Fifth summary – setting off into Mongolia’s Arctic winter

Day: 436

Sunrise:
07:05

Sunset:
18:40

As the crow flies:
1,67

Daily kilometers:
3

Total kilometers:
2525

Soil condition:
Asphalt

Temperature – Day (maximum):
15 °C

Temperature – day (minimum):
minus 12 °C

Temperature – Night:
minus 3 °C

Latitude:
49°01’460”

Longitude:
104°02’800”

Maximum height:
1281 m above sea level

In the days before our planned departure, Bilgee’s moods got to us. It looked as if he was going to get scared after all and, like Ulzii, abandon us at the last moment. On October 21, as we heaved ourselves onto our horses’ backs with thick deels and winter boots to ride into the coldest region of the country, we felt a strange sense of happiness. Bilgee had recovered and, like us, was full of energy. Our progress was so slow that I wondered whether we had misjudged our planned daily stages and whether the coming Arctic winter would catch up with us before we reached our destination. The route became increasingly difficult. We crossed rocky heights, rode through icy rivers, battled against the increasing cold and the merciless wind. The challenges were borderline. I was bitten by one of our pack horses and kicked on the same spot. Mogi made our journey more difficult because he always managed to free himself from his muzzle. Tanja had no choice but to put him back on the lead, which meant I had to lead two packhorses instead of one.

We followed the slowly freezing river Egiyn Gol until we reached Khovsgol Nuur at an altitude of 1,645 meters. Its beauty almost took our breath away. We had reached the land of wolves and loneliness. Mogi was allowed to run free again as there were supposedly no more sheep and goats. How could we be wrong. One of the shepherds was still living with his small herd on the lakeshore. Mogi tore down a billy goat, but did not injure it. Nevertheless, the shepherd wanted to shoot him. I stood between the gun and our dog and saved his life for a few moments. Then Bilgee shot a female dog that had joined us. She had to die for Mogi and the shepherd had his revenge. Due to the ongoing difficulties with our dog, we decided to look for a new home for him as soon as possible. This decision made me grieve for my dog. Fortunately, we didn’t find anything suitable and Mogi stayed with us until the end of the expedition.

We left the freezing lake through a rock cut. The path led us to higher, even colder regions. The taiga embraced us. A large summer fire had left thousands of bare tree trunks stretching accusingly into the snow-covered sky. We crossed icy slopes on which the horses’ hooves slid incessantly, following the course of a river, always on the lookout for a ford to get to the other side. The narrowing gorge forced us to change banks 20 times. Ice floes broke under the hooves of the neighing and frightened horses. Adrenaline shot through our veins. Fear of not drowning in the raging waters below us was a constant companion.

Tracks in the snow revealed the presence of wolves. Snowstorms forced us to stay in camp to wait for better visibility. Tenger was suddenly missing at minus 30 °C. Had it been stolen? Bilgee and I trudged through the deadly cold night and found him sleeping peacefully under a bush. Although the ground was covered in ice, we trotted along for hours. Always thinking about winning the race against time and reaching our destination before the approaching winter would freeze us to death at minus 50°C.

Suddenly the accident happened. My riding horse pulled all four legs away at once. It fell on me with its entire weight. My ankle and knee ligaments stretched. A terrible crack told me that something in my body had snapped. “Get up!” Tanja’s voice urged me to stand up. To this day, it is a mystery to me how I managed to get back in the saddle. Perhaps the fear of freezing to death? The reality was tough. No security. Snow and ice. Cold and frost. Bare mountain peaks and needleless larch trees. Since nothing was obviously broken, the ride continued at the same speed. An unforgettable and terrible time in my life. And then we unexpectedly found ourselves in a labyrinth of half-frozen lakes and rivers. Bilgee wanted to ride over it as the crow flies.

Steaming white mist lay over the still open water points. He warned us of the deadly danger of possibly breaking in. We were forced to retreat and spent the night in the tent without a fire at minus 35 °C. Tanja froze the tips of her toes. We reached critical mass. One wrong step, one ill-considered action and we would have been dead. At night, the freezing ice floes sang as if they were whales communicating with their underwater song. The next morning we ventured out to traverse some lakes and rivers. The tension cracks under our feet drove into our limbs. We made it to the next stage destination, the remote village of Tsagaan Nuur.

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