Mogis hunting instinct and travel with a time machine

A wonderful cloudless blue sky receives us today’s morning. From the minus degrees last night nothing more is to be felt. At the moment we have 30 degrees sun. This is a difference in temperature between day and night of 38 degrees. Only this crass difference between warmly and coldly shows what a hard country Mongolia is. Everything can change presently. From nicely too unsightly. From hotly too bitterly coldly. From sunshine to snowfall. From friendly too unfriendly. There can simply anything happen. As soon as we feel sure and everything runs after plan something is happening we even did not count in our dreams with. Flexibility, calmness, openness and acceptance are elementary virtues in this country

I sit just in the saddle, consider myself the nice scenery hardly to be described and following my thoughts. Finally, my head becomes freer again. The making sick everyday stress of our industrial country drops with every day more and more. I note a free mind. A mind not filled by an immense traffic of thoughts, only stress causing. Senseless stress. Even life can be arduous, massive strenuous and uncomfortable here outdoors in the wilderness it gets a deeper quality. Every day is fortified thus with experiences and emotions that I believe one week to have lived. One week has the purpose in life of one month again. If we are lucky in this time span things happen to us and influencing our life forever and give us a long lasting stamp. How I might experience already more often during a journey one or other moments did feel like I would undertake a trip in the past with a time machine. It feels thus as if my life was extended by a multiple. So as if I was catapulted with my body and mind by space and time to experience stories I would need many incarnations if I had one of the norm suitable lives. It is a strange and also nice feeling. It is a feeling between living a live with all comfort and being totally free. It is a feeling between having a nice hot bath or to freeze in an unwashed body. Wearing clean and odoriferous clothes or clothes being full of dirt and smelling the smoke of campfire. To satisfy hunger with food someone likes or having something unusual to eat with lots of fat ore the innards of a nanny goat. It is a feeling between missing a nice bed or sleeping in the same sleeping-bag for months. A putatively sure roof over the head or a humid tent square fluttering in the storm. Maybe it is just the friction between both contrasts. The contrasts from Comfortable and Uncomfortable making my life more intense and add salt to the soup of life. If I would sit at home at my writing desk I would never get to know on thousand and one unforgettable stories and experience. Even if I wish my self out of here in some situations to let anoint my body mind and soul in the western consumption world, I mostly prefer the life here outdoors. It simply offers more fullness and is more intensive.

ÑDenis look! Is this there in front a sheep?ì, calls Tanja. ÑLooks likeì, I answer and observe the animal obviously desolate by his cookers. Now also Mogi has discovered it and races like an arrow towards the lonesome animal. Ñ He will not attack the sheep?ì, I shout. Hardly I have closed my mouth he reached the sheep and hunts it. ÑThis looks not good!ì, shouts Tanja and we gallop towards the sheep to protect it from our mad dog. With shock we see how Mogi is pulling the poor animal on the ground and is biting it.
ÑMogi! Mogiiiii! Stop itì, we roar without any success. I rise from the horse and give the reins to Tanja. Then I run after the dog. The sheep was able to get free, nevertheless, Mogi has got it again this time in the nape. Ulzii runs along me and also roars at Mogi. ÑHold the sheep! Just for God’s sake the sheep!ì I call out of breath because then we have the possibility to protect it against this dog. Ulzii reaches the sheep and takes it between his protecting legs. He steps after the incredibly behaving dog. Mogi is still untiringly trying to bite the sheep. With rattling lung I reach the place of the unequal fight. ÑMogiiii! Leave the sheep alone!ì, I roar pack him on his collar and flings him so by the air that he skips about 360 degrees. Hardly again on his legs he attacks again. He seems to be completely crazy. His hunting instinct is developed obviously so strongly that he does not perceive his outside world any more. I give him some steps and catch him in the nape. He looks at me and it seems like my voice is reaching him now. Ulzii and I examine the Sheep. It is injured under the right front shoulder. It does not look dangerous. We release it. Grumbling and completely timidly it jumps away, while Mogi would like to follow it with excitement. ÑIf a shepherd would observe Mogi while hunting he would shoot himì, explains Ulzii. ÑHumph, he is a dog grown up in town. He does not know no sheep, nanny goats, and horses and what else is running around. I have no idea how we can get ride of his hunting habitì, I answer with burning and aching lungs. ÑWe may not let him go any more freelyì, considers Ulzii. ÑWho knows, maybe getting beaten was instructive for him?ì, I hope.

At noon we have rest at approx. 28 degrees in the sun. We sat down together in the dry grass, drinking tea from the thermos jug, eating peanuts, biscuits, a glass of cucumbers and a few peaces of cheese. ÑIt is fantastic as warmly it has become againì, I swarm. ÑYes in September it can be still warm during the day. This is normal here. Only the nights are often quite cold. Moreover, there is in autumn little precipitation. So this is also the time of forest firesì, explains Bilgee.

Because of water priority we find only at 06:30 p.m. a suitable camp again. After 30 kilometer and sixth hours in the saddle we are rather tired. Tomorrow We would like to make for two days rest camp here. Bilgee would like to continue for one more day. Because the success of this expedition to a large part also from the motivation maintenance of our men depends we agree with pleasure.

In the evening we sit together in front of our horse carriage and see in the crackling fire wile drinking tea. The thermometer stands on zero degree and presents a relatively warm night to us. As the moon rises he dips the valley and the close mountains in a miraculous blue light. Horse cookers come visit us. Their snorting let Mogi look up. He barks to show us that stranger have come to the camp. Only horses Mogiì, calms him Tanja.