5/11 Perfect Day

Perfect day. So much so that I dare call my new camp Perfecto Ridge. I love this place, I really do. Hiking around with the lumbar pack was awesome! Below the ridge on the western side the pine forest becomes boggy tussocks. Hiking this area was really nice because I got to movee from one landscape to another. The bogs are just weird to me. I looked a t few puddles but they just turned me off. The water appeared stagnant and germ infested. I was waiting for one that felt right.

I made my way to the lake. I swear if you stood still you could hear the ice melting. It sounded a bit like rain. Then it hit me...at the shores edge little areas of ice had melted to reveal cool, fresh water. Eureka! Why didn't I think of this before? Earlier when I made it to shore the lake was completely frozen. I didn't even try to break shore ice but maybe I should have. I guess that threw me off. Who knows, maybe last nights rain did the trick.

I set about the work of filter pumping the water. Such an exciting mechanism. It feels so right to gather water in this way. Up shore I could see my Slope of Good Hope. The way wasn't as treacherous as I had originally imagined. I could've walked the shoreline almost all the way, climbing only upon reaching the slope and saving myself a lot of hurt. Bogus.

Storm clouds roll in. I scurry back to my special ridge. Before long the sun breaks through triumphant. The ground in this area looks awesome in this light. Brown needle fall ignites fiery red in late afternoon light. Ahead I stumble across my ridge. I'm much farther north of my camp and nearer the lake. The land here is immaculate. Striations of sedimentary rock painted an orange ochre with lichen and turned upward by earth forces support soft, bubbly mounds of moss deeply embedded with fallen needles. In the fading light this perfect mesh of materials is absolutely sublime.

Back to camp, I set up my nights habitat as the sun sinks below distant peaks. I cook a big pot of couscous and hunker down for the night. Tomorrow I shall explore the way down from my ridge to shore. I will proceed to return to the Slope of Good Hope to retrieve lost socks. After I will return to explore the opposite expanse of this ridge at which point I will know how best to proceed to the next camp. Sounds like a promising day.

Tussock Land below my camp

Dodgy Water Source

Perfecto Ridge

Pine Needles Embedded In Soft Moss Over Lichen Encrusted Rock

Get Some!

5/11 First Post

Indeed it rained. A drizzle really, nothing to fret about. Slept quite a bit more and awoke near sundown. Decided a fire would be appropriate and built one. Small really. I had no intention in staying up late. Burnt my old socks. A poor sacrifice, nonetheless satisfying. Stars came out but not as strong as the other night. Probably have to wait for deeper darkness. Too cold, off to bed.

Many vivid dreams, mostly amusing. Paranoia absent this time. A girl in a coffee shop told me she was the physical manifestation of Ariel Molvig's subconscious. WTF does that even mean?

Slept in late, again. Went about melting more snow, this time with my gas stove. It was still slow going, low yeild. I was nervous that I was wasting fuel. One resource for another. The resulting water was dirty with pine flavor. Weird.

I've decided to make my way back, slowly. From my Slope of Good Hope I can trace my progress and mark my course. Follow the ridge to another outcropping (maybe 3hrs hike.) Rest there for another day and a half. Repeat.

The ridge turned out to cut in too far south. I lost sight of my destination so I headed in the direction of the lake following deer runs. Came across quite a few boggy areas amidst the dense forest. I bet this place is extra boggy in summer.

Suddenly, out of the wood, my destination appeared! A majestic hill rising sharply from the forest loam. Atop were fantastic views. An even better campsite than Slope of Good Hope, if you can believe it.

I found a fox torn apart by an eagle. What a sight. Birds soar all about this area. Other raptors I'm sure aren't eagles, vultures perhaps? Or condors. One of them makes that odd watery clucking sound I heard before on Bogd. Fascinating.

So I've decided to filter pump the puddles in Tussock Land after all. The snow melt thang aint workin' and I need a new solution. I think this is better than trying to break through lake ice, who knows how thick it is. Joe's pack has an ingenious way about it. You can detach the hip belt and the lid sack to create a lumbar pack. Thus you can leave your gear behind at base camp and venture forth on small excursions. I'm going to try it out on my search for water below. Oh, I hope this water doesn't make me sick!

Pix from first post of 5/11

Decided a fire would be appropriate.

From my Slope of Good Hope I could trace my progress and mark my course.

Suddenly, out of the wood, my destination appeared!

An even better camp site than Slope of Good Hope. Amazing!

A view of last nights camp from my new camp.

What is it?

Nature, red in tooth and claw.

5/10/10

Good day for resting. Slept in. Sun blazing through my tent woke me. Set about drying clothes on a rock, attempting a passive solar melt of snow for drink water. Laid down again. Awoke again when sun proved too hot. Shoes are dry.

I took a walk down my slope towards lake shore, first in wool socks Mom made then barefoot. Slope ends in a dramatic cliff to shore. This is the sight that convinced me to climb early yesterday. It's beautiful here. And so quiet. It seems most of the world hasn't woken from winter yet. Just as well. I'm sure this place is dope in summer, but now is a unique calm.

A flock of birds whiz by maybe 60 yards away. I'm surprised to hear their bodies cutting through the air. Is it due to the ambient silence or something exclusive about Mongolian air? Reminds me of the crows on Bogd.

Clouds roll in, temperature drops. Appears to be raining on the western shore. Could rain here soon. Back to tent to hunker down. Read a bit, maybe sleep. Have a nice dream.

Pix for 5/10

5/9

Fuck it.

I'm a plunk down here. Nice enough spot. Besides my body's destroyed. Wet shoes worked a number on me feet. I knew I shoulda got a new shoelace back in UB. My ankle is bummin! Seriously! What's more my hips are feeling the burn from the hip belt on my pack. I think it was built for someone with a longer torso than me. I probably packed it too heavy as well.

The last three hours of hiking proved to be badass! After my rest on the hillock I found no more fences. I shambled along high ground hugging the shore. This was more larch forest with a rich forest loam padding my footfalls. Soon after the larch cleared and more tussocks emerged. No dastardly puddles this time, just uneven ground. I followed them down to the shore, this time a proper beach complete with skipping stones. No water to skip on. Only ice. Just as well. I can't skip stones fo' shit. I caught a glimpse of the expanse of the lake. D-damn! It's huge! Now I really want to come back in the summer. It would be nice to take a canoe out. Drink directly from the middle.

My water supply is running low. I was hoping to come across feeder streams into the lake but no such luck. Perhaps it's too early yet. Khuvsguul is like back in time two weeks. Further ahead more tussocks. Big puddles this time, but big mounds too. Less risky. I contemplated filter pumping from these deep pools. Maybe too dangerous. Still water. Besides there's horse shit everywhere. Who knows what contagion they contain.

Ahead the lake takes a bend and soldiers on amid more promising hillocks. I promise to make it that far. I begin to climb along with my northbound progress. The hillocks ahead looked like a steep climb from the shore. Don't want to get stuck with an impossible jaunt. At this point my ankles are starting to give and my hips are screaming at me. Snow is soaking my inadequate shoes. Must take the ridge.

Eventually I come across a bare slope from ridge to shore. With the last of my strength I haul ass to the top. Outlandish. Perfect view. I've decided this is where I'll stay.

I stripped down to B-day suit and lay in the sun until mountain breeze cooled me off. Change of plans. Rest up for days remainder. Rest up tomorrow. Get them ankles back into shape. Dry out them shoes. Change clothes. Plan B says this is as far north as I venture. Easy does it walk the ridge back to Khatgal. No need to kill myself. Besides the lake looks better from this vantage. No blasted tussocks on the ridge. Alugnut!

Pix for 5/9

5/8-5/9

Oh, arduous day!

One thing I dislike about depending on others is I'm the one with the agenda, not them. Yesterday (5/8) we went to the market to find a ride. No takers. We ended up waiting around for hours, I was getting frustrated. I wanted everything to go my way, time was wasting. Finally Gambaa located a man willing to make the drive for 80,000Tug ($55.) I thought it a bit expensive but Gambaa and Boloroo were coming along too and riding back that night. So I guess I was paying their roundtrip passage. Whatever.

So we disembarked at 1pm landing us in Khatgal by 5pm. The ride up was more of the same, bumpy washed out tracks in the mud. There appeared to be a proper highway in development but it was mostly blocked off by high mounds of gravel.

Upon our arrival in Khatgal we found no one prepared to accommodate tourists. I guess I got in early. Fine by me. I hate people. We dallied about, taking photos by ye olde Sukhbaatar boat and searching for drivers for my return. Again no takers. Finally my driver agreed to return next Sunday (5/16) and return to Muhrun for another 80,000Tug. Fine. We dined on Tsuuven before driving me over the bridge and seeing me off. Alone at last.

No offense to Gambaa and Boloroo. They're great people. Extremely generous, going above and beyond the call of duty. But I came here to get away from civilization for a time. A year struggle in the rough city has taken it's toll. I must acquire balance.

So I headed north along Elgin Gol (river.) By now it was about 6:30 (I have no time piece.) The light was getting long. Through larch forest with red brown needles covering the floor, an eagle takes flight. I'm choosing to interpret this a good omen. Near the river the land flattens, then turns marshy. Tussocks rise above soupy land. I was warned of this. Easy to slip and drench your feet. I was advised to wear condoms on my feet to keep out moisture. I failed to heed this warning and, schluuup, got wet. Sun down, I'm still in marshland. Heat fades quickly. I make it to woods edge and prepare camp. No cooking tonight. We just ate. Hunker down to read, then pass out.

Cold night. I get up in the middle to pee and see brilliant stars for the first time in months. Too cold to admire I jump back in tent , covering myself with bag liner for extra warmth. No avail. Sleep is fitful, punctuated by anxious dreams and paranoid auditory hallucinations. Mongolian Nazis await outside my camp with black surgical masks. Cows are eating my tent. I woke up to the sound of livestock approaching and poke my head out.

"Sain Baen Ew!"

A nice young man, brimming with curiosity, parks himself outside my tent to converse. I'm from America, I'm going to Khuvsguul, I'll be trekking for seven days (forgot to mention I've lost two days to transport issues.) Momentarily he departs to his daily duties. "Dza, Byarshtae." So different than city folk. Gentle, polite, curious, patient and respectful of privacy and property.

Make breakfast, break camp and I'm off. Day started with frost on the ground but quickly melts. My frozen shoes are burning as they thaw, then are wet again. More tussocks. Thankfully frozen. Then a strange sight, wood fence blocking prime viewing hillock. Must skirt it. Back to the river, looking good in a frozen way. Ahead another promising hillock and again fenced off. Trek around is greater this time. How disappointing.

Now it's noon and I'm atop a splendid outcropping. Below, is the lake. All around is silence. Finally there is peace. Soon I will march forward, but lie back, rest for now. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Pix for 5/8-5/9