Far East

I am teetering on my seat, ready for the next bounce, holding on as our small Russian van is catapulting forwards through the vast emptiness of the Eurasian steppe.  It is mind boggling that this morning we were in a sleek modern city full of people and now we are in this extreme emptiness. Mongolia is a large nation with a modest population of only three million, and out of that half live in Ulaanbaatar, the capital.  Here, in the western corner of the country, all we spot are Kazak nomads dotted through the landscape. Their white Gers stark against the steppe. We are invited inside and drink salty milk tea and fried Kazak bread as our local guide Mogi explains that she can’t communicate with people in this region of Mongolia as they only speak Kazak. 

After a couple of days traveling by van, a journey that much resembles being inside a tumble dryer, we are thankful to get to the entrance of Tavan Bogd National park, the gateway to the Altai Mountains. We are here to climb Mongolia’s highest peak, Mt Khuiten, and it is truly starting to feel like an expedition when our big duffle bags full of climbing gear are loaded on to the camels for the trek into basecamp. Basecamp sits in a lush green valley dotted with wildflowers and a babbling brook that runs through camp. Behind the glaciated peaks of the five holy mountains of Altai dominate the view, Mt Khuiten being the tallest of the five at 14,350 feet.

We acclimatize by hiking to the Russian border, there is nothing here, only a pole tells us we have reach the border. We hunker down against the wind and by the time we wave Russia goodbye snow flurries have started to fall. The wind intensifies and by the time we go to bed a thick layer of snow is covering our tents, leaving our minds full of doubt for the trip up to Advanced Basecamp the following morning. We needn’t have worried however, we are woken to glorious sunshine and everything covered in a beautiful layer of white. Beautiful to look at, less beautiful to plow our way through as we start up the glacier, sinking to our hips with each and every step. It is hard work and our packs are full to the brim weighing us down making us sink deeper into the fresh snow. It is excruciating work and to make matters worse the sun is beating down on our heads reflecting in the snow burning our skin and making us sweat buckets as we continue up at a snail’s pace.

We arrive at an empty Advanced Basecamp, just a white flat spot on the glacier. After stomping out spots for our tents we peer up at our objective. From here it looks steep, and icy. The excitement of the climb has gotten under our skin as we ready our gear and load up on rice for our Alpine start. Mogi wakes us with coffee and dry bread which I try to down while still in my sleeping bag, unwilling to leave the warm sanctuary of down for the cold dark outside. Eventually I must abandon my haven and rope up, tying into Tammy and Liana and then starting up. Up, up, up.

In the dark I barley recognize the kicking of steps or my ice ax sinking in the snow, I just move forwards still half asleep, putting one foot in front of the other. But as the sun begins to rise, I start to take notice of the peaks around, the crunching of my crampons in the icy snow, and the frozen snot in my nose. As the route steepens and we front point up the steeper sections my heart starts to sing. This is my happy place. Just as the pink and purple sunrise turns to golden morning light, we crest the summit ridge and walk the last few meters to the summit. It is glorious! Mountains in every direction, to the north Russia, to the west Kazakhstan, to the south China, and to the east Mongolia. We are the first team of the season to reach the summit and we bask in the beauty, savoring the crisp mountain air and expansive views of this truly remote mountain vista in the far east.