The skies cleared overnight, I woke to the sounds of munching outside my tent – surely the others weren’t up already and eating so close. Poking my head out, we were surrounded by breakfasting yaks! By the time I got out the door, they’d dispersed somewhat.

Heading back to the track, with some indications it might be a bit rocky.

It was more than twenty kilometres of rocky descent – good fun, but not quick.

Some big ger camps broke up the green.

Holding pen which was mostly fenced by rocks.

I was surprised to suddenly see a scrawny wee fox running across the track – the only one we saw.

Valley starting to widen a bit now.

Unusually, we met a group of four bikepackers – we’d only seen a lone bikepacker, days ago, so far. Even more unusually, they were from Bengaluru – we enjoyed sharing stories of past and current trips. We were pleased to hear the route was about to get smoother for us. We may have couched our stories of just how rough things were about to get for them – especially as half the group was on skinnier-tyre gravel bikes.

A good spot to pause and watch bikers, Priuses and cattle go past.

Too easy.

More large ger camps around here too.

Here began one of the most fun sections of mountain-biking of the trip.

The track suddenly became cross-country-esque, twisting, climbing and dipping through a series of small hills. I had a ball trying to chase down a LandCruiser that had earlier passed us – almost caught it too.

We turned east, missing the town of Chuluut, and found the faint track through a small basin before struggling up the steep exit onto a plateau between rivers. With storm clouds gathering to the north, it seemed a good time to lunch before we got soaked.

Making a concerted effort to outrun the storm, unsure where we thought we would hide, good progress was being made down into and out of the next valley. That is, until a passing Prius (what else?) passenger waved us down and promptly rushed around offering us hot milk tea and cheesy yak treats. Yum!

Unfortunately the couple were camera shy, but here’s the milk tea.

Not so camera shy.

The rain did catch us eventually, but having donned rain gear it amounted to nothing.

More cyclists! We had a bemusing conversation with a German cycle tourist on a very heavily loaded and skinny-tyred touring bike, travelling with his teenaged daughter (didn’t hear a peep from her, she didn’t look in the least bit amused). I struggled to comprehend how they were doing this route at about twenty kilometres per day and how they could carry enough food to make that possible. We were surprised to learn there was a store, recently opened in an old school, just ahead.

We found a few gers around the old school building, and were promptly invited into one of them. The son and daughter of the women whose home this was, and their children, were visiting from Australia and Austria for the summer so there were some interesting chats and accents for being in northern Mongolia. Alongside the normal tasty food and tea offered, Swiss chocolate was a new one!

Not really needing anything, we got a few things from the store – as such things are welcome sights in the middle of nowhere when travelling such distances and are to be supported. Out of one valley and into the next, it was the biggest climb of the day – but a piddling one really.

Still, worth stopping at the the ovoo.

A steeper, faster descent than earlier in the day.

Back to the flat lands heading for a larger river than we’d seen for a while.

Soon after getting near it, we turned off the road to find somewhere to camp by the river. Unexpectedly, it was somewhat in flood – but we found a campsite where we got dealt to by silent mosquitoes. Dinner became rushed as another storm approached. Heavy rain drops and the crack of thunder sent us scurrying to eat in our tents. Soon we were surrounded by cracking thunder and lightning – easily the closest I’ve been to such an explosive display for a long time, if ever. It eventually passed and we were all unscathed – an exciting end to another grand day.

Departing another great riverside campsite under clear skies it was back to the horrid corrugations for the thirty kilometres to Jargalant (another one, I’ve taken to calling it Jargalant II for obvious reasons). The surface was a bit softer and a little climb gave a good vantage point of the wide valleys we were biking through.

Approaching town, we crossed a dozen or so braids of the river. The deepest about waist height – my bottom bracket was not the same after that, it took three months before someone could fix the inconsequential, but mildly annoying, click.

Jargalant II looked very sleepy, but we found a store with very helpful staff. When we asked after a cafe, or similar, someone led us in a car through quite a few streets to one that was happy to feed us – even though they weren’t really open. This after a young passenger in a car had thoroughly quizzed us about our trip – her English language skills were impeccable. She then found us at the cafe later to gift us a sushi roll that her mother had just made :).

Before leaving town, now supplied for three days, both Rachel and Ian took their lives and health into their hands daring to use another of the common long-drops behind a gas station. Most of them looked as though the floor above the pit could collapse at any moment – and this was a fine example of that. Regrouped, with no-one having fallen in what would surely have been a pit of despair (and more besides), it was time to head for the last big pass of the route – about 2600 m.

We found a series of climbs up to false summits – as typical, they steepened markedly at each crest, before we lost elevation again.

Unexpectedly, we spotted a small enclosure of deer stones (as if they would escape) – approximately five thousand years old! Well, we were expecting to see some – but at the top of the pass; these seemed to be bonus ones.

Still climbing through some beautiful hills as the weather closed in.

At the summit we took quite some time to find the deer stones that were highlighted in the route description – but couldn’t find them. We decided that we’d seen them earlier and they had been moved in the time since the route was compiled. This long delay meant that the weather caught up with us as we dropped quickly from the pass trying to find a campsite and water.

Found one, although it proved to be close to a popular spot for crossing the river.

This was one of the few times we had to cook and eat in the rain; also memorable for possibly the worst meat we ate on the trip – now remembered as the dog-roll meal, we all lived to tell the tale with varying degrees of fondness!

One of our bigger days in Mongolia, now that I look back on it:

Bit of help (?) as we went about our morning routine.

Gentle climbing to start, as the scenery continued to remind of the Scottish Highlands.

Heading to our highest elevation of the trip was unexpectedly easy going.

The general flatness was even more so at the top.

Not a dramatic pass.

Rare group photo; guess 2727 m was worth marking.

A long gradual descent, over forty kilometres at less than a percent, was noteworthy for all the animals we saw on some lush grazing land.

So many horses. Not fast enough to get photos of the marmots that we started to see – they ran straight for their burrows on our approach.

A spot of volleyball practice outside a ger camp.

Lunch as the grass started to get a bit more sparse.

And rocks appeared.

Joining another valley, we turned south-east and climbed a little,

crossed a river,

and followed the powerlines to the crest.

By now we were starting to get the idea that we approaching the corrugated section that our German acquaintance had despaired over when we met him in Khangai.

At least we were going downhill, and slightly more steeply than earlier in the day.

Thirty kilometres of bumping all over the place lay ahead of us. There were many vehicle tracks to choose from, which provided a challenge in trying to find the smoothest one. Which one that was was constantly changing.

Not needing to resupply at the town of Zag, and tiring of the route, we detoured slightly up-valley to find a good campsite.

We found a great one near the river, arriving with our senses of humour just intact after the corrugations.

More animals and herding to watch.

An excellent spot for the night.

That morning was my turn for the slight gut upset – completing the set for us all having minor illnesses in Mongolia. None of them lasted long though, we got off lightly for a month travelling where we had to treat all our water and were eating all sorts of food different to what our bodies are used to.

Didn’t stop me eating breakfast, the same as what we had for dinner the previous night – but an even larger portion. Food = fuel.

Riding out of town was a fair bit of guess work of how to best negotiate various streams and bogs across the wide valley. Eventually we found a solid path, although I was soon off it trying to draw a vocal but harmless pack of dogs away from the others.

Spent a lot of the morning looking at this range with its intriguing outcrops.

Walking to begin.

Twas a draining day as we rode into a strong wind throughout, on the rockiest and slowest surface we’d yet had. It was becoming apparent why the first bikepacker we’d seen all trip had spent so long complaining about the route – and we weren’t even at the corrugated section that he saved most of his scorn for. Seemed mostly to be a case of someone who had been by themselves too long and just wanted to talk and talk, the surface setting him off.

The most amusing part of the strong headwind was the effect it had on the thousands of jumping insects (grasshoppers/crickets?). Sunning themselves on the track, they would jump away from us as we approached (itself a scene due to the numbers); unfortunately for them, and us, the wind was so strong they would immediately be blown into us and our bikes. Cue a few hours of being constantly thwacked by splattering insects; right in the face was the worst, keeping one’s mouth closed was heavily encouraged.

Just as I was really needing one, toilets appeared out of nowhere – along with a small collection of buildings and a basketball court. Rachel and Ian chatted to a farmer and his son. It sounded like some of the buildings are community buildings, including where the grazing land is managed, divvied up from.

The steepest climb of the day, very short – mercifully as I wasn’t exactly full of energy.

Over the rise, we did managed to find a lunch spot out of the wind. Nice to catch a breath, and watch the birds have fun in the wind.

The gradual climb continued to 2500 m, which would be our highest campsite of the trip – and my coldest, still sleeping on the ground. We enjoyed the evening watching the light change on the hills, as well as having visits from local dogs and later a herdsman on his horse – we shared tea and biscuits, but little conversation was possible. A tough day with a dodgy stomach and into the wind throughout, but we all got through ok – but still having a much higher opinion of Rachel and Ian’s route than the one we were on.