by Cal Aswad, of Reed College, and Rebekah Holt, of Weber State
When our backpacking trip began, we were informed that it was going to rain constantly five out of the six days. It’s a testament to our tenacity that we were determined to go anyway.
When our furgons arrived at the start of the trip and we met the rangers who would be guiding us, Bayarhuu and Turbold, clouds hung dark and heavy in the sky. And as we quickly found out, previous rain had made the terrain obnoxious. Lush grasslands turned to muddy marshes, so wet your boot could sink all the way in and flood. And if the grasslands didn’t flood our boots, the multiple river crossings did.
Rangers Turbold and Bayarhuu with Mikayla, Badmaa, and Alyssa.
Fortunately, the rain cleared up as we moved up the mountain. We soon found ourselves in a burned-out forest, a great green expanse of lichens, mosses, and low-growing forbs occasionally broken by a skeletal dead larch. We made camp as best we could on the side of a hill, everyone rushing to get the flattest ground they could. Fortunately, the spongy lichens made things comfortable, despite on uneven terrain.
With camp set and most of the day remaining, we decided to explore. Making our way uphill, Chris and Rebecca talked about the history of the forest, and how the forest fire (which we learned from the rangers occurred back in 2000) changed every aspect of this ecosystem. Over a dry streambed we found some wild rhubarb and munched on that as we reached a grassy hill far too steep to host any trees, alive or dead. Thankfully, as there wasn’t a camera grid location at the top of the hill, there was nothing stopping us from resting halfway up and snacking rather than pushing ourselves and receiving a marginally better view. But, this view was pretty all right too:
The view from our snack point.
The second day presented us with our greatest challenge: six km across a steep mountain to a pass, much of it over barren talus. The going was slow and strenuous for people and horses alike. At one point, the packs fell off a packhorse as it stumbled up the treacherous slopes.
Despite the challenge, everyone (including the horses) made it safely over to a flatter area, called Red Rock Pass, where we stopped for a well-earned leisurely lunch. Raptors came to greet us: monk vultures, common ravens, and most excitingly, a lammergeier.
Red Rock Pass with some stragglers in the background.
Around three, we made the final ascent towards our campsite. The ground was more gently sloped, and barren talus gave way to spongy lichens and then marshy grasses and sedges. We set up camp by a lake, and many of us took the opportunity to wash our hair.
The rangers kindly went back down the mountain to retrieve wood for our campfires, as we were above the treeline. With camp set, we decided to explore the area. Some intrepid students reached the top of a hill to the north of our camp and found an exquisite Ovoo, a form of border marker that has religious significance to both Buddhists and Shamans and are often found on the tops of mountains.
That evening we really bonded with the rangers. They taught us how to make bortstai buuda, which is pretty much rice soup, only rice soup a good ten times better than anything you can get out of a can. Turbold showed us his fantastic skills as a chef and amateur therapist (don’t ask). We shared food and laughter well into the evening, past the sunset.
Our campsite by the lake.
The third day was our designated Grinnell journal day, so we moved slowly. The morning began at dawn, as we all got up to observe the sunrise. Watching the sun break over the mountains in the freezing marsh was an incredible sight. Chris, Alyssa, Grace, and Turbold went birding, but only saw one bird and heard another (we still can’t definitively identify it). The rest of us went back to our tents and napped until breakfast.
The rest of the morning consisted of a hike to the highest point of our mountain. We meandered around the marsh, observing adorable red mushrooms and periwinkle gentians with varying petal numbers. Turbold showed us how to use our binoculars in place of a hand lens for observing floral characteristics. We also found molted vulture feathers, and closer to noon another monk vulture and lammergeier flew overhead.
At the peak, we took group photos and had a lunch of salami, horse jerky, dried fruit, carrots, and trail mix (excluding the offensively sweet white balls, peanuts rolled in sugar and universally reviled by the group). Badmaa showed us gray sandy soil seeping out of the mountain bedrock.
We finally broke camp at three and made our way to the Ovoo some of us saw the day before. Past the Ovoo, the land became broken by exposed talus again. Chris had to double back for a GPS, he jogged all the way back up the rocky hill and made it back in time to advise us on our reading, “The Invitation” by Barry Lopez, after we set up camp on either side of a stream. After our reading, we talked about how we can better understand natural situations and whether or not we, as Americans, can ever truly be connected to a landscape in a similar form to the many indigenous groups of the world.
Our campsite by the stream.
That night, the sky was clear, so some of us got up to stargaze. The view of the milky way and all of the constellations was incredible—infinitely better than anything we’ve seen in the US.
The fourth day began with a reading of “Strawberry Gifts” by Robin Wall Kimmerer (not part of the curriculum, but Braiding Sweetgrass had come up enough in our conversations that it felt appropriate). Afterward, Chris gave a Thanksgiving Address. We then set out alone to reflect on things we would add to our own addresses.
Afterward, Bayarhuu and Turbold took us to see a plant known as a bansenberuu, known in English as the snow lotus. Snow lotus is considered the most important plant on the mountain. It only blooms once every decade. It has medicinal properties, and even drinking the water it holds (up to 2 liters!) has benefits. Removing the snow lotus requires a specific ceremony in order to not offend the sky spirit. The actual process must be hidden under a tent or, if a tent is lacking, a del. Unfortunately, snow lotus has become endangered because of its medicinal value, especially in the post-communist era.
Hiking to the next campsite was accomplished in only an hour, because we decided we’d rather camp by the river and explore the unique meadow it supported. The seemingly serene rows of grasses, sedges, and horsetail hid shockingly deep fissures, flooded with running water. With water shoes and adventure straps on, we meandered for a little over an hour. Rebecca conducted a study of the local butterflies. Alyssa found a massive antler in the river, later identified by Bayarhuu as an elk’s. We traced a small trail through the grass from a winter hay pile to a small hole—apparently made by a ground squirrel.
A view from our day hike.
That night at dinner, we introduced the rangers to sriracha sauce. Bayarhuu loves it. After dinner, Chris led us in a sensory integration exercise. First, we focused on sound, then feeling, then scent, and then finally our peripheral vision. It was fascinating to realize how much information we can take in in a single moment.
That night we fell asleep to the sound of Chris’ maniacal laughter. It didn’t take long to figure out what he found so amusing. The next morning, Badmaa gave an insightful demonstration about animal-to-butthole-size ratio.
We set off around 10 and hiked for an hour before dropping our packs. We then traversed a few peaks, generally following a trail, until we reached one of the taller ones in the area. From there, we saw a saker falcon and watched a group of ibex on a nearby peak. Byarhuu identified one of the ibexes as an old male, and two as juveniles. Eventually, we wandered back down to our packs, ate lunch, and started back up the gently sloping pass. At the top, we were met with an incredible view by another Ovoo.
Bayarhuu marching through a field of larch and birch.
We descended back into dense larch forest. Mountain cranberry carpeted the forest floor. Bayarhuu brought us some of last year’s ripe cranberries (this year’s batch won’t be ready until September). The trail was also broken by many massive bear digs. Once we reached the riverbed, we wandered until we found running water to camp by.
That night, we had an appreciation activity. We sat in a circle and everyone talked about what they’d noticed and appreciated about each other over the course of the program. We talked for two hours, but it only felt like 20 minutes.
For our final day, we decided to sleep in, so we didn’t break camp until around 9:00. The hike to our pickup spot was easy, over a riverside trail. The only issue we ran into was a massive beehive spotted by the rangers and Badmaa we had to hike around. Our pickup spot was another winter camp. We arrived before lunch, so we ate and read Aldo Leopold’s essays “Land Ethic” and “Round River.” The weather finally decided to turn against us, and we were briefly hailed on. A city council member arrived on his motorbike, and Alyssa sang her “Sain baina uu?” song to him. Then, Turbold taught Chris Mongolian wrestling. The furgon arrived to get us at 2:00, and much to our surprise Tumursukh was the driver. He and the rangers skillfully packed all of our gear into the furgon, and before we knew it we were on our way back to Ulaan Uul.
A good snack during a good trip.
All in all, we had a fantastic backpacking trip. We saw incredible sights, collected data for most of the projects, and had fun together. There’s only one downside: the peanut butter is still missing…