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with eagles, a long table of lamb, and a deep green valley drenched by recent rain. Creek crossings tested the limits of our machines’ electrics, but we made it to camp just in time for the evening’ s entertainment: the ritual slaughter of our dinner lamb and a dazzling sunset that painted the western sky in fiery tones. Some chose instead to fish the river, but the lamb proved the more reliable catch.
By day seven, we reached the majestic Ulaan Tsutgalan Waterfall, where Buddhi, our guide and drone pilot extraordinaire, sent his Phantom buzzing over the falls to capture what no lens at ground level could. The storm from the night before turned soft meadows into muddy playgrounds and gentle brooks into wild torrents. One such torrent claimed a rider and his KTM, which we attempted to revive as others found solace in hot springs, cold beer, and Cuban cigars— a surreal but fitting end to a chaotic day.
As the skies cleared and the terrain dried, the ride took on a faster, more aggressive tone. Dan did his best to even out his tyre wear, while Ben, ever the showman, launched himself into a muddy puddle with such precision that a geyser of black porridge sprayed yours truly, who had been innocently trailing behind. We stopped in a small town where the black market thrives out of shipping containers— perfect for stocking up on treats— before heading to the famous Serpent Head Rock, where we enjoyed another round of fatty meats, questionable archery, and a rock-skimming contest surprisingly won by Buddhi. The White Lake awaited us that evening, framed by rugged cliffs and reflective waters. After a scramble up a rocky lookout, we took in the view as the sun dipped low. Some braved
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