Okay so this one is about my solo trip to Bogd about two weeks ago. If you recall I was frustrated with people after a particular rancorous barbeque session so I stole away to Bogd, my sole motive to console my grieving soul. Or something.
The colors were perfect, everything tinged with the amber tones of autumn. The first ascent, a steep hike, was mollified by supremely blue skies and wispy clouds overhead. On my approach I noticed a cloud formation, which I wished to capture on camera but the angle was wrong. I needed to ascend to the heights of mighty Bogd in order to photograph this one proper. I figured they'd have dissipated by the time I reached high ground, capricious as clouds are, but not today. That day they were tenacious, cooperative. Thank you clouds.
Onwards and upwards, I came to a rocky outcropping that Jason and I had rested at on our prior outing. Looking across the valley to where the ridge doubled back on itself I saw another look out point and set this as my goal. Such distances are always deceiving to me, I tried to judge how long it would take to come around to but I was completely clueless. I simply hoped for less than two hours trek and pushed onwards.
There was absolutely nobody along my way. The air was still and silent, nature has an innate power to pacify. Suddenly the deep quiet was interrupted by a most peculiar sound. A kind of light ploink like that of a pebble dropping into water only it was coming from above and loud, echoing off the walls of the ranges around me. What on earth? Turned out to be a strange bird that soared overhead. I could not identify.
A murder of crows swooped around me. In the stillness I could hear the swooshing of their wings. It was so surreal. I've been on this earth nigh thirty years now and never before have I heard crows flapping. How is this possible? Perhaps this is a unique feature found only in the Mongolian flock? Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.
By and by I came upon my goal. A boulder field abruptly interrupted the coniferous forest loam signaling my arrival. The closer I approached the outcropping the larger the rocks became. They were enormous, towering structures which appeared to have been deposited by giants. Geologists be damned there is no other rational explanation!
I clambered over these monstrosities, my pervasive curiosity overcoming any notions of safety. One portion proving too steep to climb required an application of my wits. I dug my hands into a cleft and shimmied my way underneath a great overhang (so cold in the shadow, fingers going numb) so as to intersect another cleft and pull myself over. Agility and wits combined to carry me to the top. And a majestic view, cobalt firmament spanning steely mountain and distant UB shimmering on the horizon.
It was right chilly upon my perch. I zippered up my vest and lay back against the sun warmed stone. Eyes closed as I slipped into oblivion. No damnable human to ruin the mood. Save the ever flapping crows I was alone. Blessed be.
Quickly I scurried back wishing to catch the sunset over my hearts despair, filthy UB with her brown clouds of carbon smoke and her traffic choked streets. The dying rays blazed long over amber mountain meadows. The golden hour. The picture of sublimity.
My refreshed soul carried me back down the slope and on to "SuperMarket" a store on this wealthy end of town where I can purchase such western items as bacon, alfredo sauce, and (LordHa'Mercy) Root Beer! Blessed Root Beer! And to think, 16oz tall boys. Satisfaction in a can. Huzzah!
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