Successful mission

Day: 307

Sunrise:
05:15

Sunset:
21:23

Total kilometers:
1361

Soil condition:
Grass

Temperature – Day (maximum):
10°C

Temperature – day (minimum):
5°C

Temperature – Night:
minus 6°C

Latitude:
51°39’155”

Longitude:
099°21’977”

Maximum height:
1858 m above sea level

My firewood has run out. Without horses this is a problem as I can’t drag dead tree trunks out of the forest. I’m thinking about how I can get fuel without having to pump my neighbors. Then I remember the logs, tree stakes used as stools and small tables that I used and made the day after our arrival to dry out the damp floor of our tent and set it up. I quickly leave my tepee, run into the tent and fetch the wooden furnishings to cut them into oven-sized pieces with the chainsaw without hesitation. I feel like an Aborigine where, as we experienced it ourselves in Australia, this often happens. Even if it doesn’t seem like an elegant solution to burn up your home furnishings, in this case it is a justifiable way out. “Who knows if we’ll be using the tent in the next few weeks?” I ask myself, satisfied with my idea. The roughly crafted furniture will keep me warm until Tanja and Bilgee arrive. At the latest then I can use Bilgee to get trees from the taiga to cut them into decent firewood.

17:20. I hear Bilgee’s very familiar cough. “That can’t be right?” I think to myself and storm out of the tipi. “Hello Denis! How are you?” he says in a mixture of Mongolian and English. “You’re already here? That’s fantastic. You weren’t supposed to be here until the day after tomorrow? Where’s Tanja? Are you and she okay?” I ask because I only see Bilgee with two packhorses. “Oh, I’ve lost them,” he replies with a grin. Minutes later, it is cleared of the dense bushes. Laughing, she comes riding towards me. To protect herself from the eternal cold wind, her face is covered by a warm scarf. “Hello my darling!” she calls and gets off her horse. I take her in my arms and am glad to see her safe and in one piece. “Are you all right?” I ask. “Yes, so far. And you?” “All right. But I haven’t experienced anything here. It was very quiet. Surely it was more exciting for you?” “I’ll tell you in a moment. For now, let’s unload the horses,” she says.

Just ten minutes later we are sitting in our tipi around the stove, drinking hot tea and eating freshly baked bread, which I took off the hob just an hour ago. “Oh, it’s nice and warm at your place,” says Tanja after a long ride and a week of hardship. “Our furniture is on fire.” “Our what?” “Well, the floor and the stools from the tent,” I reply dryly. “I see. I thought you had used up our equipment,” she replies with a laugh. “And how was it? Were you successful? Did you find a new horse man?” I ask curiously. “I’d best report from the beginning.” “Gladly. I’m dying to hear how you got on,” I say and listen.

“Well, we had just been traveling for five minutes when Sar’s front legs just buckled and I flew out of the saddle with a somersault.” “What, for heaven’s sake? And nothing happened to you?” “No. I rolled off and immediately stood on both feet again. I was afraid Sar would fall on top of me. Adrenaline was apparently the reason for this speed. I was back on my feet much faster than my horse.” “Good thing the ground wasn’t stony or rocky at that point. What did Bilgee say?” “He was riding ahead and didn’t even notice. But you know how it is in Mongolia. Falling off a horse is hardly worth mentioning.” “That’s right,” I reply, thinking about my fall, the consequences of which can still be felt. “Because of the bad weather and the weakness of our horses, it took us three days to get to Tsgaan Nuur. When I saw the nut bowls that people here call ferries, I wondered how we were supposed to get our seven horses across the Shishged Gol (Shishged River), which flows into the lake at that point. You can’t fit seven horses on it. I said, whereupon Bilgee tried to calm me down with his dsügeer dsügeer (okay, okay). But I wasn’t at all reassured because I was worried they might fall into the water. In the end, it was a lot of work to drive the horses onto the unsecured platform. Bor didn’t want it for anything in the world. Bilgee tried everything. In the end, he hit him on the butt with a big stick until he finally stumbled onto the wobbly thing. The crossing actually went smoothly. None of our horses fell off. We reached Ayush’s baisin and were invited for bread and milk tea. I told Bilgee to rest while I bought some food for us. When I came back we ate bread and fish.

Before Bilgee rode into the mountains to look after the horses, he told me that Ayuhs wanted 10,000 tugrik (€5.71) per night. I got really upset and told him that he had cheated us out of an entire truckload of wood in winter. Ayuhs replied that the 80,000 tugrik (€45.71) had been paid for with our last overnight stay. I gasped because that would have meant that he had scammed 20,000 tugrik (€11.42) per night from us in the four days we spent there waiting for Bilgee and the horses. When I wasn’t prepared to give him this sum, he told me that he would throw out all our luggage if I didn’t comply with his demand.” “What a bloody crook. A real rotten rat that old guy. Last year we rented his run-down hut for 1,000 tugrik (€0.57) a day,” I say indignantly. “Yes, that’s what I said. Now it costs 10,000 tugrik per person was his reply. What should I have done? He is a fraudster and in this case we are at his mercy. Gritting my teeth, I paid.

That same afternoon I learned that many of the men were in the taiga to put out the forest fire. So it was an unthinkably bad time to get a horse man. I immediately got on the phone to mobilize all our Mongolian contacts but no one was available. It was desperate. I really needed you. I was sitting in this hut, a little dejected, contemplating my next steps when Ayush’s stepson Jock came in and made himself comfortable on the bed. This hut is my home too, he said, loosening his belt. I got up without comment and walked into the village to buy groceries for us.” “Wait, Ayush is charging the absolute exorbitant price of 10,000 tugrik (€5.71), the same price you pay for an inn or guesthouse with breakfast, and his son also claimed the hut as his accommodation?” I ask, puzzled. “Yes, but he wasn’t there at night.” “Well, that would be even better. Man, this Mongolia turns everything I’ve ever learned and experienced about decency and honesty on its head,” I groan and don’t really feel like listening to Tanja’s disheartening story any longer. “So, what happened next?” I say.

“Tsendmaa couldn’t help me with this tiresome matter of Ayush, his stepson and the search for a horseman. She had to travel to Ulan Bator on the same day. So I was on my own. I got what little time I had left that day and ran back to this ugly baisin. Then I opened a bottle of beer and let the evening fade away. The next day, I repacked the equipment we had stored there. Bilgee will take some of it to Mörön and leave it with Saraa, and he will transport the winter gear to Erdenet. He has promised to store them for us and when we are back in Erdenet after the horse expedition we can pick them up from him. This will save us further transportation costs.” “Good idea,” I interject. “I used the afternoon to ask a few stores if they wanted to buy our crates, canisters, the table and chairs and so on,” Tanja continues. “I’m telling you. That was perhaps depressing. Some of them laughed at me. One couple said they were coming to Ayush’s log cabin in an hour to look at the stuff. They never showed up.” “Oh dear, that doesn’t sound great,” I groan again and again. “Have you found a horse man?” I want to know. “No, but a horse woman.” “A woman?” “Yes. I put notes on the doors of the stores with Bilgee. Nobody came forward about the forest fire except a woman. At first I was just as against it as you were.” “I’m not necessarily against it,” I interject. “Well, whatever. She seems to be strong enough to tie up the luggage on the horses. She told me about going jade hunting with her own horses in winter. You know what a tough job that is. I think she could do it. I met Shagai and Dalai by chance. They said that the woman is a bit crazy but good with horses.” “Were they referring to the jade search?” “Could be. I told her we’d be in touch when we get back to Tsagaan Nuur in ten days. Maybe we can set up camp next to her yurt. Then we wouldn’t have to go to that cutthroat Ayush anymore,” Tanja considers. “Perhaps. But maybe Dalai and Shagai will allow us to pitch our tent with them while we’re in town?” I ponder. “I’m quite sure of that. We’d just have to move our equipment away from Ayush,” Tanja points out. “We’ll rent a car for that. We’ll find one.” “I’m sure we will. The horse woman is certainly not a bad choice,” Tanja continues. “She helped me move our equipment to a store where it is now offered for sale on consignment. I think there might be something there.” “She seems committed and wants the job,” I say. “Whether we take her or not depends on what you say when you talk to her. She agreed to it. Bilgee spoke very highly of being with us. It’s not much work and there’s meat and chocolate,” he said. “The bilgee. Ha, ha, ha. Seems to have sold the job well.” “He has. And I’m sure he likes it with us.” “Absolutely. He’s been with the team for almost six months now. If he didn’t like it, he would have left a long time ago,” I confirm. “Exactly.” “If she works like a man, does she drink as much?” I ask. “Supposedly she doesn’t drink vodka. She has two children to look after.” “Children are no reason to stay away from vodka in this country, but maybe she’s telling the truth. We’ll see,” I reply with a laugh. “Whatever. The two days there flew by. To save money, Bilgee suggested we set off that same evening, which is why we left Tsagaan Nuur behind us at 19:40. Because of the dark clouds and wind, we sat in the saddle until 22:00. Then we found a reasonably sheltered spot in a valley. We pitched our tent and at around midnight we were hit by this terrible blizzard. This morning we didn’t want to ride any further because of the bad weather. However, at 10:00 a.m. it cleared up a bit and the extreme wind died down a little. That’s the reason why we’re back so early,” Tanja ends her report.

By now it is 21:00. Bilgee has already set off again for his outdoor camp to look after the horses. Tanja is very tired and suffers from stomach pains and terrible fatigue. “And you don’t want any more tea?” I ask. “Absolutely not. I feel sick. Dalai and Shagai invited me to a fish dinner yesterday. The fish was fresh but the oil was apparently old. Oh, I feel sick,” she says meekly and slips into her sleeping bag. I sit there for a while, listening to the crackling fire and thinking about whether Tanja’s mission was successful or not. After some consideration, I come to the following conclusion: she has provided us with new food, sorted the luggage, found a horsewoman, put our equipment for sale in a store on consignment and found out about the possibility of another place to spend the night. Even if Tanja’s story didn’t sound encouraging at first, she undoubtedly completed her mission successfully.

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