Day X - Terilj National Park: Go hunting for wolves, finally get to see inside a ger, eat frozen clotted cream and learn how to play Mongolian checkers.
It snows in the night and now UB looks clean and lovely...with the outline of factories belching smoke on the horizon somehow rendered more attractive. There are no such things as snow sweepers so various workers are out in the mornings sweeping and chipping the snow of the side of the kerbs to provide markers for the cars to see which lines to stay inside of, used as a loose guideline of course!
Ita and Gomba (the driver) pick us up in a Mitzi 4WD and take us off the the national park. We soon leave the traffic (and occasional car head first in a ditch) and head out through the 'ger burbs' The govt is trying to encourage people into town so you can move your ger in and put a fence around it, and there are lots of area's of this. Ger's are round almost flat roofed tents, on wooden frames, with thick felt and canvas covering them. Basically the height of people standing up, with a wood burning stove in the middle. There are usually animals tied up somewhere near,and as we passed in the morning, the kids were up on top sweeping the snow off, before it melted. The land is flat flat flat, with little vegetation, until we head into the hills and then it still doesn't really get that high. The paved road takes us past a river in the process of freezing, yaks, goats, cows and sturdy little horses. All around are 'Ger Camp's (summer camps) as every one leaves the town to live in the tents or small houses over summer. We embarrass ourselves by asking if the set of ornate temples is a Buddhist monastery to find out it's an elaborate themed Summer Camp. As it's winter very few are open and those that do cater for mad tourists, group bonding sessions or hunters. Mongolians love to hunt and one of their few entries into the Olympics was a highly places shooting team.
The ute leaves the road and heads out along the plain, winding over and round tracks, and there is no road in sight. I think the driver has done this many times before and just points the car towards the hills and drives around anything (rocks/people/houses) he can't be bothered driving over...It's very entertaining and quite bouncy, as by now we are heading up through the hills.
We stop at a prayer rock, made up of a mound of stones with any number of flags attached and they both walk around 3 times as a matter of course. I think the Mongolians have interrogated religion in a very practical way, perhaps to do with having been the second country to declare as Communist( we find out later that going with the Russians was more appealing than going with the Chinese). Gomba has been telling us about all the animals that are in the woods (anything that's not for hunting is either livestock or a plant!) and is interested to know if M is a hunter. M had to confess that he doesn't hunt, but his dad does, and quickly points out this includes ferocious Wisconsin deer...as duck seem a little tame next to hunting for fox, wolf and a wild mountain sheep/goat thing that costs US$10,000 to hunt. Gomba shows us his guns and loads up, apparently he got a wolf 3 days ago and is keen for another. Ita rides shotgun (literally) and we take off again to the camp, I'm concentrating on looking at the wonderful scenery (there's lots of eagles soaring in the sky) and trying not to think of loaded firearms in a bouncy car. All of a sudden Goomba sees a wolf and sure enough, there on the hill side is a lone wolf going from rock to rock. We screech to a halt and he gets out and starts blasting away. He's obviously a good shot as he only misses by about 6-8 m from 500m away in the valley. I'm secretly glad as i quite like wolves and went walking with them in the sanctuary in Reading...M's just glad we don't have a dead wolf draped on the luggage for the rest of the trip. We keep moving, keeping our eyes peeled but only see vultures and eagles (obviously not tasty enough), and make it through the isolated passes to the camp.
We go and say hello to the family and only the kids are home, get served bowls of yoghurt, something that resembles frozen clotted cream and cold donuts...Interesting food..not good for the no dairy or wheat regime but when in Rome...
the family Ger is like being on a long camping holiday, every thing seems to have it's place and we sit at on small stools at a little table, kind of like being at the kids table for Christmas dinner. They have a small shrine that includes a picture of the Dalai Lama. We eat our fill of the yoghurt etc but haven't mastered the art of licking the bowl clean as the driver does...our guide informs us that he hasn't either.
We get to our own ger, with cheery yellow and red curtains around the insides, and a lovely warm wood burning fire. This is attended to by a couple of girls who pop in at unexpected moments to put more wood on, cuts down on the snogging, and we work out a plan that involves getting up every two hours throughout the night to keep the wood on, only to discover they put great big lumps of coal in for the night...glad about that from the 'keeping warm' point of view, but will wake up smelling like a hangi, with a new rattle to the hacking cough I've developed especially to keep M awake.
We get to rest for a little then go for lunch. Mongolians eat 3 courses at lunch and two at dinner and they like to eat dinner early as they think that eating late is bad(v. true to) We get salad (potato with unidentified verges - but good), delicious mushroom soup that even M (A known mushroom hater) likes and delicious stew, very like a stronganoff, all under the watchful eyes of the most enormous stuffed and glaring mountain goat, mounted high on the wall of the dining room above us. This turns out to the be wild prized sheep that all hunters want to bag. It has curly horn and is easily the scariest looking beast I've seen.
We get to go trekking on small sturdy hairy horses in saddles like rocking chairs. Quite comforting to the non rider (me!) and I plan what to tell Carron in her postcard...me actually riding a horse. Still feels like a long way from the ground as the poor thing plods over the snowy hill, huffing and puffing as it drags my yoghurt filled carcass. I concentrate on admiring the view whilst hunching into the saddle as it's absolutely freezing, especially in the wind, easily the coldest we've been so far. I look at the scenery ( wonderful views over the valley), I tell myself how glad I am being in Mongolia, I pretend that I'm a trader going into the village BC (before car) and I console myself that M looks at least as cold and he's from Wisconsin. On the way home I'm so numb I can barely hold on, and I'm trying not to think about how many days until we're in Malaysia and focus on the stove in the Ger...feel the warmth. The horse picks up it's speed as it knows it's going home...it's barely moving in a fast walk, I fall on the saddle in a not very graceful dismount and head of the Ger and HEAT.
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