The Mountain

            It started as a statement. “I think we should climb that mountain.” It changed to a challenge. “You can’t make it there and back in time.” It ended as an accomplishment. “We did that with time to spare!”

            Our team had just arrived at Bayan Gobi, the small camp on the edge of the Gobi desert. After unpacking and settling into our hut, I was taking in my surroundings. The most outstanding feature was the large mountain a distance outside of camp. The mountain piqued my interest, and as I was itching to break out my camera I thought it would be fun to climb it. I mentioned the possibility to Seth Preuss, who was intrigued, but questioned our ability to have the time. So we sought out Adam Lee who informed us that we had an hour until dinner, giving us an hour to accomplish our mission. We thought it would be fun to include others. However, we encountered naysayers.

            Most people we talked to said that they would rather make for the much more attainable goal of visiting the dunes of the Gobi. Zach Oedewaldt was rather vocal about his opposition to our plan. “You will never make it to the top. Have fun at the tree line at the base!” We were not daunted. Instead we accepted the challenge and took off.

            The large plain that was between us and the base of the mountain was a lot rougher than it appeared. With the time out on the grasslands, I had time to reflect on why I was marching across the Mongolian steppes by the Gobi Desert at all. I was a part of twenty seven students who were given the opportunity to travel around the world and study for one semester. Mongolia was our first stop of ten countries we would visit on this trip. While visiting each country we would read a book from the country’s history, one from its modern era, and explore while participating in mission projects. This trip to the Gobi was part of our exploration of Mongolia. The huts which were staying it were also part of our cultural immersion in Mongolia. These huts, in Russia known as yurts but in Mongolia called gers, are the primary residences of the Mongolian nomads who wander the steppes with their herds and flocks. To me this was the opportunity of a lifetime, and I wanted to make the most of it. Trudging across the bumpy grasslands, I realize that that is the reason I am even trying to make the top of the hill, so that I don’t miss a single opportunity.

            Seth and I decide to bring our pace up to a light jog. This is difficult for me as I am carrying a camera and running across ground that is as smooth as the ocean during a gale. Even considering that, we got pretty far before we were stalled. There was a small creek which blocked our path. After debating whether to make a jump for it and trust our luck or to use the minimal stepping stones, we came to a decision. Seth leapt first so that I could see how it was before trying while holding a camera. Clearing the stream with ease we continued our jog to the base of the mountain.

            Shortly after crossing the creek we reached the base of the hill and began our climb. The minor hill, which was about half the vertical climb, was achieved. I looked at my watch and saw that only eight minutes had elapsed; so much for not making the tree line at the base of the hill. We stopped, took pictures, made videos, and then decided we could make the ridge at the top. So after skirting what appeared to be a shamanistic altar with a horse skull on top we continued our march up the ever increasing incline.

            Due to the cold air, the light jog, the hard climb and the high elevation, I was wheezing as we continued to climb. Making periodical stops, we climbed such a steep grade that I was almost forced to use my hands to stabilize myself. Twenty minutes after our initial take off and a few feet below Seth, I heard him say, “Well this is definitely worth it.” And mounting the ridge, I agreed. Stretching out in front of me was the Mongolian landscape, large fields of greenery, gentle sloping hills. Off to my right I looked and the green broke in a solid line and gave way to the sandy dunes of the Gobi Desert. The scene was quite a sight to behold. Quite impressed, I whipped out my camera so that I wouldn’t miss a moment.

            As I fired my camera, adjusting settings and angles, Seth started building a shrine. He took small pebbles and started using them to form a cross. When I asked his reasoning he said, “The pagans shouldn’t be the only ones to have an altar here, so I’m making this one, and higher up too.” Proud of his efforts I tried to snap pictures of the rocks, but they blended too well, so nothing showed up. Disappointed, I switched my photos to personal victory shots. Seth posed for me as I snapped pictures of him pointing to our ger camp in the far off distance. Then I handed off my camera and showed him how to operate it so that the pictures would turn out. After he snapped a few of me, we decided to contemplate the world around us. Unfortunately, we did not have the time to wait for sun set, so we headed off our mountain, feeling successful.

            The hike down was less strenuous when one considers the strength aspect. In light of balance, and fear of falling, it was a much more intimidating climb. Leaning back and choosing my foot placement carefully I slowly made my way off the steep part of the mountain. All the while, whether from exhilaration of escaping a near death experience or from the desire to fill the silence I am not sure, I babbled, talking about strange and pointless things. Once I realized this I laid off in order to allow my companion to enjoy the scenery without my interference.

            Once we climbed all the way off the mountain, we took stock of the time and decided we did not need to run across the large field, but a brisk walk would do. We took off at a swift march and soon encountered the stream we crossed before. This was a cause for concern. Before we had leapt and succeeded, but coming back we realized that that would not work since the bank we were currently on was lower than the other. We paced, and contemplated jumping, but seeing as I had my expensive camera and was wearing jeans, I decided against. We widened our search, hoping for a good jumping point or some handy stepping stones. Soon we encountered some stones that seemed to suffice. There was one just breaking the surface of the water that was large and flat, then a narrow one that provided only a corner to walk on. I decided that Seth could go first so that I could see if I would be able to manage with a camera. His foot slipped in as he walked upon the narrow stone, which caused concern on my part. Having failed and discovering why, Seth was able to coach me to basically run and I would make it. Having nothing but time to lose by waiting, I went for it. Happily only the rubber soles of my shoes got wet and I was able to carry on.

            The only think at that point keeping us from achieving our goal was a large field. Checking the time and realizing that we had over a quarter of an hour left, we realized that our goal was almost assured. With this in mind, we decided to try and beat Zach back from his trek out to the sand dunes. We walked into camp, and it appeared vacant of our team except for Ellie Johnson who was playing with some small children who were denizens of the camp. Unable to find anyone else we played with the children until we heard a commotion and assumed it was the rest of our party. Seeking them out, we used the opportunity to gloat.

            “Have fun at the trees you said. Well we made it to the top of the mountain!”

            “I wanna see pictures! Picts or it didn’t happen!”

            “You want pictures? Look, here’s me. There’s Seth. And you can see the rest of the mountain in this one.”

            “Alright, I believe you. Good job. Those are some nice pictures.”

            Pleased with myself for having had a mountain top experience, I decided it was time to settle down and grab some dinner to celebrate my victory.