Violent kick, blue ice

Day: 273

Sunrise:
06:11

Sunset:
20:31

Total kilometers:
1341

Soil condition:
Ice, snow

Temperature – Day (maximum):
minus 0°C

Temperature – day (minimum):
minus 0°C

Temperature – Night:
minus 12°C

Latitude:
51°33’337”

Longitude:
099°15’341”

Maximum height:
1981 m above sea level

The temperature dropped to minus 12 °C again during the night. It doesn’t get much warmer in the morning either. Tanja and Bilgee set off punctually at 9:00 am in light snowfall and strong winds. “Take care of yourself! I’ll need you for the next 50 years!” I call after her. “Yes, don’t worry about it. It may be late before we get back to camp. When we reach Tsagaan Nuur and the reception is good, I’ll give you a quick call!” she replies and the horses have already disappeared behind the many trees.

In the meantime, I tidy up the tipi, dismantle the wooden bed that I originally made for Bilgee and put it back in the tipi. “At last you can lie down in the tepee,” I say happily. Then I fetch two bags of snow. A young dog keeps me company. Suddenly he starts digging in the snow next to me. It doesn’t take long and it stinks terribly. “What have you uncovered there?” I ask and discover a large pile of human excrement that the little one immediately gobbles up ravenously. “Oh man, and only 50 centimeters from where I shovelled the snow into the bags,” I say in disgust and decide to collect the next load of snow further away from the camp. Back in the tipi, I start to melt the snow in the wok and prepare the extra food for Naraa and Bor, who are tied to the trees outside and whose protesting noises make it clear to me that they are hungry. After the horses have eaten their special ration, I prepare myself some soup. Then I knead bread dough so that Tanja and Bilgee can enjoy fresh bread tonight.

At 18:30 I finally get around to typing a few notes into the computer. At 9 p.m., I check my watch every few minutes. As the sun set 29 minutes ago, I start to worry. Tanja called at 16:00 and talked about leaving Tsagaan Nuur. They should have been here long ago. “Surely nothing will have happened?” I think. At 21:30 they are still not there. “What will we do if they don’t come? Will the Tuwa help me look for them?” I ask myself. The thermometer shows minus 12 °C. The wind is still strong and icy. At 10 p.m., I think about shooting a flare into the air. “Maybe their flashlights are out and they can’t find their way?” I think. “They’ll see the tracer ammunition,” I continue to think and wonder if it was a good idea to let them go this morning. Shortly after 10 p.m. the dogs attack. I put on a jacket and sprint into the icy night as fast as the low entrance allows. A glimmer of light flashes through the trees. Once, twice then it stays and blinds me. “Hello, my God am I glad to see you! I was just about to shoot a flare into the sky to show you the way. Are you all right? Are you all right?” I ask excitedly. “Everything was fine. It worked wonderfully,” Tanja replies, getting off her horse. The animals are quickly unsaddled and the saddlebags carried into the warm tipi. “Oh, it’s nice and warm here,” says Tanja happily. “And I’ve baked some fresh bread for you too.” “Delicious, that’s wonderful,” she says, slipping out of her Deel. “Was it cold?” I ask. “Not at all. When you’re in the saddle and constantly moving, it’s actually warm,” she says. “Why are you so late? You wanted to leave at 4 p.m., didn’t you?” “We didn’t leave until 6 pm. Bilgee had trouble transferring the money and I couldn’t find any vaccine for the horses in Tsagaan Nuur. I tried the pharmacy. But it was closed. Then at the hospital. They wouldn’t give me anything there either. You won’t believe where I found the vaccine?” “Well, where?” “At Ajush’s. He had it and sold it to me.” “What does he need this vaccine for?” I interrupted. “I think he needs the stuff for his cows. Unfortunately he didn’t have any syringes. I then rode back to the hospital. That’s where I got the syringes and the right needles. They’re huge things, but Bilgee says they’re okay. We got everything. By the way, it only took us three hours to get to Tsagaan Nuur. As soon as we left the taiga behind us there wasn’t a flake of snow. We made very good progress. The only challenge was the lake. It has now thawed in many places. I didn’t want to cross it at first, but Bilgee said it was fine. We followed the lane. There was steam to the left and right. It was pretty spooky. Now I know where the word ice blue comes from. The remaining patches of ice had this beautiful shimmer. It was great to look at. I don’t think the ice cover will last much longer in a few days. They’re going to clear the ferry soon, they said.” “Have you seen them?” I ask. “Yes, it’s a simple wooden thing. From what I’ve heard, you have to pull yourself across on the wire rope. It’s at a narrow place where the Shishged River flows into the Tsagaan Nuur. I’m definitely glad I went on the ride. It was worth it and I had a lot of fun.” “I’m proud of you. That was a great achievement. After all, you rode over 60 kilometers through some difficult terrain in just one day,” I praise. “Oh, it was half as bad. You know how it is. If you have the route in your head, you can manage it. Normally, only the way there would be hard enough. But when we got there, I knew we’d be going back the same day. It’s all a matter of attitude. By the way, Ajush said we should stay overnight. It’s too cold and our horses are too weak, he said. But Bilgee was very pleased with the performance of our animals.” “So everything went smoothly. I’m glad,” I object. “Well, except for one incident.” “What? I thought the trip went smoothly?” “It did go smoothly. But Bilgee’s horse Od slipped on a patch of ice and fell. Bilgee couldn’t get out of the stirrups with his thick felt boots. He lay under the horse like you did last year. I was terrified. I wondered what I should do if he had injured himself. I immediately jumped out of the saddle to help him when he finally got his foot free. Horse and rider got up unharmed and went on as if nothing had happened. You know how he is. He doesn’t say much about such incidents.” “Hm, I know. Od doesn’t seem particularly sure-footed. Bilgee fell on the way to his camp with him just a few days ago, didn’t he?” “Yes, I don’t know if it’s Od’s fault. The ground under the snow was slippery in places.” “It’s a good thing you didn’t fall,” I say thoughtfully. “Yes, good. You’re right,” she says and bites into a slice of bread that is still warm from the oven. Bilgee also enjoys my creation and praises me as the best baker in the taiga. “Now don’t exaggerate,” I say, to which we laugh heartily. At 11 p.m., our husband takes it upon himself to drive the horses into the outdoor camp and sleep in the tent outside in the high valley. “The horses are tired and need to eat overnight,” he says and bids us farewell.

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