Dust Bowl

Day 23: Terelj National Park (MNG) – Kharkhorin (MNG). “Years ago, this was great pasture land. In June, July August everything green – many people bring cattle to graze. But no more. Last five years bring no rain. Weather change. All desert now.”, Jack, our Mongolian guide recalled with a hint of sadness in his voice

Leaving the mountainous escarpment of Terelj we retraced our route of the previous day, passing through Ulaanbaator and out of the city again in a South-Westerly direction en-route to Chingiss Khaan's original 13th century capital of Kharkhorin. For the first 100km west of UB, the road surface was surprisingly good allowing us to make good progress on to the high pasture lands that Jack described to us now. “An all too familiar story”, I said to Karen, shaking my head. What saddened me most though about this particular story of climate change was the size of the impact on under resourced countries like Mongolia, despite their relatively small contribution to the initial problem.

After a few hours driving, the tarmac ended and the road again turned into a dirt track that by spine remembered only too well from the day before. However, on this occasion the 'dirt track' was so badly potholed that most drivers preferred to make their own 'road' across the desert. So flat was the environment land you could see for miles in every direction; across the entire landscape were tens of dust balls – each one indicating the presence of a vehicle with its own independent trajectory across the desert.

Despite the uncomfortable off-road journey, our lack of sleep from the night before coupled with the warmth of the winter sunshine amplified through the glass of Jack's car soon had Karen and I dozing. Dozing that is until we were awakened by the honking of horns and the sound of stones and sand hitting the side of the car. Just as there were no marked lanes on this 10 mile wide desert 'highway' there also appeared to be no rules and Jack had just had a near miss with a service bus coming from the other direction, heading towards Ulaanbaator. Jack looked in the rear view mirror to see Karen and my worried faces. He chuckled to himself. This was just an entertaining game to him! “This is just like 'Road Chicken'”, remarked Karen recalling our experiences of driving on Poland just a few weeks prior. “Yes”, I responded, “But for advanced players!”

As the sun started to set behind the mountains, Jack gestured to the West. “Big storm is coming”. He was right, the wind had picked up. Tumbleweed hurtled across the desert sands and huge dust storms were limiting our visibility, further impeding our progress. But eventually, late in to the night, we reached the little ger that was to be our shelter for the night and Karen and I collapsed into bed, thoroughly exhausted by the days travelling.