Undur Har Mountains of Mongolia
The trek began in the Undur Har Mountains which are about 7,000 feet above sea level. Horses and a supply truck supported the trek.
Some of our group took turns riding horses. Mongolian horses are short, stocky and strong. "Ex-Marine" rode one day when his leg was sore, but never realized that their saddles were quite different from ours. The saddle had a short metal piece on the back - right where you sit - that rubbed and took a big section of skin off his backside. (He couldn't understand why he was so uncomfortable during his ride!)
The terrain was rolling hills without any steep inclines, through pastures and meadows, past nomadic encampments. It was very easy walking.
The hospitable Mongols would invite a few people to come and drink Mare's milk with them. Two of our group, took them up on the invitation, and were deathly sick the next day!
Most of trek took place between 4,000-6,000 feet and averaged 10-12 miles per day.
One night, we tented near the Mogoit River which eventually fed into Lake Baikal in Siberia. (Lake Baikal holds one-fifth of the world's fresh water.)
There was always wine with dinner and time to chat before turning in. The tents were in close proximity to each other (depending upon the terrain and amount of level ground), which could create problems. One evening, the woman in the tent next to us was snoring up a storm. (You certainly can't walk over to someone's tent and poke them, or say..."turn over, for heaven's sake.") There was only one thing to do...move our tent. I woke "ex-Marine" (who could sleep through an explosion)..."wake up, I can't sleep because '......' is snoring, we have to move the tent." Him, lots of curses..."what do you mean we have to move the *#*#*#*** tent?" Me..."Help me move the tent...". After a loud argument (snoring person slept through this), I threw the duffel bags out of the tent, and got the camp crew to help move the tent, f....a....r.... away! Our crew only spoke Mongolian, but I used gestures and snorts to get the message across. The next morning, Mother and daughter were laughing hysterically - they had heard the entire argument and seen the move from THEIR tent. By the way, the "snorer" had kept them up too. The trials and tribulations of camping.
Each day was the same routine. Up for breakfast....
head on out across pasturelands, across rivers, past more nomad villages until we reached the last Ger camp by Taikhar Rock.
The trek was almost over...
