Zuunkharaa to Ugtaalsaidam

It started off as a slightly overcast day heading towards Bayangol. It was a relief after 2 days in full sun. We had a quick stop in Bayangol which included Calvin's best horshor yet and a strange conversation with potentially drunk man. Our goal was to find the road leading to Sumber approximately 5km down the main highway. It was 5km of joy as the road to Bayangol had been particularly rutted and rocky. We consulted some locals and turned off on to a very sandy track - the road to Sumber. Another 5km down the track we joined on to what was actaully the sealed road to Sumber, and with the wind at our backs we flew towards our destination.

As we approached Sumber we both commented on how lucky we were that today was cool, and that for once we weren't fighting the wind. However, a couple of kilometers out of Sumber, heading towards the towns dump - we always seem to pass these as we leave towns - we realised that the mistiness we had seen in the distant hills was not rain or humidity, but in fact dust from the increasing winds. And so, with a mighty strong tailwind, and accompanying sand stinging our legs, we made good speed down the tracks.

However, we didn't know it then, the worst was yet to come. We made a 90 degree left hand turn and realised we were staring at a wall of dust 50m ahead running perpendicular to us. So Kate started biking towards it, while Calvin prepared himself with a face covering. From the moment you enter the storm you have about a 2m line of sight. We couldn't look around anyway as even with sunglasses on we still had grit accumulating in our eyes making us blink at least 3 times per second. About 20m in and Kate realised she had no idea if Calvin had entered as well, or if he had made the same track choice! So she stopped dead and started calling "Calvin! Calvin! CALVIN!". It was like Dorothy in the twister in The Wizard of Oz. Fortunately, he showed up and on we pedaled until we made it out the other side after a solid 10 minutes of being pummeled. This was followed by Calvin in hysterics at Kate's face totally and utterly blacked out by dust. On we rode, with the wind still blowing us around, until 10km down the road we hit paved road again.

Looks to be dusty ahead

The aftermath:

We traveled the 12km to Jargalant in record time with the wind hurtling us along. We had both agreed that if this town had a hotel then we would utilise it solely to save our tent from the explosion of dust in the air, on our clothes and on our bodies. Luckily, while making enquiries outside the local mini mart, a young man phoned his brother who owned a hotel. It was a room, there were two beds, a kettle, and he graciously left us a tub, a bucket, soap, a ragged towel and about 20L of water before locking the place up and heading out for the evening.

We were thrilled to have the privacy as we boiled water and stripped down to wash the dust from every imaginable crevice - our eyes, our ears, our noses, our belly buttons and our hair.

Later that night he returned and came to have a chat. Turns out he is a Mongolian wrestler, we think he represents the region we were riding through, or else he has at least won his fights here. He showed us photos of him dressed in his official costume, photos of his children and his horse. He showed us how big his biceps were, quite a few times. And then he invited us through to his house where he showed us large deer horns he had recently acquired from a stag - he was adamant no deer was harmed in this process. In addition to this he offered us a traditional Mongolian treat made from rancid cheese. One flavour was delicious, one okay, and the other so hard we were both afraid we would break our teeth. Kate secretly hid the latter in the leg of her tights so he wouldn't be offended. He then offered to cook for us, but seeing as it was late and we had eaten hours ago we hit the hay instead.

We awoke to a totally peaceful day lacking any signs of a sandstorm. After a quick game of cards that we didn't understand with our host, and him taking Kate's bike on a two lap ride up the hill and around town, we followed him in his truck as he led us across town to the track that would lead us to Ugtaalsaidam.

Our Wrestler come Hotelier come cyclist

This was a wonderful ride over undulating hills with spectacularly long valleys. We took the day slowly, enjoying being able to see the scenery that day, and after one large push up a hill we descended in to Ugtaalsaidam.

Ugtaalsaidam is the only place we have ever come across fierce dogs with frightful sneers, and luckily a man threw rocks at them for us to keep them at bay.

From Ugtaalsaidam we rode 3km out of town, flogged our empty water bottles off to local students doing a clean up of the highway, and set up camp on a hill lined with spectacular rocky formations.

Bluebird clam day in the back blocks of Mongolia to ourselves.