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Ridden 1000km across Mongolia in eight and a half day... Tick!  That's 
one more thing I cannot sign away on Life's Challenges Done and Dusted.

I'm writing this after just getting back from the Finish Line at Dadal, 
15 hours from Ulaanbataar...  So everything is quite surreal and the 
novelty of a flushing toilet, fruit and a distinct lack of not 
everything tasting of mutton is freaking me out slightly after so long 
out there on the steppes.
The race was so epic, and so much happened, that I can't even begin to 
sum up what can only be described as an epic, fabulous adventure...  In 
my current post-hot-bath state (oh, you should have seen the ring of 
dirt around the bath), I can only really give you a brief run down of 
events..

The start was exciting- the couple of training days in Kharkorin were 
fantastic fun, getting the hang of the ponies, meeting the other 
eccentrics who decided racing across Mongolia was a great idea, and 
packing, packing and re-packing our saddlebags and realising all we 
really needed is one clean pair of undies and a sleeping bag for this 
adventure.

The first couple of days of the race were a real eye-opener to the 
reality of what it's like out there on the steppes, what's necessary, 
what's not, how to survive, dealing with saddle sores for 12-14 hours a 
day in the saddle... I started the first couple of days up front in the 
race- riding through a relentless sandstorm, scarves pulled up over the 
mouth, hunched in the saddle, urging your dwindling horse through sand 
dune after sand dune with wind and sand whipping up in my face was 
probably the moment when I took a mental take and thought, 'Gosh, this 
really IS an adventure.'

The terrain I've ridden through has varied so much- from dunes to valley 
basins, rocky craggy peaks and through tiny desolate ex-Soviet outposts 
that are inhabited by a couple of Mongolians who eke out livings in the 
middle of nowhere and drink a lot of mare's milk... It was a lot colder 
than expected- there were definitely some scorching days of course, but 
also some pretty average cold rainy days when you would get off your 
horse after 14 hours in the saddle and not be able to remove the buckle 
on your helmet because you were so cold.

The Mongolian nomads and their amazing culture definitely made this 
adventure what it was- every horse station you arrived at, you would be 
greeted by a flock of Mongolians ready to ply you with hot milky tea and 
milk curds (later on when suffering from explosive bowel movements and 
queasy stomachs, the curds became known as the 'C' word, never to be 
uttered as the mere thought of them turn the stomach after awhile).  
Everything you tasted had a distinct taste of mutton or goat to it.  
Even the water.  I am slightly over mutton, just quietly.  Nomadic 
hospitality though- truly amazing.  My most memorable encounter was on 
the third day, I think... I had started off my 40km leg that morning- 
usually a leg should on average take around 4 hours, depending on 
terrain- however Lady Luck was against me and I had chosen out a 
chestnut gelding from the pony lines of the previous urtuu (horse 
station) who ran out of oomph only 15km into the ride, after only light 
trotting and walking... as it was approaching the heat of the day, I 
thought he might brighten up if watered, as the difference in a pony 
after giving it water and sploshing it down can make all the difference- 
after refusing to drink out of a river and two different wells (and 
wells are not easy to get water from at times if without a bucket and 
rope- this is when you need to employ the 
rock-in-bottom-of-sleeping-bag-cover-tied-to-long-rope approach to get 
water from a well).. After refusing to drink, my pony was quite 
exhausted, and would not go any further excpet at a walk whilst led- 
thus began an epic walk to the next urtuu.  Not able to make it before 
dark, I was forced to ask for a bed from a random Mongolian family who 
were lovely, fed me some rice pudding, then stripped off their gear and 
went to bed.  They thought I was very odd as I insisted on wearing my 
thermals to bed as it was FREEZING, and not to go for the naked approach 
they all went for.  Similar incidents to this include the little girl 
who followed me to the toilet and squatted down beside me despite all 
frantic attempts on my behalf to shoo her away whilst I was wrestling 
with bowel movements, and curious Mongolians who zoom up on motorbikes 
grinning at you madly when you're trying to take a quick squat by your 
pony.

By day three or four, I had ended up riding with what became known as 
'Team Australasia Plus Nick', with the two Kiwi girls, Charlotte and 
Hannah, and Nick Farnhill from the UK.  It was funny how you ended up 
riding with people- really, though, you realise very quickly out there 
on the steppe that riding alone is fraught with peril- the danger of 
falling off and your horse bolting away, hurting yourself, going coco 
loco just riding alone in the middle of nowhere- riding with the 
aforementioned guys above just made my whole Derby experience so much 
better- the most memorable moments perhaps being when I fell down a 
marmot hole (very common) and fell off, and my horse galloped away, and 
the two Kiwis streamed off after him to catch him for me- Nick also 
streamed away, in the opposite direction as his horse bolted- anyway the 
result of THAT fall was a broken girth, a loss of a stirrup and my 
saddle bags strewn all over the steppe which meant a massive delay- and 
my team mates, instead of continuing on racing as at that stage we were 
in a pretty good race position, plonked themselves down and set up a 
picnic on the steppe, at which point I could have cried at such an 
amazing show of what can only be termed ever so cheesily as team 
loyalty. Nick, Charlotte and Hannah were just fantastic to ride with and 
I can now tell you every last bodily function about any of them, after 
we all picked up an evil bug causing explosive bowel movements midway 
through- although what happens on the steppe stays on the steppe, can I 
just say that trying to hold things in on a trotting horse is truly a 
superhuman effort, and boy oh boy did we harden up time and time again.  
Anyway enough of that.

Scariest moment of the whole race was probably falling down yet another 
marmot hole and my horse cartwheeling over and pinning my leg down- 
getting up I had no vision which scared the living daylights out of me.  
Luckily we had only three days of riding left, though looking back I 
realise I had a bit of concussion as result after a few woozy episodes 
losing my balance and the like and an amazing headache.

Best moment- well there probably isn't just one, but a definite 
highlight was one leg of the journey where all four of us had chosen 
fast, powerful, fit Nadaam racehorses for a certain leg, and had a 
fantastic gallop across some flat open terrain- the exhiliration of that 
gallop on such amazing horses will be scorched in my memory for a long 
time to come.

Coming into the Finish Line finally at Dadal, eight and a half days 
after beginning this adventure, I was feeling both exhilirated and sad 
to be ending such a once in a lifetime adventure.  Passing over the 
finish line abreast with the other members of Team Australasia Plus Nick 
felt brilliant. Being greeted with a bowl of airag and traditional 
Mongolian singers was fantastic.  And that first celebratory beer after 
finishing... went STRAIGHT to the head.
I'll report back with a bit more as it comes to be over the next few 
days chilling here with fellow Derbyists here in Ulaanbaatar.  Thank you 
to all who followed my progress throughout the race and supported me- I 
think they'll be putting up final race places on the website in the next 
couple of days once they've sorted out time penalties and the finer 
details of everything..
Oh, and the mare's milk? Delicious!
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