[Retro Post - This is an old post from my old site ]

Part of the Mongolia experience involves spending lots of time in a vehicle of your choice. For us Monguni riders, it was an old-school van straight out of the movie, Little Miss Sunshine.

Our Van.

We sometimes sat around like that too.

Told ya

Needless to say, we were all pretty excited despite the very rough terrain. Vans like this don’t come with suspension and there were no proper paved roads outside of the city. Every few minutes, we’d be rolling along some rocks and hitting our heads and knees against parts of the van.Our trip started with a ride from Ulaanbaatar to Tsetserleg which took all morning and afternoon. The blue skies soon darkened and a storm loomed. We had asked about the sort of weather to expect previously and Scott, one of our riding guides said to expect anything between hail and sun. Still, it took us completely by surprise when we drove into a hailstorm.

Now this is the first time I’m witnessing a hailstorm and I guess the same goes too for some in the van so we stopped for a break just to take in the sight. Some of the guys went into a frenzy, whipped off their tees and pranced around in the open fields in some sort of raindance display. Oh, how we laughed and played.

The Gods must have been pleased because the sun came out soon after, melting the ice. It became a full-blown thunderstorm by the time we reached camp. It was a very miserable existence because it must have been something like 5 degrees and we were all in our day clothes, cowering in the lunch tent. We waited for the storm to die down. It didn’t. My clothes were wet but I was in a tee and shorts so I didn’t feel as gross but I didn’t feel much of my appendages either so maybe it’s not saying much.

The rain did die down slightly eventually and we set up our tents before it got dark. The insides of the tents got damp from the rain and our stuff got wet. By the time we were settled, the skies were dark and I couldn’t exactly get dressed in weather-appropriate attire – not that I brought any for the cold. I had a tee, a jacket and a pair of the thinnest cotton pants on and tried to snuggle in my sleeping bag. The sleeping bag is NOT rated for the temperatures it says it is. Tip: Don’t buy sleeping bags on sale from Carrefour.

I think I probably slept no more than three hours that day and woke up a couple of times in the night when I couldn’t feel my toes at all. It was very morbidly amusing that the thought that I could actually lose toes to frostbite came to mind. I remember wiggling my toes often so they wouldn’t stiffen up and fall off. I actually felt scared we’d be riding in weather like that the next day but thankfully enough, the rest of our trip was sunny and warm(er)…

…until our last night, that is.

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Like all good horror movies, the weird weather returned. There seemed to be some light rain the night before and the morning events unfolded more or less like this -

6am: The howling of the wind and the angry splats of raindrops wake me up. We were due for breakfast at 7 but I can’t hear anyone outside. They must still be asleep. I go back to sleep.

630am: The winds and rain got louder. I took a peek out of my sleeping bag and saw that my side of the tent was blowing quite violently. Still no one can be heard. Ah, breakfast must have been delayed. More sleep.

7+am: The rain and winds got EVEN louder. Still no busy chatter from the outside. I peeled off my sleeping bag from my face and saw that my entire tent has now flopped over on the other side, crushing my tent mate. Flashback moment here – on the second morning, she explained she woke to the cord of her sleeping bag around her neck and mused about what I’d do if I woke up to her blue body beside me. I probably gave a yelp of alarm and tried to push the tent away from her with my feet, both of which are still in the sleeping bag. She’s fine. The winds are VERY strong and I have some difficulty holding up the tent with my feet. She later tells me I looked like a worm; a very amusing sight.

Sand filters in from the outside and falls on my face, annoying my nose and making it slightly hard to breathe. I’m tired and seeing how it’s futile for me to hold the tent up anymore, I figured I should go back to sleep and hope the rain would go away.

8am: Someone’s face is peeking into the tent on my side. “Don’t worry! We’ll help you get out!” I wake up immediately. The tent is still flopping over.I wake up immediately and check if my tent mate is still alive. Good. I unzip the tent and saw that the lunch tent (about 20m away) is now collapsed in a pile. 3-4 people are fighting to put a tent down and everyone else is sort of looking panicky and packing up. It’s apparently not raining and the noise was entirely due to the strong winds.

In a mild state of confusion, I get out out, grab my stuff out and stand around as a few people came to our ‘rescue’, unpegging our tent and fighting it down. The wind is so strong I can lean forward quite a bit and not fall flat on my face. I can now see that the toilet tent too has collapsed and blown away from the toilet. The Mongolian crew (who are probably used to freak weather) are now briskly packing up and helping us with our baggage and eventually, we’re led to a nearby ger camp to have breakfast indoors.

We find out later that day that while we were sleeping in our tent and hoping that the wind would go away, people on the outside were wondering how we could sleep through and be completely ignorant of the raging winds.