Exhausted

Day: 348

Sunrise:
05:19

Sunset:
21:28

As the crow flies:
13,70

Daily kilometers:
18

Total kilometers:
1722

Soil condition:
Grass

Temperature – Day (maximum):
30°C

Temperature – day (minimum):
20 °C

Temperature – Night:
8 °C

Latitude:
49°42’773”

Longitude:
100°11’497”

Maximum height:
1750 m above sea level

Time of departure:
14:00

Arrival time:
19:30

Because there is no stream or river in this area, we are again forced to ride longer than we wanted. The horses deliver top performance. We watered the thirsty horses at a foul-smelling, shallow area of water where hundreds of cattle, horses, sheep and goats were urinating. “I hope they can handle this broth without getting sick,” I express my concerns. But as there is a herd of horses grazing just a hundred meters from the waterhole, we are convinced that they also come here to drink. “Shouldn’t be a problem,” says Tanja, pointing to the herd.

In the golden evening light, we ask at a yurt where there is water in this valley. “At our place,” the yurt dwellers reply, pointing to a well. “Can we set up camp here for the night and water the horses?” asks Tanja wearily. “Gladly,” the friendly shepherds reply.

When we unsaddle Naraa, we are startled. Her wound has worsened. Whether we can even use them again on this trip is questionable. Sar’s pressure point is also swollen. Bor’s saddle doesn’t fit either because his pressure point is also broken despite the light luggage. When Tanja and Bilgee rode from the Tuwa spring camp to Tsagaan Nuur, Bor didn’t want to get on the ferry. Bilgee’s nerves got the better of him, which is why, as I later learned from Tanja, he hit him on the hip with a thin tree trunk. Surely Bilgee did not hurt Bor on purpose, but it was still unforgivable behavior. Bor can walk again, albeit a little unevenly it seems to us, but his hip is clearly misaligned.

I have to admit, this situation saddens me deeply. “How can we go on?” a thought crosses my mind. Whether we ride or walk, we will reach Mörön tomorrow. From here it is no more than approx. 27 kilometers. But what do we do then? Tanja is also depressed. We already noticed pressure points on the horses last year. But this year they are much worse. “Have the horses become more sensitive at the saddle contact points?” asks Tanja. “I don’t know. The fact is, the German saddles don’t fit,” I reply, examining them closely in the hope of being able to modify them.

As there is no firewood in this valley and our stove is stored in the shed at Saraa, I search the pasture for wood left over by the nomads. I find discarded remains of yurts, saddles and old wooden posts in the garbage left behind by some yurt camps. After half an hour, the crook of my arm is full. “Enough for hot water,” I say and, with great effort, light the wet wood while Tanja takes the horses to the well to water them.

An uneasy, heavy feeling spreads through me like rising steam. A feeling of listlessness, powerlessness, sullenness. I feel completely physically and mentally exhausted. As if a vampire had sucked all my life energy into itself. It is either due to exhaustion, the tension of the last few days and weeks, the unreliability of our previous Mongolian companions or simply the fact that we have been forced to solve almost unsolvable tasks for almost a year. At the edge of my consciousness, I understand the highs and lows of our psyche. However, in my current state, I don’t even feel a spark of energy to analyze my despondency in order to draw strength from the resulting clarity.

We look forward to your comments!

We look forward to your comments!