It’s not often one gets to experience a blizzard or dust storm in a given year, let alone both in one day, but I certainly did serving as a Brown Beret in Mongolia. I had the “privilege” of experiencing a Mongolian blizzard and dust storm combined into one. It was the start of what seemed to be the longest time in a car I’ve ever experienced.
A Surprisingly Chilly Start
Scott Orr and Dan Ludwig had arranged an opportunity for Command Sergeant Major CJ Overway and I to get out of Ulaanbaatar (UB), the capitol of Mongolia, to do an advanced site visit where some of our Brown Beret teams would be working with elements of the Mongolian Land Forces Command (LFC). The location was at the far reaches of Mongolia way to the west in a place called Khovd. We knew it would take us at least two days to drive over the most rural parts of the globe ever imagined.
As the mid-April trip approached, we packed our bags for our six-day long journey. Relatively speaking, we wouldn’t be gone long. However, what we didn’t know was what a Mongolian Spring really felt like. Mild temperatures in the 30s (degrees Fahrenheit) were common in Ulaanbaatar (UB) and occasionally dipped into much colder temperatures at night.
As our departure day approached we routinely looked at the weather to make sure we had the appropriate cold weather, aka snivel, gear. We also realized that the day of our planned departure called for snow, which wasn’t uncommon. However, the call for snow changed into a call for a blizzard. Still we pressed forward.
Roadblock Ahead
In the early morning hours as we packed our vehicles, the wind was a howling and heavy snow started falling. Our convoy drove through the surprisingly empty streets to the outskirts of UB to one of the checkpoints strictly enforcing COVID travel protocols. Usually we passed through the checkpoint relatively quickly.
This time we sat in lines of cars as the mix of snow and dust swirled around us. Our Mongolian Army escorts said we were waiting because the road was closed due to the storm. Minutes turned into an hour, then as we approached the second hour we talked about whether or not to postpone the trip. What should we do?
Suddenly the sun started to peek through and there was a small break in the storm, yet the wind remained strong. It was a struggle to push open the Sequoia doors against the wind to walk between vehicles. After talking with our Mongolian Army officer counterparts we decided we could continue. Our convoy weaved through the roads departing the city outskirts.
A White Knuckle Ride
Soon CSM Overway and I were regretting our decision. After about 45 minutes to an hour of driving, when the paved road turned to patches of packed dirt with large potholes, the storm returned and we could barely see the red lights of the vehicle in front of us – and it was still daytime! At one point I found myself with white knuckles gripping the headrest in front of me. The driver tried to snake his way between the pot holes, not always successfully, to find the road. Our conversation soon turned into the possibility of turning around.
Then, once again, the snow and dust lessened and we could now see into the vastness of the open Steppe. Dark clouds still surrounded us and mixtures of snow dust devils whirled around our convoy. We trudged on.
The Mongolian Dust Bowl
Finally it was time for a break. Thank goodness. As roomy as the Sequoia is, as a 6 foot, one inch tall man, I needed to stretch my legs. And after a few hours in the car, everyone needed a bathroom break. The place we stopped could have come right out of a story from The Grapes of Wrath describing an abandoned area in the American Dust Bowl crushed by the Great Depression. The area looked liked it once was a simple rest stop but now only rusted poles, bars and weather-worn gazebo remained. Of course, all of us were happy for the break. Many of our drivers and Mongolian counterparts lit up cigarettes and talked and so did we. What a crazy ride we’d had so far.
Faster than any of us anticipated our break was over and we climbed back into our vehicles. We had another few hours of bouncing up and down and staring out the window into the dust and snow. I tried a few times to pull out my laptop and catch up on some work. With SFAB teams spread across the entire Indo-Pacific region I had reports to read, orders to review, and emails to send. Regrettably the laptop slid back and forth across my lap like an old typewriter and frequently bounced up and down like rubber ball. Eventually I learned that when the road was relatively smooth I could get some work done, but when it turned back to dodging potholes, it was time to just give up and hold on for the ride.
Baursak and Khuushuur: a warm welcome
Lunch that first day was at a picturesque outcropping of large rock formations that shielded our convoy from the unrelenting wind. To stretch my legs I walked up a nearby hill to look around, but in reality I was trying not to get knocked over by the gale-force wind. The likely below freezing temperatures didn’t help. The view and the wind were surreal.
Our meal of hot Baursak (sweet like bread) and Khuushuur (meat pockets) were a warm welcome. Also our senior operations non-commissioned officer (NCO) Sergeant First Class (SFC) Joe Ooley, thankfully, had brought a backpacking stove, and served out hot coffee to the Americans in the group. The hot coffee was a nice break from the bitter cold arctic blast sweeping across the open steppe.
Bayanhkhongor: our overnight rest stop
It was time to get back on the road. Reluctantly. We started driving once again westward and thankfully the snow had reduced random flurries. The bounciness of the road remained and we couldn’t wait to get to our overnight rest stop in Bayankhongor. Bayankhongor was a large community sprung in the middle of nowhere. I still have no idea why the town exists. Our local Mongolian Army hosts were superb and we had hearty soup cooked in the soldiers “apartment building” near the center of the city. With full stomachs and heavy eyes our exhaustion from the day caught up to us and everyone hit the sack swiftly.
So ended our first day. Can you remember your most treacherous or interesting road trip in a foreign country? Please comment below to share and compare with others.