While I slept I kept one ear open for the camel men and camels. At two on the morning when I got up and looked outside they had still not arrived. Then at 4:00 a.m. I glanced out again and in the light of a slightly less than Full Waning Moon (84.148% illumination) I saw our eight camels all in a sitting position, thoughtfully chewing their cuds. Amazingly the camel men had arrived without the usual ruckus of shouted commands and snorting and baying camels and apparently had gone off to sleep in the ger of the watchman. I got up at 5:30, built a camp fire of saxual wood at the base of the mountain near the guest house and when the sun rose at 6:09 I was contentedly sipping the fourth or fifth bowl of five-year-old Puerh Tea of the dozen or so that I usually have for breakfast. The camel men did not get up until 9:30, explaining that they had rode most of the night and had only arrived at 3:30 a.m. After a few bowls of tea (I gave them Lapsang Souchong, or Caravan Tea) and some bortsog they immediately began to pack the camels. We had three water containers, a metal milk can holding 40 liters and two plastic jugs holding 20 liters each. Since we expected to reached Otgonii Bulag, the next source of water, by noon of our second day, we took only one 20 liter jug of water from here at Tsagaan Bugasny Bulag. Sükhee and Tsogoo sorted the loads and divided them between our three pack camels and by 11:00 we were off. From here to Ülzii Bilegt, the site of Dambijantsan’s Hideout, is exactly 200 kilometers ATCF, or 124 miles, a distance we hoped to cover in six or seven days.
Our camels resting at Tsagaan Bugasny Bulag 
Sükhee checks our meat supply: one sheep and one goat
Tsogoo and Sükhee balancing the camel loadsOur route first took us through a mountain range known as Edriin Nuruu, which rises out of the desert floor at around 4000 feet elevation about five miles west of Tsagaan Burgasny Bulag and trends eastward through Gobi-Altai Aimag and into Bayankhongor Aiimag. The highest peak in the range is 6811-foot Yumt Uul, not far east of of Tsagaan Burgasny Bulag. We proceeded up a narrow draw known as Khar Khundii, crossed a low pass, and descended through another draw known as Khüren Dovkhiin Khooloi.
Proceeding into the Edriin Nuruu
The jagged peaks of Edriin Nuruu
Crossing the pass through the Edriin Nuruu
Emerging from Edriin Nuruu out onto the desert floorWe stopped for a late lunch at a place called Sukhai Khudag, located right where the trail debouches from the mountains out onto the flat desert floor. There is a well (khudag) here, but it is currently dry. “Sukhai” is a kind of bush that grows in large clumps reaching ten or twelve feet high. The small trunks of the bush, which don’t get much larger than a broom handle, are the favorite material for the handles of taishir, the short whips used by camel men to encourage their camels.
Sukhai bushes in autumn colorsThe rest of the day we traveled across flat desert sparsely vegetated with saxaul and wormwood bushes. After the difficult passage through the mountains the camels quickly assumed their well-regulated paces. Camels of course can trot, and camel races are quite the thing, especially in Omnogov Aimag, but on a long-distance trip like this, with the pack camels carrying precariously balanced loads, the camels are seldom trotted. Trotting aside, camels have two walking speeds, slow and slower. When they are relatively fresh and rested, as ours were at the moment, they plod along hour after hour at an average of 5.4 kilometers (3.35 mlies) per hour. At the end of a long tiring day, or after a few long days of travel, they often shift into lower gear, covering an average of 4.7 kilometers (2.93 miles) an hour) per hours. I have tracked the pace of camels for hours and the pace never really varies much from these two speeds. This makes it quite easy to calculate traveling times. Assuming the terrain is more-or-less level and your camels are still fresh, you can expect to travel about thirty-seven kilometers in eight hours of travel. This was the pace we would try to maintain throughout the trip.
While plodding along I questioned Tsogoo about our mounts. Camels have a life-span of about thirty years, and my camel was about twenty-years old. I was a bit surprised to discover that it was about six months pregnant. Camels have a gestation period of one-year, mating usually around March and giving birth in March of the following year. Mojik’s camel was the offspring of my camel and was also six months pregnant. I expressed my concern that this trip might be difficult for these mothers to-be. On a previous camel trip in Bayankhongor the camel one of the camel men had been riding had aborted its six-month old fetus while we were on the march. The camel stood moaning over the dead fetus for about ten minutes—I swear there were tears in her eyes—before the camel man mounted up and we went on our way without any further ado. Tsogoo told me not be worry, however; he claimed that a trip like this was nothing for six-month pregnant camel. In fact, the exercise might have salubrious effects on the camel, which otherwise would have just sat around all day chewing its cud. Just to careful, he told me, not to kick the camel in the stomach or hit it in the stomach with my taishir.
He also allowed that he had brought the two pregnant camels along for a reason. Pregnant camels, he claimed, are very protective of even their unborn young, and as a result are not prone to acting up and engaging in any wild shenanigans. He did not know how experienced Mojik and I were at riding camels so he thought pregnant ones—tending to be calmer and more well-mannered—might be best for us. He claimed that two pregnant camels would also have a calming effect on the rest of the camels. This was especially important since two of the camels he had brought along were three-year-olds who had not been been fully trained to kneel and sit down on command. In order to make these camels kneel Tsogoo had tied a rope around their right ankle and then ran the rope behind their front hump. When he wanted one of them to kneel he pulled on rope, jerking the right leg up from under the camel. Unable or unwilling to stand on only one leg the camel quickly kneeled down on its front legs. Unable to stand for long on its back legs in this position it then sat down completely, although often not without complaint. To show its displeasure it often spit clods of green, vile smelling cud at anyone with in range. An old camel hand like Tsogoo took this in stride. He didn’t even bother brushing the clods of cud off his deel. He just let it dry and fall off of it own accord.
While plodding along I questioned Tsogoo about our mounts. Camels have a life-span of about thirty years, and my camel was about twenty-years old. I was a bit surprised to discover that it was about six months pregnant. Camels have a gestation period of one-year, mating usually around March and giving birth in March of the following year. Mojik’s camel was the offspring of my camel and was also six months pregnant. I expressed my concern that this trip might be difficult for these mothers to-be. On a previous camel trip in Bayankhongor the camel one of the camel men had been riding had aborted its six-month old fetus while we were on the march. The camel stood moaning over the dead fetus for about ten minutes—I swear there were tears in her eyes—before the camel man mounted up and we went on our way without any further ado. Tsogoo told me not be worry, however; he claimed that a trip like this was nothing for six-month pregnant camel. In fact, the exercise might have salubrious effects on the camel, which otherwise would have just sat around all day chewing its cud. Just to careful, he told me, not to kick the camel in the stomach or hit it in the stomach with my taishir.
He also allowed that he had brought the two pregnant camels along for a reason. Pregnant camels, he claimed, are very protective of even their unborn young, and as a result are not prone to acting up and engaging in any wild shenanigans. He did not know how experienced Mojik and I were at riding camels so he thought pregnant ones—tending to be calmer and more well-mannered—might be best for us. He claimed that two pregnant camels would also have a calming effect on the rest of the camels. This was especially important since two of the camels he had brought along were three-year-olds who had not been been fully trained to kneel and sit down on command. In order to make these camels kneel Tsogoo had tied a rope around their right ankle and then ran the rope behind their front hump. When he wanted one of them to kneel he pulled on rope, jerking the right leg up from under the camel. Unable or unwilling to stand on only one leg the camel quickly kneeled down on its front legs. Unable to stand for long on its back legs in this position it then sat down completely, although often not without complaint. To show its displeasure it often spit clods of green, vile smelling cud at anyone with in range. An old camel hand like Tsogoo took this in stride. He didn’t even bother brushing the clods of cud off his deel. He just let it dry and fall off of it own accord.
Heading south from Edriin NuruuWe rode that night until about 6:45, fifteen minutes after the sun set, and camped on the gravel flats, amidst plenty of saxaul wood. What with the late start and lunch break we covered only twenty-six kilometers for the day. As usual in the desert I did not set up a tent—just threw a carpet out on the sand and slept under the stars, or as they say, “in the Big Tent.” A dead calm night and amazing warm—45º at three in the morning. Orion dominates the southeast sky in the morning hours. The moon is now illuminated 75%, limiting star viewing somewhat, but I expect some spectacular skies before the trip is over—the New Moon is on the 11th.
We moved on at 9:00 the next morning and reached Otgonii Bulag, in a canyon on the north side of Otgon Uul, at about 12:00. The small spring, located along one of the canyon walls, is covered with green algae, but Tsogoo assures us that the water is quite good. It is icy cold and sweet-tasting, but the true test will come at our lunch break when we make tea from it. We fill all of our three containers for a total of 80 liters of water. From here to the next water at Shar Khuls is 145 kilometers (90 miles), which should take us three and a half days to cover.
Camp Boss Uyanga dipping water out of Otgonii Bulag
We moved on at 9:00 the next morning and reached Otgonii Bulag, in a canyon on the north side of Otgon Uul, at about 12:00. The small spring, located along one of the canyon walls, is covered with green algae, but Tsogoo assures us that the water is quite good. It is icy cold and sweet-tasting, but the true test will come at our lunch break when we make tea from it. We fill all of our three containers for a total of 80 liters of water. From here to the next water at Shar Khuls is 145 kilometers (90 miles), which should take us three and a half days to cover.
Camp Boss Uyanga dipping water out of Otgonii Bulag
Uyanga tickled pink by the pure, sweet water of Otgonii Bulag
My camel enjoying a sip of water at Otgonii Bulag.
I ask you, have you ever seen a lovelier camel?
