Orkhon

The third day of the journey across the steppe left me with the most beautiful impressions of this land. Since there’re so many stunning photos, I’ll try to write less so that each picture has a chance to be seen.

An Off-road Trip

That morning we had early breakfast at the camp and eagerly got into the car to head towards Orkhon Valley. The clear morning sky signaled a wonderful day ahead.

From Kharkhorin we followed A0601 Road and A08 Road before beginning the off-road stretch along the Orkhon River valley. The route was just over 120km, making it much easier than yesterday, except one thing that most of the time I was bouncing over rolling hills and unfinished roads.

The first part of the journey was a relaxing time, allowing us to freely take in the vast, boundless landscape beneath the open blue sky - though it was nothing compared to the scenes awaiting us later.

The car began traveling on the dirt road along the Orkhon River, with the river itself appearing and disappearing as if playing hide-and-seek with the travelers. Workers were seen constructing along the route, so I imagine it’ll be paved in the future, making the journey even more comfortable. That said, thanks to the flat terrain of the steppe, the ride was still much smoother than other off-road trips I’d ever experienced.

Of course, through the eyes of an ordinary person, I can just sum it up in one word: outstanding. Orkhon is beautiful for its smooth, lush green folds, with brown trails sketching graceful curves on the grass. These trails may seem like random scribbles, but in reality they wind along the hills in the most optimal way possible.

Gazing into the distance, I could see the mountain ranges over the northern bank of the river, with massive herds of livestock dotting the landscape in black and white.

From this point on, the traveler could only focus on the scenery due to no internet signal; and if one gets too caught up recording with a phone, no storage space would ever be enough, as every passing moment is simply perfect.

The Meandering Curve of the River

Continuing a bit further, we made a brief stop at the closest point between the road and the river, the Uurtiin Tokhoi Cliff.

A graceful curve unfolded before my eyes, as well as the golden foliage of the riverside trees, and all a traveler could do was to keep pressing the shutter button to capture this open landscape.

The Last Mile to the Campsite

Thin clouds were drifting lazily halfway up the mountains, while below, herds of horses roamed carefree across the land.

From this point onwards, the terrain feature - the rocky mountains - came gradually closer. The midday sky had cleared, here and there appeared some solitary houses. One couldn’t help but compare these photos to the iconic Windows XP wallpapers.

Our car crossed the shallow waters, cutting through flocks of gentle, innocent sheep. There’re so many of them that one could easily play sheep counting game and drift into a dream.

At one point we stopped midway to ask for directions from a local police officer dressed in traditional attire, sitting on a rugged motorcycle, while surrounding us was the boundless green hills. I think such moment might only happen a handful of times in my life.

Finally we had arrived at the campsite at noon just as the clouds had cleared. This was both the most beautiful and the least convenient camp of the entire trip. What amused me the most and had me laughing non-stop was the toilet perched on the hill, which I called the surreal toilet.

After a brief unexpected drizzle pattering on the yurt’s roof, the weather finally returned to its true Mongolian essence. That noon, a sheep was seen hiding behind the yurt to rest, and I even had a chance to lend a hand in making mutton khuushuur.

Horse Riding to Orkhon Waterfall

The highlight of that afternoon was that I got to ride a horse - once again. The first time was back in 2019 in Chimgan, Uzbekistan with a little horse; for this time I rode a much taller horse - a true legendary Mongolian one.

On the first ride, the elderly horseman led the horses while I simply sat on the saddle. Of course sitting atop a horseback at neck height isn’t a task one can master instantly, at least, it’s trickier than sitting on a camel, since horses are always standing upright. Watching my guide rode her horse effortlessly, I realized that horse riding must be second nature to the Mongols.

Finally arrived at Orkhon Waterfall! Here I had to climb down steep rocky steps to reach the riverbed, a place that felt completely different from the steppe outside. A few travelers from afar had spread out their mats, basking alone in the sunlight amid the green grassland, free from all worldly worries.

Walking through rows of golden and crimson-leaved trees, with afternoon sunshine filtering through the foliage and the roar from the waterfall as well as the crystal-clear murmur of the river surrounding, the scenery felt like something straight out of a movie, or a lively rendered game scene that we could touch and hear it.

On the way back, I was given the freedom to hold the reins and control the horse myself. Instead of using legs to urge the horse forward, I had to use a whip, but seemingly my horse was in no hurry, only occasionally trotting. Sometimes the horse would snort or stop midway to relieve itself; to get moving faster, I had to keep shouting ‘shu’ to spur it on.

A Solitary Sunset

Of all the sunsets I’ve experienced, I can say that the Orkhon sunset is the most liberating and undisturbed. I, as an observer, could fully immerse myself in every passing moment, taking in the scenery from every angle, finding joys from the smallest details as much as the vast, colossal things.

Walking past the surreal toilet for a short distance, I came across a shallow pristine stream that a long time later I could realize it’s actually the Ulaan River.

By this time I no longer cared much about taking photos, and that’s the ultimate state of relaxation, when my mind’s completely unburdened, free even from the FOMO of capturing as many pictures as possible to take home.

The water babbled as it flowed over smooth, round pebbles. Here I could wash my hands and face, a simple luxury since the camp had limited water. I could also sit by the river, resting my feet on the boulders, gazing at the lone tree bathed in warm sunlight.

Who else is here with me in this moment?

As the sun slowly faded, the sky continuously put on a dazzling display of colors - orange, pink, purple and blue. The vast sky embraced the lone houses, and at this moment, the only sounds left were the murmurs of grazing livestock and my own voice speaking to myself, knowing that no one else could hear it.

Both then and now, I find myself overwhelmed - every angle, every shot was stunning. A photograph, if it never feels dull or uninspiring to the one who took it as time goes by, is already a success.

And at that moment I kept whispering in my mind: we’re happy cause we get to explore the world in this era, when the Earth hasn’t been overly ravaged yet, and humanity has the means and technology to capture every fleeting moment.

This beauty cannot be expressed by a single frame. When our eyes take in a breathtaking 360-degree view, they eagerly absorb every detail, yet our minds can never replay the scene with perfect accuracy.

The Starlights

After a freezing dinner in the dimly lit yurt, savoring a superbly delicious plate of tsuivan, I carried my tripod and fumbled through the darkness towards the riverbank, guided only by my phone’s LED light. There’re a few scattered lights from motorbikes or some distant livestock sheds, but they’re barely noticeable.

Surrounded by darkness, I soon lost my way; but as long as the yurts remained within sight, everything’s alright. The cold winds howled relentlessly, standing alone in the dark was no easy feat, yet the star-studded sky with the Milky Way shimmering above only fueled my determination for this photo hunt.

As smoke from wood-burning stoves rose and created a mystical haze, the photographer would recognize this familiar scene from the starry night photos of Mongolia: the yurts sheltered beneath the infinite universe.

Counting Sheep

Waking up early to catch sunrise is never a mistake when traveling. There’re things only present at dawn, and certainly the beauty of sunrise is something you get to claim as your own.

As my body still shivered from the cold, I tried my best to break free from the bed and pushed open the yurt door. A surreal sight, seemingly only possible in dreams, unfolded before my eyes: thousands of sheep, goats and cattle had long been awake, surrounding the camp, with a few standing right beside me.

The sun gradually rose above the rolling steppes, spreading down the honey-like golden light.

The herd slowly moved towards the river to drink. If not acting fast, within half a minute the scene would no longer be the same. The traveler with the camera in hand stood in awe; while in the eyes of the livestock, a strange human seemed to be chasing after them.

I spent nearly two hours just wandering around this area until the herd had completely occupied the hills, dotting the green grass with countless tiny specks.

What is ordinary for one person may be a dream, a fantasy for another.