chapter three - Things You Don't See From An Airplane

Our trip to Murun took 20 hours. The fun thing about road tripping in Mongolia is that there are no roads to road trip on. They are more like dirt paths or sometimes tire tracks cut along through the countryside. There are no road signs, mile markers, rest stops…pavement. Think of the worst gravel road you’ve ever ridden on. Multiply the worseness by 10 or 15, add high speeds and maybe that will give you an idea of what the entire 20 hours was like.

No one got sick, though. And Jimmy didn’t get lost, not even at night.

Besides, we were able to see what you just can’t possibly see from an airplane: the incredible loveliness that is the Mongolian countryside. Herds and herds of goats, sheep, horses, camels, and yaks passed us by in succession. Broad, rocky mountains jutted up from deep green valleys. Icy blue creeks and rivers cut zig zag through the landscape. We drove through wide desert patches and sparse forest, past ger hashaas** and the very rare vehicle. We watched the sun set behind a row of tree topped mountains.

Somewhere around 10:30 or 11 at night we stopped at a solitary ger to the far northwest of the road-path we’d been following. This was the stop for our Mongolian busmates. Apparently, we made a good impression on them or perhaps they were just very nice people, but before we left them at their ger they hurriedly crammed some dried dairy products in our hands. The things tasted awful but it was a lovely gesture.

I used this brief stop to take out my contacts (having already learned to do so without a mirror) knowing that once we started bumping along the road again, any risk that existed of having my eye poked out on this journey would increase exponentially. Having your eye poked out is not, by the way, a good way to begin any vacation. Just as I was sliding my glasses on, Jimmy hopped up front and we were back rumbling along in our dusty microbus.

At about 4 am, the bus stopped. If you have ever seen the middle of nowhere, that’s where we appeared to be. I think we were all too jostled and groggy to be nervous about this. Jimmy unfolded himself from the front seat and came around to the back door. He slid it open and shouted in at us that we had arrived in Murun.




**culture note: ‘yurt’ is the very ugly but commonly used American word for ‘ger’. a ‘hashaa’ is a yard.