The Airport Had An Outhouse

Young Spectator, Altai Eagle Festival

It’s been a while since I blogged.  Have you missed me? My distractions are not at all interesting; moving and escrow.  In a remarkable feat of timing, my husband and I were halfway to Mongolia before the house sale closed.  Despite being in South Korea, we were (and still are) thrilled to have just one house, in Yarnell Arizona.  Never mind that we can’t live in it yet.

Yes, Mongolia.  Now I have something to blog about.

Dave, with his image on the Eagle Festival pass

I’ll share a little background, if you’ll indulge me.  I met the legendary Dave Edwards when he was trip leader on a Grand Canyon raft trip perhaps 25 years ago.  That was the first time I gave Mongolia much thought.  I saw some prints that he was carrying with him, and I suppose that planted a seed.  Dave started going to Mongolia in the early 1990s, when the country had just broken away from the Soviets. He says that hotels and restaurants were scarce and tells harrowing stories about having been arrested, for example.

And some of you think I’m adventurous.

Eagle Hunter, Altai Mountains (Dave Edwards Photo)

Dave had a spread in National Geographic Magazine in September 1999, and one of those photos (above) was honored as one of the top 100 Nat Geo images. He founded the Flagstaff International Relief Effort (F.I.R.E.), a non-profit organization dedicated (at that time) to the collection and distribution of winter clothing and medical supplies to the impoverished population of Mongolia.

That’s where the circle connects.  I’d been to Mongolia in 2006 on a medical trip, so when I heard about a Rotary Grant for disease prevention and treatment in Mongolia, I popped my head out of my figurative cubicle.  I got involved in fundraising for the grant among Rotary Clubs in Arizona and Mexico.  Eventually I realized that the nonprofit partner for the project was F.I.R.E., the very same organization that Edwards founded in the 1990s.

This trip was organized by F.I.R.E.  Small world.  The opportunity to travel with Dave, now 78 years old, dissolved the last bits of resistance I had to signing up.

We spent some time in the capital, Ulaanbaatar, but the real story is in the west, in Bayan-Olgii Aimag (Provence).  My favorite way to convey the remoteness of Olgii is to point out that the airport, 2 hour’s flight from the capital, has an outhouse.

Marco with head guide Nurka and driver Semser

Our host in the west was Kobesh Travel, headed by Agii Makhsum.  I’ve got only great things to say about Agii and his folks.  They anticipated our every need, from stoking the stoves in our gers in the morning to heating water for our bucket baths.  Nurbakhyt (Nurka) Marat, our head guide, even invited us to tea with her family during our nine days on the road. 

Ger interior

We made three camps, and that’s where the stories are.

“Horse Camp”

Janibek bringing in horses for us to ride

Auez is a champion racehorse trainer.  Our first stop was his family’s summer camp.  Eventually we learned that his charming 12-year-old son Janibek was the star of an independent film called Boy Nomad when he was nine.

Riders on the steppe, Western Mongolia

There were some serious equestrians in our small group, but that’s not me. After the first day riding (I lost sensation in my feet from the cold) I decided that I’d enjoy (and photograph) better hiking and riding in the 4WD van. For two days I did just that.  The scenery was stunning and mostly unique, although we were sometimes reminded of Death Valley National Park at home.

“Eagle Camp”

Hunting with eagles on horseback is an ancient tradition among Kazakh Mongolians.  Typically practiced with Golden Eagles in the winter pursuit of foxes, it is a source of great regional pride and has spawned several festivals.  More on that later.

Tabai with his grandson

Tabai is a gregarious grandfather, and recently retired (highly decorated) Eagle hunter. His son Chokan is actively hunting and is training three young eagles.  Chokan was our model.

Technically, it was still summer

The second place we stayed was at his family’s summer camp.  It’s notable that the day of our arrival, they all moved out of the family Ger and into a wooden building.  It had gotten too cold, he said.  I can’t disagree, as we woke to gloriously photogenic snow one morning.

Their camp was fascinating, with a full spectrum of livestock (including a camel) and an opportunity to see the slaughter of a sheep and the training of the young eagles.

Chokan with his young eagle

We went twice to photograph Chokan with one of the eagles in the mountains.

Full moon rise in Tabai's Camp

The full moon rise was a real bonus.

“Lake Tolbo”

Sunrise from Lake Tolbo camp

Finally, we re-positioned to be near the Altai Eagle Festival.  Camp was at lake shore, ten minutes drive from the festival and was ideal for morning walks and photography.

Young hunter with her eagle at the festival

There are several festivals in the region, but this one is a bit smaller, and (I’m told) less overrun by foreigners like us.  Festival events include hunters calling eagles while on horseback and running with a fox hide as bait.  There were also traditional games including “Goat Pulling” (a sort of mounted tug-of-war with a headless carcass), picking up flags from the ground at full gallop, and an agility riding contest for women which resembles barrel racing.  There were 68 participants.  Imagine what a thrill it was for us to see Golden Eagles (with wingspan as large as 7 ½ feet) everywhere we turned!

The Lamb Kebab Guy

There were vendors of food (we loved the lamb kebabs), souvenirs, and local favorites like whole eagle wings and fur coats and hats from many animals.

Lakeside concert

Agii arranged for an alfresco concert at camp after the last festival day, which included a champion throat singer accompanying himself of the Morin Khuur (horsehead lute; the national instrument of Mongolia).

There’s more; shopping and museums and fancy restaurants (yes, really) in Ulannbaatar before heading home.  I’ll leave you with these images of the Kazakh West though.  That’s what stays in my mind.

  There are more images on the website.

Whack-A-Mole and the Big Splash

B & W Hummer, Processed for Texture

Yeah, I fell out of my kayak.  I learned a couple of interesting things.  It is possible to be embarrassed when you’re alone, for one.  Also, when landing a kayak on a rocky lake shore (as opposed to a boat ramp) its best to keep your paddle with you until you’ve climbed out.  I put mine on shore, drifted back out as I started to climb out, and then learned how quickly the lake deepened.  Points for having my phone (in my PFD pocket) in a Ziplock, anyway, and no real harm done.

Trout Pond, South Fork Ranch (Near our cabin)

Lisa, Kim, and I cooked this trip up after my October workshop with Scott Baxter at X-Diamond Ranch in the White Mountains of Eastern Arizona.  They teach hummingbird photography workshops together, and I thought the Ranch might be a nice place to do those in the summer.  When they talked about a scouting mission this year, I naturally invited myself along.  I’ve never photographed the little buggers with flash set-ups before, so I jumped at the chance to learn from the experts.  They were very generous about teaching and also have the gear.  I’m so very grateful for both.

 

G - Forces

The first day we had mostly single birds at our feeders, which was just as well for me since I was learning the ropes. I tried different settings and backgrounds (though I quickly found that I preferred plain white.)  We interspersed a visit to Sipe White Mountain Wildlife Area.  There were indeed lots of hummers there but we were a bit frustrated that they weren’t interested in our feeders, painstakingly set up with backgrounds, cameras, and flashes.  They had their usual feeders on the visitor Center porch and weren’t going to leave.  Experiments shooting them on the porch were (ahem) interesting but not productive.

 

Face-off

Thwarted, we returned to the Ranch and found a dozen or so birds zipping around one of the back porch feeders we’d left. We shared that spot that evening and the next morning for a very fruitful time.  It’s here that the process started to feel like Whack-A Mole. I was trying to hit the remote trigger to photograph two or more birds, separated in space (not overlapping) and in the same focal plane (so they’d all be in focus.)  These guys move fast. Typical of wildlife photography the ratio of images made to keepers is very high; upwards of 100:1. Still the process was fun, and in the end I felt that I’d learned quite a bit.  I was glad to have had the single-bird practice before the degree of difficulty increased with multiple birds.

"Bird Butt"

Here's an example of an outtake, of a "bird butt" photo as I was calling them.  I don't want to give the impression that I'd mastered this craft...

Lisa is a brand ambassador for Tamron.  She’d been praising their 150-600mm G2 lens for some time, so I rented one to try out with the birds.  It’s about half the weight and much smaller than my standard telephoto zoom lens (and about 85% less expensive), but these “super zooms” always present a trade-off in image quality and in that they gather less light.   The lens was shockingly sharp.  I’m tempted to pick one up for an upcoming international trip.

After a couple of nights at X-Diamond, Lurch and I struck out on our own and I took the Kayak out on a couple of lakes.  I’d never been to Fool Hollow (AZ) State Park before.  It’s an unfortunately busy place, even on weekdays, but a lovely lake.  I got out at dawn on the second day and saw a beaver, osprey fishing, and all manner of other birds.  Oddly there was no one else out at 5:00 AM.

 

Smoky Sunset at Fool Hollow Lake

I grabbed a few landscape shots there as well.

The last night I was at a familiar and favorite spot; Rock Crossing Campground, near Blue Ridge Reservoir in the Coconino National Forest.  For the third time I was there for the first significant rainfall of the year (late this year) and enjoyed watching the temperature drop 20 degrees and smelling the wet forest.  My last paddle at BRR was last September.  The lake was really low then, but is up 50 feet from that level now.  I laughed when after I launched, I spied a “No Parking” sign just above the water line and 30 feet out the submerged ramp from where I put in.  I also enjoyed getting much further upstream than I had before.

New stuff, failed and successful experiments, Whack-A-Mole, and time with friends.  It’s good to be back on the road again.