Manzushir Khiid?

After two crazy and hectic weeks, Dan, Andrew and I decided a little break was in order. After picking up a copy of the Mongolia Expat magazine, we saw an article about Manzusir Khiid (pronounced Manshir Heed), which is the ruins of an ancient monastery with Buddhist rock paintings. It is about a 7-8 hour hike from where we live, so we decided we would hike down, camp overnight and hike back.

On Saturday morning, we left at close to 10 am, and headed south. As we were leaving John K decided he would hike part way and head back. We travelled along the valley to the south and had a pretty intense climb to the peak. We reached the peak around 12:30 and ate lunch. After lunch, John decided he was going to head back, while the three of us continued on. not even 10 minutes later we were greeted with an incredible view. Following a few pictures, we continued on. We arrived at the top of a fairly decent descent, and decided to have a quick break, before heading down the hill. Just seconds into our break, Dan happened to look to the left and saw what we originally thought to be a deer. We realized shortly afterward that the were four, and they were actually young elk, rather than deer. The elk walk right up to us and started sniffing our packs before wandering off into the accompanying pasture. We took some incredible photos, and then after a few minutes, continued on into the field. We tried circling around, while getting many more spectacular pictures. As we reached the far end of the field, one of the females, took a particular interest in us, and began to approach rather quickly. We thought this was a bit odd, and tried to put some trees between us and the elk. The female faced off against Dan, and started circling the tree. He shed his pack to increase his mobility. It turns out that the elk didn't really like Dan's pack so much, and forced Dan and Andrew to the East, while I was forced West. Suddenly there were all four elk dividing us from each other.

The females started herding Dan and Andrew around, preventing them from retrieving the pack, while the male kept a close eye on me. I slowly put some distance between us while Dan and Andrew were forced back up the hill and off to the west. In the mean time, I watched the male start sniffing Dan's pack. One of the straps got caught on it's antler, and it took particular offense to this, and started attacking it. For close to an hour, the male kept lifting it up off the ground, and even took a full charge at the pack. Eventually, the male moved away, leaving it for dead. Unfortunately, I didn't have the best view, and could not tell how far the elk had moved. I laid in wait, testing nearby trees, as they seemed to be able to appear without notice, and thought I might have to make a hasty climb. After 30 minutes, I tentatively ventured forward, checking all directions after every few steps. I was able to get within 10 feet of the pack (which had been moved at least 60 feet by the buck) when John sent me a text message asking how we were doing. I hastily sent a reply saying "Dan had his pack attacked by an elk" and turned off my phone to avoid alerting the elk to my position. I quickly grabbed his pack, and returned to the spot that I had left my own. I tried turning my phone back on, when I realized I couldn't remember the necessary PIN code, and was now unable to communicate with anyone. Since it had been close to 2 hours since the attack began, and I hadn't seen the other two in well over an hour, I thought that they might be trying to get the pack, and they needed to know I had it. I made a quick dash across the edge of the clearing, and started to call out for my friends. Receiving no response, I turned and saw the buck only 20 feet away. I quickly put some trees between us, and stayed out of sight. I made the quick dash back across the field, when I heard Dan make "the call of the north" courtesy of Bob and Doug Mackenzie. As I ran for cover, I signalled to head down the hill. We regrouped at the packs, and made a hasty retreat down the hill. Unfortunately, down the hill was not where we wanted to be going.

When we reached the bottom, we checked our GPS and noticed the we were off course a little, but has some mountains between us and our destination. We continued along the beautiful valley floor for a while, when we encountered a German man on a BMW motorbike, who told us it was rough going to get to our destination. By this point it was already 4 pm. After climbing a small hill, we realized that there were several mountains in our way, and we elected to bail on Manzushir Khiid. Andrew remembered having been in the valley before and that there were some gers up the "road" a little ways. We decided to try for them, but were willing to set up camp if we couldn't get there before dark. After a couple of hours of walking, and dwindling daylight, we saw a ger camp in the distance, and made the trek forward.

We reached the camp just after 6, and thankfully, it was open for business. We discovered it would cost T25000 to rent a ger for the three of us (just over $20), and figured that was fine since it would have been T15000 for entry into Mazushir Khiid. We were brought beer, water and food (in that order) before looking to retire. We also attempted to call home in case word of the attack had spread to Dan's wife, Tina. We had brought a bottle of wine and a bottle of vodka as well, and were well into those as well. As we left the little dining room, Dan and I turned to find an older man holding Andrew's hand, and a bewildered look on Andrew's face. The man was enamoured with our beards, and invited us over to his ger, which was located next to the camp. We entered his camp to find his family very hospitable, yet embarrassed by his drunkenness. They fed us homemade biscuits and yogurt. We eventually parted way, after he spent some time singing about his love for Andrew, and mashing his face into Andrew's cheek. We prepared some food, cooked it on the stove and left it for morning. It was a pleasant experience communicating with so many people who spoke no English.

After a fitful sleep, we re lit the stove, reheated the food, and had breakfast. We thought we would head south to Zumoond, a town of about 17 000, and catch a ride to UB. As we were leaving, one of the camp staff told us that it was quicker to go over the mountain and we would find a road. We took his word for it, and we pleasantly greeted by a road on the other side. We reached said road, and walked for about 15 minutes when a man drove by, and gave us a ride to the main road from the airport. We gave him T1000 for his trouble, and decided to start walking home. We made it about 12 metres before we were offered another ride. We graciously accepted, and realized en route that it would have taken hours to get back home. We gave this gentleman a little cash, and had him drop us at the Zaisan Memorial.

The Zaisan memorial is close to our place, so we decided to climb the mountain. It was built by the Soviets to commemorate the valiant fighting the Mongolians provided during WWII. The memorial is atop a small mountain, and is all about Soviet superiority and its defeat of the Nazis and the Japanese (?). After Zaisan, we trekked home, which was only about a 10 minute walk.

Maybe next time we'll actually go to Manzushir Khiid.