Johan de Zoete wrote



Hi there, Martin.

How are you? I am well.

Rhoda and I had a great time at your ranch. Thanks to you and Minjee for the hospitality.

Take care, and all the best


well thank you for the nice e-mail it makes us think here on the ranch we are doing the right thing.
unfortunately we still haven't got your pictures yet .....please send some thanks

stefan from germany and emilie from the states came to stay a few days at the ranch






emilie on a learning holiday loves horses and has been working on many horse ranchs breaking in horses so before she left mongolia she did break a mongolian horse(we hope to have some pictures from that)




emilie ?????

wrong mount you are on a cow not a horse they don't need breaking in



that's better girl now you got it right


stefan on a world tour and mongolia being his first stop has a long way to go ...all the best mate and good luck






stefan i hope you will see many more beautiful places on your journey ...zaya says ......be carefull out there

TITANIC "TAKE TWO"

OR IS IT IN FACT A FLYING DUTCH MAN HAVING FUN







RECORDS ARE THERE TO BE BROKEN

After so much traveling we really looked forward being in one location for a while. Having read about the Anak Ranch—a working ranch in the north of Mongolia—in our guide book, we thought that's our spot. And it definitely was, we had a fantastic week here. I can say that we worked a bit—a bit on our book and even less on the farm



—and we relaxed a lot.



We did a lot of sleeping, horse riding, hiking.




Learned how to milk a cow



and how to herd the cows. That last thing is very special.

And oh, yes we set a new record for climbing the local mountain top. Totally exhausted we put our feet at the top after 1 hour en 35 minutes. Where the record was 1 hour and 45 minutes. Not too bad, is it?



Yes, we enjoyed ourselves a lot at the farm.

SO THATS WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT OUR PLACE

the bears WHO?

well the kiwi family with 8 kids and a grandpa who came to stay with us

authentic anak
by Rach
Orkhon, Mongolia
I was a teeny bit apprehensive about signing up for time at Anak Ranch. It might be a real working farm, but it also has a snazzy website and is supposedly set up to cater to tourists. This fact alone means there is the potential that we might be housed in “fake traditional” accommodation, eating food palatable solely to a Westerner and only allowed to pat the animals from the safe side of the fence.
Ha!
This is no tourist operation. There are no guides telling you what to look at or where to point your camera. Yes, there is traditional orange furniture (you can paint anything any colour in Mongolia so long as it is orange), but it is truly authentic. So is the long drop squat toilet and the firebox you need to keep stoked if you want to stay warm. The food is nothing short of traditional – there’s not a remote hint of Westerner-pleasing going down here. Not with garlic instead of drinking chocolate in your hot milk at night and lambs’ tails and black tea in your morning rice porridge! And fresh – why the milk comes straight from the cows.
As for the animals, even our two year old was let loose in a pen full of horned charging goats on the first day! And by the second day of horse-riding, one of the boys was invited to help round up the goats on horseback. Yes siree! This is the real thing! You can get your hands dirty shovelling cow dung (and we have), you can have a go at making dumplings (we’ll tick that box too), you can wander off across the steppe to the hills, you can stay wrapped up in bed all day if you want to watching the stars through the roof hole in the ger change to morning light, then to bright blue sky throwing shafts of sunlight at you…listening to the wind whistle and dogs bark outside in the snow flurry that comes across (we, of course, got up to marvel at the few snowflakes that blew past all too quickly!)
This is one authentic experience, one that meshes perfectly with our real life learning educational philosophy.
Actually, by the end of a week here, Jboy13 will be putting together a proposal that he returns here some day to research the weather patterns for a year, do eight hours farm work a day in exchange for food and a bed and put in some independent study time in the evenings. Sounds like a great education, don’t you think? Authentic, even if not recognised.
He won’t find a professor or any textbooks, but he’d have daily access to a widely experienced tutor. Martin, in fact. Remember Martin? Click here if you don’t!
Born in Germany to a Cossack father and mother with Austrian aristocracy ties, he lived in Australia, PNG, Philippines etc etc etc and used his time in a variety of enterprises; everything from the army to Master Builder, from glass bottom boat operator to lawyer (for real), from chicken raiser to architect. Jack of all trades, master of none? More like jack of all trades, Martin’s the man.
And he ended up in Mongolia. He’s been here nine years and is proof that “good things take time”, “it won’t happen overnight, but it will happen”, and other advertisement catch-phrases. (By the way, without a doubt, his favourite would be “Bugger”!) – apologies to non-kiwi readers unfamiliar with these ads.

Anyway, he has taken a piece of desert and turned it into a real working farm, a sustainable one, what’s more. With an eye to the future and having evaluated what really matters in life, he is putting down roots in Mongolia in more ways than one; both raising a family here and reclaiming the barren countryside. He is making a difference, providing jobs for a bunch of locals, sharing his knowledge, leading by example. (Go away Marty, stop reading now, your head will be swelling and ya won’t be able to get it out of your ger!)
In this place you can see grass growing where recently there was just sand. You see a healthy assortment of cows, goats, sheep, horses and dogs. You see the beginnings of an orchard and huge vegetable gardens. You see permaculture principles at work. He has created an ecosystem, where nothing is wasted, everything has a purpose. The begun-but-not-quite-finished bathhouse will be solar-heated in summer, all waste water will be fed to the gardens (and therefore no harsh soaps or other harmful chemicals will be allowed…with a germanic eye for detail he has really thought it all out). The begun-but-not-quite-finished dairy will provide an amazing setup for preparing cheese on a large scale and there’s a massive pizza oven tucked into one end too! Not that they need a separate facility – the cheese coming out of the gers now is deliciously divine. Then there are the huge workshop, milking shed, storehouse, fenced yards and stables….all of those have already been completed. In the summertime local kids buy his iceblocks made with milk from his cows, he’s hoping that in the next winter or so you’ll be able to buy frozen milk and frozen lettuce (silverbeet would be a treat if he could get seeds). And don’t forget the cashmere industry he’s supplying.
In his spare time he still works as a lawyer, and while we’re visiting he’s playing the part of a very hospitable host too, welcoming us into his compound and then welcoming himself into our ger for cups of coffee, shared meals and many a rollicking story. (*** addendum: he is also a miracle worker. When our laptop charger blew up, he managed to find a replacement for us there in Outer Mongolia within 3 days! Now THAT is impressive!)
Anak Ranch is a truly inspirational set-up, leaving one thinking that if it can be done here, it can be done anywhere – and by jove, it *is* happening here. Dreams for a kiwi farm are rekindled and the children are wishing the trip could stop here















ya don’t get more authentic than that!

so here they are after long last


who?

well the ayers bears a kiwi family of 8 kids mum dad



and grandpa



staying at the ranch

we will soon report a bit more in detail about this amazing family but you can also see yourself by visiting their blog at:

http://blogs.bootsnall.com/kiwifamily/

one of their kids even performed a sun down dance



birthday in mongolia

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

tessa

HELLO TO EVERYBODY

It's this time of the year again

Anak-Ranch takes pleasure to announce their new brochure for the year 2009

Our Price for this year has been set at 49.00 US $ all inclusive as seen on our website

HURRY PLACE IS FILLING FAST

WELL ISN'T THIS SOMETHING




BY HOSTEL BOOKERS: Riding out on a ranch with the nomads in Mongolia

Ride out on a ranch with the nomads of Mongolia. The Anak Ranch lies amongst the stark beauty of the wild Mongolian plains.

Guests staying here can sleep under the stars in a ‘Ger’, a semi-permanent tent and the traditional dwelling of choice for the Mongolian nomad. Prepare to become a true nomad as the wilderness becomes your home and the nomads are your guide. You’ll herd horses, sheep and cattle, make milk and cheese, and live off the fruits of your labour. You might even get the chance to deliver a baby animal, fish in the Orkhon River or ride through the heart of the steppes in search of a lost Buddhist monastery. Once night falls, settle around a campfire and learn to drink vodka ‘The Mongolian Way’ – ‘accepting a proffered glass with honor and blessing the land in the directions of the four winds’. Either way, it’ll get you pretty merry. Best of all, a portion the profits from the price of accommodation, meals and horse-riding go towards improving conditions at the largest prison in Mongolia, so it’s really a holiday with a heart.
By Hostel Bookers | Photo: Hostel Bookers

enjoy the rewards



how to eat it?
let someone help you



what to do with a pig head?

well you eat it

just having a trial run to see if it works

http://www.drivetomongolia.org/photos/index.php?event=18%20Mongolia/06%20Ulaanbaatar/Martin

we finally getting round to start a long overdue update
so linus where are your notes?





keep trying something will come out hehehe





thats right the white stuff is what we wanted "you got the job"

well some are taller than others

just when you think it's save to go back into the water

this is what some Russian's had probably in their mind

the earth quake in lake baikal was noticed as far as ulaanbaatar
here on the ranch we still had a strenght 3.5
so it get's you thinking if you had too much to drink the night before or was it really the earth shaking

http://earthquake.usgs.gov/eqcenter/shakemap/global/shake/2008wfac/

hi there to all our recent visitors

sorry for the lenghty delay in posting your pictures and experience
we will update the site pretty soon
cheers
from the anakranch

HostelBookers feature

We've been featured at HostelBookers.

"A yurt – the traditional home of the Mongolian nomad – is a sort of semi-permanent tent that shelters its residents from the country’s harsh winters.

"At Anak Ranch, you can stay in one of these truly unique structures: A perfect place from which to contemplate one of the world’s most starkly beautiful landscapes."

New Brochure

Brian

Brian spent some days at the ranch. He’s from the United States and Panama, and he lives in Japan. Riding the train, I told him how every day in Mongolia there is something new, even after years of living here. Then on Monday, we saw a few ducks on the river of a type I've never encountered before. The bodies and heads were orange, the necks and fronts of the wings were white, and the rears and tips of the wings and the tails were black. They had the body-shape and size of ducks, but they didn't sound quite like any duck I've heard before. These were accompanied by a couple ducks of drab brown coloring, presumably the females. Konchog, the American Buddhist monk in Ulaanbaatar who is also a birder, identified them from my description as Ruddy Shelducks, known in Mongolia as Lam Shuvuu: Lama Birds! I never suspected such a thing as orange waterfowl. The next day we rode to the ger-stead of Radnaa, Tseren’s older brother, up on the ridge to the northeast, where I’d never been before. That morning, Saraa had mentioned something to me about an accordion, the first time I had ever heard anything about an accordion. The lady who met us in the ger had four accordions, and she is a master accordion player. She played Mongolian and Russian songs on the accordions and on a guitar while she cooked. Every day, something new.

Brian’s sister wrote a book of stories about Panama: ChristinaHenriquez.com

-Radigan

Amar sain uu?

We are here, and busy. Over the winter, I wrote a book. We were up at the ranch this weekend. Had a great sauna and a great nap afterwards. Martin and Minjee's ger is noticeably larger since re-setting it last autumn, and they've hung new carpets on the walls inside.

-Radigan

Danielle

Danielle came up to the ranch on Saturday night. Having just spent two years in Tanzania with the Peace Corps, she is taking the long way back to the States, from Beijing by train to Europe.

Danielle, Eggi, Mongon, Jonathan, and I went on a long ride on Sunday.

Sunday night, a lama performed a ceremony for auspiciousness in Martin and Minjee's ger, and then again in Tseren and Saraa's ger.

On Monday, Daka from Ulaanbaatar and her friend Erna from Switzerland arrived by Russian van on the first day of their three-week trip through northern Mongolia. Daka, Danielle, and I enjoyed the sauna Monday night.

-Radigan

ger

Over the weekend, a new top, sticks, and felt were put up for Martin and Minjee's ger.

Mack's Travel Blog Entry

"Horse riding in the steppes

"***** This place was Amazing

"I spent 3 days in Anak Ranch in Orkhon, that was fantastic stay. Very friendly ppl, horse riding most of the time. We also tried to fish (didn't catch anything) and went for a trek up the highest peak.

"I really enjoyed my time there."

-Mack, from Canada

Michelle's Email

Email message from Michelle:

Hey out there!

It's been a long time coming but a huge Hi from the shores of England from Michelle. Hope you haven't forgotten me yet - I came out with Emma at the start of August, had a blast, and now am back in my reality with mixed thoughts and emotions! Just wanted to say thanks for putting us up and giving us a chance to feel part of 'real' Mongolia. As I have figured from reading your webpages it's happened to myself like many others before and no doubt after, that the ranch has crawled its way under my skin. It's great to have the memories now I'm back in the hustle and madness of teaching and life back here. You guys were such fun and thankfully didn't laugh toooo hard at my random attempts to ride those horses! If or WHEN I return I'll be ready to hit the plains and head off into the wilderness for an adventure under the stars. I can't think of anything better.

But my night spent out on my adopted platform tower star gazing, watching the trains roll by and the sun light up the morning, as well as trying to remember not to roll off the edge after the wine and that honey beer was one of the soul lifting nights of my whole trip.

Have often wondered about the wolf cub - have you had to release it to the wilds yet? I guess it won't be long - I saw those teeth! I have some great pictures and feel really privileged to have had the chance to hang out with one of the most mesmorising species on this planet.

So what plans are afoot for the autumn? Are the nights getting cold? Let me know when you get the first snow and definitely post up some pictures - it's not going to take much to get me jumping back on the plane. I guess you'll all be enjoying the sauna this winter!

Well please say thanks to everyone, send me one of the cats and some wine in a plain box via customs and who knows - I hope we will meet again :-)

-Michelle

Nagisa's Travel Blog Entry

"We went horseriding (the views were just so surreal), hand milked cows, made cheese, helped tuya round up the cattle (horseback!) from the unfenced land surrounding the small village at 9.30pm when it was only just starting to get dark."

Read Nagisa's entry in her travel blog

Party

About 20 people who live in Ulaanbaatar came up to the ranch over the weekend. Daniel, of Millie's Cafe, caught a fish for the first time in Mongolia. Jonathan also caught a fishhook in his cheek, but Martin removed it.

* * *

View Eric's photos

View photos of the party

Puck

Puck, from the Netherlands, came to the ranch last week. A goat and a sheep were slaughtered during her visit.

Michelle and Emma

Michelle and Emma, from the UK, spent four days at the ranch and got to experience the new barbeque plate as well as the new raised platform over the entrance of the corral. Michelle slept on the platform in the cool night air.

* * *

View photos of the ranch while Michelle and Emma visited

Udi and Noga

Udi and Noga, from Israel, came to the ranch and spent several days. With Mongon and Jonathan, they went riding north to the Russian border.

Sasha and Robin

Robin and Sasha, from the UK by way of Japan, stayed at the ranch for a day on their way through on the Trans-Mongolian Railroad from Beijing to Moscow, and I also subjected them to the charm of my Soviet-era apartment in Ulaanbaatar.

I showed them how to eat grass. First pull out the upper portion of the stalk, and you can then eat the white, sweet, tender base of this portion. It is possible to pull tall grasses as you are riding horse, and so you can be eating the same thing as the horse while you are riding.

-Radigan

* * *

View photos of the ranch on the day Robin and Sasha visited

Nagisa

Nagisa, from Sydney, came to the ranch on Friday.

On the train ride up, we got into a cabin with a Buryat family from Russia who had been visiting Ulaanbaatar. They started eating sausage and fat and bread and drinking vodka, and cheerfully forced us to join them, in that familiar Russian way. "Eat, eat!" the old women said. "Drink, drink!" We did.

It turned out the older son was a veterinarian, a happy coincidence, as Nagisa is a veterinary student. This, of course, deserved toasting. Also deserving of toasting was acquaintanceship, Lenin, and travel.

-Radigan

* * *

View Nagisa's photos at the ranch - I

View Nagisa's photos at the ranch - II

Lasse and Lotte

Lasse and Lotte, from Denmark, came up to the ranch Monday to stay for most of the week and did some fishing and other things.

* * *

View photos of Lasse and Lotte at the Orkhon River

Rain on the Mountain

This year has been unusually rainy.

I climbed to the top of the peak northeast of the ranch while the top was shrouded in clouds.

-Radigan

* * *

View photos of Rain on the Mountain

wolf

Martin got an orphaned wolf cub from one of his clients, a Mongolian zoologist. A wolf expert, she has been to the States many times, as the Americans are reintroducing wolves into their national parks.

Elise's Poem

While out riding, we got threatened by a thunderstorm that rolled up from the south, and we raced its lightning flashes back to the ranch. Elise penned some free verse:

The slow motion of an infinite second
In between flying and hoofbeats
The ground below a miraculous green
The sky above gravid with ravenous clouds
Cold wind and rain on my face
I looked around, and there were mountains enveloping me
Tiny flowers embracing me,
Lightning driving me onward.
And the world moved again
Faster than I've ever known
On the back of a galloping horse
Riding the plains
Of Mongolia.

Elise

Elise, from California, came up to the ranch on Thursday and rode horses and milked cows and ate mutton and drank Altai and spouted exclamations (“It’s so beautiful out here!”, “This is like a movie!”) and very regretfully left on Saturday.

Quote-of-the-Week: 2006 June 12-18

"This stuff is better than orange juice."

-Marc, from New York, referring to drinking Altai (Mongolian berry wine) with breakfast

David and Craig

Craig and David, from the Gold Coast of Australia, came up to the ranch Monday night.

On the train ride up, I broke out a bottle of Altai early. As we were sitting in the cabin with the door open, a pair of train cops passed by a couple times, staring at the bottle. We joked that they must want a drink. Then they came to the door and asked for passports. I stood up and went to the door and handed them my passport, then they walked away down the corridor, waving at me, and I followed them to their cabin at the end of the carriage.

We sat down. I asked if they spoke English or Russian, and they said they knew only a few words of each, so we talked in Mongolian. They asked questions about who I was and who the other guys were and where we were going. I was sincerely congenial, because I live in Mongolia and so it is easy to be happy, and I mentioned the rain outside and how there had been a lot of rain this spring. I asked them where they were from and how long they’d worked on the train. I still didn’t know what the problem was, or if there even was a problem. Maybe they were just curious, I thought.

Then the one guy said that drinking, as well as smoking, are not allowed on the train. I was sincerely surprised, because I had drank on that train nearly every time I had ridden it. But I quickly realized that I probably shouldn’t be surprised. And I realized where all this was headed.

I had the thought then that no smoking and no drinking is actually good policy. I also then thought of the couple occasions I had encountered drunk people on the train, but knew that it would not be helpful to mention that. Instead, I said that I hadn’t known that drinking was not allowed, and that it was only one bottle, and that those Australians were good guys, and that no one was drunk, and that we would never drink on the train again. They said that there needed to be a fine. I made like I didn’t understand, and reiterated my protests. They said that the fine was 5,000 togrog. I kept rambling, in my ridiculous broken Mongolian. The one guy pulled out his ticket book and showed it to me. It was printed in both Mongolian and English, and printed on it was the sum of 500 togrog. The second guy looked like he was bored and left the cabin. The first guy then said that if I didn’t pay, he would keep my passport. I said that it’s my passport, and I need it. He smiled a rather sickening grin and said that the fine was 5,000 togrog. I said again, calmly, that it is my passport. He put my passport into the breast pocket of his jacket and buttoned down the pocket flap.

I said, “It’s my passport.”

He said, “5,000 togrog.”

I started to say again that I didn’t understand, that no one was causing any trouble, that the Aussies are good people, but in the middle of that he produced his badge and held it right up to my face.

“Do you see that?” he said.

I said, “Yes.”

“Do you know what that is?” he said.

I said, “I understand, but that is my passport,” and I pointed at his breast pocket.

He put his badge away and looked out the window. I said then that I had a copy of my passport, and he could have that. I searched in my pocket for my folded photocopy, which I always carry with me specifically for the purpose of giving to cops when they ask for a passport, and I cursed myself in my head for ever letting him get his hands on my real passport. I found my copy and unfolded it and offered it to him. He stood and walked to the door of the cabin, not looking at me. After a moment, he turned to me, pulled out my passport, handed it to me, and said, “Here. Go.”

It was very difficult not to smile then, but I succeeded, and never let the confusion pass from my face. I said to him that we had bread and sausage and onions in our cabin, and that he and his partner should come down and join us. He said that we should come to his cabin. I went out the door as the second cop came in, smiling.

Back in our cabin, I related the incident to David and Craig in as somber a tone of voice as I could muster, not wanting to sound my triumphant elation, which might reach the ears of the cops, offend them, and bring them back with a vengeance. I cut a couple hunks of bread and sausage and onion, and took it down to the cops later. The second one was already asleep, and the first one, who was reading a newspaper, simply accepted the food and set it on their table.

* * *

Had very enjoyable conversation with David and Craig on the train. Of the most interesting parts were some of Craig’s stories of working in security, providing personal security for singers and celebrities in Australia, such as the Spice Girls and Kylie Minogue. He said that his and the other security personnel’s favorite—the nicest, friendliest guy—was Michael Jackson.

He said that first thing, Mr. Jackson asked everybody’s names and a bit about their lives, whether they were married, and so on, and that from then on he remembered their names and who they were.

When Jackson was there, he was, you know, wearing the surgical mask. But after a couple of days of being with him 24 hours a day, they eventually asked him, “So… what’s the deal with the mask?”

And he replied that thousands of people come to his concerts for his voice. One time, he got a throat infection, and had to cancel much of a tour, disappointing thousands of people and affecting thousands more who work to arrange the hotels and concert venues and so on. He said so much hinges on his voice, so many people are affected by what happens to his voice, that he has to take care of it, that it is too much of a risk to get a throat infection.

Which, we agreed, when explained that way, is understandable and even admirable.

Craig also said that Mr. Jackson spent a lot of his time in his hotel room playing PlayStation. When Mr. Jackson complained that no one plays with him, Craig called in a second shift and spent a few hours playing PlayStation with Michael Jackson.

Craig summarized that Jackson seemed like just a big kid, that he’d never grown up, that he wasn’t an adult like other adults are, and that that is maybe why they enjoyed doing security for him so much, because it was very much like babysitting.

* * *

After the horse ride from the train station at 3 a.m., we sat up in the ger for a while. David remarked that the unfamiliar stars of the Northern Hemisphere add a dimension of exoticism for them to Mongolia and to China, where they had just come from. We stepped outside and I pointed out the Big Dipper, how it points to the North Star, and Cassiopeia. I couldn’t find Orion’s Belt, however.

I asked if there was an equivalent of the North Star in the Southern Hemisphere, and Craig replied, with a blank face, “The Southern Cross.” I was then inwardly shocked at the foolishness of my question, nearly as shocked as I had earlier been at the foolishness of relinquishing my passport to a shifty cop.

-Radigan

* * *

View photos of the ranch on the day David and Craig arrived

Bernard

Bernard (of the world-famous Chez Bernard cafe in downtown Ulaanbaatar), our Belgian friend and longtime fixture in Mongolia, came up to the ranch over the weekend and enjoyed the new sauna.

* * *

Chez Bernard, Ulaanbaatar

Katrin and Adam

Adam, from Canada, and Katrin, from Germany, came up to the ranch on Wednesday night.

On the train ride up, we talked about Mongolian customs. I mentioned the important ones, such as always offering and accepting something with either your right hand or both hands, but never with the left hand. Katrin said that in her German guidebook, it was written that one should not get out of bed in the morning until after the woman of the ger has risen, because she likes to have coffee or tea brewing and other things prepared before the rest of the ger gets up. I had never heard that, but when I thought about it, I realized that Minjee was, in fact, always the first to rise in their ger. However, I assumed this could be largely attributed to Martin’s and my habit of drinking and staying up late the night before. Katrin’s comment also reminded me of Dan’s “Where’s my breakfast?” line.

Mongon met us at the train station with horses. Soon after riding out from the station, Adam’s horse bucked him several times. I told him, “Don’t worry: if you fall off . . . get back on.”

The next morning, we drank milk tea and sat a spell talking with Saraa. Katrin grew up in East Germany, and Saraa is familiar with her hometown. Saraa and Tseren had traveled to East Germany while they were national athletes for Mongolia during the Soviet period. Saraa offered to take them into Orkhon the next day, show them the features of the little town, and introduce them to the mayor.

Later, Katrin, Adam, and I went for a ride through the grazing land north of the ranch. Halfway out, the horses got willful and tried to gallop back home. I gave some riding tips, and we pushed on. Thereafter, they kept impressive control of their horses, especially Katrin. We rode to where the Orkhon River bounds the northern edge of the grazing land; we rode through the brush along the river, and then I showed them the tunnel under the railroad tracks, which one must pass through to head up to the ridge.

That evening, in the ger, we sat around with Sun-Hee and Jonathan, talking and drinking Altai. Jonathan is Martin’s son, who grew up in Melbourne, Australia, and Sun-Hee is Jonathan’s girlfriend. Sun-Hee is from Seoul, South Korea.

For some years, Adam and Katrin had each been studying and alternately living in Germany and Canada. Adam is from Edmonton.

I said that I grew up in North Dakota and had spent time in Calgary and that I really like Canada. “It’s like California, but colder.”

Adam asked me if “treeplanter” meant anything to me. I thought to myself that all “treeplanter” means to me is simply a person who plants trees. Since I was certain that Adam was referring to something more specific than that, I said, “No. What’s a treeplanter?”

Adam said, “It’s a person who plants trees.”

After I had stopped laughing, both Adam and Katrin explained that there is a treeplanter culture in Canada. Logging companies are required to replant each tree that they cut, so they employ people to live in camps in the forest and plant hundreds of seedlings per day through the summer. “There is a perception that treeplanters are a bunch of hippies running around in the woods. And that’s generally what they are,” Katrin said.

Tseren came in and said hellos. He sat at the table, near to the stove, and put a kettle of airag on the stove.

He then produced his tobacco bottle and passed it to each of us. We each took sniffs from the bottle and passed it back.

With the airag heated, he poured out a bowl and passed it to Adam. Adam drank it and passed it back. Then, in turn, we each accepted and drank a bowl of airag.

This continued for many rounds over the next hour or two, eventually prompting Jonathan to proclaim that Tseren has some kind of magical bottomless kettle of airag.

Tseren threw some airag at the roof of the ger, in offering to the Blue Sky. He gave a lengthy speech of welcome and about the state of the ranch, which I did my best to translate.

At one point, Tseren sang an Italian operatic song, which sounded Mongolian. He then passed the bowl around again and insisted that everyone sing before drinking. Adam sang “O Canada.” Katrin sang a German song, the tune of which I recognized. I sang “Sixteen Ton.” Jonathan wimped out, claiming that he was doing us a service by sparing us from his singing. Sun-Hee sang a Korean lullaby.

We then enjoyed a nice Korean meal that Sun-Hee had cooked, along with excellent Mongolian buuz.

Adam and Katrin were looking forward to partaking in the milking. I left to go back to UB on the train that night. Martin and Minjee came up the next afternoon. Katrin and Adam stayed at the ranch for two more days. On Saturday, they took the long horse ride up over the northern ridge and down into the valley on the far side.

-Radigan

Dan

Dan, my friend from California, came up to the ranch Friday night and stayed for two days.

The first day, he, Jonathan, and I took a long horse ride to the north. The four dogs from the ranch came along, and this provided us some additional activity in the form of keeping the dogs from chasing the grazing cattle and horses that we encountered.

It was a very good ride, including great views, a steep descent, some interesting terrain, and several good gallops. We met one old herder with a flock of sheep on top of the ridge, and I talked with him a bit. He was from Orkhon.

In the last leg of the ride, when we were almost home, Jonathan and Dan began complaining about their sore butts. I later reported to Martin that one was “winging” (because he’s Australian), and the other was “whining” (because he’s American).

That was the second time in his life that Dan had ever been on a horse. The first was the night before, after we had arrived on the train and Mongon and Martin had met us at the station with mounts to ride back to the ranch.

Dan came into Martin and Minjee’s ger in the morning while we were still sleeping and said, “Where’s my breakfast?” Later, we attested that “Get it yourself!” is the only appropriate response to such a question.

Dan really enjoyed playing with Zaya. The rest of us concurred that he was probably going to go home and get his wife pregnant.

-Radigan

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email message from Dan to friends:

Hi,

I've now been in Mongolia for five days. It's Monday morning here in Ulaanbaatar; our train back from the ranch dropped us here at about 7AM, and I'm going to finally attempt to write something interesting for you.

I'm starting to figure out Radigan's definition of "ecstasy." I think it involves a tremendous degree of personal freedom, horses, and a dawning realization that we're not as weak as we're taught to believe we are. For example: our train up on Friday evening arrived at Orkhon at 3 in the morning, and the means of transportation from the station to the ranch was horse. Never having ridden a horse before, the instructions given to me were: "get on."

The horse was led by Martin, a man I can't begin to describe in this format, but suffice it to say he's a good guy. So in fact I didn't really need to know anything. But the next day, when we took the horses out after lunch, the instructions given to me -- this time without anybody leading -- were still "get on." It turns out, that's pretty much all you need to know about riding a horse.

It was a beautiful ride. From the ranch, three of us rode across the steppe a short way to the thawing Orkhon river... up a hill, yielding beautiful panoramic views of the landscape which I took no pictures of whatsoever... down the other side, through a frozen bog, then along the train tracks coming back... On the way we saw sheep, cows, wild horses... The dogs that followed us from the ranch kept trying to play games with the livestock we passed by. It was a long ride, at least for my first ride. The GPS showed us being a bit over four miles away as the crow flies, at what I think was our furthest point away from the ranch, but I figure we actually rode over ten miles in total, across what would have been very taxing terrain for a person to hike. Anyway, the point is: there I was, on my own horse, literally galloping across the steppe in Outer Mongolia.

Ass, legs and lower back were pretty sore after that, so I spent all of Sunday taking photos around the ranch and relaxing.

Alcohol has also played a role here. I've had my share of Altai, a drink made with some kind of berry. We also broke out the baijou I picked up in Beijing, but after maybe half a shot each, it was determined to be undrinkable.

-Dan

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View Dan's photos at the ranch

Quote-of-the-Week: 2005 December 19-25

"It works. I burned myself."

-Martin, about the new barn heating system

Quote-of-the-Week: 2005 December 12-18

"It will definitely work maybe."

-Radigan, about the new barn heating system

Quote-of-the-Week: 2005 November 28 - December 4

"It's been warm this year."

-everyone, about the weather

Quote-of-the-Week: 2005 November 21-27

“I don’t want to haul a boiler on a horse.”

-Martin, saying that because he was taking the new boiler up to the ranch this week, he would take a car from Ulaanbaatar instead of the train, because taking the train would entail riding a horse from the train station in Orkhon to the ranch

Quote-of-the-Week: 2005 November 14-20

"You guys fell down a lot."

-Bulgan, referring to the afternoon of roping and branding horses