After breakfast overlooking the Little Gobi, a longer drive to get us most of the way back to Ulaan Baatar awaited. I may have dozed for much of it. Off the highway, a bumpy dirt track took us towards the gates of Hustai National Park. Buying an entry ticket was more difficult than any other purchase of our month in Mongolia – the only time we had to use US dollars, thankfully Ian and Rachel had been carrying some around for weeks.
Last night in the tents in Mongolia – near the playground and outside the main tourist village for the park.
Once someone opened it for us, we spent time in the visitor centre learning about the local area and Przewalki’s horse – what we’d come to see. An extra pair of chromosomes the main, of a number, difference between them and domesticated horses. Long thought the only wild horse (c.f. brumbies and mustangs), they died out in the wild but have been reintroduced to a few habitats – Hustai being one.

As dusk approached, when the horses would start to come down from the hills to drink, we drove into the park to an area set up for viewing.
Spot the horses was quite difficult from such distance.
Eventually we could pick some out on the skyline.
They didn’t seem that thirsty, we watched them from afar for ages.
There were a couple of scopes set-up to get a better view through. Taking photos through it was hit and miss.

While we waited a large group of park rangers arrived on dirt bikes and a couple of horses. Apparently there was a domestic horse in the herd, and they wanted it out. A couple of the rangers took off up the steep hill.
Slowly the horses made their way down the slopes.

This guy must have been tasked with final capture of the imposter – a loop of rope was on the end of the pole.
The two bikes appeared on the ridge and descended to corral the horses. Suddenly, all hell broke loose and there were noisy dirt bikes going everywhere chasing the horses up the valley and then wheeling them around back down the other side of the valley.

Eventually the domestic horse was separated and captured.
Excitement and horse viewing over, it was back to camp for our last Mongolian camp meal – undoubtedly noodles, some veges and questionable meat – and what would have been a peaceful night, but for some late arrivals setting up camp just up the hill and having a karoake party into the wee hours.
This seemed to be a gathering spot for European campervans; we’d not seen a single one on our ride, yet the overlanders chose to meet here. Weird.
Trees and rocks, with a bonus river.
Down to the roadhouse, with attached campground, the only facilities for many miles.
Said roadhouse, without all the vehicles belching diesel. Saw a bunch of big motorsport team trucks rolling through, a change from the preponderance of mining and cattle road trains. Found later the Supercar roadshow was moving from Perth to Darwin.

This may be recognised from some films, but not by me.

The creek approaching the cliff.
Spot the tour group.
Further up the gorge, past where boats can reach – there are a lot of rocks around these parts.
On the return, the longer walk (not long) between boats and impassable rocks.
First crocodile in the wild for the trip.
But first, different rocks! Curious conglomerations.



Better than your average water tower.
Spot the fictional characters – Homer, E.T., Robocop…













Kohaihai itself not a bad spot, ignoring the insect bites.
Tom leaving the first beaches and Kohaihai Bluff.
Certainly was looking like a great late-autumn day.
Into the nikau groves.
Rachel emerging from forest on to one of the many swing bridges.
This is unusual – quite the convoluted ramp structure to get on to the true left side of the bridge.
Impressive.
The new bridge is much higher above the river. A deceptive incline on the true right side, quite unusual for a swing bridge in the NZ backcountry.
The shelter has been closed in, albeit in a rather temporary-looking fashion.
At least that door-of-sorts will keep some weather out.
We found some rocks and climbed them.
Nice to have this bike for the trail riding.
Crossing the Heaphy again. Freewheeling down that bridge, it’s alarming just how much speed one picks up. Hitting an upright definitely to be avoided at that pace.


And look at the real estate listings; alas, this has been sold.