In search for better terrain

Day 14

Distance traveled: 44.6 km

Day 15

Distance traveled: 34.8 km

Position: N45 ° 13 E101° 11

 

Spring has arrived in the Gobi. Grass clumps and bushes spot the terrain and small flowers have started to bloom. To my right, the snow that covers the mountain tops slowly melts away. This is a magical and a beautiful country! Never in my windless dreams would I imagine kiting along with camels to one side and a heard of horses to the other.

The winds are still gusty and unpredictable. Both Eric and I have had our fair share of daily crashes (and scrapes and bruises!), but that has become the norm. The terrain is always changing, one minute we are cruising across a flat expanse, the next minute we are stuck in a salt march and are force to pull our buggies out.

Never knowing what's ahead has kept the trip challenging and interesting, but has made navigation hard. With us we have a couple set of maps, a compass and a GPS to help us find our way. But the challenge is finding good terrain. When we are lucky we can follow a road, which is little more than a dirt track. Other times we make our own way across the open country, trying to avoid salt marches, sand dunes and thorn bushes that grow so thick it's almost impossible to haul our buggies through.

Yesterday after spending the morning trying to find our way out of salt marches, we found good terrain and kited into the small town of Jinst. This is the first real town we've visited - with electricity, a store and a school. It didn't take people long to notice us, and soon we were surrounded as kids and teachers poured out of the nearby school. One young lady who worked as a teacher spoke English. Immediately we were invited into her home for juice and cookies. The kids followed us, and practiced the English they knew telling us their names and age. We showed them pictures of home. The picture that intrigued them the most was one of narwhals. The young teacher explained to us that for most of the kids, we were the first foreigners they had met. It wasn't till two hours later that we waved goodbye to our host, leaving her a children's book on the Canadian Arctic for her and her students. It was the least we could do. Everywhere we have been, people have gone out of their way to invite us into their homes. The kids followed us out of town, watching us unroll our kites. We said "bayartai" which is Mongolian for good bye and kited away.

Today the terrain was ever changing and the winds were light. We kited when we could, hauling when the winds or terrain would force us to. As the stars came up, we hauled into the night listening to the Rolling Stones on our little speakers.

Sarah