Day 7
Position: N 45° . 52 E 097° .52
Distance Travelled: 22.8 km
Sitting around a modest wooden table holding large saucer cups filled with warm salty milk tea, three Canadian travellers stare ignorantly at the menu. Which item has meat I ask, knowing full well that they likely all do. Our gracious host leafs through our Mongolian phrase book and points to hot food. I figure that's as close as we will get to actually ordering so we smile and wait to be served.
We have pulled camp and hauled the buggies to a nearby town to replenish our water stores and enjoy a traditional Mongolian meal. After entertaining the town with buggy rides and photo shoots, Eric, Sarah and I get down to business. This is the point in our trip where I decide if I want to continue. It is something that really has not been talked about since the accident 6 days ago. I begin the conversation, asking the team how they feel about the expedition thus far. Both Sarah and Eric agree that the trip has been a little unexpected as far as reading wind and terrain go and that the pace hopefully will pick up soon. It is quite common to struggle in the first week to 10 days of an expedition as routines and schedules slowly work into efficient travel. They are confident that things will turn around soon.
I have had a lot of time over the last 5-6 days to think about why I am here, and if I should continue. I have spoken candidly with my team mates and tried to be honest with myself. Knowing my friends and having a very reassuring voice from home has given me a stronger confidence in my own abilities. I tell Sarah and Eric I would like to see the trip through and finish with them.
We wave good bye to our hosts and pull out onto the desert plain in the mid day sun, water bags and belly's full. Our destination is through a mountain pass and hopefully to sustained flat terrain. The winds are non cooperative and or tack is too high; we are forced to pull the buggies once more. The foot hill pass is other worldly, beautiful in the setting sunlight. With the sun low, we try once more for distance with kites before making camp. Twice, large shipping trucks with full loads turn swiftly into our path and chase us down, honking and shouting, to grab our attention (as if the honking was necessary). With darkness upon us and a real fear of becoming road kill we make camp, hopefully hidden in the moonscape safe from curious truck drivers.
Curtis
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