I woke up early. I was too excited to sleep any longer and I felt the heat of the sun on my face. I looked over at the empty bed across from me, and looked at Christian’s feet in the bed before me. This traditional Mongolian ger was huge and it’s vinyl floor, scratchy.

But I could not have been more pleased. I took another breath just to remind myself that I was here. The dry air was already unforgiving. I sat up, looked to the little wooden door, and grabbed my sandals.

I silently hit them against their sides to shake any potential bugs that may have made their way into the shoe at night. There was a breeze in the ger’s opening.

“That must have been where the hedgehog came in last night” I thought to myself.

There was no noise outside. I could not hear a soul. But I knew the camp was full. It was this kind of silence that I often dreamed of in New York City.

I slid my shoes on, grabbed a warm beer can, and slowly opened the wooden door. I crouched to get outside and then closed the door behind me. It was colder than what I’d expect a desert to be in the middle of August.

But this was Mongolia in the Gobi desert and I was learning to expect the unexpected.

I walked over to a bench that overlooked the expanse of brown shrubs lining the sand all around us, no roads in sight, and the faint distance of skyscraper tall sand dunes in the distance. I breathed in again, my body shook, fresh air.

This was what mornings were like during most of my days in the Western countryside of Mongolia. Utter silence coupled with shivers down my spine.  A reawakening of the sense that’s only possible through utter isolation and silence.

Galmandakh also known as Galma and our driver,Dauka, who I nicknamed Master Driver, were with us every step of the way. They were our guides for a 12 day private tour through just a portion of this vast country. An undertaking that was a bucket list item for me and one that profoundly shook me in ways unexpected. We choose to go with SunPath Mongolia for our trip.

From the professionalism of Doljmaa who helped us out with logistics, to the friendship and company of Galma and Dauka, I would highly recommend them for your Mongolia adventure.

Today, we were to hike the mighty San Dunes of Khongoryn Els in the Gobi Desert. This epic Sand Dune is 300 meters or almost 1,000 feet high and usually takes the average healthy person 45 minutes to an hour just to get up.

We were staying at the Gobi Erdene Ger Camp in the middle of nowhere. I had no idea what to expect. We had already climbed the Tsagaan Suvarga (the White Stupa) and hiked the Yol Valley in the Gobi Gurvan Saikhan National Park.

But here I was at the epicenter of one of my lifelong dreams and this particular morning I was getting cold feet. I was also ill prepared. I had nothing but jeans and running shows with holes in them or sandals. I’d never climbed sand  dune before and if it was anything like beach sand, I wondered if I could sink.

“Hey” I heard a voice behind me. It was Galma, up early, probably on the way to the bathroom, sleep still in his eyes.

He smiled, surprised to see me drinking a beer at what must have been, 5am? 6am? 7am? I didn’t really know. But the sky was still toned with lines of orange and hints of purple in the sky.

“Hey” I responded chipper. “How are you?’

He paused for a bit longer. He was still waking up. “Ah, good. Good. Yeah, don’t forget we have breakfast at 8:30 am.”

“Ok, um how long is that?”

He struggled “I think it’s in an hour, yeah, an hour. I’ll come get you if you want.”

“No need” I said and went back to my beer. With that he stumbled to the bathroom. I stayed there longer enjoying the silence until other campers began to stir and it was less and less that I was alone. I went back to my ger and back to Christian. He was sitting in bed reading on his phone.

Some people cannot escape technology even in the absence of an internet connection.

At 8:30am we were up eating breakfast in the cafeteria and drinking tons of coffee as Dauka stumbled in a bit late and smiled his huge smile that took up each corner of his square face shaped by big eyes. “Hey” he said and promptly say down and began to eat bread.

Dauka drove us to the middle of the desert where like a mirage in the distance camels appeared. There were about five people before us on them and so we piled out the van and waited. I wasn’t sure what to expect.

“Hey Galma, should I wear sneakers or sandals up the sand dune.” He looked at my sneakers long and hard and suggested I switch to sandals

“Honestly, some people walk barefoot but there are ants”

I was still thinking about quick sand. If I had google I would use it now to escape the potential embarrassment of asking that silly question but my anxiety was growing.

Finally we got on our camels. These one hump sweaty creatures that were taller than any animal I had ever ridden. I instantly missed horses and ponies.

The beast kneeled in front of me, first on his front two legs and then on his back legs. The handler for the camel told me to get on. I swung my leg over the camel and immediately felt myself go sideways. He caught me, laughing at my clumsiness, and then pushed me over. “Hold on” he barked.

Then he placed Christian more gracefully on his camel. Galma naturally just jumped on his. It’s like all Mongolians are born wrestling, riding horses, and being 100% resourceful. It explains how they can survive in such a crazy place.

Soon after the handler let out a “heeei”

And the camels rose simultaneously. It felt like a mechanical bull with a frantic up and down movement that sent my heart into overdrive.

Note to self “I’m not a Camel person”

My camel must have heard my inner thoughts because soon he proceeded to slam my leg against Christian’s camel. I tried tousle the reins to pull it to the side but the camel just literally turned around and looked at me. I was intimidated.

“Excuse me! Is he supposed to do this?” I yelled. The handler came back around with a grumpy face. Pushed the camel away from Christian’s and then went back. As soon as he turned around the camel sped up and crashed my leg against Christian’s camel again.

“Oww!” I YELPED but no one seemed to care. Even Christian sat comfortably and silently on top of his beast. More comfortable than I’ve ever seen him driving anything.

I pulled the camel again. He turned around and opened his mouth. I could have sworn I saw a glimpse of a tongue. Mocking me… I gave up. Fine, crash my leg  endlessly into the other sweaty camel. Maybe it’s some mating thing.

I resorted to asking “Are we there yet?”

After what felt like an eternity the handler stopped his camel and came around and hit the camels legs so they would sit. My mechanical bull jerked me back and forth and then sat. I almost fell off onto the ground rushing to get off that ghastly beast. It did not get a pet from me.

Galma asked us how we liked it and Christian said “I like them better than horses.” I shot him a dirty look. Then we started walk through the sand.

Galma stopped us at the base and pointed us to a sand dune that stretched into heaven.

“We are going up there.” He said pointing

“To meet God?” I thought. Then, I had to ask it.

“There isn’t any quick sand, right. I mean obviously but right?”

Galma laughed. Then he told us to follow.

We got 5 minutes in and I started to wonder why I ever wanted to come here. It was pure torture. One step up then you slid a bit. But at least with feet in the sand you are sturdy.

10 minutes in and I feel all the strength has left me. The hot sand slid between my sandals.

“Take them off” Galma suggests. Then he said “I’ll take your backpack”

He was holding back laughter but at least both Christian and I look winded.

“How long is this going to take?” Christian rightly asks

“It depends on you. I had a 75 year old man take an hour and a half but he made it.”

Was this some cruel shaming joke? Now there was no way we could let a 75 year old man beat us. But still…

20 minutes in and only 1/4 of the way there I ask.

“Was he an exceptionally fit 75 year old?” I thought of the grandpa models I had seen on Instagram. That viral post of Instagram grandpa stars. I mean, I would not feel bad if I could not compete with them.

“Hehe, no, he was yeah, normal.”  Galma replied.

Damn.

30 minutes in and we picked up some speed. At the halfway point I looked down the slope and felt a bit nauseous. It felt that if I looked down too long I’d start to tumble.

I looked up at the slope and it too felt like an impossible hike. I stopped and laid out “wait” I said. I asked for my backpack and took another drink of water. I felt a gust of wind suddenly blow sand into my hair.  I completely surrender to the sand and just laid there.

Laying there in the baking sun, cool and hot sand under my body I felt calm again. My toes reaching in to the sand. I closed my eyes and sighed. Wiping the sweat from my forehead.

“Just five minutes” I whispered.

Everyone seemed grateful.

We waited and a group of people speaking Korean stopped and laid near us. Two out of the seven in the group kept going and I watched them become specks in the distance.

Then the group next to us moved. I looked at Christian. He got up to move. Galma stayed by my side. “Go on” I urged. “I’ll be there”

And he left.

I turned myself over like a  beached whale and allowed my stomach to touch the sand. Thrusting my hands into the sand I pushed myself up. “Just a bit more” I told myself.

50 minutes in and I was just looking at the peak, maybe a good 10 or 5 minutes away, It was hard to tell. All 3 of us were sitting there together. Looking at the last stretch. I felt almost like giving up but I had come too far.

Then I heard a voice “Come on”

It came from above. The group of Korean tourist beckoned to us from the very top. “It’s only 5 more minutes. You can do it.”  I looked around and there was no one but us. They were talking to us. “Just 5 more minutes, It’s beautiful up here” they yelled down.

It was now or never. Christian got up and just ran for it. He looked like a baby taking their first steps. Galma powered through. I stood up and felt wobbly. Like I could fall backwards and roll down.

Instead I fell forward. Then shamelessly I started to climb on all fours, reaching like a child for the edge of a crib. Pulling myself with everything I had left. The edge was getting closer but each step was heavier. In the distance the tourist began to chant “climb, climb, climb!”

I felt victorious. So damn close! I had cheerleaders. There was no turning back.

I let out a grunt of misery when my hand finally touched a flat surface. Yes, here I was! Holy, mother of God, I was so close to heaven.

I pulled myself and everyone cheered. I thanked them.

We took a selfie.

We could end wars if everyone just climbed Khongoryn Els together.

Photo from Saeromi Yoo from Korea.

Up top there are no words that can find me. I am breathlessly silent. Even Christian has put down his phone. The air is weaker but I feel incredibly alive.

Then Galma said “You can run down if you want. They say you can hear the wind whisper when you run”

“In 10 minutes” I respond. The moment demanded silence.

CC: Jasmine Nears Biesinger

Want More Mongolia?

Check out my blog posts from when I was there:

RETURNING FROM MONGOLIA

LOST LUGGAGE AND UNDERWEAR