When in Mongolia....

I figure if you are reading this blog, you probably know me well enough to know I am not exactly an avid hunter.  In fact, I haven't shot anything beyond a clay pigeon since I was in junior high.  With that said, when my buddies proposed a December wolf hunting expedition to Mongolia I thought it sounded like the epitome of manliness.  This was certainly going to be a trip our wives would not complain much about not getting to participate in.  

There are only a few outfits that offer wolf hunting in Mongolia and we decided to go the ultimate budget route.  This worked out well because it allowed us to spend a little extra getting the warm garb that is needed when four guys from Bangkok decide to spend a week in Mongolia.  To say the climate change was drastic would be a severe understatement.  According to the Mongolians, we were lucky because this was the warmest Mongolian December in many years.  It didn't feel like it to us as the resulting temperature drop from Bangkok to Mongolia was still between 80-100 degrees, as opposed to the 120 it probably should have been.

 The village we were staying in was about a six hour drive from Ulaanbataar, most of which was on either dirt, snow or brush, and usually a combination of the three. Upon arrival we quickly realized our budget outfitter would allow us a pretty good opportunity to experience life similar to a local Mongolian.  This was awesome and I wouldn't have had it any other way.  We stayed in a snug little 12x12 room without running water but with some comfy wooden cots.  The closeness of the beds made it a perfect setup for a friendly game of hearts at the end of each day hunting.  My usual luck with cards failed me three nights out five and I was rewarded with having to do push ups over the outhouse hole.  If any of my siblings want to see video highlights let me know.  I decided I would spare my other six readers of the blog the sight.



Whatever luck I was missing in hearts, I made up for in hunting wolves.  From my first experience in hunter's safety class at age 10 (I was the only one in a class of 30 that could not hit a picture of a rabbit from about 15 yards away) I have been well-aware of my limited aim when it comes to shooting guns.  That is why I was absolutely shocked when, not an hour into our first morning hunt, I nailed a wolf running full speed with a single shot, literally right between the eyes (notice the dark spot right between his eyes).  It was uncanny.  At this point, our guide was thinking I was some kind of sharp shooter. It didn't take long for me to prove him otherwise.

Each of the four of us had one tag for a wolf and one tag for a gazelle.  In Mongolia there are literally thousands of gazelles roaming the steppe.  We were told by our guide that he could not guarantee we would shoot wolves (it would depend on your skill), but he guaranteed each of us would get a gazelle (no matter how bad of shot we were).  On our gazelle hunt, Dan got things started quickly by taking down his gazelle on his very first attempt.  Jonny was next and looked great getting one on his second attempt.  Spencer was next and he was efficient enough to get a husband/wife gazelle combo in only 5 shots.  

At this point, our guide was still quite impressed by our skills.  I then proceeded to shoot and miss at seventeen separate gazelles.  It was about as embarrassing a showing as that dreaded day when I failed hunter's safety class.   Luckily, as the saying goes, even a blind squirrel can find a nut once in a while.  On the 18th shot I finally nailed my gazelle.  At that point our guide literally fell to his knees and offered a few Mongolian hosannas up to the sky.  It was embarrassing, but at least I could retire from the gazelle hunt and we had managed to fill each of our four gazelle tags.

Over the next four days of hunting we managed to fill our four wolf tags as well.  They were definitely more scarce in numbers and presented a tricky target as they seemed to like running away from us, more so than the still standing gazelles that I couldn't hit.

The best part of the gazelle hunt was us getting to eat the meat via the traditional Mongolian barbecue.  Before this trip I only new Mongolian barbecue as the place where you can go and stuff as much food into a bowl as humanly possible and then let them try to pry the food from the bowl so they can cook it on a skillet.  I am not sure where the Americans came up with that idea, but apparently it is not exactly accurate.  The real Mongolian barbecue consists of making a big fire and putting a bunch of rocks inside the fire.  Once the flames burn down you separate the rocks and brush them off a little so you can place the meat directly on the hot rocks.  This method is easier than trying to bring all of the barbecue tools we use in the US.  The result is a delicious gazelle barbecue.  It was a delicious meal and it was very nice to enjoy a little warmth of the fire during the lunch break.



Another use of the lunch break was to allow our Mongolian guide to skin our wolf skins.  After I shot the first wolf, our guide was excited to let us know it was a male wolf.  After he had been working on the wolf for a few minutes he came over to the group with what we soon learned to be the wolf's testicles.  The guide separated the two and plopped one in his mouth telling us it was good luck.  He looked at me and handed me the second.  All I could muster was a nervous, "when in Mongolia, do as the Mongolians do."  It was nice that it was still warm so I could at least imagine it had been cooked.

All in all, the trip was amazing.  We had a lot of fun and even stayed un-frozen (I originally had warm there) for the most part.  Mongolia was a truly foreign country and I am lucky to have experienced it as we did.  Speaking of lucky, this applies to any of my siblings whom I have your name for Christmas......  Let's just say your presents are coming from Mongolia.  What could go wrong with that?



This pictures looks almost as cold as it really felt.





  

koh chang

I love Bangkok but getting out every month or so has become fairly important to my sanity. It's nice to see the sky, the trees and not smell things that shouldn't be smelled, ever. Thailand is a beautiful country and it could be easy to forget if we never left the city. Luckily for us, you can find cheap hotel rooms, especially in the low (rainy) season.

After two straight weekends of cancelled trips we finally escaped and headed out to Koh Chang for the long weekend.

 

It was a four hour drive and 30 minute ferry ride, there. Coming home, it was a four hour wait for the ferry, one hour long ferry ride and a four hour drive. (I'll admit there was a lot of Dinosaur Train watched in the car--I can now sing the Dinosaurs A to Z song from start to finish, something I NEVER wanted to be able to do.) 

It was still worth it.

This is E's T-Rex smile.

This is Vi's beach babe look.

We took a hike in the jungle to this waterfall:

 

Turns out this sign was not a lie.

This is exactly how Rocky looked, just add in Vi in the Ergo and my camera, luckily both on his stomach. I would also like to note that right before he fell, I said these exact words, "Rocky, I'm a little worried about my camera, I think I should carry it." It may surprise some of you, but I have a bit of a rep for being clumsy, I've fallen down a staircase or two or twenty. Rocky's response was to turn and laugh at me, then fall flat on his back.

After making sure Vi and my camera were safe (in that order of course) I informed him I was going to gloat about this for a very long time. And then inform all the people he had ever made fun of for being clumsy (Roman, Cheryl) how stupendous his fall from superiority was.

Can you tell how wet Vi got? She was fast asleep--the second time in her life she was woken up to being doused with freezing cold water. Songkran. She is either going to be very well adjusted or have a crippling fear of water...or sleep...or her parents (I already see this spinning out of control).

There was a small pool near the base of the fall where E could play safely, she didn't ever want to leave. With her hatred of water that is warmer than 60 degrees, she prefers the freezing river to the warm ocean. Also, she is convinced a Megladon will eat her and refuses to go in the ocean anymore. (And this is where her dinosaur obsession goes awry).

The next day we tried a hike to another waterfall. This one was a little deeper and Elie had to be carried. She wasn't so game. It turned into a debate between the two of them half way across. He refused to give up, she wanted to go back, Vi wanted to keep sleeping, the Thai lifeguard kept pantomiming for us to let him carry E across. She won, we went back. 

Vi napping at the beach. Now that she can roll over, she always sleeps on her stomach.

 We love the beach. Especially with a nice breeze and some cloud cover. The weather was perfect, especially for the parents who drag their three month old around Thailand and/or are bad at reapplying sunscreen.