South and Central Mongolia
Baby camels in the Gobi – South Mongolia
The lowdown
We left on our RTW trip with a rough itinerary of where we wanted to go and how much time we thought we should spend in each country based on a few years of collective daydreaming and some research. Though we started our travels in Central Asia (Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Kazakhstan) in the fall, Mongolia wasn’t on our initial wish list of countries. We had, however, considered going to Mongolia one day after spotting “Ulaanbaatar” on an airport board in Seoul back in 2019, wondering where in the world it was, and then setting our sights on the Mongolian capital one day.
When we were at Joyland in Bali sipping on some lukewarm Guinnesses, we started to talk about changing up our plans. We decided that we weren’t excited about going to the Philippines so we scrapped that plan, adding Oman to our itinerary as a stop over between Japan and Georgia (the flights were surprisingly cheaper and we had always wanted to go). Then, we started to play around with the idea of a last truly off-the-beaten path adventure. Perhaps, we could go back to Central Asia? Mongolia?
We continued to talk about the possibility of going somewhere between Korea and Japan – our last flexible window given flights and visitors. A few days before we were set to go to Taiwan, we sat down at a cafe in Singapore to make a go/no-go decision on Mongolia, considering the costs, time, and what we would do when we were there. We reached out to a few different travel companies on Indy Guide, examined the itineraries, and decided to go for it.
The least densely populated country in the world, Mongolia is a vast natural wonderland that requires a significant amount of knowledge and skill (e.g., ability to drive on and navigate non-roads, Mongolian language) or help to travel around. We went the help route (we haven’t read about any travelers that have done DIY) and engaged Soko, the owner of a small but awesome travel company, Mongol Nomads, to help us plan our two weeks in Mongolia.
Most travelers opt to go to Mongolia in the summertime when temperatures are warm and the steppe is green. But, we were going in the spring – late April through early May – which was considered shoulder season. Springtime meant unpredictable weather, often four seasons in one day, but plenty of cute baby animals as the new livestock are born during this time. Soko helped us map out an amazing itinerary where we would traverse south and central Mongolia in a Russian van, staying and eating with nomadic families each night in their gers (typically referred to as yurts in English which is the unfavorably looked upon Russian word in Mongolia), cooking most of our meals, and seeing plenty of nature along the way.
We embarked on the 12-day journey with our jolly giant driver, Tumee, who spoke as much English as we did Mongolian. Every day was an adventure where we woke up to the sounds of livestock or a family member restarting our fire that had inevitably died during the cold night, drove long, unknown distances, saw amazing landscapes, and spent time with nomadic families appreciating their hospitality and helping out with their livestock.
Read on to learn more about one of our favorite stretches of our trip!
Day 0: Ulaanbaatar
We arrived at Incheon in the early morning wearing our matching orange coats, the warmest articles of clothing we newly owned, and feeling nervous excitement for the start of our adventure in Mongolia. After spending over three weeks in highly developed Taiwan and Korea, we knew that nomadic, sparsely populated Mongolia was going to be a change. It felt like a full circle moment to see Ulaanbaatar on the departure board and know that we were headed there after making theoretical plans to go there the last time we were at Incheon. We grabbed Dunkin’ Donuts, said goodbye to Korea after our quick stopover, and boarded the plane to Ulaanbaatar.
The flight was bumpy, but there were movies and a meal to keep our minds off the turbulence. After 5 months of flying budget airlines that didn’t even serve water, the Korean Air flight felt like a luxurious experience. As we descended into Chinggis Khaan National Airport, we stared at the landscape with wide eyes. Empty and intriguing. We bucked up for the cold, buckled up in a small sedan, and arrived in Mongolia’s capital city, Ulaanbaatar or UB for short, that seemed to rise up out of nothingness after a 40-minute drive.
We were greeted by Soko, the kind, stylish, and diligent 40 year-old that planned our trip. Over a well-needed cup of coffee, we learned about Mongolia’s geography and our plan for the next 12 days. She accentuated that these 12 days would be a true Mongolian adventure, not for the faint of heart. We enthusiastically nodded which was met with a healthy degree of skepticism. Soko seemed a little worried that we weren’t prepared or up for the adventure. Fair point on the preparedness part as we asked to borrow her sleeping bags and didn’t really have warm clothes, but we were definitely up for it.
The rest of the day was spent preparing for our trip and taking it easy in Ulaanbaatar, after a long few days of travel. Soko took us to the State Department Store, a relic from Soviet times as the first state-sponsored store, to shop for groceries. We were shocked by how modern and extensive the grocery store was – it closely resembled an American supermarket outside of everything being in Cyrillic and the very broad assortment of kimchi (Koreans come to UB en masse). As we shopped for groceries to make our breakfasts and lunches for the next 12 days, Soko insisted that we needed specific ingredients in epic proportions – five loaves of bread, potatoes, oatmeal, and other “necessary Mongolian” things we don’t typically eat.
We parted ways with Soko and walked to our Airbnb to drop off our stuff before grabbing a bite around the corner. As we roamed around, we soaked in the familiar look of our Central Asian surroundings – Soviet-style apartment blocks, Cyrillic, brutalist government buildings – while remarking on a different aura than the countries we visited during the first month of our trip. People seemed to be out on the streets, dressed in more provocative clothes with colored hair, and chatting over overpriced coffees – the marks of a more open and democratic society. Sure enough, Google told us that Mongolia was one of the freest, most liberal democracies in Asia.
Day 1: Ulaanbaatar to Baga Gazryn Chuluu
We woke up early, said goodbye to the comforts of urban life, and went to meet Soko and Tumee, our trusty driver and companion for next 12 days. It was cold, like Chicago in early March cold, but Jessie was wearing three-quarter leggings that Soko immediately commented on, fueling her theory that we didn’t know what we were getting ourselves into. Tumee was a blue-eyed, weathered, 60-something year old man from the Southern Gobi desert. Towering over both of us, he gave us a warm smile, extended his massive hand out, and uttered a deep saim-bai-noo. Despite Soko mentioning that Tumee spoke basic English, we quickly learned his lexicon was limited to laaanch (lunch) and taank yuuu (thank you). About the same as our Mongolian, though thank you – bye-et-la – took us a good three days to learn.
Our green UAZ van loaded up for the journey, we hit the road. After we got out of Ulaanbaatar, we were immediately in awe of the vast landscapes, herds of sheep, goats, and horses, and the utter lack of civilization outside of the paved road and the occasional ger. We drove for a few hours before coming across an unexpected sight – a herd of camels. These camels were unlike any other camel we had seen – two humps, dark brown, with a surprising amount of fur. We made a mental note to look up if these were a different species when we got back to WiFi in 12 days (turns out they were Bactrian camels – native to Mongolia).
We drove for a little longer before Tumee pulled off the road, stopped the car, and asked “lunch?” Tumee generously helped us heat up our first lunch, spicy pasta with mixed veggies courtesy of Soko, on the camping stove. It felt surreal to be eating in the middle of this open landscape with nothing or no one else in sight – a feeling we would soon become accustomed to. After filling up our stomachs, we kept driving off the road. Tumee weaved in and out of tire tracks while we continuously expressed our disbelief at the changing landscape.
Eventually, we came upon our first official stop – Baga Gazryn Chuluu – dark sand-colored, granite-rock formations that marked a serious change in landscape from the vastness of the past few hours. We hiked around this area for a few hours, going up and down the rock stacks that reminded us of Arches in Utah meets the Charyn Canyon in Kazakhstan. At one point, we spotted a grazing herd of horses. We started to walk closer, only for the horses to start to gallop in our direction. We got scared and sprinted up the closest rock formations, eventually agreeing that we didn’t really think the horses were dangerous to humans. But then again, you can never be too careful in the Mongolian wilderness…
When we had wrapped up our nature walk, we popped back into the car and shortly arrived at our first ger. We went into the family’s central ger, impressed by everything that was inside: a stove powered by cow poop, colorfully painted furniture, cabinets to store dishes, beds converted into seats, and a cabinet with a basin and small mirror for the family to brush their teeth. The ger was a living room, kitchen, and bedroom for the elders all in one. The family greeted us with tea, hard bread and cheese mixed together in a rusty pot, and a bowl of sheep bones with fresh meat still attached. We attempted to say thank you in our broken Mongolian and were met with blank stares until Tumee clarified.
Atiya, the patriarch of the three generation family, offered Tumee and then us a sniff of a small vile of mysterious orange powder. We didn’t know what it was and had no way of asking, so we cautiously smelled it, not wanting to reject his hospitality. It smelled delicious and we thankfully didn’t feel any cerebral effects. Our research 12 days later would reveal that greeting with snuff bottles is a centuries-long tradition that signifies a warm welcome – the traditional Mongolian version of a handshake.
Warm welcomes aside, we unloaded everything from the car (all 12 days of groceries included) into our home for the night. Tumee led us out to the area where second generation family members were working. We came across what we thought was going to be a very disturbing scene – three family members each with a goat sprawled out on a towel in front of them with their horns tied to a pole and their feet tied together. Luckily for us (and especially Jessie), it turns out they were merely sheering the goats, not slaughtering them. Though, the noises coming from the goats sounded like they too thought they were about to be slaughtered.
We walked over to a small pen where a chorus of high pitched “baaas” was coming from and found at least 30 baby goats and two Mongolia children in orange cloaks – the same color as our coats. We befriended both the goats and the kids, playing with them until they tired us out. When one of the baby goats kept trying to escape and the kids started to get a little violent towards Jessie, we decided it was time to retreat to our ger to settle in. We were amazed at how beautiful and spotless it was with colorful carpets and tapestries lining the walls (including one of Chinggis Khan) and bright orange wooden beams comprising the ceiling.
Tumee fetched us for dinner with the family. Tzituk, the matriarch, had whipped up a delicious rice dish with the vegetables and tofu we gave her, neither of which are common staples in the Mongolian nomad diet. A cow occasionally peaked its head through the door of the ger, as if to say “I’m hungry too.” We were wholly amused by it, but of course the family was completely unfazed. The typical life of a Mongolian nomad! After sitting in silence for a while, we said good night to the family and got cozy in our sleeping bags with the fire blazing.
Day 2: Baga Gazryn Chuluu to Tsagaan Suvraga
In the middle of the night, Doug woke up delirious and thought the ger door was open and that wild animals were inside of our room. One of those things was true – the door to the ger was wide open due to the crazy winds. Startled, Doug woke Jessie, who was closer to the door, and asked her to close the door. She hobbled in her sleeping bag and swung the door shut with all of her might. In our sleepiness, we were both a little scared that the door would swing open again due to the howling winds, but we eventually fell back asleep.
Following the middle of the night excitement, we slept soundly until we were woken by Tzituk who came into our ger to restart our fire. We were both freezing and thankful for her kindness and hospitality. We warmed up in our sleeping bags and slowly got up to prepare breakfast and lunch in our ger. We whipped up pasta with sautéed onions, tomatoes, and chilies for lunch and egg sandwiches with scrambled eggs for breakfast. It’s amazing what you can do with a tiny gas burner.
After scarfing down our creation, we made our way to the family’s ger to say thank you and goodbye. We gave them a bag of Mongolian candy with both hands (an important cultural norm) as a thank you and warmed up around the fire. We watched one of the family members get ready for her day outside in the unforgiving wind and cold. She put on a floral bandana, wrapped a scarf around her face to protect herself from the elements, and hopped onto her motorbike to herd goats and sheep. Two thoughts came to our minds. One, what a badass. Two, wow her morning routine couldn’t be more different from ours back home.
Then, off we went into the vast Mongolian countryside. We drove for hours, feeling like we were simultaneously driving through the beginning and end of the earth. We came across a pack of vultures devouring a carcass that brought us back to our time with the eagle trainer in Kazakhstan. The landscape started to shift from plains to desert with fewer packs of animals and more rocks.
After an hour or two, the first sizable town that we had seen since Ulaanbaatar, Mandalgobi, emerged out of the desert. Tumee dropped us off at a building, signaled for us to go in for ten minutes, and drove off to find gas. It turned out to be a dystopian mall from the Soviet era that resembled a middle school. Everyone was staring at us – no doubt an odd sight in our matching orange jackets and our non-Mongolian features. After working up the courage to speak to us, a group of three girls nervously approached us, hoping to practice their English. They were shocked when we said we were from America.
We continued our drive after a quick stop at a canteen for lunch and noticed the landscape transform again. Larger, wider bluffs of desert turf emerged and the ground started to feel a bit softer under the wheels of our Russian tank. Tumee pulled over and motioned for us to get out of the car. He did a few confusing charades that we couldn’t quite make out. Water? Wizard? Hiking? And then a definitive hiss… He was trying to warn us to be careful of snakes. Yikes!
We cautiously walked towards the edge of the desert-like field and looked down. We saw beautiful red and yellow mounds in the distance and ginormous white cliffs. How did this get here? We wondered in awe and made a note to look up “how did Tsagaan Suvraga form?” when we were back in civilization. We slid down the deep sand on one of the cliffs, carefully trying to avoid snakes so we could reach the bottom without incident. When we looked up at the cliffs, they were even more stunning than they had been at the top. It was one of the more impressive and unexpected things we had seen.
Tumee met us at the bottom of the cliffs with the car. We hopped in for some of the most stomach-churning, fear-inducing, off-roading ever, somehow making it out unscathed. Much to Tumee’s amusement, we laughed through the fear and he laughed with us (probably at our naivety around how much the car could handle). After a few minutes, we approached a large group of camels and two gers – our home for the evening.
Tumee introduced us to his friend the camel herder, Zorigoo, and his wife and we held out another bag of candy as a ‘thank you’ for their hospitality. We settled into our ger, a bit more run down than our first one, and enjoyed the warmth from the camel poop fire. We went to check on timing for dinner and got roped into drinking huge shots of Mongolian vodka with Tumee and Zorigoo. We tried our best to say, ‘thanks but no thanks’, but neither of them spoke English. Or maybe they understood, but they wouldn’t let us turn down their hospitality
We were served pickled veggies, bulgur, rice, and seaweed for Jessie / lamb for Doug for dinner. Mongolian food was far exceeding our expectations thus far. After dinner, we went outside to watch the sunset. It was a spectacular mix of red and bright pink hues as far as our eyes could see. Night took over and we were again enamored with the thousands of stars that shone so bright (but sorry Coldplay, they were all white).
As we settled in for the night, we noticed the ger was hot. Like, sauna hot. We figured it would cool down after a bit and resolved to stay awake until it did, disrobing until we could bear the heat. A few hours and lots of sweating later, the ger was just as hot as ever. We tried our best to go to sleep, but ended up spending hours alternating between standing outside in the sub 30 degree temperature in our underwear to cool down and laying down on top of our sleeping bags. We eventually resigned to our exhaustion and woke up around 4am, thrilled that it was finally cool enough to get under our respective covers. Another night, another ger misadventure.
Day 3: Tsagaan Suvraga to Yol Vulture Valley
Despite sleeping in the ger sauna, we woke up surprisingly well-rested and ready to carpe the diem. We kicked off what was beginning to feel like our usual Mongolian morning routine – boiling water for coffee using the top of the heater, chefing up breakfast and lunch (today, Kimchi noodles with chilis and egg sandwiches with fresh veggies), doing the dishes and brushing our teeth outside of the ger, and packing and loading everything into the car. On the way back into the Gobi, we came across a pack of camels, including a bunch of small babies. We enthusiastically hopped out of the car for a camel photoshoot.
We drove through the seemingly endless Gobi desert for hours until we happened upon a sizable mining town in the South Gobi – Dalanzadgad. With charades, Tumee asked us if we were interested in showering. We were surprised and thrilled – we were prepared not to shower for the entirety of our road trip. We weren’t in desperate need of showers yet, but we seized the opportunity. The shower house was surprisingly lovely. It was partitioned into individual rooms with a dry area to undress and an overhead shower with hot(!) water. A total bargain at $1.5 USD a piece.
After driving on paved roads through the Gobi for a few hours, Tumee veered off-road for one of the most scenic drives of our road trip yet. The soft, dune-like, Gobi Gurvan Saikhan Mountains began to fill in the background of the desert and herds of animals emerged from all angles. Tumee expertly avoided carnage, time and time again. It felt like we were driving through a National Geographic cover.
We drove closer to the mountains and entered the Yol Vulture Valley for our hike of the day. We walked through the rugged mountains dotted with green brush and decided that it would have been an excellent place to film Game of Thrones. Though, upon second thought, probably a little too remote and unpredictable. We happened upon a frozen river that led to a frozen waterfall. We probably wouldn’t have given it a try given the state of our shoes – turns out wearing the same shoes everyday for 7 months can really destroy their traction – but we saw a family with a small baby walking back so we decided to give it a go. We wiped out a few times, but seeing the frozen waterfall at the end of way was worth it.
Tumee took us on a rollercoaster of a drive to our next homestay with Boildt and Jurl, an adorable old couple that greeted us with sweet breads, hard cheese, and warm sheep’s milk. We started to realize there were clear similarities in ger decor – beautifully painted cabinetry, picture collage of distant relatives, a saw placed in the wood beams above the door, a tapestry of Chinggis Khan and/or a Mongolian animal, and a mysterious vat likely containing meat or cheese in the corner – and this ger was no exception. We settled into our own ger for the evening, chowed down on a very Central Asian meal (noodles in steaming sweet milk and a gamey bowl of noodle soup with sheep dumplings), and spent a few hours reading Crying in H Mart (our first bookclub book) before drifting off to sleep early.
Day 4: Yol Vulture Valley to Khongor Winter Camp
Mongolia is one of the coldest countries in the world and springtime is no exception. We would go to bed with a fire blazing to keep us warm, but by morning time the fire was long gone. Consequently, one of the best parts about waking up was often how we were woken – with the matriarch or patriarch of our homestay restarting the fire for us.
It started to snow as we were brushing our teeth and doing the dishes outside, so we hurried back to the ger, packed up, and got on the road. Crazily enough, this was the first “live” snow we had seen since traveling. It made us miss snow back home, while feeling simultaneously grateful that we didn’t need to put up with driving in the snow (thanks Tumee).
Our drive today was marked by changing colors. The landscape started out black and desolate, transformed to yellow sand, orange sand, and eventually to black and purple mountains. Though it is impossible to describe or capture in pictures (particularly due to our amateur abilities in both of those fields), it was magical day of driving. For lunch, we stopped in a small, coal town, Servey, and ate our home-cooked food in a room in the back of Tumee’s friend’s clothing store. It might have seemed odd to us on our first day in Mongolia (and looking back it definitely is), but it felt like a totally benign experience at the time.
The landscape changed yet again when we got back in the car. We were surrounded by purplish blue mountains on either side as we drove towards a shining mound of white sand. As we got closer, the shining sand took more shape – it wasn’t just a mound of sand but picture perfect sand dunes. It was something that we would expect to see in the Sahara, but definitely not in the middle of Mongolia. Four days in and this country continued to amaze us.
We came upon two gers in the midst of this amazing landscape and decided that these people picked the best location in the country, and made even the world, to settle. A massive, friendly Mongolian man emerged from one of the gers and welcomed us to his home. Nyamka was a cheery, nomadic camel herder with four children who had stayed at his winter camp (where we were) for an extra night so we could experience it. We immediately connected with him, despite the fact that we didn’t speak a common language, and spent a few hours communicating through charades over tea and Mongolian bread.
When we asked where the toilet was (side note: toilet typically meant a hole in the ground with or without a door), Nyamka pointed all around. Honestly, nature was much better than the outhouses from the past few nights. After finding our respective toilets, we walked around and took pictures, agreeing that this was our favorite landscape in Mongolia so far. Nyamka called for us to see the winter livestock – seven pairs of mother and baby camels that were overwhelmingly adorable. We hung out with them for awhile before retreating back to our ger.
Nyamka’s family brought over vegetarian and yak dumplings for dinner and ate with us. They were just as friendly as he was, welcoming us with warm smiles (not always a given in Mongolia) and trying their best to communicate via charades. His granddaughter was particularly adorable and loved playing with the candy bag that we had brought to thank them. After an hour, everyone filed out of the ger, Nyamka lit a fire with wood (the only wood fire we would have in Mongolia), and we settled into our sleeping bags for the evening.
Day 5: Camels and hiking the Khongor Sand Dunes
In the early morning, we were woken by the ger shaking due to insane winds (an everyday occurrence in the desert). After we woke up for good, Nyamka and Tumee greeted us with a big pot of breakfast stew that consisted of warm sheep’s milk, bulgar, and miscellaneous sheep parts. Out of respect, Doug attempted to eat a bowl, but it was even too gamey for him.
Doug and I started to play Yahtzee (we probably averaged five games a day in Mongolia), in the hopes that Nyamka and Tumee might join us. And, despite not knowing Yahtzee or any English, they did! We conveyed the rules with the dice and they took to the game quickly and happily. They loved saying, foool hauz (full house) and roared at our excitement when they rolled Yahtzees. After a few games, we whipped up our best meal yet for lunch – fried egg sandwiches with Mongolian mozzarella, sautéed onions, and chilis.
Shortly after lunch, Nyamka summoned us for a camel ride. With their thick coats of fur, the cold weather Gobi camels were much comfier to ride on than the one-humped camps in the Thar Desert in India. We loved soaking in the scenery and silence while atop our massive, furry camels. On our way back home, we swung by the baby camels and heard their very loud, hysterical camel calls that sounded like a cross between a deep moo and Kermit the Frog’s voice.
Then, it was time to pack up and move to the summer camp. We hopped in the van and followed Nyamka on his motorbike. The image of Nyamka on his motorbike driving between sand dunes and the mountains will forever live in our minds – it was a true “this is living” moment. When we reached the base of the dunes, Tumee signaled for us to get out and explore. We sprinted up to the top of the tallest dune in sight and peered over the edge to see a few camels and windblown dunes, like in the movies, that seemed to go on for miles. Tumee cut through the dunes and we emerged on the other end to an even more amazing landscape than the night before.
Nyamka’s summer camp was very different from his winter one. He had multiple guest gers (as opposed to none at the winter camp), but they were void of typical ger decor. The bed frames had relatively soft pads compared to the wooden planks from the previous night. And, there was an outhouse complete with a toilet seat which was a pleasant surprise.
We walked to the sand dunes, ready for an adventure. It wasn’t long before we realized we wouldn’t be able to get to the base of the dunes because there was a small stream blocking our way. As we turned back to Nyamka’s camp, we spotted Tumee full steam ahead in the van. He picked us up and we raced to the tallest dunes. When we got there, Tumee pointed up, motioning for us to climb them. And so the adventure began…
Climbing the Khongor Sand Dunes might have been the most challenging 30 minutes of our entire trip. The first part was hard, but nothing insurmountable. We tried to find the areas near the ridge with harder sand that made walking easier. As we trudged higher, the dunes became steeper and the sand started to weigh us down. Our shoes were literally more sand than shoe at several points. We didn’t know if we were going to make it on the last stretch up. Struggling to catch our breath and profusely sweating, we took different approaches to making it – Jessie clawing up the sand on all fours and Doug burst sprinting. It was one step up, four steps and multiple shoes full of sand back.
We persevered and made it to the top of the ridge line. It was worth it – the landscape was amazing. In one direction, endless sand dunes that we had no idea were there and in the other direction, mountains and plains as far as our eyes could see. We stayed at the top for long enough to get mouths full of sand thanks to the wind and decided it was time to make our way down.
Jessie attempted to slide down on her butt, but was worried about creating a sandvalache so quickly sprang up. As we walked down, the dunes sang from the wind. When we arrived back at Nyamka’s, we felt accomplished, exhausted, and very sandy. We attempted to wet wipes shower ourselves off, but resolved only a real shower (whenever that would be) would do the trick.
We enjoyed a last dinner with Nyamka, gobbling down delicious short rice noodles with cabbage, onions, carrots, and potatoes. It was one of our favorite meals that we happily topped off with delicious hard, but chewy grape candy that Nyamka offered us handfuls of. At the end of the meal, the Mongolian vodka came out. Doug bravely took two shots out of a sheep’s horn (classic Mongolia) with Tumee, while Nyamka and I politely declined.
Day 6: Khongor Sand Dunes to Ongi
On our way out of Nyamka’s, we handed him a Chicago postcard and five dice as souvenirs of our time playing Yahtzee together. He gave us a big hug and huge fistfuls of grape candy for our journey ahead. Our drive to Ongi started off as one of the most beautiful days in Mongolia. We drove along the dunes as a beautiful range of mountains emerged. After an hour, we came upon a small, stunning valley that cut through the mountains.
Following this gorgeous drive, we had hours of barren landscape, outside of an occasional pack of animals. Our favorite sighting was a group of gazelles – a new animal for us – that sprinted out in front of the car. The rest of the morning consisted of crazy winds with sand coming down everywhere and more barren desert landscapes.
Eventually, we spotted a patch of very red rocks from afar that stuck out against the light brown sand. We would momentarily learn that these were the, aptly named, Flaming Red Cliffs where the first ever dinosaur eggs were found in the 1920s. Before seeing the cliffs, we walked through a well-done museum on the history of the Flaming Red Cliffs that also included a brief history of life on earth (relevant because Mongolia was essential). We watched a short video on the 1920s expedition and found the original footage fascinating. Unsurprised but disappointed, we learned the dinosaur eggs are housed in the Museum of Natural History in New York. The expedition that discovered them was American, but we thought they deserved to stay in Mongolia. The cliffs were neat, as were the herds of camels and sheep nestled in them, but it was so windy that we couldn’t stay for too long.
We drove across the vast nothingness of the desert for a few hours, dreaming about what it might have looked like when the dinosaurs were here. As the sun was starting to set, we arrived at Ongi, our final stop for the night. We explored the 300 year-old Ongi monastery ruins that were destroyed during the communist purge in the 1930s. We didn’t have any indication of what the ruins were at the time and no way of looking it up, but we enjoyed having the place to ourselves and taking in the epic landscape.
Our stay for the night was in a “tourist ger camp” which would typically have multiple gers for tourists to stay in, but it was really a homestay during off season for all intents and purposes. When the matriarch of the family attempted to put coal in our fire, we animately shook our heads and waved our hands, please no! We would rather be cold than be in a ger sauna, not to mention the environmental impact. Coal scare averted, we enjoyed a delicious dinner that reminded us of Central Asian plov. Doug liked it so much that he swore he would make it when we get home, sheep and all. We’ll see on that one 🙂
Day 7: Ongi to Shireet Lake
By Day 7, we had learned another critical Mongolian word, ya’wee (let’s go). After making what was sure to be a delicious arrabbiata pasta for lunch, we ya’weeed into the Russian tanker and set off into the mountains. We drove for a while before coming up on the capital city of the province of the day, Aravaikheer, which was the most developed city we had seen outside of UB. Tumee asked if we wanted to shower, an emphatic yes please ensued, and he tracked down a complex with the help of a few locals.
After ridding ourselves of the sand and dirt that accumulated over the past few days, we emerged as new humans. We stopped at the Mongolian version of Costco, Nomin Wholesale, to pick up a few odds and ends, including a bottle of Chinggis Khan vodka as a thank you for Tumee at the end of the trip. Everyone in the store stared at us. We smiled back. It was clear that not many non-Mongolians wandered into the Nomin in Aravaikheer!
The afternoon’s drive brought hills and the beautiful Khangai Mountain range which reminded us of Colorado. As we approached the base of the mountains, Tumee and the van went into beast mode. We plowed through stretches of frozen river as the car transformed into a boat, coming across wild horses, yaks, and amazing views of the mountains. Snow emerged on the mountaintops as we went deeper into the valley.
When we finally arrived at our home for the next two days, we were warmly greeted by Bagi, Pagma, and Bagi Jr., a family of yak herders. They offered us yak milk and yak cheese as we admired their ger – it was the most beautifully and intricately painted out of any of the ones we had stayed in. We made conversation through charades that seemed to thoroughly entertain them all. We learned their names, Bagi Jr’s age (17) and all about their nomadic lifestyle. We also noticed a sewing machine and saw Pagma’s beautiful del (Mongolian overcoat), deducing that she was an extremely talented seamstress.
We settled into our ger which was far and away the best that we had (and would) stay in. It was spectacularly painted with new-looking wooden furniture, a couch that doubled as a double bed, and general cleanliness. The stove was heated by yak poop which fondly reminded us of our time in Alichur, Tajikistan during our Pamir Highway road trip.
We were summoned for dinner where Pagma served noodles with vegetables for Jessie and yak meat for Doug. We offered the crew some of the vegetables, but they shook their heads and laughed at us. It seemed like vegetables were not part of their typical diet. Tough to fathom for someone who almost exclusively eats vegetables at home 🙂
When we were wrapping up dinner, Pagma and Bagi Jr. took us outside to see the yaks. They expertly herded all of the baby yaks into a shelter where we got to hang out with them. The babies were too cute for words. The smallest ones even had tiny coats to keep them warm at night. Post baby yak attack, we warmed up in our sleeping bags and cozied up for the night. We had an unexpected sleepover buddy for the evening – Tumee! Luckily, he didn’t snore.
Day 8: Yak herding and hiking around Shireet Lake
We slept in, only to be woken up by Pagma who had come in to relight our fire. She insisted that we go back to sleep, which, of course, had the opposite effect and we got our lazy butts out of bed. We went into the family ger to say good morning to everyone and Pagma enthusiastically showed us her gorgeous designs. Somehow, this turned into her family and Tumee dressing us up in traditional Mongolian outerwear for our hike. Doug’s feet were too big for Bagi’s boots, so Tumee and Bagi each took one of his feet and wrapped them up in cloth until the shoes fit. Bagi Jr. could not stop laughing at us in our traditional outfits, but hey, when in Mongolia with the yak herders.
Fitted up, we hopped in our trustee van and made the rocky journey up to where our walk started. We bore the cold and the wind and hiked up to an amazing viewpoint of Shireet Lake. The whole lake was frozen and set against a vast backdrop of tree-lined hills with mountains out in the distance. As always, an unbelievably beautiful and expansive landscape. When we arrived back at Pagma and Bagi’s, we were greeted with a warm fire, yak cheese, and delicious, freshly fried bortok (sweet Mongolian bread nubs).
We relaxed for the rest of the day, catching up on writing and reading, playing Yahtzee (including with Tumee, Pagma, and Bagi Jr.), playing chess with Bagi Jr., and going on a few walks to take in the beautiful landscape. At night, we happily repeated our routine from the previous night – a delicious dinner with the crew and yak wrangling with the backdrop of a multi-colored sunset. It was easily one of our favorite places and homestays during our time in Mongolia.
Day 9: Shireet Lake to Orkhon Valley
Another day, another home-cooked lunch in the ger. Today, we tried something different and made an egg scramble with leftover vegetables from the night before. We said a tender goodbye to Pagma and Bagi, who told us to come back again. We hope we will! We set off for the Orkhon Valley with another passenger – Bagi Jr. – who was dressed to the nines for a weekend in the nearby town.
As we made our way to the Orkhon Valley, we passed through changing landscapes yet again – tan rolling hills with bare trees, forests with coniferous trees, and green valleys. We drove through grassland valleys with many horses – the image of Mongolia we had in our heads before getting here that had been challenged time and time again. Tumee pulled off the paved road in a beautiful spot overlooking the grasslands and we had lunch next to two cows and their babies. The cows couldn’t have been happier about getting our leftovers.
We drove farther off the road into an amazing stretch of grasslands with an unbelievable amount of sheep, horses, and yaks roaming freely. Tumee pulled over and started walking towards an ambiguous destination. After a few minutes, a crater emerged in the distance. As we got closer, we could see that it was a beautiful waterfall – Ulaan Tsutglan. It was a lovely stop, made even better by the pleasant weather with much more comfortable temperatures than Shireet.
After another hour of driving, we came upon a man on a motorbike chasing horses – one of the first people we had seen all day. He turned out to be Pruay, one of the family members in our ger homestay for the next two nights. He led us down to a steep valley that was one of the most serene drives of our trip with a backdrop of pine trees, mountains, and only one white ger in sight. Pruay and his family welcomed us with yak milk, yak cheese, yak butter, and bread as we introduced ourselves to their three generations.
Pruay told us to hop on his motorbike (not big enough for three, but we made it work) and drove us to a watering station. We watched horses, yaks, goats, and sheep all duke it out for water access. Clearly, there was a pecking order. Horses reigned supreme and used their back legs to fend off any competition. Then, the yaks came in and used their horns and size to scare off the sheets and goats. Finally, the goats and sheep took the scraps.
We had rice and veggies in the family’s ger for dinner where we all watched Mongolian news. Crazily enough, a picture of Tucker Carlson appeared. We assumed that something very bad or crazy must have happened for Tucker Carlson to be making the primetime news in Mongolia and made a note to look it up when we got WiFi (turns out he was fired… definitely don’t think that merits being on the Mongolian news).
We went for a lovely evening walk to work off dinner, but were quickly summoned by Pruay to get to work. It was time for us to pull our weight and help with the evening herding. Score! Pruay dropped us off at the top of a tall hill and pointed to a few stray sheep and then down to their quarters. As the sky turned pink, we sprinted down the mountain behind the sheep as they profusely baah’ed.
We successfully herded the sheep downhill. Mission accomplished! Or so we thought until Pruay picked us back up on the bike to herd the remaining goats near another pen. A few pesky goats decided to make a run for it and Doug ran after them like a natural herder. Right before they entered the pen, the goats made another run for it and took more animals with them. Pruay and his family let all of the animals out of the pen (confusing to us, but they obviously knew what they were doing), chased them in a circle, and shut all of them in for the night, even the pesky goats.
Day 10: Goat and sheep herding and horse riding in Orkhon
Our day started out a little slower, given we were staying in the same place for another night. Eventually, Pruay came into our ger and told us it was time to ride horses. We hoisted ourselves onto two beautiful Mongolian steads. For an hour and a half, we rode through the stunning Mongolian wilderness as one of Pruay’s dogs followed behind us. Somewhere along the way we saw the animal kingdom at work as a vulture captured, killed, and dropped a baby yak.
We spent the rest of the day relaxing in our ger and spending time with the family. At one point, the patriarch of the family came into our ger, sat on Doug’s bed, ate a hot chili pepper that we offered him, drank Doug’s water bottle to cool down (no waterfalling), and left. It was an odd series of events, but unsurprising coming from this family (nice but a little bizarre). We took a walk up the hill to see the horses and yaks grazing, ponies and baby yaks included.
After our relaxed day, we had our last dinner with Pruay’s family. We had come to expect either noodles, rice, or soup during dinner, but tonight was different. The matriarch made bao-esque buns that were airy and delicious. We were also served Mongolian wine (home brewed) by Samia, Pruay’s 5 year-old daughter, who seemed to enjoy the sweet wine herself.
Then, it was time for the moment we had been waiting for all day. Herding! The matriarch wrapped Jessie in her coat so she could stay warm. We hiked up a very steep rock face to herd four stray sheep that had gone too far. We made our way down much more carefully than the day before, but couldn’t avoid slipping and sliding down the scree.
When we arrived in the pen, Samia started to hand us baby goats. It was time to move the baby goats into the area with the moms so they could have milk. While we held the goats like human babies, others seemed to take more of an aggressive approach, grabbing them by their necks and even juggling them at times…
In one of our favorite moments of our travels, Pruay motioned for us to get on the back of his motorcycle with our boat goats so we could drive them to the other pen. The image and feeling of us on his motorcycle, baby goats in tow will stay with us forever. Doug’s goat wouldn’t shut up – he was clearly not happy about his situation – while Jessie’s snuggled up to her. After dropping off our goats, we played outside with Samia and retreated to our sleeping bags.
Day 11: Orkhon Valley to Khugnu Khaan Mountains
We woke up sad that it was our last full day on the road in Mongolia. We carried out the last of our ger morning routine – warming up by the fire, using the stovetop to make our coffee, and whipping up spicy noodles for lunch. Our groceries had impressively taken us through 11 days of lunch (though we didn’t have many fresh veggies left at this point). We gave our leftover supplies – mostly grains – to Pruay and his family to use and said our goodbyes. Then, we were off!
We drove through valleys with beautiful terrain, waving farewell to many horses and yaks along the way. After a few hours, we arrived in Khujirt, a small but busy town for lunch. Tumee led us into an old Soviet building that resembled a log cabin on the outside and an abandoned prison on the inside. The decor inside the room where Tumee led us was intriguing to say the least and included a stock fruit poster with a collection of fruits that were not native to Mongolia and a poster of two elephants playing in a fake waterfall amidst a lush jungle, also clearly not Mongolia. The posters almost felt ironic against the peeling wood walls. An older woman cooked up fried sheep and onion pockets for Tumee as we scarfed down our kimchi noodles and washed them down with a cup of yak’s milk.
After lunch, we headed to Karakorum, the original capital of the Mongolian empire in the 13th century and once one of the largest cities in the world. We stopped at the center of the city which was now just a few piles of rocks (what we presumed to be the ruins of the city) and several Buddhist temples. Outside of a group of workers that didn’t appear to be working, we were the only ones on the grounds. We explored the temples, particularly enjoying the Tibetan-style monastery that had monks chanting mantras. It brought us back to Tengboche in Nepal, though the monks in Mongolia seemed to take their jobs slightly less seriously.
As we started on our stretch of the day, we came upon a range of rugged mountains and sand dunes. It felt like we had a view of Mongolia’s diverse landscapes all in one as we approached grasslands and wetlands near the dunes. We drove closer to the bulbous, rugged mountains and arrived at our final ger homestay of the trip. Terana, our hostess, prepared milk (cow’s milk for the first time on our trip) and bortok for us to snack on. Before settling in, we went for a lovely walk towards the mountains and reflected on our time in this exceptional country.
Terana chefed up one of our favorite dinners in Mongolia: homemade dumplings and vegetables. While we were eating with her and her husband, the wind rattled our ger and sand fell inside. A massive dust storm came out of nowhere, completely obscuring the landscape. The dust storm went on for hours and made it a little difficult to fall asleep, but we eventually drifted off to our last ger sleep of the trip.
Day 12: Back to Ulaanbaatar 🙁
We loaded up the tank one last time, waved goodbye to Terana, and hit the road back to Ulaanbaatar. On the way, we passed wild animals, vast landscapes, carcasses, and empty Vodka bottles on the side of the road, the perfect send off to our 12 days in the Mongolian wilderness. And just like that, we were back in the UB city limits.
We said a tender thank you and farewell to Tumee who was touched by the bottle of Chinggis Khan and gave us bear hugs in exchange. Soko was impressed that we had made it back in one piece and even more so that we thoroughly enjoyed the trip – she had underestimated us. We thanked her and headed into our Airbnb, excited for a real bed, laundry (all of our stuff smelled like ger), and a long, hot shower.
Our 12 days driving around Mongolia were some of the happiest memories of our trip. We were in awe of the beauty of the country, the hospitality of the Mongolian people, and the nomadic lifestyle and loved being completely disconnected. We hope to be back in Mongolia in the not so distant future!
