Now we are back in Ulaanbaatar for one day to prepare us for our next excursion. We are signed up to go visit some Nomadic families that live in a National Park. We will be staying with them so there is an orientation to help with questions about what to expect about the different life styles to be encountered. For some reason.......... the orientation ran a bit long and we missed the store that sells plastic bags and rain poncho to protect the gear in case of rain. Not to worry, the forecast is for sunny days all week, besides, we can buy the bags in the morning before we get on the bus. Ha! Mongolia retail stores don't open until after 10:00. No poncho for Boomboom, no plastic bags for backpacks.
The morning started sunny and warm, we boarded the local bus that takes 2-3 hours to travel 60km to the Terelj National Park. We had not seen many trees since arriving in Mongolia so we were looking forward to some greenery. Once through the main gate into the park the most striking image is that this place looks like Yosemite. Large granite outcroppings mixed with fir and cedar forest make it breathtakingly beautiful. As we wind our way through the valley floor toward our drop off point,(where we will be met buy a local herder with an ox cart and some horses for our transportation to his Ger), the sky begins to darken. The farther we move up the valley the darker the sky becomes. Lightening and thunder mix with the grey/black clouds. We are supposed to get off at the LAST stop, whatever that means. Now it starts to rain, not just regular rain that you can pull your coat over your head and run through, but a deluge. Rain drops the size of quarters coming down in sheets so thick you can only see a couple hundred yards. I know we are not at the last stop because there are still a lot of locals on the bus, when a man comes on board and gestures for us to come with him. Ger! Ger! Yoo Come! We pile out of the bus, he has our luggage and we run through the downpour for a tin shed............. I must add here that we boarded the bus with two Frenchmen, an Aussie couple and a guy from Kansas that had been teaching English in Japan for two years and was on his way home via Europe, they too were meeting the Herder. We all stood under the tin roof, the more experienced travelers put on their rain gear while I fumbled for my hat that must have dropped out of my pack on the way to the bus. All of a sudden this large rust/green Soviet troop carrier pulls up in front of the tin shed. The Herder, with hand signals that made no sense, motions for us to get in the back of the troop carrier, which we all gladly do as none of us wants to get on a horse in this heavenly washout. The driver is straight out of central casting, a dark chiseled Mongolian face with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. Does he care much about the load of round eyes in the back of his most worldly possession? The engine starts, no muffler, we hang a U-turn and head toward the swollen river. At the river's edge he drops the transmisson into granny low and creeps forward. The river is about 100 yards wide and not real deep but this is heavy desert rain that can flash flood. Half way across the river, with 3 inches of water sloshing at our feet the loud engine starts to sputter and steam as the water reaches the block. I look at the Frenchman who is about my age and we begin to laugh, like this is just the best. We do make it to the far side of the river where Chacha will describe the rest of our adventure, but now we are headed back to China where I will finish this blog, and describe the bus trip back to Ulaanbaatar, which is just as eventful as this, the yang of this yin.
love
Boomboom
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