New-school nomads pedal the singletrack of the ancients on the first mountain-biking trip to northern Mongolia

By Martha Sutro

David Edwards

Reindeer Games: Tsaatan herders meet fat-tire pedalers near the Siberian border

For centuries the steppe has been crisscrossed by Mongols, descendants of the wandering tribes who were first united under Genghis Khan in the 13th century. Of the country's two and a half million people, nearly half remain nomadic livestock herders. Cycling their ancient paths, we were continuing a tradition even as we set a precedent: This was the first day of the first-ever organized biking trip up the northern finger of Mongolia, and we were the first party of helmeted travelers to shift gears up its passes and seek singletrack kicks on its goat paths. Riding this wild expanse was like exploring the American West 300 years ago, albeit on wheels.

On our topo maps we had etched an ambitious, 225-mile loop that took us far north of the ongoing drought in central and southern Mongolia. (Officials are calling it the nation's worst natural disaster in 30 years; travelers heading there should check with the Mongolian embassy.) First we planned to pedal out from Mörön toward mythic, glimmering Lake Khovsgal, some 90 miles away.This would take us almost due north through the relatively flat valley of the Egiyn River. Once at Lake Khovsgal, we would ride along a portion of its western shore and then climb west up a rugged frontier road and over the snow-tipped Saridag Mountains via 10,000-foot Jigleg Pass. Out the other side of Jigleg, we'd drop into the Darhat Valley, turn south, and head back to Mörön. It was a journey that outfitters call an "exploratory": a test run of a new itinerary with guides and, in this case, paying customers. As scouts for Boojum Expeditions, a Bozeman, Montana–based outfitter, we were to plan a route for future biking trips (one of which will be offered in August), and to report on a variety of terrain.