Hello. Have finally got round to finishing the blog. The last three weeks in Mongolia were amazing and some of the most exciting and memorable of the trip. After leaving Ulaanbataar on the 17th July we were really excited to be back in the truck and back on the road. After some deliberation and discussion with Nara (our Mongolian translator on the south Gobi trip) we decided to spend the rest of our time in Mongolia exploring the diverse Aimag of Bayanhongor. It meant travelling south-west from the capital (and in the wrong direction to the border we would take with Siberia), but the promise of crystal caves, ancient valleys of petroglyphs and the challenge of overlanding in the Gobi (Bayanhongor is part of the ‘middle Gobi), was too exciting to miss. On the evening of 17th July we camped in the hills above the Millennium Road (a tarmac road which would take us over 600km to the town of Bayanhongor, the Aimag’s capital). On the morning of the 18th we were ridiculously lazy. The South Gobi trip had tired us out, so we spent most of the day in the truck, snoozing and watching DVD’s. When we finally surfaced and drove back down to the road, who was coming towards us; only Dagma and Klaus in their silver Land Rover – the German couple who had shared two road blockades with us in Tajikistan (Khorog) and Kyrgyzstan (Sopu Korgan). It was fantastic to see them! We caught up on their adventures in Mongolia and we marvelled that we had bumped into them in such a massive country as this! Only a few days before we had been there, Dagma and Klaus had even stayed in the same Ger camp as us in the South Gobi (Erdenet) except they had driven there themselves! After a little while chatting, we were suddenly disturbed by the approach of a large white car. A man hopped out and pointed at the Land Rover and the Truck and said ‘How much? Can I buy one of these vehicles?’. It was hilarious! We all laughed and shook our heads and said ‘No’. None of us would be able to get home without the vehicles and our documents didn’t allow us to sell up. After more chatting, the weather turned windy and cold, so we bade farewell to Dagma and Klaus who had also extended their visas and were heading to Kharahorum (the same as us) before heading north to Khovsgol and then to Baikal. We all joked hoping to meet at the border at the same time, or later in Germany (with the promise of Schwartzwolderkirchetorte renewed!). The day almost over, we drove about 50km before heading to the hills once more. Rain and strong winds had set in, and we were still really tired. That night (in the pouring rain) we heard the purr of a motorbike and two nomads appeared outside and knocked on the door of the truck. Ed had the steps down and so invited them in. They were dripping wet but very friendly and as usual, very curious about us and the truck. Soon they were inviting us back to their Ger for the night. They didn’t seem to understand why we wanted to sleep on the side of a mountain in a ferocious gale and torrential rain. Ed managed to deter them and soon they were on their way, only to return 30 minutes later with gifts of aireg and pancakes. It was still pouring outside and pitch black. Ed hopped out to accept the gifts (the ladder now stowed away) and because they were so sweet bringing us presents, I opened the bottle of Chinese Plum wine I had picked up in Russia and poured out some glasses. Soon Ed was throwing a glass to the earth and air (the first drops of alcohol go to nature in Mongolia, as is custom), followed by us toasting each other. They seemed impressed when I shouted ‘Toldor!’ the Mongolian for ‘Cheers’ which we had learned successfully on the South Gobi trip whilst sharing vodka with our group. After a few minutes more chatting, the two men went on their way and we felt happy and accepted to be parked near their Ger’s just down the hill. On the morning of the 19th July we made our way west to the ancient city of Kharahorum, the former capital of Mongolia (before it was moved to Beijing). It was another day of mud and carnage as it rained all day. One section of the Millennium road turned to dirt track and inevitably people started to get stuck in the wet mud! Luckily not us! Very soon we were rescuing a Mongolian Delica full of people. They waved us over and Ed got out and started unwinding the winch. The senior of the family came to greet Ed and help pull out the winch, but it was so muddy and slippey however, I watched aghast as the old man fell into the mud. Ed helped him up and about 5 minutes later we had freed the vehicle from the soft ground. The family were so pleased, they whipped out a tub of clotted cream and donuts and invited us to eat some. The clotted cream was immense (it makes me giggle as Ed does all the rescuing and I still get given free food! Lol). We continued to Kharahorum without spotting anyone else requiring a winch and before entering the town, we decided to ascend the hill above it for the remainder of the day. The driving had been hard going for Ed and we were still tired. It was a bit ropey getting to the top of the hill (and out of sight). We were suddenly in a position where 10 tonnes of truck were sliding down the mountain, Ed couldn’t get any grip on the wet slick soil. Eventually we found some solid ground and stopped in a hollow in the hills. A thick fog descended and all views of Kharahorum disappeared. We were too tired to care however, and settled down for the night. On Sunday 20th July we were greeted by a young lad (around 12 years old) looking smart in a sky blue robe, sat on a large brown horse. Ed jumped out of the truck to greet him and took a photo of him with the Polaroid camera. He seemed a bit spooked by us at first (again I blame the beard) but was happy when Ed handed him the photo. Soon after he disappeared down the mountain. The fog had cleared but it was still a cloudy cool day. Perfect really for exploring Kharahorum. We hoped to visit the old Buddhist Monastery and go in search of food and a possible market. Kharahorum however, turned out to be very small and sleepy. We very easily found the Buddhist Monastery pulling up outside the wall lined with a multitude of Stupas (a white turret in-which statues of Buddha’s and other relics are housed). Opposite the wall was a friendly looking market with stalls and restaurants. As we were parking we spotted Dagma and Klaus’ Land Rover. Obviously they had made it to Kharahorum as well! And there they were, as we walked to the Monastery entrance, they appeared exiting it. We spent a few minutes chatting again, before waving goodbye and entering the Monastery. Inside were several temples (converted to museums housing relics, tapestries and statues). The temples had pretty dark green ceramic tiles and slanted roofs that flick out at the edges (Tibetan-Chinese style). Many of the tapestries depicted strange looking demons and one of the rooms house three giant golden Buddha’s about 10ft tall. We also popped our heads into the ‘active’ part of the Monastery where young Lama’s (monks) were studying before heading back out to the market stalls. We were quite hungry so we decided to frequent one of the small cafes. There was an old lady outside trying to attract business into hers. She had a nice smile and a kindly face, so we opted for her café. Inside it was very small and basic but a lovely family affair. The menu was obviously in Mongolian ‘only’, but luckily for us the young daughter who served us spoke a bit of English. Soon we were tucking in to dumplings and fried pancakes with meat and onion inside accompanied by warm milk tea (the hot beverage of Mongolia). The young daughter practised her English on us while her father sat next to Ed bemused to see foreigners. He mostly beamed and chuckled at us while we ate. It was quite funny. The young daughter explained that she was studying in college but that her sister would very soon be going to a University in Ulaanbataar. It was lovely chatting with her. We tried to explain that we had driven from the UK and we pointed at the truck outside. When we were done, we paid £1.50 each for our lunch before heading back to the truck and into town in search of a supermarket and an ATM. We found one shop selling groceries (but no fresh veg, fruit or produce and managed to pick up bread, pasta, tinned tuna, eggs and dried fruit etc. before heading back out of town and then south towards Bayanhongor. It was a lovely warm sunny afternoon and we had only driven an hour or so out of Kharahorum (still on tarmac roads) when we saw a large lorry (articulated) stuck in the mud some distance from the road. There was a lady standing alongside it urgently waving her arms at us. They obviously needed help. Ed pulled off the road and we headed towards them. The lorry must have been 20T and as we approached we could see that they had dug the wheels out. Metal chains, tyres and bits of wood were strewn everywhere where they had tried to get some grip under the wheels, but they were sunk in too deep. We both hopped out to greet them and I got the video camera out as Ed prepared the winch. Within 5 minutes we had tugged them out and then Ed towed them to firm ground. The wife was so pleased. Soon she had laid her jacket down in the dried mud and insisted I sit on it while she boiled some tea. By the time Ed came over she had whipped out some doughnut cakes and clotted cream indicating for us to eat. She communicated to us that they had been stuck more than 24hrs and had spent the night there and if we hadn’t arrived they were preparing to spend a second night there. Luckily there were some Ger’s nearby that had brought some food over to them. Mongolians definitely look out for each other. The conversation made us acutely aware that if we got stuck in the mud there wouldn’t be anyone to rescue us either. The chances of another 10T truck coming along with a winch was pretty slim. It made it all the more special for us (especially Ed) that we had been around to rescue them. We thanked the lady for the tea and offered to help her and her husband load everything back onto the truck (all the chains, tyres etc. strewn everywhere). Neither of them would let us however, so as we bade them farewell suddenly the lovely wife grabbed pasta, meat, dried fish and curd from their cab and insisted generously that we take them. It was very sweet of her and we accepted, waving goodbye as we re-joined the tarmac road, as usual warmed by our encounter, Ed glowing from his good deed. Faith in humanity is restored every day in Mongolia. The people are so wonderful. By early evening we had diverted off the tarmac road into the grassy steppe hills heading south to a town called Arvayheer. It was wonderful to be on dirt tracks again soaking up the stunning scenery. The sun shone a golden yellow and we kept our eyes peeled for a spot for the night. Soon we were ascending a grassy hill topped with more craggy red rocks. Unlike all the previous grassy steppe we had seen, the grass here was much longer (higher than my knees) and absolutely crammed with wild flowers, this time, very tall flowers popping their heads above the grasses. It was a stunningly beautiful meadow eclipsing anything we had previously seen, alive with crickets and butterflies. We spotted more asters, wild blue delphiniums, dark pink dianthus, red sedums and ox-eye daisies (and they are just the ones I knew the names of). The following morning (Monday 21st July) we explored the top of the crag and took photos of all the wild flowers. It was lovely and we were greeted by more beautiful sunshine and blue sky. After an hour driving down the track however, disaster….. What we feared most. We got stuck in the mud…. We had arrived at a muddy hollow and spotted a spring running down the hill and over the grass. Following the other tyre tracks (through the mud) however, was our undoing. The mud was wet and slick, and we were on a slight uphill gradient. Before the wheels dug us in too deeply Ed stopped the truck. Ed wasn’t too worried, but my brain started to roll over our options if we couldn’t get out of the mud…. We were about 50+km from the last small village we had driven through and probably a similar distance to the main road north of Arvayheer. Worst case scenario we would spend the night in the mud and talk over our options….. Luckily however, Ed had one more card to play, even though there was nothing in sight for us to winch off. Firstly Ed dug out the wheels and tried to get some forward momentum with the grip of the freshly dug ground... It was too slimy and wet. We had to go to Plan B Ed had purchased a ground anchor on ebay (collected from Preston, Lancashire) for less than £20 before we had left the UK. He felt that the price was such a bargain, he threw in a large bottle of Jack Daniels to the seller (Thanks Rick)! There was hope of escape from the mud if we could position the anchor firmly in the ground and winch off it. Soon Ed had dug a hole and he placed the anchor inside. The anchor looks like a bent piece of metal with a shovel shaped head at one end (see pictures). After a few failed attempts Ed realised that I would have to operate the winch (yes I operated the winch!) whilst Ed put all his weight on the anchor to make it dig firmly into the ground. Next, Ed hopped in the cab and I got the film camera out while Ed operated the winch whilst steering the truck. Our team work paid off and very slowly we inched our way forward out of the mud. Amusingly, while we were attempting to rescue ourselves, a Toyota Land Cruiser bearing two locals attempted to drive past us (also through the mud). Within seconds they had also ground to a halt. The silly buggers had got stuck in the mud as well! We thought they were a bit twp (welsh for silly) to have driven alongside us. They must have seen that we were stuck and subsequently the route we had taken was not good! Even more hilariously, they watch us bemused while we gradually made our escape. They must have thought we weren’t getting out as they disappeared into the grassy steppe returning a little while later with arms laden with rocks to place under their wheels for grip. By then we had moved the anchor twice and winched our way some 40m up the muddy slope to freedom, Ed getting out to reposition the anchor with a new hole so we could clear the mud completely. The Toyota Land Cruiser’s further attempts to escape the mud failed however, and by our final winch they were watching us in anticipation as they knew we could pull them out once we made it to firm ground. Just watching the anchor ‘work’ was pure paradise for me, and especially for Ed. He had never used it before and although progress was slow, we eventually escaped the mud! We were left with immense feelings of relief and satisfaction. Similarly our confidence had been boosted a hundred fold as we now had an effective means of escape without having to rely on the slim chance of a +10T truck appearing out of the blue if we got stuck again. Soon we had also tugged out the Toyota Land Cruiser and the two young lads were over the moon. They were initially a bit wary of Ed (the beard is quite frightening to Mongolians….), and we didn’t realise how young they were. Once they were also on firm ground, the young driver whipped out a bottle of Chinggis Khan Vodka (‘Gold’ I might add, not the cheap stuff) and a massive bag of sweets and insisted Ed accept them. It was very sweet and we waved them goodbye as they sped away from the mud. We stared a little while at the distance we had winched ourselves over to freedom. It was an impressive feat and a memory I know Ed will cherish forever as he thrives on such challenges. I could also take some small credit for our escape as this time I also had black muddy feet and legs (I was wearing flip flops), although admittedly Ed did dig ALL of the holes and did about 99% of the work (hehe). I got it all on film though ;p When we finally settled down, now even more grateful to be in Mongolia and continue our adventure, we hopped back in the cab and continued south finally meeting once more with the tarmac Millennium Road that would take us all the way to the town (and Aimag) of Bayanhongor. That night we found a camp spot south of the town of Arvayheer, pulling off the tarmac road towards a disused Corrale. We hid behind a grassy hillock with a wonderfully strong smell of juniper and wormwood in the air as we hopped out of the truck. Ed celebrated with a small glass of the Chinggis Khan Vodka (Gold) to enhance his memory of the events of the day. On Tuesday 22nd July we finally made it to the town of Bayanhongor which was a reasonable size and more bustling and modern than most of the other towns we had seen. They had a very good supermarket stocked with fresh fruit and veg, meat and everything we needed. Subsequently we stocked the truck with supplies ready for our trip to the remote middle Gobi. On entering the town we had spotted a pretty tree lined river, so we made a beeline back to it to camp for the night. As we arrived several locals were washing their cars in the river or simply enjoying the warm evening sunshine. So we could find a nice quiet spot, Ed decided to drive through the river which was split in two by a gravel island dotted with trees. It was perfect. And so with the tinkling of a cool stream out of the truck window we settled down for the night. Sadly however, it was Nadaam in Bayanhongor and from 8pm until the early hours loud music attacked our ears…. We were so used to utter silence at night… We hardly slept….. The following day (Wednesday 23rd July) we decided to take advantage of the lovely stream and do some clothes washing. It was a beautiful sunny day and it also meant we could fill the water tank before heading south to the middle Gobi. By early evening we had dried most of our clothes and so decided to get a few miles in. Heading south of Bayanhongor town, the Millennium Road disappeared into dirt tracks once more. Dark storm clouds rolled in from the north-east and as we ascended the mountain leaving the town far behind us and we were treated to another wonderful rainbow. Our second in Mongolia. The views broadened as we began driving over an undulating plain of short grassy steppe with the occasional weathered remnants of bare rock poking through. We passed several Ger’s and suddenly a gigantic mountain range rose before us on the distant horizon; The Ikh Bogd Range towards which we were headed. The mountains were illuminated by the evening sunlight and glowed a dark red hue ribboned with white streaks. Volcanic in origin, they looked foreboding and epic. We couldn’t wait to get to them. I am not sure if I mentioned this in the last blog but the geological history of Mongolia goes back some 120 million years (I have been doing a little bit of reading). Before Mongolia came into being, various pieces of the earth’s crust (oceanic as well as continental) had to come together to form the country we see today (ref. Mongolian Companion Guide, Odyssey Books). Between Siberia and the (now) northern areas of Mongolia there existed a great sea, which eventually shrunk as the Mongolian continental crust collided with the Siberian Craton. The Siberian Craton (in part) is an ancient continent with rocks dating well into the Pre-Cambrian. Subsequently rocks in northern Mongolia (and southern Siberia) which were thrown up during the Orogenic collision are around 1500 million years old. The southern and western areas of Mongolia are also exciting as some of the oceanic crust was pushed up onto the continental forming an Ophiolite. Subsequently, when the dinosaurs were roaming the land some 120 to 80 million years ago, they lived in a tectonically active land of andesitc lava spitting volcanoes and earthquakes as part of an island arc system. Within the back-arcs and fore-arcs, small seas were created forming sedimentary basins. Subsequently numerous turbiditic deposits are also found in southern Mongolia from undersea landsides and even limestone formed in the warm shallow seas. As the Himalaya were being formed to the south-west and the sea shrunk between northern Mongolia and the Siberian Craton, the pieces of crust that eventually coalesced to form Mongolia were raised leaving the majority of the country 1500m to 2000m above sea level. The Ikh Bogd Mountain Range (to which we were headed) is part of the remnant island arc system which stretches all the way to the Altai Mountains in the west. That evening we finally arrived onto a wide open short grassy plain with scattered hillocks of weathered green rock (possibly schist) with the occasional prominent veins of shiny white opaque quartz running through the landscape. The veins of quartz were several metres thick in places and the overall affect was bizarre. I loved it. Subsequently we pulled off our track and parked the truck behind a large hillock of weathered quartz. It was pure white and glistening in the evening sunshine. Mongolia is full of surprises. On Thursday 24th July we continued south towards the mountains in the direction of a salty lake (Orog Nur) that we knew lay at the foot of the hills. The flat raised plain where we had spent the night eventually descended down into a large flat valley of desert steppe. A pretty (but very slim) river meandered through the centre of it all, the banks of which were dotted with Gers and herds of the five snouts (mostly goats and sheep). We continued on a sandy ridge overlooking the valley and knew that we were entering the realm of the Gobi when we spotted a herd of camels enjoying the warm sunshine. After passing through two small towns (Jinst and Bogd) we eventually followed a track south-west towards the northern shore of Oreg Nur; the salty lake. It was an attractive milky green colour and we stopped for lunch to admire it, before traversing the track along the lakes edge to the southern shore. The track varied from firm dry sand to softer loose material and some areas comprised small dunes covered in long grassy hillocks. All the while, the Ikh Bogd mountain range loomed above us. We could see the rocks almost up close now and they were a wonderful mixture of dark reds, greens and menacing purple black hues. With no dramas we reached the southern shore of the lake and decided to take a track up to the foothills of the mountains to get a closer look, and some 5km later we arrived at the base of the hills. We parked not too far from a stunning stripy feature (which I initially thought was sandstone) with alternating layers of grey, black, red and white. Behind us were sweeping and utterly majestic views of the valley from whence we came with the glinting waters of milky green Oreg Nur below. In the distance we could see large golden sand dunes on the northern eastern shore. The epic scale of the view was something we had become accustomed to in Mongolia, but it never failed to delight the eyes. After a little rest we decided to explore a bit making a beeline for the dark rocks. The truck was parked in a little hollow above a track leading into the mountains behind which yawning black-green and red cliffs opened to reveal a dark atmospheric gorge overhanging the track and I really wanted to walk up it. Unfortunately there was a large official looking yellow sign alongside the track written in Mongolian script and I thought perhaps it translated to ‘Private, No-entry’. Ed thought I was being silly, but I was a bit paranoid that there might be a gold mine up there as it had already been explained to us that a similar mountain range (in the South Gobi) was full of gold. We had been told of stories of shootings (the official mining companies opening fire on the locals trying to thieve the shiny stuff for themselves). Needless to say, I had a feeling of foreboding (perhaps because the path looked like it led to the very gates of Mordor), and so we decided to try and avoid any guerrilla gold thieves and go and explore the stripy rock feature instead. We followed an undulating animal track a little way from the truck and as we were climbing up towards the stripy rock feature Ed waved me over urgently. He had spotted a large wild horned sheep (or possibly it was an ibex) and disappointedly I arrived alongside Ed just in time to see its white and grey bottom bouncing away! Good spot Ed! The stripy feature looked even odder close up and turned out to be various layers of alternating coloured clay, smearing into one another as the material weathered down the face of the cliff. After taking a few photos we turned around to enjoy the view of the lake. All around us were weathered rounded nobbles of sandy brown rock which provided a natural frame for the epic scenery below. A little distance away we could see the truck poking out from its hollow hiding place. It still pleased Ed how much the colour of the truck blended into virtually any landscape and after taking a few more photos we returned to it to settle down for the night. And it was a horrible night….. Not long after we had fallen asleep an almighty wind blew down the foreboding black gorge behind us. The sound was terrifyingly loud and the force of the wind was colossal! It came from nowhere as the previous evening had been sunny and calm and it was soooo loud! The truck was buffeted for hours and occasionally wobbled precariously from side to side and I thought we were going to get blown over! Ed however, was confident that the truck would stay on its four wheels and subsequently he managed to get more sleep than I did…. Finally in the early hours the wind died down and I managed to get some sleep. When we finally got out of bed the following morning I was expecting to see an apocalyptic scene…. But (of course) there weren’t any buildings or trees…. So maybe a few rocks had been blown around (unbeknown to us in the storm… hehe). Subsequently there was no evidence of the night of terror apart from my blurry red eyes and Ed laughing at me for being so scared….. On Friday 25th July we continued to follow the track (bearing east) along the southern shore of Oreg Nur. The track comprised cracked baked silty sand that was all cracked and desiccated in the warm sunshine and occasionally spattered with deep footprints of the five snouts. We were acutely aware that if it rained, the track would disintegrate into a quicksand mud pit that would likely end our trip. Luckily the sun continued to shine and after an hour or so we were passing through an area of proto sand dunes alive with Saxual trees, one of the only species of tree to survive in the Gobi. They are beautiful things, all twisted with age, but not very tall. Because the growing season in Mongolia is so short (June to August) they grow very little each year. Subsequently even the ones we were seeing (around 1.5m to 2m high) were likely to be really old. Apparently they go off like jet fuel when you burn them. The track became more and more sandy and ahead of us it became evident that it had been swallowed up by a glorious five metre high golden sand dune. We came to a halt and Ed got out to look to check the firmness of the ground underfoot. Sand was the enemy because the truck has slim wheels for its weight and we could very easily dig ourselves deeply into the loose material if we happened to drive over a soft area. We made the decision to continue, but if there was ever a moment where the ground looked too risky, we agreed that we would have to turn around (give up on the Gobi) and say that ‘we tried’. We had to be really cautious and create our own new track among the soft proto dunes. Ed regularly got out to check the ground and using our GPS software we (no longer following a mapped track) kept bearing in the correct direction to pick up our original route. I was gritting my teeth throughout all of it and after an hour of eternity the sand disappeared and we found the track we needed to continue south. The mountains of the Ikh Bogd Range lay ahead and we could see a gap within them. It was our intention to pass through the mountains in search of Tsagaan Aguy (The White Cave; because it was made of white marble) for which we had a GPS coordinate (from the Lonely Planet) but unfortunately no mapped track to show us how to get there. A treasure hunt awaited us. We had read that the White Cave was encrusted with crystals and inside, artefacts dating 750,000 years had been discovered. It could not be missed! As we approached the mountains another menacing dark valley gorge appeared ahead of us. The rocks near the entrance were wonderful sandstone hues of dark reds and pink and behind these lay dark volcanic rocks, jagged and epic. It appeared that our track swung to the right but there was another track leading down a narrower gorge of dark rocks along a soft gravel riverbed. We decided to stop at the cross-roads (as it were) and have lunch before exploring the narrow track along the riverbed on foot. We had only been relaxing in the truck for 10 minutes when the wind started to pick up again and looking down the opening of the valley (from where we had driven) the view was now eerily obscured. A sandstorm had appeared from nowhere in the flat plain below where not two hours earlier we had been navigating the proto dunes, and it was whipping towards us with great speed. Ed started filming its approach while I closed all the windows and covered the air vents. Minutes later we watched as a cloud of sand funnelled down the valley towards us and the gust of wind it had brought with it finally forced the truck door closed and Ed had to continue filming through the truck window. It was quite scary and exhilarating at the same time. The wind whistled and howled, and the overall effect (for me) was a strong sense of isolation. The way we had come was now shut. There was no going back (at least for the moment). As we came to realise with the Gobi, the weather changes very quickly and within one hour the sun had returned and any evidence of a sandstorm had disappeared. Subsequently we took the opportunity to do a bit of walking and explore the track leading through the narrow gorge along the riverbed. We had been watching the track and so far had seen two vehicles (a Toyota Land Cruiser and a motorbike) opt for the riverbed route. It made us wonder whether the other track had been washed out. Walking up the track we soon realised it was very soft gravelly sand and along the right side of the riverbed was a spring (or remnants of the stream). After a couple of miles walking the track didn’t improve and subsequently, Ed made the decision that this particular track was too risky for us. We were likely to get stuck. A bit down hearted, we returned to the truck and spent the remainder of the evening worrying about the other track. We would have to give it a go and hope for the best. The following morning we took the ‘other’ track which also turned out to be a riverbed, but thankfully it appeared to be much more worn in and for the most part the ground was firm under (truck) foot. We passed through the dark green grey volcanic rocks of the mountain range and it wasn’t long before we were keeping our eyes peeled for a track heading east. Our current track was on our GPS map but the route to the crystal cave was unknown and a full 24km from the nearest point of our current track (as the crow flies). We spotted a potential track and made the decision to go for it and follow our noses. Luckily the landscape was soft undulating hills (with the occasional dried up riverbed to cross), so with plenty of positive thinking we continued to follow tracks bearing east, sometimes just driving off piste to stay on the correct bearing. After more than an hour the little arrow that represented our position got closer and closer to the GPS position and suddenly an arm of pale white rock appeared in the distance. I was convinced it was marble! We had to be heading in the correct direction. After what felt like an eternity the white rocks loomed ever nearer and we knew we had made it. Ed pulled over about 2km from the GPS position and we decided to stop for a rest and a bit of lunch before exploring the cave. Also we had to wait for the heat of the day to pass. We were in the Gobi after all and the sun was potent. I was so excited however, I could hardly eat! Eventually we set off and approached the entrance to a small gorge at the far southern end of the white marble arm of rock. We were very amused to see a little picnic bench and even a bright blue ‘P’ sign alongside it all the while thinking that we were in the middle of nowhere and there was no other human being in sight. We entered the gorge of gnarled weathered marble. Up close the pale marble rocks were tinged pink and grey and the walls rose up about 15m either side. The path was wide enough for just two people to walk side by side and it meandered around giant boulders that had collapsed from up high in a wonderful hobbity fashion. After only a few minutes an opening of a cave appeared on the right and sure enough someone had placed marble steps leading to the entrance. Of course… Indianna-Ed went first. From the brightness of the gorge it took our eyes a few seconds to adjust and as we climbed the steps we realised there were two figures inside the chamber. It made me jump but it turned out to be two bronze statues depicting the Palaeolithic (Stone Age) people who used the cave 750,000 years ago. We entered the chamber and it wasn’t very big and I couldn’t spot any crystals. Ed thought we had come to the wrong cave and as he was turning to leave I switched on my head torch and scanned the back of the chamber to reveal a dark passage at the rear of the cave! I called Ed back and with our torches (Indianna-Ed went first again ;p) we squeezed through the small passage and with heads bowed arrived in a second chamber. It was totally epic. Shining our torches at the walls, we realised we had entered the crystal cave. I was so excited! White and salmon pink jagged square shaped crystals were illuminated in the torchlight encrusting every inch of the walls and ceiling. On closer inspection I realised it was calcite and so wonderfully translucent that it glowed and sparkled in the torchlight. We kept shining our torches and discovered a smaller antechamber at the rear of the cave and also a large chamber above us accessed through a higher passage. The ceiling of the higher chamber was covered in long eared bats (we wondered what the strange squeaking noise was), all huddled together in large groups. They were cute little things (although I would likely have panicked a bit if they started to fly around!). Looking up at the highest part of the chamber our efforts were rewarded as Ed spotted much larger calcite crystals. In the dim light we could just make them out and they were huge (about 30cm long). It didn’t take too long to realise however, that the majority of giant crystals (excluding those on the high ceiling) had been bashed away leaving large opaque square shaped chunks of calcite. It made us quite sad trying to imagine how ridiculously beautiful and spectacular this cave would have been 750,000 years ago (or even 100 years ago) when all the crystals were still in-situ….. It would have been unbelievable. After about an hour (I didn’t want to leave) we finally excited the cave and explored the small marble gorge. Ed was drawn to an outcrop of much darker rocks, which from a distance reflected the sunlight. In his usual billy goat (Indianna-Ed) style he scrambled up the wall of the gorge and I (in my Crocker style) struggled to catch up. It transpired that the dark rocks were heavily weathered marble which had turned dark brown over the eons. The outcrop looked like ancient fragments of dark wood, all cracked and brittle and I picked up a fragment of it and, admiring the underside which glimmered in the sun with evaporated calcite. From the top of the gorge we enjoyed the view and followed another miniature gorge (dried up gully) back to the truck. The location was so dramatic, remote and so beautiful. We were struck again by how lucky we were to be here, experiencing it all to ourselves. That evening we sat outside the truck drinking tea and watching the sun go down. Stars appeared above us and a mild breeze broke the silence. The mountains in the distance grew darker and darker, and eventually (before any wolves appeared) we decided to climb back into the truck and settle down for the night. The next morning (Sunday 27th July) we retraced our truck tracks back to the main track of the previous morning and continued to head south further into the middle Gobi. Soon the southern flanks of the Ikh Bogd Mountain Range loomed to the right of the truck and the view was even more spectacular than the northern slopes. They were flecked with dark reds, whites, green and black rocks and looked so interesting that we couldn’t just drive passed them without taking a closer look. We picked our way over several small sandy riverbeds and undulating long grassy hillocks finally arriving at green rolling hills topped with weathered black crags of rock. We hopped out of the truck and immediately my eyes were drawn to pale peach coloured rounded pebbles dotted all over the ground. They were translucent and pitted and I wondered if they were agate (which Mongolians refer to as water crystal). After more investigation I realised the ground was absolutely littered with minerals. Within minutes I had picked up fragments of pale blue agate geodes and pieces of quartz clusters that looked like something you would pay for in a mineral shop! It was too exciting to contemplate. Subsequently we chucked on our walking boots and headed for the hills. It wasn’t long before we arrived at a rock face of weathered grey-red lava pitted with holes of which fifty percent were filled with the pale peach agate glowing prettily in the sunlight. The wall of lava formed a partially eroded gully and soon we were scrambling up it. In the rock face Ed immediately found a heavily weathered quartz geode the size of his head! And with more searching we found several slabs of blue stripy agate and wonderful quartz clusters. It was totally amazing. Finally we arrived at the top of the rock formation and Ed pointed to the ground where a giant elongate quartz geode was exploding out of the mountainside. It was over one metre long and the majority of it was still intact with stunning clear crystals each about 1cm in length sparkling in the evening sunlight. It was so unbelievable, and I never expected us to see anything like this. I was utterly overwhelmed. I had always loved minerals and crystals and my sister and I had collected them since we were little. It was one of the reasons I studied Geology at University, and here I was standing alongside a giant geode that would probably cost hundreds of pounds in a mineral shop. Of course there were tears. The entire trip so far had been a dream come true and for me, and this was the icing on the cake. Naughtily, I managed to shake a slab of the quartz geode free (to keep as a memento), placing it carefully in Ed’s rucksack (it was heavy!). I also picked up several small clusters (that looked like beautiful crystal flowers) from the debris of the geode, and was satisfied that there was still plenty left for other people to enjoy if they ‘just’ so happened to pass by this remote area of Mongolia. Tearing myself away from the geode, we continued walking towards the mountains but soon realised that only the hills in the foreground were full of minerals, so we sat to enjoy the view in the evening sunlight and absorb our surroundings and location fully. The evening sunlight was beautiful and we surveyed the valleys below us of ancient rock and rolling desert-steppe. Finally it was time to head back to the truck, both of us with fists full of agate geodes and quartz clusters. Sadly however, we both dropped all our findings in haste as a red motorcycle approached us bearing a local. We had spotted several Gers at the top of the mineral filled hills and wondered when we would be spotted. I think we both threw the rocks to the ground because oddly it felt like stealing. I know it sounds strange, but these people had lived here for generations and although no one owned the land in Mongolia, it still felt like they were the custodians of it. The nomad had a dark tan face and a nice smile and he was very soon picking up the minerals from the ground to show us anyway and (although not a word of English escaped his lips) we knew he was explaining how he understood they came to be here and he even started pointed to the hills indicating where the best ones were to be found! With enthusiastic gestures (as usual) we tried to explain that we had driven from the UK and that we adored Mongolia, and this particular place was very special indeed. We hope he understood our genuine affection for the country and didn’t think we were just here to pilfer the treasures of the mountain (which we had stumbled on unexpectedly). With a friendly wave he was on his way and I really wanted to walk back to my pile of discarded ‘treasures’ but I didn’t, musing that I had taken enough with the large quartz cluster slab (still in Ed’s rucksack). The following morning we were awoken by the purring of a motorcycle. This time the nomad (of the previous evening) had come back with his son. We hopped out of the truck and the nomad had brought a bag full of little geodes, agate and crystal clusters and he insisted on us taking them. We were overjoyed and Ed returned the favour giving him a fancy box of peanut and caramel brittle. We got our map of Mongolia out and spread it on the ground and then explained to our visitors the route we had so far travelled through Mongolia. All the while the nomad nodded energetically and explained it all to his son (who I have to say looked quite disinterested….. lol). And if the small bag of minerals weren’t enough, the motorcycle buzzed away and so we set to tidying the truck and getting back on the road, before the nomad returned a third time with a geode this time bigger than Ed’s head! It was a huge lump of rock with quartz crystals poking out the end. It seemed far too generous a gift and again the nomad insisted we take it. He didn’t ask for any money at all. Because he had been so kind however, Ed gave him $25 dollars anyway and we felt pleased he accepted the gesture. As we drove away I wondered how we were going to get the thing through customs…… We continued on the track south bearing towards our next destination; ‘Bichigt Had’ (The Valley of the Writings). We’d had a tremendous few days already and it was about to get better and better. The Valley of the Writings is a remote rocky canyon filled with 5000 year old petroglyphs and like the crystal cave we had a GPS position but no mapped route to get there. After a few hours the Ikh Bogd Range disappeared behind us and we slowly approached a new mountain range; Ikh Bayan Nuruu, and somewhere within those mountains was our destination. Our track passed through a small town before slowly ascending towards the hills, and much like the northern approach to the Ikh Bogd range (from Orog Nur) a yawning gap in the mountains appeared before us and we entered a gorge of black sided volcanic walls along another soggy sandy riverbed. In some places the sand was very soft and deep and Ed regularly got out to check the ground. He also smashed us through the sand with as much force as the truck could muster to prevent us from getting stuck and not allowing the friction of the sand to bog us to a halt. It was a bit stressful, but eventually we successfully arrived in an elevated rocky valley above the riverbed, filled with green minty grey weathered schist gleaming silver in the sunlight. It was an odd landscape but again something we had never yet witnessed (before or in Mongolia) and all the while our eyes were searching for a track bearing south-west. Our first attempt to find the correct track failed and we ended up outside a Ger (luckily no one was home). Our second attempt however, was more successful and albeit we had more than 30km of un-mapped Mongolian space to navigate, we felt confident we were going in the correct direction as dark volcanic mountains loomed ahead of us. Further we drove, and the track suddenly transformed and we were driving through a flat plateau strewn with rounded granite boulders and alive with an endless carpet of wild alliums, their pink and white pom pom flower heads bobbing in the breeze. We had seen such a carpet in the South Gobi as well. The alliums obviously loved the sand and looking into the distance their density could mistake them for grass. It was wonderful and once more reminded me of an epic scene from LOTR. After a few more hours (and after getting a little bit lost) we finally found the correct track into the mountains. We had entered a small gorge of dark red-black rocks that glinted with a metallic sheen in the sunshine. Not far from the entrance to the valley we arrived at a cross-roads with several similar valleys leading off in several directions and as Ed continued to edge the truck forward I shouted ‘stop!’ I had seen a petroglyph of an ibex on a slab of rock outside my window! We parked the truck alongside one of the dark valley walls and avoiding the heat of the day, took a short siesta in the truck before exploring the valley in the early evening. It was deathly still and quiet and I thought altogether a little bit creepy. The black rocks were dark and slightly menacing and we soon realised that there were about seven interconnecting valley’s (basically miniature gorges of their own) and my paranoid brain couldn’t help wondering what was lurking around every corner! It was silly really, but we were over 100km from the nearest town and it was bloody remote. Walking down the main arm of the valley we concentrated our attention to the south facing rocks which had turned more metallic in the sunlight, and very soon were greeted with hundreds of petroglyphs and some of them required a bit of climbing to see them. Even after ten minutes of searching, Ed spotted a huge slab about 10m above the valley floor which was covered in more than 20 petroglyphs. They consisted of mostly ibex with large rounded antlers, but with wolves (attacking the ibex) and small figures of men shooting bows and arrows. They were so simple but at the same time such beautiful images scratched into the surface of the metallic rock. After about 2hrs of exploring the valley we were flabbergasted by the place. It was an ancient relic in its own right we had it all to ourselves. We could hardly believe that there were still places like this in the world and felt like children again, all excited and ready to believe in anything. Soon however, the sun began to fade and the wind picked up. Suddenly my feelings of isolation returned as darkness descended and the black rocks looked even blacker in the fading light. I have to say, I was a bit scared that night (what a wuss I am, but you try sleeping in a spooky valley in the middle of the Gobi desert in a truck……lol). The following morning (Tuesday 29th July) we took the opportunity to explore one of the other small valleys before the sun got too high in the sky and stumbled on petroglyph after petroglyph (although I did see more depiction of wolves in this valley than the previous). I lingered alone exploring the rocks while Ed walked back to the truck and put up the awning to provide us with some shade. We remained in the valley the entire day, half expecting to see a Toyota Land Cruiser or Uaz bearing tourists. But no one came. Subsequently we went for one more walk in the evening and spent a second night in the valley (and it was just as spooky the second night! I still couldn’t sleep). On Wednesday 30th July (Congratulations Mr & Mrs Seargant!) we left the Valley of the Writings and retraced our route back to the town of Bayanlig, before heading west to our next destination Tsagaan Bulag) meaning ‘White Spring’. We had read that the locality was a large lump of white marble with rock inscriptions and of course, a spring. Also the local children slide down the rock face and over the years the marble has smoothed into a slick waterslide. By late evening (again we had no mapped route, only a GPS) we drove towards a glinting white beacon in the distance which in fact, did turn out to be the sun reflecting from a shiny marble rock surface. The outcrop was very pretty and a natural arch of weathered marble stood on the top of it, so we walked up to that first and enjoyed the view of the plateau below. After further scrabbling (I was stupidly wearing flip flops), we happened upon the rock engravings which (I thought) looked like the head and antlers of an ibex, and several strange footprints in-filled with criss-cross patterns. Next (Indianna-Ed couldn’t stop himself) we slid down the marble slide (which was dry; there was no spring). Ed was surprised how slippery it was and with a bit too much forward momentum zoomed down to the bottom, and so watching him I slowed myself down with my feet! Hehe. It was all good fun though. Not as spectacular as the crystal cave, or the Valley of the Writings, but definitely worth a look. We spent the night not far from Tsagaan Bulag on a marble slab of our very own. It was a beautiful evening and the sky was lit up with a pink and orange sunset and we marvelled at everything we had seen so far in Mongolia. The country just kept on rewarding us at every turn. If we hadn’t already been spoiled, we spent the following two days driving to an abandoned Buddhist Monastery (Amarbuyant Khidd) through more awe inspiring scenery. It took a little while (and lots of luck) but we finally found the monastery on the eve of Friday 1st August, and sadly it was no longer abandoned. The drive to it however (albeit we got very lost), was utterly spectacular. We had to navigate through undulating hills with granite teeth heaving from the earth, along a beautiful flat valley flanked with golden intricate ribboned mountains, and through various sandy river beds and muddy gorges (overlooked by suspicious herds of camels). The journey alone was worth the destination (if that makes any sense) as sadly we thought the renovation of the Monastery had not been sympathetic and we longed to see the promised (Lonely Planet) ruined version instead. After spending the night in the hills above the Monastery we continued north back to the Aimag Capital of Bayanhongor, via one final destination (on our list); Boon Tsagaan Nuur, which comprised another large salty lake. On the eve of Saturday 2nd August (whilst heading north) we rescued a Stupa loaded on the back of a small truck! Yes a Stupa! It was hilarious. We were driving along and suddenly a nomad appeared on a motorcycle waving urgently at us to stop and follow him. He had a kind face and obviously needed help, so we followed suit, and after five minutes we arrived at the stupa bearing truck, which was trapped in the sandy mud. The vehicle was blatantly overloaded and it suddenly occurred to us that the Stupa may be going to the monastery from where we had driven that very same morning. If that was the case, we knew the vehicle had no chance of making it and it did worry us a bit. Ed pulled them out with ease using the winch and the lady wife (in the truck) filmed the whole thing with her smart phone. The driver was very pleased and we wondered on the role of the old man on the motorcycle because he quickly got his wallet out and tried to give Ed money, which of course he refused profusely. Finally the old man gave in and we waved the party goodbye, another good deed completed in kind. Ed loved rescuing the locals. It felt like we were giving something back to a country from which we had taken so much pleasure. It was a good trade. On Sunday 3rd August we arrived at Boon Tsagaan Nuur through more ridiculously amazing scenery. We ascended once more into the Ikh Bogd mountain range and passed through several stunning valleys filled with alliums, wild flowers, all the while flanked by superb rock formations. About one hour before reaching the lake we passed into the most AWESOME black rocky gorge of the entire trip. It was so epic in scale and proportion Ed and I were actually frightened to be driving through it. We had to get out of the truck and challenge our fears (and take photos!). The cliffs of black metallic rock (much like that of the valley of the writings) loomed some 50 odd metres high on either side and the track on which we drove was ‘just’ wide enough (at times) for the truck to squeeze through. The atmosphere created by the rocks was one of oppression and exhilaration! It was so unnerving because we didn’t know how long the gorge would last and whether we would make it through or not. It was a real path into the unknown and the track meandered tightly from left to right, and at times there was an illusion that we would drive into a wall of rock! Only on approaching the bend did you realise that the track continued to twist and turn. It was EPIC!!! As we finally exited the gorge path (with sadness but some relief), Ed spotted a vehicle on a ridge above us on the right and so beeped the horn (thinking they were overlanders as well). It turned out to be however, a family of locals and they had broken down on the ridge and needed to borrow a spanner. Within minutes two men had scrabbled down the side of the hill followed by three small boys. We both got out to greet them and Ed extracted his ‘giant’ tool box from the truck which impressed the two men immensely. One of the little boys took the spanner back up the ridge and within 5 minutes the car was descending towards us! It was unbelievable but two women (one carrying a baby) and another man got out to say hello and thank us. They were so sweet and we were highly amused when 3 men, 2 women, 3 boys and a baby all squashed back into the one (normal sized) car and drove away! LOL! We spent the night overlooking the blue waters of Boon Tsagaan Nur. White Gers dotted the lakes edge and the rim of mountains (from whence we came) glowed in the evening sunlight. It was a stunning place and albeit we were hidden in a small hollow wedged between the mountains and the water (totally out of sight), two young lads on a motorbike still managed to find us! We were chillaxing in the truck when loud booming music filled the air and there they appeared outside. Ed had put the steps down and so he hopped out the back and indicated for them to enter the truck and have a look inside. I was sat at the table writing when they appeared next to me. They were very polite however, and seemed extremely fascinated by the sink (all water in the majority of Mongolia is extracted from a well). On Monday 4th August we continued north back to Bayanhongor. Not far from the lake however, our track passed alongside a huge 15m sand dune (which had swallowed up another track) and so we couldn’t prevent ourselves from climbing it and marking the virgin sand with our footprints. The view over the top of it was amazing and we realised the dune was a crescent shape with a perfect ridge at the top. It was too much fun. Ed tried to push me off the edge of it (which was really steep!) before we dragged ourselves off it and continued north. By late evening we arrived once more to the town of Bayanhongor and our previous campsite by the river. It was odd to be in the same place twice as it was the first time so far (in our entire trip) that we had returned to an old camp spot. The tinkling river however, was soothing and we were exhausted. We couldn’t help but reflect on what we had seen and achieved since we were last here. We really had found the adventure we were looking for and we were so glad that we had decided to explore this one particular area of Mongolia. We had been brave and bold and on this occasion is had paid off…. We didn’t want to think about all the things that could have gone wrong… It didn’t matter now, we were back in town and back on tarmac. All that was left for us now was to spend a day washing clothes before heading north to the border and out of Mongolia….. The following day we were just about to eat a late lunch after hours of washing the dirties, when Ed spotted a young lad walking across the opposite river bank. He was carrying two rucksacks and a lute and Ed called out to him. It turned out that he was English, from Oxford and his name was Joe. He was only 22 and had been hitching his way bravely from western Mongolia back to Ulaanbataar. He was such a lovely lad we invited him to eat with us and ended up chatting all night (‘we hope we didn’t chew your ear off Joe and that you made it home safely!’). That night Joe slept in his tent outside the truck and the following morning we all shared breakfast before parting ways. We were also heading in the direction of UB but it would take us several days to get there (plus our middle seat wasn’t really appropriate for a long journey through Mongolia) and Joe needed to catch his fight home by the coming Sunday. We felt sure he would be fine (he was a capable lad) and so waved him goodbye as we left Bayanhongor heading east back on the Millennium Road. We finally arrived back in the Capital in the early hours of Saturday 9th August. It was 6am, but we knew that this was our only chance to drive into the mayhem that is UB while the roads were quiet. I desperately wanted us to visit the infamous ‘Black Market’ (don’t worry mam, it’s not illegal!) which we had missed during our last visit, and so we managed to find a spot to park not 2km from it (at 6am) and then we waited for it to open. Ed had not been warm to the idea, but because we had arrived so early in the morning, navigating the city was a breeze. Soon we were wandering the stalls and it was awesome. Everything was for sale from fruit and veg, clothes, authentic Mongolian boots, cashmere and woollen clothes, and even all the material you need to make your own Ger (felts, canvas, rope and lino!). There was definitely a ‘nomadic section’ filled with everything you might need to kit out your own horse, but sadly we couldn’t find any of the quilted coats or robes that we had seen all the local nomads sporting. Also I tried my damn hardest to get Ed to try on some of the nomadic boots but he didn’t want to! (Sorry Lucy, we didn’t buy any). We managed to wander the entire market before lunch however, and only one person tapped Ed’s pocket (for cash)… but Indianna-Eds pockets were too wiley! By the afternoon we were out of the city and heading north to the border, and by the following evening (Sunday) the Mongolian landscape which we had become accustomed to changed. Forested areas and cultivated fields appeared and some 50km from the Mongolian-Russian border we already felt like we had left Mongolia. And on the morning of Monday 11th August we did leave….. It felt like the end of something special. Mongolia was truly unforgettable and we wouldn’t have changed any of it. We felt every spectrum of emotion when we were there; blissful awe and euphoria, fear, excitement and above all satisfaction. We had made it! The TRUCK had made it…. It was a good feeling. The border crossing was ‘okay’ and took around 2 hours. On the Russian side however, there was a hairy few moments when the border guard didn’t believe that Ed’s passport belonged to him! The angle of the sun must have lightened his eyes because the border guard (a women) insisted that his eyes in the photograph were brown, but when she looked at him she could see they were much paler! Well Ed’s eyes are a moss hazely green and sadly the passport photo was tinted slightly brown anyway! As was mine! (bloody Tesco Photo Booth!!!!). Four people had to come and inspect Ed’s face and it didn’t help that in his passport he had a shaved head and face, but standing before them was a man with a giant hairy beard! We couldn’t believe how ridiculous it all was as we had passed through eight borders before then with no issue! This was our third entry into Russia! Eventually they conceded and we were allowed into Siberia! The end of the road is in sight! Lots of Love Ros & Ed.
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AuthorRos: Both Ed and I will be updating the diary blog as much as possible! WTS. Archives
September 2014
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