Mongolia. Wow.

A view from our tent in the Terelj

 For three weeks now we've been exploring Mongolia.  Rough plans only allocated about a week here, but the country's beauty and the people's kindness kept urging us to see and do more.  Our time here was divided into two individual mini trips.  The climbing trip to the Terelj, and the Russian Jeep tour.

Our travel party was increased to three after picking up another traveler, Shachar, in Ulaanbaatar.  The three of us would climb, drive, break down, get lost, camp, freeze, make fire, and dine in deserts and yurts over the next 3 weeks.

Climbing the Terelj National Park.

Jesse and Shachar warming up at headquarters.

Leading the 5.11c Mongolian Route Rage

Jesse going up.

Less than 2 hours from the capital of Mongolia, Ulaanbaatar, is a vast area of wide open grassy steppe, portioned into plots by mountain ranges and sporadically pierced by sharp rock outcroppings.  It was by one of these random mounds of stone that we set up camp for five days.  These rocks, as well as the adjacent formations, were all dotted with protection for climbing.  All types of routes were available with cracks and slabs ranging from 5.7 to 5.13 (the first time we've seen the American grading system since before Bulgaria).  It was here that we were introduced to the Mongolian desert and steppe weather pattern of warm days and freezing nights.

Shachar on the sharp end of the rope for the first time ever.

Jesse changing shoes after getting to the peak.

Goats, sheep, horses and yaks shared our backyard.

The Mongolian Engineers.

On our first night we heard music in the distance and became detectives.  Operating under the sad assumption that we would find a group of tourists, only Mongolians were found.  We stumbled upon an anniversary party for the Mongolian engineering guild.  In the midst of a bonfire, live music, and freely offered Chinggis (Mongolia's favorite vodka) we made first contact with the locals, using English with the youth and Russian with the elders.

The animals made their way into the office on the last day.

The Russian Jeep.
A common way for foreigners to explore the truly diverse Mongolian countryside is to rent a minibus with a driver and get taken to the sights.  After talking with the organizers of the Mongol Rally, we were able to get our hands on a Russian jeep without a driver.  With extra food, fuel, two tents, a rope and a compass, we departed Ulaanbaatar with our sights aimed at the Gobi.

We're about to head through the ice canyons in Gurvan Sayhar.

Taking a break at the Buddhist shrine while looking back at the road.

With the help of some Polish hitchhikers that joined us for 4 days, we found an incredibly beautiful and remote climbing area at Их Газарин Чулу (Ikh Gazarin Chulu.).

Adriana at the rocks she influenced us into finding.

He helped us find bolted routes
 hidden throughout the rock fields.

Climbing in the rocky oasis.

We slept in a field of dried goat manure
because it was the closest we could get to mattresses.

The team.

Jesse and Shachar making it to
the top of the dunes.

It wasn't far from the capital when the roads ceased to be flat and paved.  The main interstate highway that we took all the way to Dalanzadgad was actually just a network of intertwining dirt roads that resembled the varicose veins on an elderly lady's legs.  Hourly, the vistas would drastically change between endless flat green steppes, snowy mountain passes, and empty desert wastelands. Because the country, outside of the capital, is virtually undeveloped, it was easy to imagine traveling through the same stomping grounds as Mongolia's great Chinggis (Genghis) Khan.

The steppe, dunes, and mountains at Khongor Els.

It got pretty beautiful.

Stuck in the dunes with a ripped engine belt.

Jesse and Shachar operating on the belt.

We had to spend the night.

Hearing an engine in the distance,
we ran through the dunes and found help. 

Old sign of Soviet and
Mongolian friendship.

Though our experience was as close to driving through a National Geographic episode of Planet Earth that I've ever been, interacting with the locals was the most memorable aspect of the trip.  Back in the Terelj, I got the impression that Mongolians are a considerably happy people.  After visiting multiple remote regions, this impression has been reinforced.  This was surprising in light of the fact that they were the longest standing members of the hope destroying Soviet Bloc (after the Soviet Union itself).  While a dissertation could be written on this topic, a short and cynical hypothesis for the happiness may be that the race and competition of wealth building that is capitalism has not yet reached far from the capital.  40 percent of the people here are still Nomads.  It is true that they don't live as long as citizens of rich countries, but the only other place I've met such happy people was in remote Indonesia.

When our transmission dropped, locals stopped by to have tea, coffee, and beer with us in the middle of the road.  Nearly every Mongolian knows how to fix a Russian jeep.

The nomad mechanic's daughter milking the goats.

The mechanic's home.

We were invited inside for tea.

We had downtime while we waited for the transmission to
get fixed a second time.This man not only found for us the
 apparent master technician of jeep transmissions,
but he also put us up for the night. 

Traveling musicians putting on
an impromptu concert for us.

It's a travesty that we've done so much and I can only write about so little. Hopefully the pictures can help you travel along with us.

A map of Mongolia at its largest.

Next stop: China