Alone in the Gobi

In the distance, a single ger floats on the horizon, flanked by what looks like an off-road outfitted VW bus, but what I’m told is Russian made. The nomadic life in the Gobi is not what I expected. More solitary. Lone families and their herds of goats, horse and camels, seeking pastureland. I had imagined the life to resemble something like a traveling commune. It’s not that, not at all. It’s more in tune with the enormity of the landscape. Quiet, simple. I’m told that children congregate in small towns at the center of each Gobi province to attend school. But out here in the wilderness of late summer it is only family life. Distance must be kept from others so that the animals will have room to graze and not compete with other herds for scarce resources. A hard life it must certainly be, but a humble and rewarding one for the soul, I suspect.

I reach Mongolia in late August, landing in the capital city of Ulaanbaatar in the early evening. The sun still sits high in the sky. I choose not to exploit the sunlight evening hours and venture into the city. My flight to the Gobi takes to the air just after dawn the next day, my pickup at the Ibis Styles Polaris hotel long before it. I choose instead to take a leisurely dinner of lamb at the hotel, enjoy the sunset from its sixth floor deck. Soon after I retire and fade effortlessly to sleep.

At 4:30am, I’m met by my guide from Nomadic Expeditions. She’s a young medical student living in UB. Her grandparents were and remain nomads, and she will be a wellspring of insight into life in the Gobi for the remainder of my too-short time in Mongolia. She greets me with a buoyant smile and a dried homemade yogurt snack. She notes it’s an acquired taste, which I must imagine it is. I accept it willingly and force it down. I’m not much for dairy, less so yogurt. The snack is deeply sour and chewy. I would not fare well with the nomad diet, which consists exclusively of various milks and yogurts and the meat of the animals that produce it.

By six we’re aboard a formidable twin engine Hunnu Air prop plane. And just a little over an hour later we rumble into Dalanzadgad. At the baggage claim there, surrounded by dozens of others ready to embark on their own Gobi adventure, we’re met by our driver. He will take us across open plains to the stunning Three Camel Lodge and later bounce me from one awesome location to the next over the course of several days. He’s a large man with a warm smile and quite experienced. He’s been driving the desert here for upwards of thirty years I’m told. I’m in practiced hands.

Three Camel Lodge

Tugrugiin Shiree

Yol Valley