Tree Rings, Ecology and Culture in Mongolia

Bayrbaatar & Amy the day before our fateful discovery

Amy Hessl is featured on National Geographic radio about our team’s discovery of ancient deadwood that suggests the rise of Chinggis Khaan was associated with increased rainfall. Listen to learn more.

an ancient Siberian pine

By Neil Pederson

As discussed in the previous post, the first half of the field season would be the scientific highlight of the 2011 field season. While we had highlights later on, in terms of finding new stuff, that was it. We knew that would be a highlight because we had a fairly good idea of what was coming next. To our delight, we would be heading back to the small mountain village called Bugant. This is a delight because the family we stay with on trips to the northwestern Khentii Moutains are exemplary in terms of Mongolian generosity.

We knew that we would immediately not only be served fresh tea and plenty of candies and snacks upon our arrival, we also knew that no matter what time ae arrived we would be served a meal. We arrived at about 9 pm and, sure enough, by 9:45 we were fully into our meal.

As always, it was a fun and spirited meal. All the extended family came to visit with us and each other:

We looked forward to the next day’s field work because we were going to one of the most interesting forests we’ve seen in Mongolia – it was an intact, old-growth forest….

the OG forest at high elevation in the northwestern Khentii Mountains

However, not all scientific fieldwork is full of exploration and discovery like those fueled by sawdust and mosquito wings. Sometimes, quite often actually, scientific research is monotonous. Even in the field. The work ahead, while in beautiful places, was akin to making the doughnuts. We had to go back to areas we had sampled before, install plots and just core whatever trees fall in those plots. There would be no bird-dogging or seeking out great old trees. What fell in our plots, randomly-located so that they best represented the average forest, ended up being our study trees. Ah, we are not complaining. It is just not as thrilling as the hunt. It feels almost industrial – industrial ecology.

We were a bit leery of this forest as well. When we last sampled in 2009, it turned out to be a cold and wet visit. 2011 turned out to be very much the same. In fact, it turned out to be wetter and colder. It definitely had us shivering in our sleeping bags.

We had expected to complete our work in the first day at the site pictured above. But, after a couple passing showers that were fairly heavy for Mongolia, the temperatures dropped quickly and, well, we started getting cold. We were prepared for this, but somehow this day got to us. We really started shivering and making mistakes. When you start making mistakes when you are cold and wet, that is a good sign to call things off. Not much good can come from continuing. What one can expect is potentially bad data, more mistakes and more mistakes that could become dangerous. So, we called it a day and went fishing.

OK, Baljaa went fishing. Specifically, he went wood fishing. It is a method commonly used to gather firewood in areas with little wood. As you can see, Baljaa, despite being a Mongolian cowboy with more than a hundred horses [he's a good catch, ladies!], struck out. Time to call in the pro:

As you can see, Baatarbileg is still the master!

What did we cook with this wood? Our clothes, of course:

cooking clothes

Actually, the fire and wonderful soup for dinner warmed us up. I do not think the devil actually shivered in his sleeping bag.

The next day turned out to be sunny and we finished off this site. We did get one new discovery: a Mongolian lizard. It got so used to being held, or perhaps it was so hungry from the previous cool, wet day, it itself ‘fished’ for food while being held:

The next day found us heading back to the ‘cement patio’ site. This is a favorite site for us as we had a wonderful Mongolian cookout in 2009. What we had forgotten was how far back we had driven into the Khentii Mountains to find this site.

Talk about monotonous [and desperate...like the beginning of 2011, we were desperate in 2009 to find a goldmine site], we drove 20 km on the road below just to find this site. You can hear below how we had forgotten how far back we drove in 2009.

We hit the slopes as soon as we re-discovered the cement patio; it took about 3 hrs of driving to get to this spot. I had not been up this slope yet as I sampled a different slope in 2009. When Amy said it was steep, I really didn’t know what she meant. As you can see, the slope was nearly a 40% slope:

the footing was tough

While in the midst of conducting this industrial ecology, the sky decided to open up again. However, the storm didn’t seem as serious as the prior day and we hunkered down for about 20 minutes. Sure enough, the storm passed as we completed most of our work at this site.

The views from this site are pretty spectacular.

Bugant forest landscape

Indeed, it is such a special forest that we will have a special post regarding the state and potential future of this part of the Khentii Mountains.

We headed down the mountain back to the patio and found an incredible patch of berries. There were two types of currants and one type of blueberry. It was delicious. In fact, as it was Chuka’s birthday (our other driver in 2009 and 2011), we gathered as much fruit as possible and re-created our 2009 cook out night to celebrate Chuka. It was a fantastic night until yet another thunderstorm crashed the party and sent us scurrying for the tents. All in all, it was a pretty great night.

There is not too much to report for now about this site. It is definitely another old-growth site that Amy has already written about. We saw some amazing specimens for the main conifer species in Bugant and hiked some cool ridges. We saw wolf and bear scat. We were lucky to spend time in that exceptional Mongolian Wilderness. Here are a couple more pictures.

the gang, Bayaraa, Amy and Baljaa, in a wonderful birch forest

Baljaa, proud of his effort and work (as he should be) and happy to be in the Khentii Wilderness

more of that Bugant birch forest - note the wonderful Nars (Scots pine) to the right

We’ve realized that we have yet to document a bit of our day-to-day lives in the field. Below are some scenes from the valley we nick-named  ’Xanadu’ (before we knew it’s proper name). We learned from the man who uses the valley as his winter pasture that it is called ‘West River Valley’. It is definitely a happy valley.

The valley is narrow and natural. You can see below how limited access is to this valley, save horses.

the mountain pass into our little Xanadu

Below is one of the first views we got of the valley – it was a wonderful sight [and site!].

eastern portion of West River Valley

We settled into a patch of forest in the valley bottom. Can you spot our tarp hiding our belongings during the day?

in hiding

here is our camp site:

camp site and northern end of the valley

our kitchen:

not only is Bayaraa an A1 sawyer, he is a darn, good field chef. he instructed us in cooking

in actuality, this really was the Xanadu for the flies!

filed field pants, aka fly breakfast

here is a video of our happy camp site at night, in the Mongolian Wilderness

view to southern portion of our happy valley

southern area of the valley

valley landmark

By Neil Pederson

When embarking on research in Mongolia, though in all other situations, too, it is best to couch your disposition in two important mindsets: patience and persistence. Perhaps the best way to begin these journeys is to take on an almost Buddhistic mindset and not get too clingy to objects. It is best to let it come as it should. Of course it is easier to type that then to sit in a jeep for a few days and see nothing that warrants sampling like the below. Oh, it is beautiful, but not helpful for study.

birch forest

It seems like every sampling trip here in Mongolia begins like 2011 did: searching for a goldmine site, but finding little of research value. It has happened so often that I have finaly learned to sit back and have some kind of faith that the trees will appear. This mindset finally paid off during the first leg of our field season. In fact, it paid off so well that by the last day, it seems our bodies were running on sawdust and mosquito wings.

Intellicast.com suggested the field season would be cool, nicely cool. A colleague in Mongolia came back from the field and reported that it would be one of the worst field seasons in terms of insects. So, as Murphy’s Law sort of goes, both expectations trended in the opposite direction as we would like.

After spending about a day and a half of looking for good sites, we finally got a lead through a village elder for potentially old forests. Most of that conversation is recorded below:

Listen to his accent. Can you pick out the word davaa? How about nars? [nars = Scots pine, Pinus sylvestris; davaa = mountain pass]

This is why we should listen to our elders – in the end, they are often correct. The key phrase is “in the end” because as we drove up into the steep and narrow valley he suggested, again, all we saw was this:

beautiful, but not what we came looking for

Even the drive back down valley held little promise. Baatar had noticed some rocky slopes that might have something good. But, from our perspective, the trees didn’t look as old as we needed [we are constantly on the search for 300-400+ yr old trees so we can learn what the long-term trends and patterns are in climate and ecology]. We decided it was worth a look and shortly after beginning our hike, we found a decent pine with 5-7 fire scars, “ok, this seems ok”.

Bayaraa retrieving a sample from our first tree; note: no trees were killed in the collection of our samples. There is no evidence yet that plunge cuts change mortality rates...at least for 7 yrs.

We continued up the slope and found middle-aged trees (~150-200 yrs) with a few fire scars (4-6). It was fine, but not what we really hoped for.

We finally found a tree a little bit older and with 7+ fire scars. Like Pavlov’s dog, we started dreaming about rewards. We started racing upslope to find more of these trees. Along the way, we started noticing remnant wood – trees that likely died 50-100 yrs ago – that could help us extend our knowledge of fire history back to the 1700s, perhaps even the 1600s!

Having an extra crew member in Erdene, I became the bird-dog: “dog will hunt!” [for old, fire-scarred trees]

I went on ahead and started searching all slopes for old, fire-scarred trees. The slope and bedrock made the work fun. The heat, on the other hand, required rationing a bit on water. I finally treaded up a narrow ridge in hopes of finding more. While hiking this ‘knife-edge’, I kept coming back to the idea that I get paid to do this; I’m a lucky dog.

a knife edge

Perhaps the neatest thing I saw was a planking tree (you know this fad is really getting out of hand when a tree in northern Mongolia planks).

planking nars

Towards the upper end of the ridge I came upon a couple trees that looked pretty good. I didn’t fully inspect them as I had been ‘out’ for an hour and didn’t hear the chainsaw behind me. I was concerned that I had gone too far ahead. I circled back and found our crew hunched over the saw where I left them an hour earlier. Seems some bad gas hampered the saw and Bayaraa and Erdene were on their way to becoming chainsaw technicians of the first order. They finally got the saw fired up after another 25 minutes and we headed upslope to collect a couple of samples from stumps near the false-peak.

Bayaraa retrieving a sample from the false-peak stump

It was now getting late in the day. I was sunburnt, it was hot, we were running low on water and food. Spirits had plunged a bit following the Chainsaw Repair Hour.

"ah! we are getting nowhere!"

I showed Amy the two trees I had spotted on my camera’s small screen and mentioned they were a bit upslope. Our samples were not great at that point and the general feeling was that we should go for it.

We decided to walk halfway there, combine our food and have a small late-afternoon snack (bread, peanut butter, sardines, an apple and some water [but not all of it!]). The energy intake seemed to do the trick. Spirits came up as we walked the knife-edge.

Then, upon closer inspection, we knew that our patience and persistence paid off. Amy was the first to rush over.

"gold!"

And, why not rush? This site finally turned into the Goldmine we were looking for.

indeed, it is a goldmine

We quickly went to work scouring this little pocket of Mongolia for all that it might contain. Bayaraa went to work, retrieved some fine samples and showed off the A1 Sawyer that he is these days.

the rich vein of golden fire scars

Again, no trees were killed in the collection of these samples.

Upon further inspection…

...... scars bain uu?

Yup….

Yes! Gold!! Scars bain aa!!!

Everyone was thrilled. It was time to celebrate hardwork.

The lessons on topographic location, aspect, landform and a few tree characteristics paid off over the next few days as we located the Three Amigos and a Field of Onions.

———–

 The next day we headed across  the valley and found more of the same. Younger, few scars lower on the slope, a goldmine of older trees and multiple-scarred trees further up slope. Probably the best thing from that day, beyond the other goldmine, were the valley views. The most surprising things were the pivot irrigation fields. The resurgence of the Mongolian agricultural industry has been impressive, as was indicted towards the end of this post from 2010. The presence of pivot irrigation confirms Mongolia’s commitment for food independence.

Selenge Valley, Pivot Irrigation Fields

Us on South Goldmine Peak

What drew us out of this goldmine was a peak to the east. It looked rugged and remote. We had high hopes for our next area of study.

We decided to head there immediately as day was falling. It took longer than expected and was nearly dark when we arrived in the new valley. It was indeed isolated and the grasses were tall, suggesting the valley was not heavily used. It was so nice that we jokingly called it Xanadu. We later learned this was someone’s Xanadu. A herdsmen stopped by our camp, we immediately gave him some tea. He was looking for his small herd of horses and told us this was his winter pasture, so it was his personal winter capitol. It must be lovely in the winter.

Xanadu entrance

Of course, the joke was on us. As we finished putting up our tents, the mosquito horde came out. We layered and wrapped ourselves; our source was correct – this was about the worst mosquito season I have experienced in Mongolia. We dashed into our tents soon after dark.

This part of the post will be interrupted to convey the specialness of night in the Wilderness of Mongolia. The only light in the valley was the temporary lamp in the tent next door.

light, no light

Here is what it sounded like:

During the middle of the night, the mosquitoes were gone and the Milky Way was out!

The next day we went for the rugged peak across the valley. It was getting hot and the initial forest didn’t look so old. But, we found some nice remnant pieces that should lengthen our record.

Bayaraa sawing remnant wood

There was so much material, I got into the sawing act.

more remnant material

We stopped on a saddle around midday for lunch before shooting to the looming and rugged ridge ahead. What do we do for lunch in the wilds of Mongolia? Here is one example.

It was in the forest beyond the saddle where ideas/hypotheses of forest development in this part of Mongolia started bubbling up. Instead of working in young or burnt-over forest, we hit a pocket of ‘old-growth’ forest containing a pine with a 20-30′ fire scar and 12+ scars. It was sitting next to a forest of mixed species and ages. It was a lovely site.

old-growth and mixed forests

We headed across the minor valley in pursuit of the marvelous looking pines across the way (below).

opposing goldmine slope

The area, again, was a goldmine. However, at this point, we had a nice collection of fire-scar samples. So, we went snobbish and decided to collect from the oldest, most scarred trees.

The slope we scrambled up was barren from the last fire and southwest facing. We later learned it hit 93 degrees F around the time we hiked up the open slope. We could feel it. We were on fumes. Even Bayaraa.

Again, efforts were rewarded when we hit The Three Amigos.

The Three Amigos

This trio of trees really made us happy! They were just what we have been looking for. I’ve not really seen these kinds of scars before, so I exclaimed, “OMG! It’s an onion!”

"it's an onion!"

Close-up: The Three Amigos

We retrieved our samples and relaxed for a bit. But, not for long. As we looked out over the valley, we saw and then heard the signs that we should get off the mountain quick.

thunderhead looming

As we were headed back to our camp, we saw the sky literally open up over the village of Hyagalant.

there's a hole in the sky over Hyagalant!

This storm, actually, turned out to be a benefit. Erdene’s mother was very concerned for our safety; she didn’t know it rained worse in the village than in our little piece of Xanadu. So, the next morning she scolded Baatar enough to come pick us up early. That was fortunate because we went to another ridge that morning (after meeting the herdsman and waiting out a storm). It turned out to be a complete bust. Baatar’s early arrival allowed us to drive to another ridge that would have taken too long to walk to.

ridge above the field of onions. can you spot Erdene, Bayaraa & Amy?

What I found soon after taking the picture above was thrilling. In fact, it was the scene below where I yelled, “Field of Onions!”

"field of onions!"

The pictures below ought to explain the term ‘onion’.

see the onion? the ridges on the base of this tree are fire scars. we estimate that this tree has recorded ~12 fires

once you start learning these patterns, they become a thing of beauty

This last day, the day in the Field of Onions, was likely the scientific highpoint of our 2011 field season. We found a high concentration of trees with multiple scars in a new region and the trees are of decent age. The climbing that day was fun, too. But, the battles with the mosquitos and heat left us on fumes. I am pretty sure we were only running on sawdust and mosquito wings [and, sure, some adrenaline].

We’ll top this long post off with a few more pictures.

back up sawyer

our little piece of Xanadu

pan of the South Goldmine Peak

By Cari Leland

I wish I could calculate the total amount of English Breakfast tea I consumed over the past year. While working on my thesis, tea drinking was an integral part of the process. There is something about that piping hot beverage that inspires thought, creativity, focus, and hard work. Mongolians might also agree that there is great value in tea. In fact, teatime could almost be considered part of their cultural heritage. No meal is complete without a steamy cup of milk tea – a drink that is not only nutritious, but also a symbol of the warm hospitality that is prevalent in Mongolian culture.

Honestly, I was not much of a tea drinker prior to my summer of fieldwork in Mongolia. I remember one day of fieldwork when Dr. Baatarbileg Nachin, Byamba, Bayra, and I were on the hunt for old trees. Baatar drove us to a ger owned by some folks that he knew well. The hope was that they could show us the way to good sampling sites. The family greeted us with much warmth, as they kindly offered us yogurt biscuits and milk tea. I sat inside the ger –  young children were playing outside, the livestock were grazing happily in the sun, and a partially-logged forest was viewable in the distance. While sipping milk tea in their home, it became abundantly clear why my thesis research could be important.

A significant portion of Mongolia’s economy is based upon the agricultural and livestock sectors (more than a third of their GDP, in fact), and herding, in particular, is an important part of their cultural identity. Therefore, there is concern over how climate change might impact the livelihood of Mongolians. Could the impacts vary spatially? More importantly, how has climate varied spatially over time? Temperatures have generally been increasing over the past few decades, but recent precipitation trends have varied across the country. Precipitation, in general, is a highly ‘local’ phenomenon that varies significantly across the Mongolian landscape. The lack of long-term instrumental records limits our ability to quantify spatial and temporal climatic variability in Mongolia. That’s when tree rings become useful. Annual growth rings allow us to better understand historical variability in climate, and to place recent climate trends in the context of the past several centuries.

The goal of my master’s thesis was to assess hydroclimatic variability across north-central Mongolia using a large network of tree-ring data. Since precipitation is so spatially variable across the country, my goal was to determine if tree-ring data could be used to define hydroclimatic regions (or regions with unique, historical moisture variability). The network consisted of 21 tree-ring sites and three different species (P. sibirica, P. sylvestris, L. sibirica) (see the map below, Fig. 1). Each study site consisted of multiple trees from which core samples were collected. Some of the data were collected over the past two field seasons, while other sites were sampled in the 1990s and early 2000s through the Mongolian American Tree-ring Project (MATRIP). MATRIP is a research collaboration between Mongolian scientists and researchers from Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory, and their work made my thesis possible.

Fig 1. Map of tree-ring sites. The light gray represents forest cover. LASI = L. sibirica; PISI = P.sibirica; PISY = P. sylvestris.

To keep it short and sweet, I will only discuss some of my most interesting findings. After using a rotated principal component analysis (RPCA), and other crazy statistics, on the network of tree-ring data, I found 4 unique ‘regions’ within the network (Fig.2 ). Cleverly, I called them the Eastern, Western, Northern and Central regions. These regions are outlined in red in the figure below, where large circles represent the tree-ring sites that have similar growth patterns over time. After more statistical analyses, it was apparent that these regions likely represent ‘hydroclimatic regions’. As you can see, each region has its own, distinct variability in hydroclimate over time (Fig.3).

Fig. 2. The four regions. Note that the OGH growth pattern most closely the growth pattern associated with the Central region.

Fig. 3. Growth patterns of each region; a positive PC score represents above-average growth, and a negative PC score represents below-average growth. Variability in growth is likely a reflection of hydroclimatic variability.

Next, I looked at major historical drought and pluvial events across the entire tree-ring network. Pluvials are extended periods of wet conditions – the opposite of droughts. In the next two figures (Figs. 4 and 5), blue colors indicate generally wet conditions, whereas red indicates dry conditions. Figure 4 shows the major drought event associated with each region. Here, it’s obvious that the Eastern and Western regions of the tree-ring network will often have opposite trends. So, for example 1942-1944 (Fig. 4, Top-left) was a major drought in the Eastern region, but it was pretty wet in the Western region. In studying major pluvial events (Fig. 5) – the conditions were pretty wet across the entire network. Some of these results, particularly maps of major drought events, indicate that the Eastern and Western regions of the network are highly unique from one another. This could partly be attributed to topographic differences, as the Western region is located in the Khangai Mountains, whereas the Eastern region is on the leeward side of the Khentii mountains.

Fig. 4. Major drought events. Top-left, 1942-1944 in the Eastern region. Top-right, 1854-1858 in the Western region. Bottom-left, 1822-1825 in the Northern region. Bottom-right, 1928-1930 in the Central region.

Fig. 5. Major pluvial events. Top-left, 1829-1830 in the Eastern region. Top-right, 1916-1917 in the Western region. Bottom-left, 1985-1986 in the Northern region. Bottom-right, 1958-1960 in the Central region.

If you’d like to see more detailed descriptions of my methods, and other cool results from this study, search for my thesis on the following website: http://wvuscholar.wvu.edu. However, it will not be available for a few more months. You can also contact me if you would like a copy.

After reading this, I hope you can see how my research highlights the extent of spatial and temporal variability in hydroclimate across north-central Mongolia. These results could be used to understand regional trends in climate and to potentially help guide water resource management efforts. Recent severe droughts across Mongolia suggest that water management will be increasingly important in coming decades. These findings are an important stepping stone for further research and will be valuable for producing additional climate reconstructions.

The next big question: What large-scale climate forcings might be influencing climate, and how dynamic are these forcings? It looks like I will need a lot more tea….got milk?

This work would have not been possible without the support of Neil and Amy as my advisors, the expertise of Dr. Baatarbileg Nachin, Dr. Nicole Davi, and field help from Byambagerel Suran, Uyanga Ariya, and Bayra. Oh, and of course Tom!

By Amy Hessl

How do you know when you are in wilderness?  When you have walked beyond where most people walk, when you have left the road, left the (human) trail, passed the cut stumps and horse dung, climbed up over rocks and through burned birch forest and finally when the easiest route to walk is not a path tread by people but rather the path tread by wolves, moose and deer.  The dark forests of Bugant contain thousands of square kilometers of such places.

looking east across the Bugant forest wilderness

The Khentii Mountains are steep and largely inaccessible to all but the most stolid hunters.  Dirt tracks only passable during dry conditions traverse the mountains and occasional jeeps pass through, but the original forest is largely intact – old growth Scots pine forest with infrequent fires (for Mongolia). The Khentii Mountains near Bugant are the center of conifer diversity in Mongolia.  Bugant is the only place in Mongolia where you can see seven native tree species living together (two pines, larch, spruce, fir, birch and aspen) .  Towering pines stand at odd angles leering down on currant bushes full of fruit.  Animal scat is everywhere – moose, wolf, bear, deer.  Cut stumps occur only in the first 100 m from the road, then dissipate as the slopes steepen.  There is literally no sign of man beyond those stumps.  But we threaten.

mining damage downstream of the Bugant Wilderness

Gold mines – piled high with the remains of hydraulic mining (the same technique used in the Sierra Nevada and Rocky Mountains during their gold rushes) – creep in to Bugant along the rivers and streams.  With them comes money – money for railroads and improved roads that bring the end of the wild.  Amazingly, Bugant is unprotected – it exists in its wild state only because of its inaccessibility.  It truly is a last great place and worthy of the highest protection.  The gold mines play out in a few years, but the slug of sediment will creep downstream for centuries and the mercury used to refine the gold will poison the well-water for just as long.  Once perturbed, the wildnerness will be gone forever.  Let’s find a way to protect Bugant!

birch forest in the Bugant Wilderness

By Neil Pederson

With much thanks to our colleague, Dr. Baatarbileg Nachin, field research in Mongolia gets better each year.

Mongolians generally live at a different pace of life than many Americans and merging schedules to conduct field research can prove to be tricky. I have seen colleagues have their sense of pace challenged here. This year, however, we were packed, loaded and on the road a little over 36 hours after touching down in Ulaanbaatar. It was so quick it caught me off-guard; I almost begged for another day of acclimation.

Despite Intellicast.com forecasting generally cool weather leading up to our trip (70s in the day, 40s at night, which, after the late-July heat wave, had me drooling), the weather changed significantly upon our arrival – it was warm and humid (for Mongolia); it must have followed us over.

Not only did the quick departure from UB surprise us, the smooth road between UB and Erdenet whisked us to less than 50 km from Russia in no time. The only thing that made us hesitate was the brewing thunderstorm in the distance.

thunderstorm a'brewing

The storm forced us to stop and pack items on the roof of our rig inside.

(did you see  the lightning strikes?)

We got back on the road and crossed a major river with many vendors selling fish. It is a sight I had not seen in 7 visits to Mongolia – “fish for sale!”

We stopped in the large, copper-mining town of Erdenet to pick up one of Baatar’s students, Erden. We also took in a fine meal at one of the best restaurants in Mongolia, …huh, it is so good, and perhaps new, that Lonely Planet doesn’t list it. It was Asian themed and upscale; the clientele were young, good-looking and fashionable.

the wood helps keep the dish warm throughout the meal!

We quickly made it to Erden’s folk’s home in Hyagalant. The town is a lovely, piney village near the Russian border (piney here is used in the southeastern US sense – the village is well-treed and on a sandy plain in the Selenge River Valley. There is a Coastal Plain or Piedmont feel to the land around Erden’s folk’s home).

Upon finally getting out of the vehicle, I felt a large sense of relief and familiarity. First, it was much cooler than UB. Second, the cool air was a bit more humid than the air we had left. It reminded me of cool, summer nights in the Adirondacks. I seriously contemplated sending home for the family and moving to Hyagalant. Erden’s home was unusual in that it was a two-story, log cabin/house. It was very well kept. As we would learn over the next few days, Erden’s parents are kind, hard-working and fastidious. Erden’s home seemed like a bit of Eden to me.

Piney log home in Hyagalant

I  think what we appreciated most about our temporary residence was the heavily-used, external kitchen (below).

the outdoor kitchen and gathering room

fish-eye view of the outdoor kitchen table

Per Mongolian tradition, within minutes of our arrival we were invited to the table and served Mongolian tea, bread and cheese.

This tradition and their grounding in time and life is one reason I love coming to Mongolia. Mongolians greet strangers warmly, immediately offer drink and food and settle in for a nice visit. Time matters little. Life unfolds as it should, as it needs. People talk, smile and just relax. In many homes toasts are made, gifts are exchanged upon arrival and best wishes are expressed for whatever your goal for the visit might be. These wishes are sincere. For example, a few days later we drove to the southern side of the Selenge River looking for forests to sample. We completely struck out despite much local advice. Erden’s father truly felt terrible as we left later that day for another forest. I didn’t know what he was saying, but his feelings were obvious.

Anyhow, this outdoor space was the center of activity during our time there. Folks came and went. We had many meals and visits at that table. After success in this area, which will be relayed later, the family’s farm workers came by to discuss the haying season and operations. It turned out to be a spirited discussion:

These visits and experiences are a welcomed reminder as to what should ground our lives – being kind people and moving at a pace that is necessary at that moment.

Another thing I love about returning to Mongolia is the lack of light pollution, especially around the time of the Perseids. I am so much more of a stargazer in Mongolia. How could one not be? This is what night looks like, even in the village of Hyagalant:

night

After they cleared out their living room to make it our bedroom for the night, we headed for the forest the next morning. Our first stop was a davaa (mountain pass) just outside of town. It looked amazingly like a davaa we visited 2 years earlier, but many kilometers away. The forest was young, but held no prospect for research. However, we did happen on an old marker that Baatar said had Tibetan script on it:

Perhaps this was a road signpost from 100,000 days past?

We then headed to another flat, piney forest on another side of town. While this forest also had large pine and some fire scars, it was not quite old enough for the goals of our study. While driving through the forest, we were brought to an important, local ‘landmark’ – the Hanging Tree.

the Hanging Tree

The story behind this tree is that a Russian general or military leader attempted to make a significant amount of the land around Hyagalant his own, personal Idaho. The locals, expectedly, didn’t take too well to this land grab and went after the leader. They brought him and several of his followers to this tree and hung them.

I’ve been brought to a hanging tree before, a tree from a darker part of American history. These kinds of trees have such a diametrically opposed meaning for me from how I view trees, I am at a loss on how to view or treat them. I mean, it isn’t like they went out of their way to to play this role in history; they are innocent. And, I still cannot believe what people did/do to one another. I cannot fathom it (yes, i read the news and know a bit about history).

I mean, in one sense I do understand this. I’ve been a part of some heated rivalries with those dreaded B’ville Bees; truly fierce. I’ve seen and been a part of heated discussions regarding SEC football or March Madness. I understand tribesmanship. I know how heated things get. But, to take it that far?…..

Anyhow, we were not there for long and, as you can see, the living tree is gone and it will soon return to the soil, be recycled and feed a new, more innocent generation of plants and animals (hopefully).

The next day our trip to the forest was delayed by some rig repair. Most roads in Mongolia are rough. And, to be a driver, you must also be a mechanic and have ears better than an owl. Baatar has all of that.

fixing the emergency brake

Not only do you have to be handy, you must be prepared:

now THIS is from nuts to bolts

Once repaired we headed to the southern side of the Selenge River Valley. We saw many wonderful things, but not enough fire scars. Many of our conversations went like this:

We stopped at a few homes and asked for advice. Here is the end of such a scene – watch for our local host to finish his tea. Even simply asking for advice demands a stop and cup of tea in Mongolia.

Despite these stops we found nothing…so far. Our success, a Goldmine and Field of Onions, will come a bit later. For now, I will cap this post off with scenes from the Selenge Valley and soundscapes of lands without machines.

Stockton Maxwell spent a few days in this village. He made quite the impression. He is in a family's shrine!

all homes have some kind of shrine. this one included Chinggis

family

Selenge River Valley

Selenge River Valley

looking WNW towards Russia

What is it like driving around the wilds of Mongolia in a Russian jeep? Buckle up!

Did you hear that? Yup, nothing but insects.

More sounds of Mongolian wilderness

By Neil Pederson

We, Amy and me, have finally made it to Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia (UB) to start the 2011 field season. It was a long journey getting here. We went through China because I have a conference to attend after fieldwork in Xi’an, China. This made the purchasing of tickets easier and would give us time to work on the plane and in transit.

China is not the preferred path to get into Mongolia. That would be South Korea. This trip underscored that point. We flew Air China, which is a fine airline. But, with no outlets for power to run our laptops and no individual TV screens, this old-skool plane would test us by taking us back in time. We got some work done, slept a bit, saw a low-resolution Asian karate/kung-fu flick and slept. Continental or Korea Air are much better.

a 3D pan of the insides of an old-skool jet

The good thing about flying through China is that, for me, the airport is a marvel. It is huge, airy and just beautiful to stare at over Thai food while enduring jet buzz following a 12 hr trip. However, the wait ended up being much less comfortable – we pretty much spent too many hrs on the floor of the airport; there was no place to crash. China needs to rectify this! It is a lovely airport, though.

This year’s trip started in a way that last yr’s trip ended, but, in reality, how all trips to Mongolia should begin: meeting the panhandler of all panhandlers in Mongolia.

I met this man on my first trip in 1998. In fact, Brendan Buckley and I crossed paths with him about 4-5 times that summer. He didn’t speak much English and always wore a suit jacket. He puts postcards or some trinkets into your hands and pulls out a slip of paper saying that his ger has burned down, he has lost some of his family and he could use some money.

I met him on my last day in Mongolia in 2010 [pic below]. I was so happy and surprised to see him – I hadn’t seen him in a few yrs until that day. I smiled while he talked and said, “I know you! I’ve met you before. I’m happy to see you are doing well.”

He said, “You know me?”

I said, “Yes. I’ve met you several times over the years.”

With that he quickly turned and walked away. So, it was with great surprise to see him yesterday. He looked good and his English is now much better. He had on a suit jacket, a better one than 13 yrs ago, in fact. I tried to get a picture of his face, but he held up his hands in protest and said, “no pictures. But, RMB or Singaporean money I’ll take.” We laughed, put the postcards back in his hand and he left. Baatar, our host, said he has never seen him drunk or acting poorly. So, there is a good, responsible person behind this act. Obviously, if his face was exposed, he’d have no act.

the panhandler of all panhandlers in Mongolia scurrying away

Anyhow, after we left the airport and made it to downtown UB at midday, we were running on fumes. Neither of us had slept much and we were a bit delirious. We checked into our rooms in the Puma and I finally got a shower.

morning view over downtown UB from the Puma hotel

The water didn’t heat up much, so I woke up again. I also woke because we met up with our great Mongolian colleague, Baatarbileg Nachin.

Baatar singing at the 2006 fieldweek in Mongolia

It is always great to re-visit a long-time friend; I first met Baatar in 1998 when he was a PhD student and I was a tech. Seeing him, hearing the Mongolian language and the beautiful faces of Mongolians woke me up and postponed my nap. I took to the streets to visit old haunts and take in the city. I was excited to be in town again.

I went to the State Department Store, which was this colossal & drab Communist-era store in 1998 and now a modern, clean, bright and diverse store. I stopped at the fruit stand next to the department store to pick up some bananas; I stopped there every 2-3 days for 1.5 months last summer. I think the proprietor recognized me. She smiled warmly and broadly, which, as you ought to know, is not Mongolian. I then popped into Cafe Amsterdam for a warm drink. It is about 15-20 degrees F cooler this week compared to our trip last year. It forebodes of snow this field season.

It was a rush to see the faces and streets of Mongolia. One of the running themes on this blog is how Mongolians are blending the old and the new. While the rate of construction likely hasn’t slowed much, downtown UB appears fairly stable since 2006, there are still changes afoot. Not too many obvious things have changed. The changes in this part of the city now seems to be more of the infrastructure – sidewalks, re-facing buildings, etc. But, the most amazing thing to me is to see the amount of bananas for sale on UB’s streets. Last yr was the first year I was able to get bananas here – good, fresh bananas like back in the US. In a short walk I saw 4-5 stalls selling bananas and several Mongolians eating bananas while they walked. From a 1998 context, this is a rather jarring image.

Yet at the same time, not all that much has changed. Apparently there is a bumper crop of Siberian pine cones this yr. Siberian pine produce pine nuts like those you find in fine US markets. However, pine nuts in Mongolia are not a food one would only consider from upscale markets – it is a regular food. They are not produced regularly every year. But, during bumper-crop years, they are everywhere. I started noticing the bracts on the sidewalk and saw a young boy run by with a Siberian  pine cone in his hand. The cones are beautiful (we’ll post a pic soon). An upscale Mongolian woman was nibbling pine nuts in Cafe Amsterdam with her latte.  And, here we are again – an afternoon snack of millennial-old and modern-day foods in downtown UB.

Lastly, the people on the flight in were interesting and not completely ‘typical’ for most flights I’ve taken over the last decade into Mongolia. There were Mongolians and tourists. But, there were many men that seemed to be into security or something similar. We happened to sit next to a western man supervising mines in western Mongolia. It was an enlightening, though sadly enlightening conversation. Mongolia is being over-run by mining interests. Perhaps nothing can represent this better than what we saw on the streets of UB last night: an H2 Hummer with Kentucky license plates:

KY hummer

 The Gold Rush is On!

A blog on “All Things Mongolian!

By Neil Pederson

Another late-summer, another trip to Mongolia.

We are less than two weeks from our last expedition as a part of our current research project: Climate, Fire & Forest Ecology in Mongolia. Mongolia, as it always does, starts creeping into the back of my mind and emerging from my bones this time of year. A few weeks ago I woke and craved a hotdog for breakfast, which, as you can imagine, is an unusual thing for a typical American breakfast. However, when a Mongolian colleague stayed at my house for 3 months many years ago,  he ate some kind of sausage every day for breakfast. As I look towards my 7th trip to Mongolia, I get it. I understand this diet. It is still surprising, though, how this happened. How this craving came from nowhere as we moved into summer.

Despite this forewarning, Mongolia is almost on our “10-day clock‘ and I am a bit shocked. The trip seems to be arriving at light speed. With another heat wave spreading being forecast  across the US, the forecast of cooler temperatures in Mongolia, however, are extremely appealing.

A recurring theme on this blog is the pace at which things are changing in Mongolia, culturally and ecologically. We have begun diving into meteorological records over the past year as a part of our data analysis. We have heard from colleagues and the people we meet in the shops and cafes of Mongolia about the severe drought in Mongolia over the last decade. But, only upon  finally seeing the meteorological data of the 2000s can we comprehend the magnitude of what we have been told and what the trees are saying: It is getting dry!

April through August streamflow of the Kherlen Gol since 1959 at Undurkhaan

You can see the “long-term” trend in the streamflow of the Kherlen Gol at Undurkhaan. The step-change in moisture since the late-1990s is what has artists, resource managers and environmentalists talking. A larger regional investigation by Jinbao Li confirms this pattern across eastern China and Mongolia.

However, this is why we do tree-ring research. Yes, there is a trend in declining moisture availability since the 1950s, but that is only 50 years. Research by students in Amy Hessl’s lab at West Virginia University, specifically Tom Saladyga and Caroline Leland, as well as research by Nicole Davi and myself at the Tree Ring Lab of Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory, indicate that the 1900s might have been fairly wet versus much of the prior 250 years. In fact, the late-1900s might have been the peak of this pluvial. If so, that is a nasty set up for a significantly-dry, decade-long drought. That puts a slightly different perspective on these changes [that requires more analysis in the coming year].

Regardless, a reduction in precipitation in the east, combined with greater demand for large-scale mining, wood products and the recovery of agriculture in Mongolia, ratchets up the environmental and societal pressures within the nation.

So, it is with good news that I learned this morning that CNN will be reporting on modern Mongolia. The world’s fascination with the great Mongol Empire ought to bring in more viewers. That is my hope.

Mongolia was left a bit unprepared for independence. They are quickly recovering and reclaiming what was lost during the 20th century. The discovery of so many precious minerals and resources below the Mongolian steppe is causing a rapid transformation in culture and the ecology of the land that requires world attention. Yes, Mongolians are fiercely independent and strong. But, the pressures for resource extraction are so great that it would be fantastic if news of what is happening in Mongolia brings assistance to the preservation of the mesmerizing Mongolian landscape and culture.

Recent research has discovered a major settlement of the Uigher empire dating to the 8th and 9th century in the Orkhon Valley [full text of link password protected].

image of ancient settlement adapted from Science Magazine - http://www.sciencemag.org/

a potpourri of Mongolian news after this landscape pict:

steppe flowers catch the last rays and first moonbeams - photo by Amy Hessl

- a new movie, The Two Horses of Genghis Khan

- Who benefits from Mongolia’s riches?

- a NewsHour photoessay on nomadic life in Mongolia

- how are Mongolians adapting to the U.S. and western culture?

- and speaking of Mongolians in other nations, could there be thousands, if not millions of Mongolians scattered across Eurasia?

- what are White Mongolians? Might they represent direct descendants of the Golden Horde that did not make it back to Mongolia after the collapse of the Mongol Empire?

- speaking of the Golden Horde, note how long Mongolians occupied eastern Europe during this movie of 10 centuries of European history in 5 minutes.

we’ll sign off with another landscape view of one of Mongolia’s scenic natural wonders, Terkhiin Tsagaan Nuur.

Terkhiin Tsagaan Nuur by Amy Hessl

a feature on Bolortsetseg Minjin, female paleontologist

recap of the 2009-2010 dzuud

an essay on over-grazing and desertification

government cabinet conduct a meeting in the Gobi to discuss global change and protecting Mongolia’s natural resources

ministers meeting discussing the nation’s environmental future

the main portion of the 2010 field season went out like a lamb yesterday, no Mongolian pun intended. we traveled the Millennial Road to check out a site I spotted a few weeks ago and look for other sites that might help fill in a part of the northern portion of our climate network. on the third viewing from afar, it looked better than the first two. however, what we could not see was a fence on the eastern end of this rocky, elevated valley nor the chained gate on the dirt road leading into the site:

fences and, especially with gates, are new things in Mongolia. most land is open to the public, so to speak. it turns out that the owner is a famous lama and sculptor. our leader on this trip, Professor Dima [pic below], compared the owner to Zanabazar, a famous artist and lama in Mongolian history. also, the modern lama-artist is building a new monastery on his little cul-de-sac in this corner of the world.

the owner went back to town that morning, but we were allowed on site by the owner’s gatekeeper because Dima said we wanted to take pictures of the unique rock formations and the trees sitting on the rocks. after getting in we asked permission from the construction workers to do the same. it was agreeable to them for us to tour the site. but, given the elevated status of this site and our unusual appearance and request, we decided to hold off on any sampling until we get permission to sample by the owner.

after a wonderful autumn hike while scouting out the site, autumn was in the air and yellow birch leaves were on the ground, it was hard to drive away with no samples. it was a nearly ideal site in a great location for our research needs.

there is always next yr, correct?

this yr turned out great! we sampled >1400 trees in a wide swath of Mongolia, from Urgun Nars to past Sologotyin Davaa [east to west], and from the Tuul Gol watershed in the south to near the Russian border at Tujyin Nars. big cheers to the whole crew: Byamba, Tom & Cari who arrived first and spent most of their summer in Mongolia. Enkhbat, engineer and Renaissance Mongolian who drove long days on the roughest road, cooked scrumptious meals, made peace with the ants and introduced us to the world of Mongolian Road Trance Tripping. Peter, who sampled the eastern portion of our network before battling a bit of an illness. Amy, who fiercely led what might have led the toughest portion of the summer: insects, rain on cold days, a windstorm, snow, terrible roads and a co-leader who dropped like a fly a couple of times. and, a big thanks to Ashley for volunteering her time and money for our September sampling. it certain made the sampling that much easier and better!

Most of all, we could not have completed the long summer without the leadership of Dr. Baatarbileg and his great set of students assisting us, most notably, star quarterback, Bayaraa, his sidekick Galaa, who made sure no food went to waste and Uyanga, whose assistance at the margins of this field season are extremely valuable to the success of this project.

now, some pix from the Lama Cul-de-Sac:

Bayaraa on the QB perch with the western valley in the background.

Bayaraa emerging from a wolf cave?

the main formation that drew my attention from the Millennial Road

the west side of the main rock outcrop. note a couple oldish looking trees and low forest density. it seems a large fire, producing 15-25′ fire scars, thinned the woods.

full pan of the western valley. note the unbroken forest to the southwest and on the far mountain range.

western valley

west valley view

a few words about Dr. Dima. first, i want to call him Professor Dima because he embodies the great patience, tolerance, wisdom and intelligence you want from your favorite professor.

luckily, i met Professor Dima within the first week of my first visit to Mongolia in 1998 at a small conference at Terelj. at that time his hair was much longer. and, as i recall, it stood out almost like a headdress. and, for the longest time he held that epic stoicism that Mongolians are well know for. he is stout, but in a muscular kind of way like many Mongolians. he looked fierce. it was easy to envision him on horseback as a part of Chinggis’ great army. he was intimidating.

by the end of that trip, or perhaps on my second visit, his placid mask melted and the kind, patient and intelligent man you are getting a glimpse of above was revealed. at the time, during Mongolia’s post-communism hunger period, he told me that there was no money for him to conduct research. he studied biophysics and was perhaps the most intelligent scientist i had met [oh, and he speaks Mongolian, Russian, Japanese and English]. his intellect is  impressive and i was saddened that he could not conduct his research. it must have been frustrating.

i am happy to say his career has risen. he is collaborating with people in Japan and is heavily involved with the first eddy-flux tower in Mongolia, which measures how a forest ‘breathes in’ CO2 and ‘exhales’ oxygen. i am thrilled at his success. i was taken back when he told me this year that he would retire in about 3 yrs. i told him he was too young. he then informed me that he had been teaching for 35 yrs. well, he has certainly earned retirement. [i swear he looks in the lower to mid-50s, not lower 60s. i would have guessed 12 yrs ago he was in his late-30s - that is how robust he looked. his age is starting to peak out now].

our last extended field excursion went off without a hitch. No major mishaps or illnesses to report. Well, I did catch the Tengri bug.

It was mostly paved road to our first stop – smooth sailing all the way. We stayed at the home of our colleague’s best friend from college. Like always, the hospitality was the tops – ceremony, pre-dinner foods, two kinds of main dishes and the best room in the house was ours for the night. The conversation was great. It mostly centered on the differences between the American & Mongolian diets. It was an insightful, warm and fun conversation. Perhaps the biggest conclusion was that the Mongolian tea – milk, black tea and salt – makes perfect evolutionary sense – it is their Gatorade. It must help them combat the arid environment. Most interestingly, the concentration of salt increases as aridity increases, moving east to west across the country. It might be that with climate change and increased moisture availability western Mongolia, future tea will be characterized as having less salt (our hosts at dinner last night explained there is less salt in eastern Mongolian tea because of the minerals in the water that occur as a result of the limestone bedrock; guess Inner Bluegrassians already know this? They also explained that western Mongolian is tea is better because of additional ingredients. This is an observation I agree with – you’ll have to go west Cari to get the good stuff).

Our other interesting conversation was based upon ‘burial’ rituals in Mongolia and Inner Mongolia. The book “Wolf Totem” explains how Mongolian culture is strongly influenced by wolf culture. The great Mongolian Armies of the 13th century, if not earlier versions, adapted some the tactics that wolves use to hunt. So, I asked if it was true that Inner Mongolians bury their dead as described in the book. These rituals begin with taking a stripped corpse and putting it on the back of a cart. They run the cart up into the mountains. When the corpse falls off the cart, that is its burial location. The burial, however, comes next. Wolves come and, uh, hmm, bury the corpse by ingesting it. The interesting thing is that, in the book, this is portrayed as an honor. Most importantly for the surviving friends and family is how quickly the corpse is buried. The faster it is buried, the better that person is thought to have lived and the quicker they will reach their version of heaven.

Our host said this was generally true. He went on to tell us that on the steppes of Mongolia they do something similar to this – they put the corpse under something [a special cloth? sheet?] and have the large vultures bury the deceased. The faster they are buried, the better the lives that they lived and faster they come back to human life. The longer it takes for a steppe Mongolian to be buried, the longer the journey back to human life for that person. First they might come back as a dog and then a cow or yak and then a horse, etc, before they come back as a human. Apparently family or friends paint or mark the good ones and look for them to come back. They search their children for marks or mannerisms of favorite ancestors.

Which, of course, led to a brief discussion on blue spot or blue mark (which is a great song, btw) or the Mongolian spot. This is a common blue birthmark in many Asians and, interestingly, native Americans. Our colleague’s 3 yr old girl apparently has a lot of spots on her back and it bothers her a bit. According to wiki, these spots go away by age 5 or so.

Now, my Tengri bug. Apparently, I caught it in 1998. It lay dormant for 13 years. The sacred Orkhon Valley and prevailing weather conditions triggered a massive episode of Tengri. Wow, was the sky beautiful on this last trip. We sampled trees near the only waterfall in central Mongolia on the margins of the day, at dusk and dawn. This made the sky simply brilliant. It was hard to take one’s eyes off the sky, shadows and colors. It was brilliant. The intervening night was crystal clear as well. In fact, I noticed for the first time [or did not remember from prior observations] the ‘k’ shape in the Milky Way. It was stunning. It was definitely a top ten sampling day.

What does Tengri look like? Here is one example:

for the complete gallery, go here and be sure to view on ‘Slideshow‘

Two other notes from this part of our trip:

First, this waterfall is the Madonna, Prince, Beyonce, Sting of waterfalls in Mongolia. When we were trying to come up with a site name for our work, our colleague said it was hard to derive a three-word descriptor that we typically use for sites as it only had one name – Hurshree.

Finally, we happened to catch Altan Urag two nights in a row. The first concert was planned. Ashley wanted to see them play. It was a packed house at Ikh Mongol. Despite some early technical difficulties, they really rocked the house. The difficulties actually made them smile a bit. And, apparently the drummer has a boyfriend or a close, western acquaintance. He stood against a wall near the stage at the beginning of the show. Their eyes locked and she smiled! It was cute. Altan Urag’s soundman was a kick. There is no doubt he listens to them live almost every night. Yet, at Ikh Mongol he was rocking out like he was hearing them for the first time. They were on fire, though, so it is understandable. While playing a rocking tune (that I do not know the title to) the bassist was inserting some near funk rhythms making the  band interpret the song a little differently. It was great. The next night, they were not as hot [though still good].

We went out to a celebratory dinner – our colleague turned 42 and it was the last time he was going to see Ashley before she left Mongolia. So, we went to the upscale restaurant, Mongolian’s. As we walked in there was an Altan Urag poster. Apparently they play at Mongolian’s weekly – they are even featured on  the back of their menu. What a treat. They took the stage nearly on time, but without their female singer. It was a pity that she was not with the band as they could not fully play Native Mongolia or Shiree Nuur. They played nearly all the same songs as the first two times I saw them this year. But they only played 4 songs last night. It was just a business performance for them, no doubt.

Our colleague didn’t appreciate them as much as we did. I think he was looking for more traditional Mongolian music. He is worried people will think this is traditional Mongolian music. He commented on how only two instruments, the horn and the (string & spoons), were close to traditional. The morin khuur that Altan Urag uses is not made properly and does not have the correct sound. I tried to remind him that the great Mongolian empire under Chinggis liberally borrowed from other cultures, Persia, eastern Europe, China, etc, and blended them with their traditions to create the great Mongolian empire. This is what I see with the Mongolian artists and musicians like Altan Urag. It is really nothing new in that sense. He did note that the drummer used the traditional
Mongolian face – epic stoicism. I did catch her nearly smiling, however.

hints of a smile

BTW, it is clear that the male Mongolians really dig her. Our younger colleague, seeing them play for the first time, noted that she was a great drummer. Apparently he hasn’t yet heard John Bohnam, Neil Peart or Dave Grohl, among the many other great rock drummers. I think the Mongol boys admire a strong and attractive woman that can rock the kit.

Finally, finally – apparently combining traditional Mongolian music to beatbox is all the rage. See here, here and here.

highlights of our last trip:

entering the sacred Orkhon Valley

Ashley strolling on ancient lava

nicknamed, by me, the Beastie Buddha Stupa, i listened to this and this while facing the temple

Ashley coring on the cliff above Orkhon Gol

Bayaraa sampling on the cliff above Orkhon Gol

the Orkhon Gol, unfortunately, is now polluted by gold mining upstream

Galaa next to a tom shins (big larch) next to Orkhon Gol

Galaa and another set of falls on Orkhon Gol

in the distance you can see the last forest in the Orkhon Valley. just over the mountains begins the great Gobi Steppe & Desert. from this view, we are ~30 km from the southern edge of the Mongolian forest in the valley.

love the orange lichen in Mongolia

tourist ger camps near Hurshree

the light at sunrise inspired the field work

some random shots from the last three weeks:

our apartment is near the times square of Mongolia. the State Dept. Store is behind the photographer. this was a drab, empty location 13 yrs ago. now it is full of life, for good or bad.

you are seeing a happening! we were shopping at the cashmere store when, suddenly, a fashion show began. after it finished the designer for the new fall line apparently arrived and was interviewed for television and such. she is the one in the hat, of course. her assistant is next to her with coffee in her hand, of course. her male assistant, you can see his Adidas shoes, had a long pony tail, a leather jacket and was seen carrying a small lap dog later, of course. the American might have been an agent for a store in the US. she seemed familiar with the Devil who Wears Cashmere [she is not likely a devil; just thought we were in the movie].

one never knows what they might see or hear in Mongolia. apparently a branch of the Rainbow Family got lost and ended up in a swanky Mongolian restaurant. dad is on the far left.