Day 40: Kharkhorin to Orkhon Valley , The van tour (Day 2)

A thin slit in the toilet door provides a panoramic view of the landscape.
Slice of heaven.

Today

  1. Rough sleeper
  2. Lunch at the river
  3. Kharkhorin Rock
  4. Orkhon Valley National Park Tourism Zone
  5. Red Waterfall
  6. Moving on
  7. Horse riding
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Map showing the co-ordinates latitude 46.76632 and longitude 101.96087.

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Day 40/298
Tour progress 13%

A rough night makes way for an idyllic day of waterfalls and horse riding.

Rough sleeper

I had a rough sleep last night.

When I woke at 4am, the inside of the ger was dark and claustrophobic. Somehow I found my way outside to throw up.

Yet somehow I can also face breakfast now. We cook up some nice porridge and I drink lots of water to flush away the mysterious bug. I’m staying away from the sweet bread.

Lunch at the river

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A man and woman prepare a picnic next to a river and grazing cattle.
Lunch stop.

Today’s itinerary is Waterfall (horse riding).

It’s really hot in the van. I wish that I was out there, actively seeking destinations on my bike, rather than stuck in here, passively being chauffeured to them. The others seem happy to sit back and enjoy the ride. I guess that life is learning what works for you.

We make an unplanned stop for lunch. It’s a most idyllic scene. Clear, still water, reflects the hills. And yaks, sheep, goats, cows and horses go about their business.

Kharkhorin Rock

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Red and white petrol pumps.
Refuelling again.
A No Entry sign and white fenceposts with red stripes.
No entry.
A large stone penis surrounded by a metal cage.
Rock hard.
A black bird sits on a green hill.
Raven of the rock.
Looking out the car windshield at tracks in the grass.
Making tracks.
An elevated view of Kharkhorin and Erdene Zuu monastery.
Kharkhorin and Erdene Zuu Khiid.

We refuel then head up the hill.

Kharkhorin Rock is, unbelievably, a stone penis. A fence keeps vandals away, but I doubt even the infamous Western c*ck and balls graffiti could match this.

Orkhon Valley National Park Tourism Zone

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Unfocussed picture of a metal gate.
Park entrance.
A green wooden sign with a rectangular hole in the centre.
Orkhon Valley National Park Tourism Zone.
A photo of me with the river in the background.
River selfie.
A sign depicts a ger, a tree and a man falling off a cliff.
Watch your step.
Our driver sits and waits next to the van.
Van and driver.

Driving through a Protected Area costs us ₮ 3000 ($1.77) each.

Apart from a river, the landscape doesn’t appear to have changed much. But we dutifully get out and take pictures of ourselves and each other.

Red Waterfall

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Depressions in the grass left by gers.
Ger circles.
Cattle graze next to their reflections on the river bank.
River action.
Brown grass, rocks and water on the river bed.
River bed.
Elevated view of the river, forest and hills.
Prayer flags above the river.
A foaming waterfall plunges down a rock face.
Red Waterfall.
Members of the tour part pick their way down the steep rocky hillside.
Navigating the sketchy descent.
Spray painted graffiti on a natural rock wall.
Nature tagged.
Three people walk towards the hills, following tyre tracks in the grass.
Returning from the Red Waterfall.
A thin slit in the toilet door provides a panoramic view of the landscape.
Slice of heaven.

The river meanders by, springy grass carpeting the sharp edges of the rocks on its banks.

The sketchy descent down to the base of the waterfall makes me chuckle. Despite the Protected Area charge, it’s clear that Health and Safety is not a thing here yet.

The driver dares us to go for a swim. It’s cold but he is impressed. I’m impressed that I impressed a Mongol.

I have a 100% success rate of hitting my head on the way out of the long drop.

Moving on

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Young men wait next to a ger doorway and piles of belongings.
Deconstructed ger.
A green army jeep tows a small trailer stacked with belongings.
Moving house.

At the Ger camp, an attractive young lady comes out to greet us, followed by an older version of herself.

After showing us to our small cosy ger, with ornately painted bed frames, they invite us into theirs. There we’re served tea with cow milk and salt, and yummy (homemade?) shortbread biscuits.

We’re lucky they’re still here – the neighbours obviously have other plans. They’re at various stages of deconstructing their homes and piling them onto trailers. Winter is coming, after all.

Horse riding

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A female tourist stands next to a brown horse.
Horse to ride.
A hand pats a horseʼs head.
Pet horse.
Silhouette of a horse on sand.
Shadowy figures.
A hand loosely holds a moving horseʼs reins.
Riding.
Tourists on horses in a golden landscape.
Great way to see the country.
Water foams next to rocks and the yellow leaves of a tree.
Small waterfall.
Horses and their riders wait in the distance.
Horses.
Riders adjust their horsesʼ saddles.
Horses close-up.
A red jacketed arm holds the reins of a moving horse.
That way!

A man in a green cloak brings 4 horses over to the camp for a 2 hour riding session.

We move at a slow pace, crossing several rivers before arriving at a medium sized waterfall.

Even out of the van here, it is hot. My new chauffeur, the horse, is doing all the work, but I’m starting to overheat in my puffer and merino vest.

Our guide, Maagi, shows us how to ride the horses. He issues commands of left, right and straight ahead in French. Often he deliberately mixes these up, then laughs and says sorree!

We take his quirky good natured humour in our stride. It’s hard to be annoyed when you’re riding a beautiful horse through a picture-perfect landscape in the hot sun.

But as the sun sets, the temperature plummets and so too does our tolerance. I’m glad of my extra layers, but even they are not enough to stave off the biting cold.

Our guide seems in no hurry, but all three of us hope that we will reach camp soon.

First written 11th October 2015.

Last updated 4th December 2023.

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