Bring on The Eagles

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Just to simplify the map, I haven't diverted it back to Ulaanbaater to start the trip.

Eagle Hunting - An Introduction!

Eagle Hunting, a strange one............. a little background to the madness. Over 200 years ago the advance of the Russian Empire troops pushed Kazakhs to neighboring countries. In mid-19th century part of the Lower Dzuuz Clan came to Mongolia and settle in Bayan Olgii, and for the most of 20th century they remained an isolated, tightly knit community.

Among many Kazakh traditions is the ancient art of hunting with trained birds of prey. For hunting, Kazakhs catch and train Golden Eagles. The claws on an eagle's toes are curved and razor-sharp for catching and holding their prey.

And so every year at the beginning of October these Kazakh hunters come out to display their stills at the local eagle hunting festival.

Setting Off

I had seen that the festival would coincide with my Mongolian visit when I was in China, but when I got there the logistics were a bit tricky. Just to get there was a 1600km trip over 'roads' that you travel an average of 40km/hr on. This is in a good van. Public microbus might be half this depending how many people are jammed into it. Traveling 1600km with 20 people jammed into a 10 person van didn't appeal. But as luck has it, chance encounters really can turn things on their head. Bumping into a drooling Englishman late on a Saturday night on the town, he was headed that way with a group and there were a couple of spare seats. I only had to be asked once.

There were six of us, Adam the Englishman who had worked in Mongolia for four years, Metta who has lived with the nomads in the countryside for the past two years researching her anthropology PhD, Metta's brother Kristian, Chris who is living in Mongolia on a Fulbright scholarship. In other words, the crew knew a few things about the country. And to add to the mix, out guide and 'cook' Angka.

We set off first thing on Tuesday morning in what quickly became known as the 'Flying Toaster', our Russian minivan (or just Toaster for short!). Decked out with a studded padded inside and tiger skin seats, it couldn't get much better!

Herding Family and Ninja's?

Our first night was spent with the herding family that Metta has lived with for most of the past year. About 500km from Ulaanbaater, their gers were probably the most isolated that I have seen in Mongolia. Getting there involved crossing an area of sharp volcanic rocks that was about 2km long. The Toaster went up in our estimation after getting through that one. The family couldn't have been better. It's unusual for them to see anyone, let alone a van full of tourists. As far as they are concerned, Metta is now one of their daughters, and we were very special guests.

While Metta sat and joked with her herding sisters, Angka interpreted with the father. He was privileged that people from such developed societies would want to visit his humble ger. Like most Mongolians in the countryside, the west was something mysterious but fabulous. He told us of his hero's from western history, the greats of Winston Churchill and Ronald Reagan! His only son was a bruiser, married in the ger next door, and his one little grandson nipping about.

We stayed in the ger for the night after being fead of the best and dined with typical Mongolian local beverages! Metta had introduced them to the idea that western people don't actually eat lumps of fat. They find it hard to understand that they wouldn't serve the 'best part' to visitors, but must be happy to have the fat all to themselves.

Next morning, it was time for the morning chores. My participation was in the yak milking. Not as easy as it looks, I gave up after a few minutes of molesting the poor yak! I really don't know how it just stood there for so long. They usually look straight ahead when being milked, but mine kept looking around at me to see just what was going on!

To bring good luck, it's traditional for departing guests to down a big bowl of airag (the fermented mare's milk). After our hearty breakfast, the first bowl was fine, but with the second I was entering the danger zone with a day on bumpy dirt road ahead. Full bill of health to report!

We finally got going. Metta's area of research for her PhD is the relationship between local hearders and local ninjas. Yep ninjas!! Local unlicensed gold mining is very common in the area (i.e. digging holes in the ground). Panning this gold uses a lot of water, which is drying up some rivers vital to the herders. Our next stop was to one of the local ninja mining sites. Oh... and why ninjas? When they come and go they strap their panning dishes to their backs and look like the ........!! The view from a distance was like a war zone. Craters stretching along a valley with gers dotted along the hill. Up close you can see why they would cause a problem for water supplies. They have pumps that jet water onto the sieves that they use for course separation. This also deposits huge quantities of silt into the rivers. Of course it's very profitable for the ninja's. The soil is very rich and they easily sell off their panned gold on the back market to the Chinese to avoid taxes.

Just remember: ninja's are bad!! Not only do they dig big holes, but they get up to other unsocial activities as well. A dung thief, the worst kind! Local beliefs are heavily influenced by the Shaman origins of the people. They believe that the in the trees are spirits, good and bad. Cutting the wood and bringing it into the ger to burn transports these spirits a little too close for comfort. So instead they burn yak dung. This is all very well for herders that have a herd of yaks and a plentiful supply of dung. Ninjas have to resort to stealing the dung of the herders yaks, right from under their noses! But the thing is that you can't chase a ninja off the steppe for stealing your dung, it's just not done? Another problem, drunken ninja's. Nothing worse than a drunken ninja that rambles in. But again, you're not allowed to turn them away, it's not done?!!!! Don't forget, ninja's are just bad, full stop.

Across the Gobi

That night we made it to the edge of the Western Gobi and set up camp. We were behind track for getting to the festival, but the chance to see and experience what we had that morning doesn't easily present itself. The Gobi really was nothingness, on a large scale. The next day we drove through a gradually changing barren landscape. Not even a camel to be spotted for hours. The local camels are the bactrian two humped camel, the type that a lot people think don't actually exist and are just for cartoons. They do look a bit crazy ....... in a good way. A second night was spent camping in the Gobi, before we left it behind. At this stage we had passed through the town of Khovd and were heading for the Olgii Aimag (county), Kazakh country.

It was far from a desert landscape that we were now surrounded by, the mountains rose all around us and the distant glaciated peaks stood tall. It really was great to see the transition from the countryside to the desert and back into the mountainous countryside. The wind had picked up and it really was freezing outside. None of us fancied pitching tents, and our guide went in search of a local family to take in some wanderers. Kazakh like money though ....... and our guide wasn't too fond of opening his pocket, a point of controversy in the toaster!! We found a beautiful family that welcomed us for the night. We really were lucky to spot the light from their house rambling about in the toaster in the dark. The Kazaks are only semi nomadic and most have brick houses, unlike the Mongols that live in gers.

Off for Some Hunting

Next morning there was only one thing on our minds: eagles!! We got to the field where the festivities were to take place at about noon on the first day, September 30th. Registration was taking place at the main stage. The stage consisted of the open back of an old Russian truck (see photo). Important stuff this registration, didn't want to see any eagles left out in the cold. Now that the 'formalities' were over, it was time to have some fun. The first event, the opening parade. It really was a wilderness festival at it's best. In Mongolia a field is really open countryside for as far as the hills around allow. How this spot was chosen seemed to be as random as the festival itself. The eagle hunting contestants trotted in line on horseback with their eagles perched for the opening parade (see photo). This lead into the first competition of the day, where each hunter displayed their hunting outfits and how beautifully their eagle would perch on their arms. It was a bit like a fashion parade. A bunch of old guys on the back of the truck held up a score card for each one (see photos). Memories for Fr. Ted!! Rumours of strange voting trends were rife in the crowd!

Next up was a proper test for the eagles themselves, where they could open their wings and demonstrate their skills. The eagles were released from a mountain beside the arena, while their owners stand below and signal for them to land on their arms, as they do during hunting. The fastest times and best technique are awarded the highest scores. You can see from the photos the trick behind the eagle landing, a nice juicy lump of meat in their owners hand. Not all eagles were well behaved though. Some wouldn't take off (could be something to do with the Japanese guy standing in front of them taking photos?). Others wandered a little and landed randomly on the steppe, maybe had a big breakfast behind their masters back? One eagle took a liking to a boy that was standing over his bicycle away from the crowd. Like a brave soldier, he got up straight away pretending he was ok. Not sure though?

Next up was the horse race. Boys rode bareback three laps of a circuit that was marked out, lead around by a jeep. It really was a tough one for the horses. It was a long circuit and these horses aren't the biggest in the world. The judging panel consisted of one guy with a pen in his mouth and a piece of paper in his hand (see photo). Could have been tricky if there was a photo finish?

To finish the first day, there were some sports to get the locals in on the action. The first was 'Pick the coin off the ground'. Five coins were placed in coloured cloth a couple of meters from each other. On horseback, contestants had to stoop and pick up each one with the horse in trot. A popular one with the locals. They all thinks they are the greatest horse riders in Mongolia and are only dying to show it off. Next was a sport where a wife chased her husband down a track. If he beat her to the end, then she had to kiss him. If she beat him, then she got to hit him with her whip. Not too much blood was spilled!!

And so that was the end of the first days festivities. All that was left was to pitch camp by a beautiful riverside and go out and have a good night in Olgii!

The second day started with something a bit closer to real eagle hunting. The eagles were released from the mountain, while their master pulled a lump of wolf skin around on horseback, calling the eagle. Like the day before, not all eagles were in on the act. Some just took off and relaxed on another part of mountain. The true eagles though were a real sight. They glided above their prey and in an instant dived to capture their prey. There was no getting away (ever for a lump of dead fur!!). Their master would them separate the eagle from the fur and stick it back on his arm.

Another one for the locals next, the most popular one of the two days. Men queued for the much sought after places and security were required for some crowd control (see photo of 'orderly' queue and festival security!). One of the police was very fond of the electric shocker that he had. The locals were not as fond of it? The game consisted of two guys on horseback pulling a wolfskin between them. The winner was the guy with the skin in his hand at the end. A very important sport in this part of the world, where the girls are pretending not to watch attentively to where the strength lies. There was a little controversy in one of the latter rounds. One of the guys was dismounted, but had the hide in his hand at the end. Did he get the hide before hitting the ground? Opinions differed. The local godfather of wolfskin pulling voiced his opinions. One of the eagle hunters marched in on his horse with eagle on hand to add his bit. The decision seemed to be reversed with every protest, and in the end I have no clue how it ended!

Next was the grand finale of the festival  before the champion eagle hunter would be crowned, some live hunting. It was what the crowd had come to see, and specially for the occasion a young wolf was brought on the scene. But dare that it might be a fare fight between the wolf and the eagle, the poor guy had his mouth tied shut (see photo). Don't want the eagles getting damaged anyway. The wolf was brought to the middle of the area and released. He didn't know where to go. Every direction he tried to run in, the locals threw stones and kicked dust at him to keep him in the area. That is until about three eagles simultaneously attacked him. This was repeated a couple of times, but miraculously for the wolf there didn't seem to be a scratch on him.

So it was time for the big decision. The hunters gathered around the stage in anticipation (see photo). You could feel the tension in the air! Not sure if it was a home town decision, but a winner was crowned. Mongolian Eagle Hunting Champion 2006. He even got a little statue of an eagle for his troubles.

We had two more days left on the tour and literally headed to the end of the track in the west of Mongolia. After sitting in the van for 1600km to get to the west, it was nice to get out and do a little trekking. We found a beautiful spot in the Altai Tavan Bogd national park. Tempting snow capped peak surrounded with beautiful glaciars. I took a few hours to trek up to the glaciar (see photos).

Getting back to UB

The journey was only half complete. I still had no way back to UB. The rest of the crew were flying back and our van was picking up a tour. I had terrible visions of being packed with 20 others into a minivan for four days, but fortunately I met another travel agent at the festival that was heading back with an empty van. So for a total of 50 hours, including about 10 hours of breaks (bit of food, little sleep), I made it back to UB. I had traveled out my 1600km on the southern route through the Gobi and was fortunate to get back on the northern route through the countryside and lakes. And so concluded my adventure to the west!