 10,100). 

So do I look comfortable? I did get comfortable, eventually, because Bucko was pretty laid back. (Maybe they sedated him? I am sure the horses for the Westerners were carefully selected to be semi-comatose.) The Australian-style saddles were a big help; Eddie says the Kazakh saddles are murder. (Photo courtesy Lorraine).

The crew

And speaking of Eddie, I should present the folks who worked so hard to make this the great trip it was. In the first picture (courtesy Lorraine): Eddie, Carbai and Dosjan at the lunch table; in the second picture, Mel and Eddie at a different lunch stop; in the third picture, Carbai on his horse, completely in his element, keeping an eye on us as we move out one morning.

Finally here is the entire support team lined up at the end of the trek as we were loading up for the return drive to Ulgii. All told there are about 6 camel herders, three horsemen who rode with us, about 4 cook staff and helpers (Alex stands out as the only African in the group), and the rest are general labour for grooming and saddling our 16 horses every morning as well as their own horses, putting up and taking down the cook tent, mess tent and sleeping tents, as well as digging the pit latrines and any other general duties required to keep our little caravan on track. Many of the younger ones are learning English and it is doubtful how many will be nomadic herders like their parents. They shared a warm round of applause and (more importantly) a sizable tip in US$ from their Western clients. 

Next photo: Carbai is first from left, Dosjan 4th, and Alex next to last.

The trek

After two days at the southern end of Khoton Nuur, we moved to the head of the lake. (Click on the photos of the maps to view them full-screen; this will work better on a big computer screen than on a phone.) I'll spare you lots of text as the photos are quite effective. 

A beautiful day along the lake, following our camel train. Most important was keeping the lunch camel in view.



A happy rider and a rickety bridge over glacial runoff.





Next day we hiked up a canyon, Tsagaan Us Gol.

Cool breezes, larch forests and fields of alpine flowers make this very different from the hot and dry steppes.





Lydia posing in a field of wild onions and assorted alpine flowers.





Physically the most demanding day was the hike from about 7,200 feet to a pass at 10,200. I brought up the rear with Mel who kept an eagle eye on me as I counted 100 steps, then stopped to get my breath back and my heart rate down before tackling the next 100 steps. I rode the rest of the day to camp at 8,200 feet. 

Here I am putting a stone on the cairn at the col before we started to get a bit of weather -- ice pellets which turned to light drizzle. This all cleared up pretty quick, though, and was the only really bad daytime weather we encountered the whole trip.



Next day we hiked to a camp site by the river coming from the glacier. 

Will strikes a pose.



Finally we hike (I rode) to Base Camp at 10,200 feet where we spent two nights overlooking the glacier. Spectacular!

The ridge running from centre to upper left is the five peaks of the Tavan Bogd, which means Five Prophets or Five Saints. On the far right of the photo is Malchin Peak; the ridge denotes the border with Russia. Four of our group climbed the ridge to about 12,500 feet. Weather was closing in and the wind on the ridge picked up so they wisely turned back before reaching the summit at 13,290 feet. Between Malchin and Tavan Bogd, behind the little triangular peak sticking out of the glacier, is the tri-point with China and Russia.



Mist off the glacier never turned to rain.



This picture provides a better view of Malchin and the Russian frontier on the right.



Last hiking day is down to the ranger station where we will meet our 4X4s for the drive back to Ulgii. It's over :( 

Eddie and our horses; we haven't seen herds of animals for a couple of days; a happy rider.

Overall

What a pleasure it was to see this part of the world and meet Carbai's extended family of Kazakh nomads before the place is overrun with tourists. As it is, travelers on the Who Knew (Hunnu) Air flight to Ulaan Baatar and the Air China flight to Beijing the next day were overwhelmingly Westerners with backpacks -- where the backpackers trek today, the luxury glamping folks will follow, and that means one of the major impediments to getting there (the state of the roads) will get sorted out, allowing all sorts of people to wander in. These people won't put up with bad roads, and they certainly won't put up with open air pit latrines, even if the views are superb. This is economically good from a development standpoint, but ... 

The trip certainly got me out of my comfort zone, but not too far out! At least there was no wildlife actively trying to kill me. It will be hard to top this.

Appendix: Comparison with Iceland

Don't laugh, there is a lot in common: 

• Both countries have wide flat plains bordered by rugged mountains. These plains are grasslands, gravel and sand in shades of grey, green and brown in Mongolia; black lava fields in Iceland (although we encountered at least one lava field in Mongolia).
• Neither country has much in the way of trees or bushes to hide behind if, as the saying goes, you need to see a man about a horse. Iceland has rocks to hide behind, but Mongolia largely does not.
• Traffic will grind to a halt in both countries because of livestock lying around on main roads. Livestock roam freely around the whole of both countries. Iceland only has sheep; in Mongolia just about every domestic animal can be found loose wandering around on the highway: dogs, cows, horses, sheep, goats, camels, even yaks. Mongolian drivers just plow into the herds with horns blaring, and this approach seems to clear the road fairly effectively.
• Lots of roads which are marked on the maps are in fact of very poor quality, typically involving fords over streams. In Iceland they maintain these roads to a certain degree; in Mongolia if there is a muddy bit, people start going around with the result that you have multiple routes across a prairie. Picking the right one is an art because you can wind up in a gully or gulch and have to back track; also the erosion and soil compaction due to acres of road where a single lane would do must be significant. 
• Lots of 4X4 vans full of tourists. In Iceland these are jacked-up Land Rovers, Mercedes Benz mini-buses or Ford F350 Expeditions on high-flotation tires (for crossing glacial muck); in Mongolia it is modern Japanese or Korean SUVs or 4X4 vans on military-style off-road tires, or crude Russian UAZ-452 vans. Hint: stay away from the Russian vans.
• Icelandic ponies are genetically related to Mongolian ponies. Iceland strictly prohibits importation of horses in order to preserve genetic purity of the Icelandic pony, but Mongolian horses are cross-bred at times with imports. Both are sturdy little animals designed to survive difficult winters.
• Doors with low lintels! I have several new bumps on my admittedly hard head to prove this.
• Iceland is just beginning to deal with a tourist boom. Mongolia’s boom is coming, too, as us baby boomers avoid places like Egypt which used to be 'safe' but are now full of nutbars with guns.
• Currencies with lots of zeroes: To convert Icelandic Krona to Canadian dollars, take off two zeros; to convert Mongolian Tugrik, take off three zeros and divide by two. 

Mongolia, Part 2: The Altai and the Kazakh minority

A little geography to start with

(and no, there won't be a test)

At its far Western end, Mongolia shares a border with Russia and China. The so-called tri-point, where the three countries meet, is on a mountain top surrounded by a glacier high in the Altai mountains. Along the border area, Mongolia has created the Altai Tavan Bogd National Park which includes the highest point in Mongolia: Khuiten Peak, at 4374 metres (14,364 ft). 

While ethnic Kazakhs are a minority in Mongolia, they are a majority in the Altai. And the tri-point between Russia, China and Kazakhstan is only 40 km to the west; the traditional Kazakh lands also cover parts of Russia and Western China. Our trip within the Altai, arranged by Tusker, took place entirely in the park (click here), and brought us into very close contact with the Kazakh population. 

Getting to the Altai

We meet a number of our travelling companions in Ulaan Baatar for a couple of meals and some cultural events (museum tours and an evening of music by the Mongolian National Orchestra). Mel Kaida is tour leader with Tusker; Tusker's founder is Eddie Frank and he will meet us in the Altai. There are 13 clients: 4 Canadians and 9 Americans; at least 6 have previously climbed Kilimanjaro with Tusker. 

The next morning we head to the airport for the flight to Ulgii (click here). This involves a three hour flight on a modern Fokker 50 turboprop operated by Hunnu Air. (I am very glad it wasn't a creaky old Tupolev). From the air, the country is huge, with lots of desert becoming increasingly mountainous as we head west. Flying appears to be the only real way of getting here as the 1750 km road to Ulaan Baatar is not entirely paved; in Canada we would put on the cruise control and cover 1750 km in 15 to 18 hours of driving, but anecdotally Ulgii to Ulaan Baatar is more like 60 hours of driving (two and a half days, driving day and night).

We are met at the airport by our Kazakh guide, Dosjan (spelling unsure) who has worked with Tusker for 10 years on this trek. 

Ulgii (Өлгий, elevation 5600 feet) is a tidy town of about 30,000 with paved streets, and looks more prosperous than other towns we have seen, such as Kharkhorin. Kazakhs are Muslims at birth, but as one Kazakh explained to me, they are Muslim 'lite': there are few headscarves visible on the street, alcohol is freely available in the supermarkets, and the mosque is not exactly the centre of the community. 

We stay in a ger camp on the outskirts of Ulgii. The drive to the first campsite takes several hours in 4 Land Cruisers and involves the now-familiar goat tracks and river crossings. Entering the park requires stopping at a military checkpoint for passport verification, to ensure that our passports match the list provided by Tusker in the permit application. (There will be two more passport checks along the way). Given the proximity to the borders with China and Russia, entering the park requires obtaining a permit ahead of time, and being accompanied by a Kazakh guide, so you can't just drive up to the gate and ask to be let in. 

Meeting Kazakh herders and their families

First night is at the southern end of Khoton Nuur (Хотон нуур, Khoton Lake) at about 6600 feet. The map below, which Eddie said was unobtainable but which Lorraine and I found in the airport bookstore as we were leaving Ulaan Baatar to return home, shows the park, and the tip of the knife blade shows the approximate location of the camp. (The red lines are borders with Russia and China; the yellow lines are the park borders within Mongolia. Thin orange lines are 'roads'.) 

What a gorgeous spot! Here we meet Eddie, our horse master Carbai (spelling unsure), our various horses and camels, and the support crew including about 16 Kazakhs and Eddie's favourite cook, Alex, who he met during trips to Kilimanjaro. (Alex quickly becomes everyone's favourite cook as the meals were excellent, all the more so considering everything was packed in on camels). Total is 15 Westerners, about 18 support staff, 12 camels, and horses for everybody. Quite the caravan. 

We spend two nights here. We go for a short hike/ride to get used to our horses and to stretch our legs. The highlight is a visit to Carbai's family ger, followed by a lake-side demonstration of traditional Kazakh horsemanship: a horse race, picking up a small pebble while leaning out of the saddle at a gallop, and a game of tug-of-war between two mounted horsemen. People come from many of the surrounding ger camps to participate, either as contestants or to cheer them on, and a good time was had by all. Kazakhs obviously enjoy this sort of thing very much, and the prize money put up by Tusker for top three finishers in each event was gravy. The close interaction with the Kazakh people, their warmth, their pride in their culture, was probably the highlight of the trip from my perspective. Tusker has obviously built a strong relationship with this particular group. A few photos follow: 

Boy racers. Many rode bareback. One tough guy was learning to spit properly.

Discussing the odds? Kazakh men at the start of the event.

Boy on a foal. Start them both early! Herding requires good horsemanship.

And they're off! The 'track' was laid out with a couple of 4WDs and a motorbike as cornerposts, and probably covered at least a mile. 8 laps meant quite the workout for all concerned -- this isn't a quarter-mile county fairground track.

The ladies posed for a picture. 

There were plenty of kids running around too. Diana, Sharon and Kristin with some of the locals.

Makes 52-pickup look easy. Unlike the race, where a fast horse and a light jockey are critical, a short sturdy horse and a big guy with long arms make for winning conditions. 

In this particular round of tug-of-war, both fellows managed to stay on their horses. For a Kazakh, falling off your horse is a major blow to the ego! Ultimately the fellow in green let go of the prize, an empty 50-lb bag of flour, thus giving the win to his competitor. (Apparently the traditional object being tugged on is a goat's carcass, but no goats were harmed in this particular contest). 

Like I said, get them on a horse early!

The happy contestants pose for pictures. All the horses worked hard but they also looked very well treated -- not cooped up in barns but allowed to graze after the 'work day' is done.

The next day, a quartet of little girls turned up from one of the surrounding ger camps, to sing songs and do little dances in exchange for popcorn. (I can't imagine Western parents allowing girls to wander around the countryside unaccompanied like this -- the nearest camp had to be a couple of kilometres away.) What a bunch of cuties! I predict the ringleader, in blue, will be a handful in a few years. As we leave the next morning, one of the girls returns to give us a bottle of warm mare's milk which we give to our Kazakh support staff. 

Part 3 (which will be the last one) will cover the trek to the base of the glacier at the Chinese-Russian-Mongolian border. Stay tuned!

Mongolia, Part 1: Ulaan Baatar and the Mongol homelands

Outline

This and subsequent posts will outline my Mongolian adventures in the land of Chinggis Khaan, June 25-July 17 2017.

I signed up for this with my friend Lorraine for two reasons: I have always been fascinated by the Mongol empire created by Genghis Khan (now spelled Chinggis Khaan), and the fact that the tour organisers, Tusker Trails of Nevada, are well-known providers of safe but exotic outings.

Chinggis Khaan wasn't such a bad fellow, now was he?

Chinggis Khaan (Чингис хаан, 1162-1227) is well known in the West as a blood-thirsty genocidal maniac. Furthermore, DNA evidence suggests that at least 16 million Eurasian men today are descended from a single male ancestor who lived in Eastern Mongolia towards the end of the 12th century. However, it is possible to look at his legacy from a different perspective. His approach to conquest was to lay siege to a city and demand surrender; those who opened the gates and let him in were spared the slaughter and had the opportunity to become part of the broader empire. Those who resisted were indeed decimated, and survivors often wound up as captives, but there was no explicit attempt to eradicate any one racial or religious group. Furthermore, his soldiers were not allowed to loot, pillage or rape uncontrolled; instead booty was collected, counted, and distributed evenly. (And yes, 'booty' probably included young girls, witness the DNA record). And finally there is no evidence or record of systematic torture such as used by Crusaders and Inquisitors: people who resisted were put to death in an orderly fashion much as diseased cattle might be. Chinggis actually welcomed representatives of all faiths and races in his world; his capital Karakorum had Chinese, Muslim and Christian quarters as well as Buddhist temples. Furthermore, he made the stunning decision that Empire required written documents, and forced the adoption of a modified Uighur script to serve the purpose of accounting for fair distribution of said booty. (No other illiterate conqueror realised so clearly the need for a written record of transactions if his conquests were to endure as an empire). So while he was arguably a man of his times, using typical 12th and 13th century methods for conquering and uniting warring tribes, he was hardly an early-day genocidal maniac focused on eradicating specific groups of people or subjugating them by torture. 

In any case he is revered by Mongolians who have renamed the international airport in his honour, and who will proudly tell you that 2017 is the 811th year of the Great Mongol Empire. 

Ulaan Baatar

We spent several days in the Mongolian capital, Ulaan Baatar (Улаанбаатар) over three separate dates. The city is Asian, but not as intense as others such as Bangkok, partly because the population is relatively small: somewhere between 1.3M and 2M depending on who you talk to. There are no hordes of cyclists, mopeds or scooters, nor is the city overrun with oxen, cows, horses or other animals. What it is overrun with is used imported Japanese cars with RHD, including a very large number of Priuses. 

The centre of town is Sukhbaatar Square. In 1921, Sukhbaatar estimated that the problems facing Mongolians were all due to the Chinese (who had invaded in 1919), capitalism and religion. He drove out the Chinese (who are still mistrusted today), abolished religion and brought in a Russian style of communism. This made Mongolia the second communist country after the Soviet Union. Among the changes that followed were the introduction of a modified Cyrillic alphabet to replace the ancient Uighur-based script, and the demolition of a substantial portion of the Buddhist temples in the country. Today the country is a democracy, but Mongolians still feel closer to Russia than China, and the statue of Sukhbaatar on a horse still dominates the square. 

The Mongolian parliament faces the square and features a massive statue of Chinggis. People stop here for photos related to important events such as weddings.  

Overall Ulaan Baatar is a surprisingly modern city. It has a reputation for very poor air quality, which was not a problem when we were there, but which is a problem in the winter when the ger towns on the outskirts heat with whatever fuels they can get their hands on -- animal dung, wood, coal, old tires. At times the particulate emission ratings are off-scale.

Central Mongolian steppes

For the first week of our trip, Kazakh Tours hired a driver, a middle-aged fellow named Tuuru, and a guide, a young lady named Nomin, to show us around. Tuuru came with a big Toyota Land Cruiser and a cowboy attitude towards obstacles on the road, such as other cars, herds of cattle or pedestrians. His approach was to stay on the throttle while blowing the horn. Miraculously we didn't hit anything. 

Speaking of cars, the countryside has much fewer Priuses, but lots of 4X4 vehicles. This is due to the state of the roads, about which more later. Vehicles are of two types: late-model Japanese or Korean SUVs and 4X4 minivans, or Russian vehicles of indeterminate vintage made by UAZ. The UAZ-452 van in particular is quite popular although we were told that riding in one is particularly hellish. This one was decorated with a grille ornament taken from a well-known Western manufacturer... I sense a copyright infringement suit if this becomes well known.

Also note the large public TV screen in downtown Ulaan Baatar, featuring a Microsoft warning about a virus. Some things are constants no matter where you go.

The trip with Turuu and Nomin focused mainly on the steppes to the west of Ulaan Baatar, with the ancient city of Karakorum the objective. Along the way we ride camels in an area of sand dunes reminiscent of the Gobi (although unconnected to it). The land is flat and the expected long wavy grass is missing due to a very dry winter and spring. This has been hard on the livestock that roam freely everywhere, including on the highway. (Look closely at the photo and you will see a lone camel, centre right, making its way across the steppe). 

Outside Karakorum, we stay at the Dreamland Resort, a ger camp founded by Dolgorsurengiin Dagvadorj (Долгорсүрэнгийн Дагвадорж) who is famous as the first Mongolian to become a sumo champion. Photos graced the walls of the dining area at the camp, one showing him with his brothers and father (all well-respected Mongolian wrestlers) and another showing him in his prime as sumo wrestler. 

What a handsome bunch of fellows! Dolgorsurengiin is on the far left with Dad in the middle. At least one of his brothers is now a respected parliamentarian.

 

His sumo career was cut short as he was not very good at maintaining the level of decorum expected of a sumo wrestler. The photo illustrates the attitude problem that got him in trouble. 

Karakorum (Хархорум)

This is touted as Chinggis's capital city, but while he selected the location and probably camped here regularly, it seems he didn't live to see it built. His son, Ogodei, laid the cornerstone some years after his death, and his grandson, Kublai, moved the capital to what is now Beijing by the end of the 13th century. Nonetheless the city remained a commercial centre and important crossroads for several centuries before being abandoned. A nearby Buddhist monastery complex, Erdene Zuu, was built in 1586, partly from stones quarried from the ruins. Unfortunately there is nothing to see today of the city, although there is a very good museum nearby. 

There is an excellent monument on a hill overlooking the Orkhon River valley and the nearby modern city of Kharkhorin. Here the river flows out of the central mountains and into the grasslands. One can imagine Chinggis and his hordes camping here as they consolidated the various warring Mongolian tribes and planned the expansion of the Mongol Empire westwards. The photo shows the Orkhon River winding its way to the plain. 

The modern 'city' of Kharkhorin looks quite poor with muddy lanes and ratty fences hiding compounds that, seen from a height, seem to be as ratty as the fences. It is hard to see what the economic activity in the city might be.

Leaving Kharkhorin, we have our first of several off-road experiences. The 'road' (actually a goat track) to the Orkhon River waterfall involves several rivers that can be crossed on rickety bridges, or, more commonly and safely, by fording in a suitable spot. Here is where the 4X4 drive and Tuuru's skills come in handy. (Later we see a van whose driver underestimated the capabilities of his vehicle, or perhaps his own as a driver). 

On the way back to Ulaan Baatar, we stay with a family of nomads who feed us a delicious hot pot (meat and potatoes cooked in a pot with hot stones from the fire). Animals are wandering around loose and I once again bang my head on the low lintel of the ger. Ouch!

Turkic history

The Turks come from here, too. In another museum, artifacts exhumed from 6th and 7th century Turkic burial sites are exhibited. The whole complex was paid for by the Turkish government, who probably also paid for the excellent 30 km highway leading to it. Later we come across a battlefield site of about the same vintage where a fallen leader is buried with his men, each standing stone representing 10 soldiers. At a guess the site commemorates the deaths of at least 500 men. 

Przewalski's horse

It seems there are only seven wild horse species out there, of which three are zebras and three are asses. The seventh is the takhi, or Przewalski's horse, which has been reintroduced from zoo stock to its native Mongolian hillsides. (Other so-called 'wild' horses are actually descended from domestic horses that escaped and went feral -- the takhi is genetically distinct from the domestic horse). We are given a tour of Hustai national park by a keen young Mongolian, Tushig, who speaks excellent English and is working on a degree in eco-tourism. I suspect he will do well. We are lucky enough to see a group of about 6 takhi from a distance. They are characterised by short manes and a stubby head. There are now several thousand of them running wild in Mongolia, all descended from about 9 specimens captured for zoos early in the 20th century. 

Cult of personality run amok?

Turuu has found a CD of Toto Cutugno in his glove box and we are treated to what I will forever think of as bombastic Italian wedding music as we head east of Ulaan Baatar to a new, 40 metre high stainless steel statue of Chinggis Khan. There is lots of bombast on display here, too. For about $1.50 you can take an elevator up the hindquarters and walk out onto the horse's mane. My vertigo keeps me inside. Below the museum is a bit thin on content, but is being expanded; the best part is a series of striking bronze statues outside. 

Back in Ulaan Baatar, we have a couple of days on our own before meeting up with the Tusker gang. This will be recorded in Part 2 of this post. Hopefully you have enjoyed reading so far; stay tuned as it only gets better!