On the road, from Ulaanbaatar to Lake Khovsgol - July 6

July 6
Mugi, our Mongolian driver appears skeptical, but from a safely removed standpoint he is at least letting us try to place our two 17 foot long canoes on his rather small roof rack. In an attempt to gain his support we are overly zealous, running to and fro attempting and ultimately failing to fit the two canoes in the limited space. Finally we conclude that the thwarts (wooden structural pieces in the center of a canoe) must be taken out, so that the canoes can cup each other. As Ulysse points out this will affect their durability during transport, which is no small matter; the three/four day road ahead is known at times to be impassable and even in its best condition it will test the drivers skill and his vehicle endurance. As we hoist and steady the second canoe our driver begins to have a change in heart, after tugging on the canoes and testing the strap tightness he seems convinced; we are ready to leave.

July 8
My hands and shirt are covered in rich black mud, but my predicament is nothing compared to Ulysse, who is currently lying under the car with Mugi, swarmed by bugs. They are both lying in the mud, working one of the two jacks that have are raising the car axle out of the bog. We have advanced no more than 10 meters in the last 3 hours; and it is the third time we have sunk to our axle. During this time Ulysse and our driver have worked the jacks while the rest of us have tromped through the woods collecting wood to place in front of the car to keep it from sinking into the mud for a fourth time. Mugi and Ulysse get up off the ground, our driver gives us a distinctive nod and the four of us position ourselves behind the car. At the count of three we push, and like a charm the car is freed from the bog.
The route was not all like this, from Ulaanbaatar to the tourist town of Khatgal it was bumpy and dusty, but not all together unpleasant. At Khatgal we spent the night in a cozy ger camp (a hotel where you reside in Mongolian yurts) and rested for what would be a rather long journey. But rested as we were we did not expect this, and apparently nor did our driver.

From the bog, we advanced slowly down a gentle hillside, to come face to face with another marsh. We left the car to scout the conditions, but as a passing jeep illustrated (the only other vehicle we had seen today) the road ahead was for those with better equipped machines. After a brief conversation with the occupants of the jeep our driver announced that we were going to turn back: we would have to find another way to the start of the expedition. But more pressingly we would have to ford the bog again.

Eric McNair-Landry