The Orkhon Valley is a gem of the Mongolian high steppe, the beautiful green mountains, thick pine forests and racing rivers making a scene similar to the mountains of the US or Scandinavia.  We had a rainy night in our comfy warm ger near the start of the valley and were hoping for blue skies in the morning as we had some ‘nature walking’ planned for the day.  And sure enough, as we packed up our trusty Land Cruiser the sun came out.

The occasionally cheerful Dashca drove us further up the valley along a track that was seriously muddy, flooded and slippery, mixed in with very rocky sections when we had to pass over one of the many exposed lava flows.  But the drive was stunning, hairy yaks all about, the sun bursting with energy and the mountains sparkling with the wet green grass. 

After 25 wonderful kilometres we came essentially to the end of the valley and pulled up in front of a ger with a family of four.  We were invited in and sat down in their humble home, offered a custard thing (not good) and were about to be offered mare’s milk tea again when we politely said we needed some fresh air. 

Dashca organised a member from this family to be our guide as we walked further up the valley.  This old fellow, years of living out in this harsh world etched on his face, caught a horse which was roaming free, saddled him, jumped on and waved his hand.  Apparently our guide was ready to go.

We followed guide and horse up the valley along a wide trail used by horses as they moved between the upper and lower pastures.  Walking amongst the pine trees, the river roaring below us, the track muddy but the hearts light, it was just perfect.  After two wonderful hours we popped out in this open high meadow and gazed down into the valley below, small lakes and connecting rivers making their way past us.  With the wild flowers below us and the soaring eagles above it was absolute heaven.

We reluctantly returned to our truck, cooked up a lunch and bade our new family friends adieu before driving back down the valley a fair ways. 

Dashca’s mission was to find us a place to camp on the beautiful Orkhon River and he scored a perfect 10 as we set up on a ridge overlooking the noisy currents below.  This was a great day, the little driving we did was through gorgeous country, a beautiful walk and a great camping spot under perfect blue skies.  You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

The next morning was clear but chilly as we packed up and headed out of the valley, the track significantly drier than when we came in two days before.  We then turned north-westward along more rough dirt tracks, rising up and over a few high rolling mountains. 

This drive was one of our favourites in Mongolia, green carpeted mountains, herds of everything in all directions, the occasional ger sitting forlornly in the distance.  All morning only two cars came to us from the other direction, and this is a major north-south road in central Mongolia.  That’s the way it is here.

Eventually Dashca found a track off to the left and had to ford a very sketchy deep river, made more exciting after we watched a couple of young calves get washed down the stream when a herd of cattle crossed.  Dashca clearly wasn’t too happy about the risk here and the stress was obvious – he had a cigarette before we crossed and after we made it.

We arrived at Tsenkher Hot Springs and our Tourist Camp for the night and after settling into our two well-appointed gers had lunch and a well-deserved soak in the hot springs, appropriately timed to ease our sore bodies after the bumpy rally-car drive we had that morning.  After a couple of hours of downtime, also well deserved, we enjoyed our first cold beers in four days and dinner in the restaurant.  Julie loves these Tourist Camps, not only does she not have to sleep in a tiny tent with me but she doesn’t even have to cook. 

The next morning we had confirmed by phone with Soko, our ground operator, what we had already figured out – the day before we were supposed to go to two historic sites and instead drove right past them.  It wasn’t clear exactly how this happened but obviously the lack of communication between our driver, Soko and us played a big factor.  What can you do, that’s Mongolia for ya.

Within 40 minutes of more beautiful green rolling hills, dodging herds of yaks and killer boggy holes, we arrived at the thriving community of Tsetserleg.  Tsetserleg has a population of about 21,000, a mega city by Mongolian standards, and is the regional capital of this province.  We were instantly in shell-shock over the paved roads, stop lights, people everywhere and crazy traffic.  We climbed up a set of long steps to a Buddhist temple overlooking the town and then visited an excellent little museum in a building from the 17^th century that housed artifacts from the region’s history.

Julie reported  our larder was running low so we stopped at a super market and did our last major re-supply, knowing we now have only about a week to go before returning to Ulaanbaatar.  I then stupidly suggested maybe we could have lunch in a restaurant as a special treat and we spent the next hour and a half waiting for two pizzas to arrive.  In the end only one pizza came, we woofed it down and paid before having to spend the night there.

Our target for the day was Great White Lake, a major domestic tourist attraction for stressed out Mongolians in need of some downtime.  The road there was as beautiful as always through rolling green hills speckled with yaks, sheep and goats, just wonderful.  The road remained paved for quite a while, excluding the construction sections of course.

One of the features of the Great White Lake area is Khorgo Mountain, an extinct volcano with a deep caldera in the middle.  We parked at it’s base and with a steady stream of locals walked up the steep rocky track over the lava bed which blanketed the volcano’s slope.  There was a bit of huffing and puffing but the effort was worth it. As we stood on the volcano’s rim and gazed down we could imagine it bubbling away and then spewing out hot lava.  Thankfully the last time it did that was 10,000 years ago.

Great White Lake is a gem of a destination, a freshwater lake surrounded by beautiful mountains, ringed by numerous ger camps shouting out for people to enjoy it.  And so we did as Dashca drove us down to one of the ‘beaches’ of the lake and we set up camp.  That night after another of Julie’s magic concoctions we sat around our first fire of the trip, thanks to Dashca hunting down bits of wood from goodness knows where, highlighted with dried yak pooh from everywhere.

We knew the next day was sort of a transit day as we move closer to the mountains of northern Mongolia but as we’ve learned over the last couple of weeks, there’s no such thing as a bad drive here. 

The morning passed as we hoped and expected, along the lake’s edge for a while, up and over a series of mountain passes following our usual rough dirt track.  We went over four passes of at least 2,000 metres (6,500 feet), including the highest at 2,300 metres (7,545 feet).  Snow patches were on the mountain tops above us and we would have been lucky to see one car per hour.  As it often seems, we had Mongolia to ourselves.

We passed through the town of Shine-Ider and after another hour found ourselves at Ulziit Khishig Tourist Camp where we camped not in the tourist camp but in what appeared to be a couple’s private ger outside the compound that they had vacated for us. 

Okay, that’s a little awkward with all their personal gear in the ger, including half-eaten food, but we set up for the night, enjoyed a huge passing rain storm and slept like baby yaks on the Mongolia steppe.