WE ARRIVED IN MONGOLIA A FEW DAYS EARLY to give us time to scope the place out before our Earthwatch gig. Ulaanbaatar doesn’t have much to recommend it, (unless you’ve been in the field for two weeks, as we later learned) just another of those cities that haven’t been able to keep up with its exponential growth as people relocate from the countryside seeking jobs. The older buildings reflect UB’s soviet past while the choking, smoking coal-fired power plants bode ill for the future.
Mr. Mongolia, Chingis Khan
We located a tour company willing to take us away from the city for a few days, passing on the Gobi Desert tour for a bird-intensive trip to Gun Galuut Nature Reserve instead. We’ve seen many of the world’s great deserts — Sahara, Namib, Sonoran and Acoma — and can’t imaging the Gobi would be much different. They supplied all of the camping supplies, food, driver, vehicle and guide. Baagii was as cute as a bunny, spoke excellent English and became an enthusiastic birder.
Baagii, a good companion
Last night was even colder than the first night — 41°F in the tent and the grass was covered with frost. We each have two light-weight sleeping bags and thin foam pads but it isn’t nearly enough. It has been a while since we last slept on the ground in tents and my old bones are groaning.
Just when we thought our camping days were over
We set this up as a birding trip and while Baagii doesn’t know a crane from a redstart she is a willing learner — Connie’s enthusiasm for birding has that effect on people. Not having a bird book for Asia makes things even more difficult and we have to rely on photos Connie previously downloaded from the Internet. Luckily we have been able to recharge the computer and camera batteries at the tourist rest camp. So far Connie has added more than a dozen new birds including two to Mongolia’s six cranes, species to be determined once we have Internet access again.
White-naped cranes
Getting decent photos of the cranes was a bit tricky. They prefer an area that looks like a grassy meadow but in reality is a soggy marsh. We tried several seemingly dry approaches only to be stymied by yet more water until finally we took off our shoes and socks, rolled up our pants and splashed onward, Baagii laughing at our side, sometimes sinking knee-deep in mud. It brought back rice paddy memories of my army days.
Our final night wasn’t as cold until the wind switched around dawn and the temperature plummeted. We ate a cold breakfast wearing hats and gloves and gore-tex to ward off the cold wind and began the 120 km drive back to Ulaanbaatar.
