The Thrill of the Chase

I recently learned a very valuable lesson about life in the Mongolian countryside.

It was the last day of English Language Vacuum Training #2 (see previous Vacuum Training #1 blog entry if unfamiliar) and my PCV cohort, Brody, and I decided to go on a hike with the participants. Well, the teachers (as many Mongolians do) preferred to stroll out a bit, find a nice spot, sit down and relax with a little alcohol and some food. Brody and I, however, were up for a little more challenge. So, with our summit looking right at us in the distance, he and I went on ahead.

We were having a good time, talking about previous hikes we'd been on. We were making good time. We went quite a ways away from the others, making our way down a deep gully, then up again and then across a wide valley and onto a worn path to the top of a ridge. At the base of the ridge, on the other side, I honed in on two things: the base of the mountain where we would begin our ascent and a pretty well-developed ger and hashaa. Brody turned the other direction to gaze out on where we had come from and to see where the other teachers had stopped on the distant, first tall hill we'd crossed 45 minutes before. I was about to go for my camera when I saw imminent danger.

"Hey, Brody, turn around for second. Look down there."

"What?"

"Those dogs are coming for us...and fast!"

"Oh, sh*@!"

With the speed of a Mongol horde, 4 large dogs were racing from the hashaa, across the valley and up the ridge we had been standing on. Immediately Brody and I took off running. We could see that we could not match their speed and that within seconds they would be on top of us. We were running for our lives, frantically looking for sticks and rocks. There weren't any. We continually looked back to check their progress. We braced ourselves for the worst.

In the time that we ran 50 yards, the dogs had probably covered a distance of about 400 yards. They were big, fast and had a single thought on their minds: attack.

As we fled down the long ridge slope we continually looked at each other with equal dread fear and inextinguishable excitement. There are few times in my life when I thought I was going to die. This was one of them.

Just as we discovered a few frail sticks we noticed that the herder, riding on his horse, had topped the ridge. He'd called off the hunt.

Now safe, Brody and I could not help but laugh at our good fortune. How close we had come. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was even...fun?

Whatever it was, it was intense and it has opened my eyes to how life really is on the steppe.